community will save you.

It wasn't until after baby A was born that I found the parents, the anchors, the friends that have gotten me through the last three years. We moved ourselves right in and pursued the hearts and kitchens and sanity of each other and when I think that I've only been friends with some of these people for less than 3 years...it's mind-blowing. 

I was in a dark place after A's birth and community turned the light back on. I know it's rare but our neighborhood has for the most part very similar parenting styles and is full of people who love to laugh, eat and drink together, and watch our kids grow. I was worried that A would have that "only child syndrome" because I was going to stay home with her, but 10 minutes into a playdate you can see what the parents in the heights see every day: our kids are pretty much like siblings. Which in turn means that my kid basically has like 10 siblings. They laugh and fight and cry and taunt each other in ways that only siblings can. I love this, I love watching this, and I hope that 20 years from now our kids will have what I have: a network of friends with WAY too much dirt on each other. 

Community has gotten me through this pregnancy in the most incredible ways, and when pregnant mamas ask me what they need to know, I tell them that they need to start building their village. It can be built after the baby gets here but I think it would have helped to know who was out there and exactly where when the time came for me to reach out and find other families. I find this happens pretty much around 4-6 months with first timers...once you start sleeping a little bit more and feeling like you can be more than just a feeding/cleaning machine that runs on nothing but caffeine and snuggles. 

Last pregnancy I was fairly sure I had to do everything myself, including pull myself up from my bootstraps when I was feeling crappy. This time, when exhaustion or the funk sets in I know there are people I can call to make sure my child doesn't set fire to herself accidentally while I lay on the couch drifting in and out of consciousness. People to eat with when I don't feel like cooking or eating, people to come over and play when one more 3-year-old "I DON'T WANT TO DO THAT" (really? it's just putting on your socks...) threatens to turn me into a quivering mess of defeat.

Community. Get you one. You won't regret it. And if you get into a crappy one, get out of that and find your people. They're out there, and want to love you.

It's Time to Begin, Isn't It?

This post today is brought to you by tremendous amounts of ugly crying. 

I am sitting here, overwhelmed, because suddenly I want to write about ALL THE THINGS...there is so much. But I'll just start with today and call it good enough. 

I'm 16 weeks pregnant with our second kiddo, and last week had my first appointment with the doctor who will deliver this baby. Suffice to say I had a really tough time picking a provider. My first daughter's birth was completely wheels-off and crazy and I spent nearly three years cowering in PPD and off-the-charts anxiety. I didn't write a lot because I had a lot to sort through, relationship-wise, mama-wise, and I didn't want to do it publicly. I guess I'm writing to say: It Gets Better.

Birth trauma sucks, and I'm learning from dear friends that you don't even have to have a three day labor that ends in a cesarean birth to be traumatized. The loss of control, blood, modesty, and sometimes even just the startling fact of, "I'm used to things working out, and this might not work out..." is enough to send one's body into a super case of fight-or-flight. And not in a good way.

So...fast forward through rocking my newborn with tears streaming down my face, countless therapy sessions, anxiety attacks, nighttime (ie: INFINITELY WORSE) anxiety attacks, prayers on my face, friends not understanding, thinking I'm crazy, therapy, being terrified of having more babies, antidepressants, and...did I mention therapy? to two days after I found out I am pregnant again: me, curled up in the fetal position, telling the mister that I'm convinced I'm going to die.

Hello, fight-or-flight. Missed you.

Just kidding. Opposite day. More like:
WHAT THE HELL I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEALT WITH.

Surprise.

And you know what? This pregnancy was TOTALLY PLANNED. I went into this all "YEAH! best idea ever! it's going to be great!" thinking that I could just fake it 'til I made it. So, back into therapy I went, for several different areas of life. The journaling and processing started up again, and I began searching for a supportive birth team. I spilled the beans the day that plus sign showed up to my previous doula/current chiropractor. We cried, and then after a few weeks she gave me the names of several providers in the area, and suggested a meeting with the best doula we knew to help get my head straight. After that meeting I scheduled an appointment with the doctor who delivered A and then one with a doctor she recommended.

