I did not sleep well in my Inner Mongolia Hotel room. Stress, unknown plans, hunger – none of that lends to a good nights’ sleep. I set my alarm for 5am. I figure that was a good time to get up, showered, downstairs and out the door. I woke to a form letter slipped under the door, sincere apologies from British Air and assurances our accommodations in Inner Mongolia would be paid in full. No fucking shit… Still no indication of what the plan was now that we are all waking up.

It was probably 5:30 when I reached the lobby to a huge sign –

• 6am – Wake Up Call
• 6:30am – Breakfast
• 7:30 am – Buses depart
• 10am – Flight departs

OK, 30 minutes to go back upstairs and lay down, stare at the ceiling. My phone rings at 6am with the wake-up call. Another 30 minutes and I go down to breakfast. Another buffet with the gamut of options. I had cereal and yogurt and fruit. And bad coffee. Not know what the day was going to hold, I had another cereal and yogurt.

Out the door and boarded the bus at 7:15am. And we sat. And sat. Annnddddddd…….sat. I kept checking my watch. 7:25am. 7:35am, 7:45am, 7:55am. WTF?! And then we sat some more. Finally pulling away from the hotel at 8:30am.

Another hour back to the airport. But this time we are traveling in rush hour, thankfully going against traffic, out of Hohhot (which I will say, those photos are very deceptive, the pollution was thick, oppressive and depressing) We get to the airport and all pile out.  Immigration is not even open!  The whole plane of passengers and crew walk right through closed lanes. That were dark. It was creepy.

We get to security and now have to do all the – take out your laptop, put your bag on the belt, walk through the metal detector. The extent of immigration at this point, and officer looking at our passport, our boarding card and handing it right back. We get to the gate and sit until 10:30am. In that hour-ish I go to the water fountain about 4 times with my water bottle, I had no idea how dehydrated I was! OK, we all board, in our seats, and ready to take off at 11am. Glad someone figured out how to fuel the plane.

An hour later we are landing in Beijing. We all funnel off the plane to the tarmac, corralled onto buses to go to the terminal. I see a sign with a few people’s names listed, mine included. I figure this is the connections list. The agent holding the sign tells me we are going to gather everyone together, go get our luggage and can then be rebooked. I’ll be on the 3:10pm flight that I was supposed to be on the day before.

The group of us gathers together in a bus and we are off to the terminal! At baggage claim we wait. And wait. And wait some more. Now there is the agent and 3 of us left. All other passengers, all other re-books, have gotten their luggage and moved on. It’s about 12:45 now. 2 hours and 25 minutes until I’m to depart China. The agent bring the three of us to the luggage office. We are told our luggage is “misplaced” and should be returned in 30 minutes. That’s encouraging.

Fifteen minutes later we are offered water and mints. No update on where our luggage is located. One of the men waiting with me asks where I’m going. I told him Singapore, and that I was supposed to be there 8am Sunday (remember it’s now about 1pm on Monday!) He tells me he is going to Japan then back through China for work. And concerned about coming back into the country now that his visa has been stamped. I shudder thinking about that. At 30 minutes he asks the agent about the status of luggage. He’s supposed to leave at 4pm. I’m really sweating it at this point. She tells us our luggage is almost there, she’s sure of it. More encouragement! Then another 15 minutes go by and they wheel in our luggage. Finally!

Another BA agent takes the 3 of us up to the ticket counter. He looks at his clipboard, looks at me, takes a breath in and says “ooooh, you better go first!” The man behind the counter takes my information, looks at me, types on his keyboard and hands me a slip of paper. He points in the direction of a ticket counter. It’s about 1:45 now (1 hour, 25 minutes until I’m supposed to depart)

I walk over to the ticket agent to get the boarding pass and drop off my luggage. This agent looks at my slip of paper, looks at me, shakes her head and goes to another agent at another computer. She walks back, puts that luggage sticker thing on it (I check, it says Singapore) and onto the belt. Then she hands me my boarding pass, looks me directly in the eye and says “You better run!” Great.

I rush to wait for the train to the terminal. It finally arrives, I get on board and we are off! Only to disembark and face immigration. And long lines. Thankfully I see a line towards the end that isn’t as long as the others and as I approach it, an agent directs me to another line that has only a few people – YAY! I get up to the counter and hand the agent my passport. She looks at me, opens up my passport, looks at me again and stamps my exit. Here’s the kicker – on the WRONG PAGE! After all that trauma of the night before to get the “right” stamp, this person doesn’t even look at the “right” stamp, she lets me through with the “wrong” stamp. I don’t care at this point, I’m nearly at the plane. Now it’s time for security again – laptop out, electronics out, shoes off, jacket off…I get through fine. Thankfully ahead of the man behind me that was stopped for having a cigarette lighter. He started raising a fuss and a bunch of agents came over because he didn’t want to give up his cheap, plastic, Bic lighter that I think run about $2 these days. But who am I to judge? I’m almost on the plane!