The one who delivered A was...fine. Charming. Great guy. I mostly went because I was curious how my feelings would be about him, and also because I wanted to get his perspective on VBACs. I'd heard he was one of THE guys in Dallas that champion them. I was disappointed to have him start immediately laying out risks and all the ways in which a VBAC could go wrong, including uterine rupture, which he mentioned at my 6 week postpartum checkup and then I made the mistake of googling it and ended up on the floor in my first panic attack that day. Don't get me wrong, I have climbed way out of the crunchy rabbit hole since my very, very humbling birth with A and I have pretty much ZERO expectations, and a healthy appreciation for modern medicine, so I need to hear that stuff. Throw in a transvaginal sonogram done by a dude and we'll just say I was...turned off.

Since I was a new patient with the new doctor I had to wait to be seen first to do labs (at around 13 weeks is when I did this), then meet with the RN to get a full history taken and THEN meet with the doc (this was last week). I had even managed to get my ex-midwife to give me a copy of my file (that in itself is its own blog post) and brought it. The RN and doc had lots of questions about my birth, wanted to know what my expectations were for this one, and led with the empowering and empathetic understanding I was looking for in doc #1. They said things like, "You will NOT be in labor for 3 days this time." and "You made it to 8cm with no pain meds? You've so got this." and "We're going to be realistic about where your birth is going, don't get me wrong, but we're also not going to put you on a clock and insist on a cesarean and pull the plug early on your efforts." The RN and the doc both effervesced about the nursing staff at the hospital, the doula I chose, and my chiropractor.

When the doc left the room, I exhaled, replaced my paper gown with my clothes, and slowly walked through the hallway to the checkout counter, admiring all the squishy babies on the wall. As I checked out, I felt a prickle behind my eyes that turned into full on bawling by the time I made it to my car. I sat and sobbed like a crazy person...like a full-on Biblical professional wailing woman. I started getting a little concerned it wasn't going to stop but I just kept scrolling through my playlists on Spotify, landing on whatever song struck me as appropriate. Imagine Dragons was first and then Bob Marley. I forget the rest.

It went on for about 20 minutes.

It's been a week, and I can say that whatever that was turned a tiny little light on in my soul. I can repeat, "I am safe," to myself at night when a nightmare wakes me up, and I believe it. I am actually hungry, I laugh more, and I feel like being around people again. I know this is probably coinciding with the second trimester boost, but whatever. That catharsis was way overdue and I know it did my heart some good. I honestly didn't know how sad and anxious I was until it all came pouring out.

Am I sleep deprived? Stressed? Unsure? Yes. I have a three year old and have NO IDEA what I'm doing. She sleeps like an alligator trying to take large prey under on a death roll, and I'm either starving or have to pee 24/7. But this little light...it's started shining through the cracks.

I'm dancing again, trusting, hoping again.

Phew. It gets better.

D is for Dallas

Six-years-ago-me hates that this blog series is even going to happen, but I have something I need to share with you guys: 

I love Dallas. 

I have recently found myself defending its hidden awesomeness up one side and down the other, even bristling when someone else who lives in the Metroplex and PLAYS REGULARLY in Dallas got all high and mighty about how much better Fort Worth is. Now, Fort Worth is awesome. I love the culture, love the vibe, and love the people sporting their boots and cowboy hats just because it's Tuesday. Yes it is more country and more laid back. However, in my opinion it in no way compares to Dallas at all. Not in that Dallas is better by any stretch of the imagination, but that trying to compare the two is like trying to compare apples to oranges. You don't hate the orange because it doesn't taste like an apple. That's just silly. It's kind of the same as trying to compare Austin to Dallas. If Dallas is your old rich Aunt, Austin is your dreadlocked hippie college-aged cousin. You don't love one more than the other, you love and interact with them differently. Maybe you happen to know that despite her big hair and fake boobs your Aunt loves to frequent farmer's markets in her pearls and stilettos and at the same time you wish your cousin had gotten his degree in efficient infrastructure planning instead of skipping class to smoke pot.