Sort of. The gate outside of security is “1”. My gate is fifty-something. It isn’t until I’m speed walking down the terminal that I realize I’m going by Gate 1, Gate 2, Gate 3, Gate 4 – so I start running and obsessively checking my watch. I see the gate, I see a line, I slow down a bit. I’m getting on the plane! The gate agent scans my boarding pass and I board a bus. To wait to go to the plane out on the tarmac. It’s about 25 minutes before we are supposed to depart. I’m waiting again… As irritated as I am that this plane obviously is not leaving on time, it’s leaving, and I’ll get to Singapore.

We leave the gate and shuttle over to the plane. We all board and it’s obvious we were the last bus to get there. I think we were on a 777 – are there other planes that have a 2/5/2 row all the way back in coach? I’m practically at the end of the plane, in the middle of those 5 seats. I get into my seat, stuff is stowed, seat buckle on, we take off and I start to fall asleep.

I hear… “Hey Lady?” … “Lady?” … “LADY!”, I wake, look over, the flight attendant looks at me and says, “Fish or Chicken?”  Seriously?! You woke me up to ask about my dinner choice?  Realizing I hadn’t eaten since breakfast I think it’s wise to eat and not go back to sleep, “Fish”.  The tray is handed down that has the sad salad of 3 pieces of lettuce, a cherry tomato and a few carrot shreds. A small, stale roll. Some other unrecognizable vegetable and the fish & rice portion. I take a bit of the fish and nearly gag. Maybe it’s not that bad, I try again, and nope – that wasn’t an illusion, I think this is honestly the worst thing I have ever eaten! I spit that bite out into my napkin. So I eat my sad salad and my sad stale roll and pull out one of those saved protein bars. Back to sleep.

I wake to the plane descending and flight attendants handing out entrance cards. Yay! I’m practically IN Singapore! I fill out my form and start to ready my stuff to get off the plane. We land. We disembark. I go to immigration. I hand the very friendly immigration agent my passport, entrance card, he welcomes me to Singapore. Yay!

I go to baggage claim with the other passengers and wait. And wait, then I wait some more. The claim area is nearly empty. An airport employee walks up to me and shows me a piece of paper. “Is this you?” Fuckity fuck fuck!  “Yes, that’s me.” He proceeds to tell me that my luggage didn’t make it to the plane in time and will be on the next flight arriving at 6:30 the next day. That would be 6:30am Tuesday! He points me towards the luggage office so I can fill out the paperwork to get my luggage couriered over to the hotel.

I walk over and a very cheery agent has me sit at a desk and start to fill out papers. She asks me about the color, approximate size, where am I staying, etc etc.  Then she looks at me and says, “Well, we can likely have your luggage to you about 11am tomorrow…” I immediately burst into tears. Heaving tears so I can barely talk. This poor woman who has no idea what I’ve been through looks completely shocked. She pulls a pack of tissues out of her purse and pushes them across the desk towards me. “I…am..sor-sor-sorr-yyyy.  It’s taken me two-two-two-days to get here and…and…and…” I can’t even talk. She looks at me and asks how soon I want my luggage. I have a moment of clarity, look at her and say, in a somewhat bitchy voice, “As soon as possible!!” She stamps my form with a big red, RUSH (thank you!) Then she says, “Now, I know this doesn’t really help much, but here is 64 dollars to help with incidentals” and pushes 64 Singapore dollars across the desk towards me. “I will need you to sign this form that the amount will be deducted against any claims you may make against Air China” I don’t really care, I sign the form, pick up my bags and take the 64 dollars. Which was actually pretty nice as I had no Singapore cash on me so it saves a trip to the ATM.

I walk out to the cab station and I’m directed to a driver. He looks at me and asks, “No baggage?” I just smile and shake my head. A quick, easy car ride and I’m pulling into the hotel.

I go to the counter to check in. I hand the guy my passport and credit card. He taps away on the keyboard.  “Hm, we don’t have any record of you.” My gawd – I start crying again. I tell him I was supposed to be there the prior day and due to all this travel I had not been able to call my corporate travel to make an adjustment to my reservation. He goes to another computer, comes back with keys and documents. “Yes, we have found you a room!”  Thank goodness!!