When I got here, I hated it. I hated the people, hated the vibe, hated that everyone my age around me seemed to either have it all together or look a whole lot prettier while they were working and playing so much harder than I was. I remember going to the Ghost Bar for a friend's bachelorette party and being completely disgusted. I was supposed to spend the night in the hotel that night and ended up asking Mr. S to pick me up because it was so terrible. Granted, my introduction to Dallas came at a really lonely time in my life - I was engaged and planning a wedding remotely (in Austin) and I was working on and commuting to my first year of graduate school from Arlington to Denton while my fiance lived in Dallas. It was just totally a blur. I was homesick for the hill country and my friends, who were for the most part all still in Austin finishing their degrees and having fun together on a regular basis. Pair all that with a significant other who is more of a homebody to my PLAYPLAYPLAY! nature and boom. Dallas Hater.

Fast-forward to three years ago and meeting Annie. We are both music therapists, foodies, runners, life enthusiasts, we hit it off immediately while volunteering at a grief camp. She had done her internship in Dallas and had spent that time exploring all the culinary, beverage, and breakfast taco delights Dallas had to offer, and when we started working together, we started playing - hanging out at different bars and trying new restaurants. The veil was officially lifted on the previously hidden wonderfulness that Dallas had to offer. Our friendship is definitely in a different season now what with me having a toddler and the whole life-shift that having kids and living in the 'burbs brings but she and I still meet a random restaurants or food trucks that we have hear are great and we scheme our next 5K races and/or restaurant adventures.

While all this was happening, different neighborhoods have enjoyed a gentrification or awesomeing up. Oak Cliff is an absolute gem if a bit of a drive for me, East Dallas is probably the closest to Austin Dallas will ever get, and I'm starting to explore Deep Ellum. More importantly, my very own neighborhood continues to surprise and delight me in different ways every week. The people here are incredible, and I have found and helped foster a really fun and supportive community of parents and kids.  And that's just in my back yard. ON TOP OF THAT there have been city renovations that have caught my eye, namely the new Klyde Warren Park, Perot Museum, the Dallas Museum of Art now offering free admission, and the endless floral enchantment of the Dallas Arboretum. 

 So, there's the background on my idea of writing about why I have come to love Dallas. Mostly because I have found lots of Austin or hill country expats struggling to find their footing in this concrete jungle where big hair and thirty-thousand-dollar millionaires abound. Dallas in fact is all those things you hear about it. The people can be really overly flashy and rude (especially if you're vying for a seat on a patio when the weather is awesome), there's gobs of silicone running around here, and there's a very real disconnect between where people live and where they work, which can lead to never knowing your neighbors and spending a lot of time in the car on highways that never seem to ever be finished with construction. 

But that's not what we're here to talk about. We're here to talk about the side of Dallas that takes some persistent digging to find, that really I didn't get to know until I had a kid and really settled in to knowing who I am and finding/creating my village. Another part of this has been really paying attention to that whole "bloom where you're planted" philosophy or something that I read on an internet meme a week or so ago:

There is no longer any point in hating Dallas because it's where I am right now, and hating it just seems like such a waste of time I could be spending enjoying life.

So buckle up. You're not going to believe the incredible things I have discovered.

It Takes A Village

I have blogged before about having to seek out your own village once you become a mama. I am fortunate enough to have one, quite literally, in my own back yard. And this past weekend, most were ACTUALLY in my back yard! Kyle smoked two briskets, grilled some chicken, and we sauteed some veggies, and everyone either brought sides, beer, or wine (and sometimes all three!)

We had new and old faces, new and old babies, lots of great food and wonderful conversation! I only snapped a few pictures as I was busy running around but we had THE best time ever. I am so thankful to have these people as my support system and am honored to be part of theirs. 

Do you have a village out there to help support you through whatever it is you're going through? I'd love to hear about it!

yoga-licious

Okay so I know one of my resolutions is to do yoga once a week, and I assumed that it meant I would be going to classes once a week. However, I recently ordered some yoga DVDs to do here at home because -get this- the hubs is going to be doing the yogas with me! I figure I can do one a day, depending on when I wake up and when/if the nugget sleeps. I have found that moving my body, breathing, all that stuff, helps center my brain and my heart so that I can face everything else with a little more joy. I'm stoked that my tall-dark-and-handsome will be doing this as well because I think it'll be a good stress reliever. Plus he's about as flexible as a 2x4.