I get upstairs and enter a suite. A suite! This room is huge and it feel so comfortable. The first thing I do is log on and email my co-worker arranging the meeting (at 12:39am):

Hey there – really sorry, but I am not going to make it when the meeting starts tomorrow. I just got to the hotel 30 minutes ago and I still don’t have my luggage. The last 56 hours have been a (excuse the language) fucking nightmare and I really just need some time to distress before I can even think about doing anything at all. I will definitely attend dinner, and will try to make it over later in the afternoon but no promises.

And this is the response, 3 minutes later:

No problem Jen; we will adjust. Relax, have a morning drink and hang by the pool and see you at dinner.

What a relief! I take a shower, fill out my breakfast door hanger thing and go to sleep.  I wake up at 8:30 the next morning.  Exactly at 9 my breakfast and luggage arrive together. I eat everything on that plate…everything! I put on my work out gear and go to the gym. I work out for 90 minutes. Go back to the room take a bath and then a shower. Sit on the couch and watch Ellen. It was very relaxing indeed!

I meet up with some co-workers and head out to the evening dinner celebration! Told my story to a few people and had a very nice meal. I even tried some durian which few people agreed to eat. I figure I came this far, how could I deny trying the “king of fruits”? It wasn’t that bad…

The next day we have our meetings. I have dinner with my 2 team mates. Then back out to the airport and leave for home. I was in Singapore for a total of 48 hours. Less time than my entire travel to arrive in the country.

I was surprised how well I was reacting. I wasn’t anxious. I snapped right back. Even my jet lag back in Redmond wasn’t too bad. This is really odd, I thought it would take at least a year before I could laugh about it. But here I am laughing!

…little did I know….

(to be continued)

The trip started in London.  It was a really nice week for work and a bit of play. Got to see Wicked, the London Tower, walk across London Bridge, shopping, some nice food and good company. Even more time to spent face-to-face with co-workers I tend to only interact with on the phone.

So what went sideways?

Saturday morning I was supposed to leave London on a direct flight to Singapore on British Air (operated by Qantas).  I left for Heathrow after a quick morning run, packing and breakfast. When I left the hotel everything was on time, but by the time I got to the airport my flight on Qantas to Singapore was canceled due to labor issues. I worked with my corporate travel agent to get waitlisted on 3 other flights, confirmed on a fourth. I knew I wouldn’t get on that 1st of 3 waitlists as it was leaving in an hour and the ticket counter already had a long-ass line of displaced travelers.  So I went for a coffee and some work.

Four hours before that 2nd wait list I went to the airline’s ticket counter. Hm, that 2nd wait list was canceled. I went to the the 3rd wait list airline and that was canceled as well. WTF?! I called my corporate travel agent back – the agent that helped me looks up my record, “Hm, this is interesting. Colleen canceled your waitlist and your confirmation for later this evening” WTF Colleen?! That agent suggested I go back to the BA counter as they would likely have more luck rebooking me to Singapore than she could.

I go back to the BA counter tired, frustrated and near tears at this point. A nice British Air rep that had been dealing with angry people all day (I had been there 6 hours at that point) was able to find me a BA flight to Beijing, then connect on Air China to Singapore a few hours later, plenty of time to connect.  She prints out my boarding pass and as she is about to hand it to me, she has an Oh Shit moment. “WAIT! You need a visa to get into China – hold on a second.” She checks a few screens, breathes a sigh of relief, and tells me that since I’m only connecting through Beijing airport I’m fine, no need for a visa.

My bags are checked, I go through security, grab dinner, get to the gate and line up to board the plane. I get on the plane, seated next to a nice guy – an American that lives in China and in town for Nokia World. We chat a bit about phones and stuff. He tells me he graduates college, knows Chinese and decides to go live in the country for a few years and work – why the hell not? I have dinner, take a sleeping pill and drift off…

About an hour before we are supposed to land in Beijing the pilot comes on and tells us that due to fog, no flights are arriving or leaving Beijing.  We are being diverted to a local airport to wait until we can return to Beijing.  Our diversion is 150 miles away, at Hohhut Airport (i.e. “Inner Mongolia”), the sign indicating a domestic airport. I fall back to sleep (thank you modern medicine).  Two hours into this event the pilot comes back on to tell us we are cleared to return to Beijing. We just need to wait while the plane is refueled, sitting on the tarmac burned off enough we need to top off.  About 45 minutes, or an hour, later – the pilot comes back on again to tell us “Sorry folks, they cannot attach the hose to the plane or figure out what the problem is. Also – sorry to say – the crew is quickly approaching our maximum flight time per regulations, we aren’t getting to Beijing today.  Of course, British Air will take care of putting you into a hotel tonight and getting you into Beijing as soon as possible tomorrow. I’d like to leave about 8am. In the meantime we have to wait for some extra immigration staff to come in and handle everyone on the plane.”

Crap! I don’t have a visa to enter the country.  What the fuck am I going to do?!

So we all disembarked to get through Immigration. I get up to the desk and the agent flips through my passport. “You don’t have a visa!”  “I know, I’m not supposed to be here.” She calls over her supervisor, who doesn’t speak English.  They have a chat, he takes my passport and walks back to his office. “He is going to give you a 24-hour visitation stamp.  You must go apply for a visa when you get to Beijing airport tomorrow, you have to before you leave the country.” He comes back and she hands me my passport. I look inside to see a “temporary visa” stamp with 24 hrs written in.  OK, apply for a visa, great.

We all pile into a line up of tour buses for the hotel. An hour later we arrive at a rather nice-ish hotel. Everyone piles out of the buses, into the lobby and it’s mayhem. No one at the hotel speaks English (given the plane was on its way to China, most of the plane did speak Chinese) so there is a passenger behind the counter helping the English speakers as we get to the front. They aren’t even checking people in. When I get towards the front I see they are just handing people key cards. No collection of name-to-room, confirming we were on the plane, no one knows anything about that evening, the next morning or when we are leaving.

I get up to my room, look around, see the beds look starched and clean, toiletries in the bathroom (although I’m not sure they haven’t been used before), disposable slippers in the closet. I take a deep breath, exhale, and start crying and shaking. For an hour. As if the stress of the last 27 transit hours has finally caught up with me.

When I’m calm enough to get on the phone I call the international emergency services our corporate travel account provides. I explain what happened, I’m in China without a visa, what am I supposed to do?! A nice agent puts me on hold to check. A few minutes later she comes back and tells me that there isn’t anything that she can do and I should call the US Embassy in Beijing when they are open again.

I check out the desk and look at that! And internet cable. So I plug in. (side note, and this probably wasn’t a smart thing to do, I can confirm that Facebook is blocked in China, in fact I tried to publish some of this post and it failed) I look up the US Embassy in Beijing and they aren’t open until 10am on Monday. I should be out of the country by then. So I look up information about traveler emergencies. Since I wasn’t raped, accused of murder or some other egregious event – I have to wait until the office is open. Now I’m obsessing about having enough time to apply for a visa, get on a plane to Singapore, and maybe being retained in China.

My co-worker that I was traveling with, and NOT on Qantas, is already in Singapore at this point. I should have been too, for 14 hours already! She’s online and we start IM’ing. I update her on everything that has happened, or at least an update as we had been texting throughout the day.  I’m hungry and just will eat the protein bars in my suitcase. She encourages me to order room service (doesn’t exist) or find a restaurant, that I should save the bars for when I really need them.  I pack up my stuff and go downstairs, part of me hoping information about leaving the next day is now posted. No such luck, leaving China is still a mystery! I ran into two women in the elevator that were on my flight. They tell me a buffet is set up for those on the plane. So I get off on that floor and walk towards the restaurant.

A Chinese woman approaches me and asks my nationality. “American.” “Is this you?” She shows me a piece of paper with my full legal name and passport number on it. Great, what is this about. “Yes”  She calls someone over. The woman I saw at immigration and her manager walk over. The woman tells me they gave me the wrong stamp to enter the country. That she needs my passport to update it with right one. She’s only going over there (pointing to the other side of the room) and why don’t I get dinner and then she will bring me my passport.  I’m reluctant. She assures me and points to a table I can sit at and watch. So I go get food. I sit down and start to eat. She comes over again.

“What is your room number? I need to take your passport as I brought the wrong stamp. We will be back within 2 hours with your passport.” What? I can only guess what you are thinking dear reader. Yes, I admit, I let her leave with my passport. The second she left the room I felt doomed. What the FUCK did I just do?! (more on that later, I’ve since talked with my therapist about it) I barely finish my meal and race back upstairs. My co-worker is still online and I tell her what happened. I’m crying again, what a FUCKING idiot I am. She is trying to reassure me – what was I supposed to do, it’s the Chinese government. Was I supposed to go back an hour with them and not know that I would ever make it back to the hotel? Was I supposed to refuse and maybe get into a different kind of trouble? She stayed online with me for two hours. In hind sight, SO glad she was there to keep me as sane as possible when I was already spiraling out of control. As the 2 hour mark was approaching I started freaking out even more. At 2 1/2 hours I wanted to leave the room, maybe they wrote the room down wrong, maybe they are wandering the floor, maybe they are in the lobby.  I walk outside my room and I see them approaching me. The one I first ran into at the restaurant with a slip of paper and my name, and the manager who doesn’t speak English. They are both in plain clothes and this really strikes me. Seeing them out of uniform diffuses me, it also confuses me.