Some other stuff I'm doing is writing in my journal every day, which helps me filter a lot of the endless stream of consciousness in my head and get it out. What came out yesterday was the concept of being replaced. I suppose this isn't a particularly fair assessment, because I know that once I became a mama, things changed...friendships changed...I changed. I consider myself to be a very loyal friend, and am glad in some ways that I am the first of my Dallas friends (ie the ones I see all the time) to have a kid because I have so much perspective now, and know how to be a better friend...not just to other mamas but just in general. In some ways it's been hard though because I have had to find community with other mamas, which meant doing a lot of work getting to know new people and families and doing that whole 'need a friend? be a friend' thing. I am generally viewed as an outgoing, bubbly person, but at my core I am an introvert and very rooted in my friendships so when I was faced with having to find a new support system FAST, I was overwhelmed. I dove in, and thankfully have found some incredible friends pretty much in my own back yard and have had the opportunity to connect with some old friends online who are now moms. Thank you Facebook.

The thing is that it still hurts is not knowing that the carefree, spontaneous days have dwindled, but more than that is seeing and hearing about close friends doing things that I used to do with them...things that they no longer think to invite me to. Which is just as well in a lot of cases - my hours of happiness are usually spent fixing dinner and having a dance party with/attempting to feed and sometimes getting food thrown at me by my baby girl. 

And the late nights, I've already learned the hard way, are just not an option any more. Staying out is fun and great, but it's as if they know, and every time without fail that's the night your sweet angel will wake up bright eyed and rarin' to go at 3am. And you WILL have a headache from the bubbly, and you WILL hate life. It is just NOT worth it. I get that, and I spent a lot of time in college having the time of my life and watching the sunrise. It's time to move along to other things. It's just that (ugh I can't believe I'm saying this) I miss my old girlfriends, and like to think that maybe I'm not just viewed as a mama now. It's a constant battle in my head - part of me wants to type "so what if you are?! quit your bellyaching and enjoy the ride!" and then the sensitive overly analytical side wants to be all "pity? party of one? your table's ready." I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that when I was prego I was really, really sick, and really, really flaky because I just could not figure out when I was going to be okay and when I was going to be queasy.

So anyway. Every day is a learning experience and I am thankful for the moms I have met this past year that have helped me along. I don't know if I've mentioned this before but right when I decided to stay home with Addy I had lunch with one of my husband's coworkers who I greatly admire and she said something that has stuck with me - that being a stay at home mom "can be really isolating." I found that statement to be so weird because everyone says "It takes a village!" - which, it truly does. What they don't tell you is that a lot of times (maybe just in Western culture?) the village doesn't just appear, you have to go out and build it yourself.

Anyone out there with or without kiddos who can relate?

Lady Jane

Once upon a time I lived in Spain and then London for a summer. It was in the English countryside that we came upon this cute little town where I bought a pink shirt with white flowers on it.

Well, I am long-waisted and the shirt was very short-waisted (hence the white tank underneath), and then every time I washed the shirt I had to iron the flowers down. Needless to say it didn't last very long in my wardrobe rotation. I saved the flowers though, for just such an occassion, and every time I see them I am rocketed right back to that English summer and my wonderful housemates Jane & Jim.

This is the first official item that is going up on my Etsy shop! Hooray!

Claire

I have a LOT of leftover Ikea fabric from my guest shower curtain that I made a few years ago. It is a home decor weight fabric that is fun to look at, and I love making bags and wallets from this material. Yesterday we celebrated the birthday of a dear friend who I knew loved my shower curtain so I whipped her up a tote bag. Henceforth, anything with that outer fabric and red lining shall be under the "Claire" line.

I am attempting to make a matching wallet but so far I keep screwing it up...I'll post as soon as I figure that one out.

*update: I gave up on the wallet completely after dozens of ripped seams. Seems the interfacing I bought was too stiff for it and I just could not get it to turn out or top stitch and then my attempts at adding a bias tape around the outside totally was not the way to go. Back to the drawing board!

now it's time to get back

Just a quick update as my sunshine is napping for more than 20 minutes for the first. time. today.

1) I joined Stroller Strides! thinking "hey this will be a nice little workout and I can meet moms." I get my ass kicked 3 times a week and it is AWESOME. and painful. in a good way.

2) I met and hung out with a raw foods coach and am going to go "high raw vegetarian" starting tomorrow. Kind of excited about it. 

3) I had a moment last week after Stroller Strides when after class a herd of ducks came up to us so I took A out of her stroller and stood her up on the sidewalk. She smiled SO BIG and started sort of QUACK-ing at them! In that moment I thought to myself, "yeah, I wouldn't be anywhere else."

4) KINGS OF LEON with BAND OF HORSES on FRIDAY!

5) My garden is absolutely amazing. Pics soon!

photos photos photos!

I am blessed to have incredible, wonderful, CRAZY TALENTED friends. One of these friends is a guy I've known since high school named Nick who is this insane photographer. Check his stuff out here:

http://laningphoto.com/ 

He and his lovely wife are here in Dallas and can do it all! Documentary, wedding, creative, senior, pet, maternity, newborn, professional, architectural, the works! Check him out, you will NOT be disappointed :)

backspacer

Ugh! I keep starting and stopping on this blog post because I don't know where to start. Just write, right?

Right.

Okay. Well, if you're a mom, you know about the mommy blues. I am a pretty emotional person to begin with, and I don't know when it stopped being mommy blues and started being PPD but I started having pretty gnarly anxiety attacks, one after a visit to the OBGYN, and another just out of the blue one night: full on shaking, crying, the works. Sometimes someone will play a sad song and I'll freak out, or my brain will just magically go to that place that creates horrible scenarios, and in each one something happening to me or my loved ones. The nightmares are awesome too.

I am not someone who lives under fear. I'm not. This is therefore new territory for me. I went to the doc to get my thyroid tested and it had swung under my normal range. Their reaction was - everything's in (the standard) normal range! You're fine! Except, I wasn't. I had stopped taking my thyroid meds because I noticed that if I didn't take one, the anxiety wasn't so bad. But then I would notice a drop in milk production. Oh, the rock and the hard place.

Adeline's pediatrician is an earthy crunchy family doc and at her last visit my mom spilled my beans for me. He ended up testing my thyroid and ultimately putting me on a lower dose every other day. He also tested my progesterone, which turned out to be super low (and an indicator of PPD), so I'm taking that now. I am also seeing a therapist every week to help with everything.

I expected to feel better almost immediately, and so far I don't really. The last two days have been rough, enough that I made the decision that our little family was going to stay home instead of go to Vegas for the weekend, where my brother is getting married.

I wanted to write this because I know there are folks out there who have experienced this type thing or are in the middle of it, and I wanted to provide some solidarity, some insight, and hope that things get better. Not that they're all the way better for me quite yet but we're working on it.

Austin fabulousness

My trip to Austin can be summed up in one word: educational. Not only because I went to check out a prospective internship site and learned way more about myself professionally and even music therapy than I had anticipated, but because in general I learned things about myself, the people around me, and even the city of Austin. I felt more at home this time around. I'm not sure "at home" is the right term, it can only be described like how I feel when it's cold outside and I take a drink of warm tea. I met up with some friends for a happy hour and it was like reuniting with family. When we went dancing later that night I recognized dancers from my freshman year of college who would be there every Wednesday at Antone's. Hopefully one day I'll have that same sense of community here in Dallas.

I somehow managed to see nearly everyone I wanted to see without kicking my own ass, which is generally what happens with all the running around I usually do. I found it easier to say no in order to maintain my sanity and to stay true to myself. It felt awesome to do something nice for myself on my own time, including wandering around South Congress and dipping into the local artisan shops. I could live down there. I think the vitality of that little stretch of road really reflects the soul of the city. Even the waiters and waitresses were friendlier than anywhere else I've lived. Except maybe New Braunfels. Jeez.

Saturday was probably the perfect day - I woke up at my friends' apartment in the hills overlooking the Austin hill country, drove to my cousin's house to relax, and then took a walk with my best friend Haley at Town Lake. After the walk, we drove to South Congress to enjoy some pizza at Home Slice, an establishment I HIGHLY recommend, along with the pizza margherita. I then attended a beautiful SAI baby shower for two dear sisters who are both soon having boys!

Now I am back home, catching up on schoolwork and looking forward to the weeks and months ahead, which will be chock-full of thesis stuff, internship, and a new house! Hooray for growing up!