She hands me my passport and thanks me for being willing to work with them to do the right thing. We shake hands, they wish me safe travels and leave the floor. I go back to my room and collapse, a rough sleep and still don’t know anything about the next day or leaving Hohhut and all other aspects of actually getting to Singapore. As badly as I just want to go HOME – I’m so afraid corporate travel is going to fuck it up, I just want to get to Singapore. I know people there, one of my co-workers is temporarily living there. It’s a safe interim place to get me back on my itinerary and able to eventually get home!

I’ll pick up the rest of my trip in another post. This one has worn me out…

So! November quote….

peace.

it does not mean to be in a place

where there is no noise, trouble

or hard work. it means to be in

the midst of those things and still

be calm in your heart.

(unknown)

OK – talk about the universe speaking to me… I honestly had not really read the quote and absorbed it until right now when I typed it out.  After having written that first paragraph. Guess I’m not much at peace these days.

And honestly, no, I am not at peace. Last weekend I put up the holiday decorations. We typically do the tree closer to my birthday. It actually depressed me to put everything out. I have not had that experience before. Norman has been asking about What I want to do on my birthday and I’m avoiding the topic. Which is also unlike me since it is the one time a year I really honestly act like a Princess, eat at least two cupcakes on my birthday and not feel guilty about it.

So – gotta get out of my funk so I can enjoy the coming weeks. Tomorrow is December, let’s see what the monthly quote is then – perhaps – inspiration!

Like many other motivational-type speakers, she remarked on how hard we are on ourselves. Seriously, what I tell myself in my head, if I ever spoke those words to another human being, I would have no friends. No second guessing that at all. Still, here I am saying those things to myself.

I was saying to Norman this morning that I need to adopt that in my life. I think I’ll make little notes to put places like my mirror, wallet, maybe the back ground on my phone? If I see it enough, maybe I’ll start acting that way.  More importantly, I think it’s something I should say to my kid every day. She already is such a perfectionist, so much like her mom and dad. If I can start that tape in her head now at 8? By the time she hits 40 it would be a whole different mindset. I hope.

So, here I go.

Be Kind to Yourself.

This is also the first time I have seen so many men at the conference.  I only mention this as the participant I just mentioned is one. A man.

This morning Steve Ballmer came and did an interview-type discussion to kick off the day. Good questions, mostly good responses, and then time to open it up to questions from the audience.

A man was up at the microphone and asked two questions.  The more relevant one was about succession planning and how many women are on the executive plan. Great question, impressive. But…  The other question.  He asked Steve, of all the conferences and opportunities he is offered over the year, why did he pick the Microsoft Women’s Conference?

?

I’m sorry, WHAT?!

It was an odd response in the room. The air wasn’t sucked out, no collective gasp, no rousing emotion or “bitch” from all the (women) people surrounding him. It was more of an awkward – Wait. Did he really just say that? Did you hear that? ‘Cause I heard it!

It was a good response from Steve – who was very honest that he doesn’t own his calendar, the team and business managers around him own it. And if they tell him it is important, he knows it is important and therefore he attends.

Wow – how demoralizing. I’m still a bit irritated the question was even asked. Given the room dynamic, and how Steve responded to the question, I’m not sure the participant “got” it. I didn’t see him again once we disbanded from the room. But maybe, hopefully, some other person pulled him aside to give an insight into how he may have been perceived. By many.

I recently read Dooce’s entry on her 9/11 memories. I found it powerful to share her experience and thoughts. As tragic and paralyzing the memories are for people – some more than others – I think it’s important to remember. We need to keep in touch with horror in the world to combat it – the Holocaust, the Sudan, or anywhere on the globe, any of the other numerous terrorist attacks that have happened. If it makes us that much more compassionate, helps us to teach our children to make different choices, impacts one other person’s world – I think as humans we should feel obligated to carry that through.

So here is my memory…

I remember being in our house in Woodinville getting ready for work.  It was any other typical morning that I’m trying to rush out the door to beat traffic and get in to my desk on time.  I came out of the bathroom and Norman is on the bed, staring at the TV. I remember thinking how odd, we don’t turn the TV on in the morning. I turn to face the television and see one of the towers being hit. I plopped onto the bed next to him stunned.  I thought, what is this? It cannot be real!

I sat on the bed with him a little bit longer. Watching the video, hearing a different kind of emotion from the reporters. The kind where professionalism is out the window and their real emotion and personalities show up. That is so very rare.

Eventually I got up, into my car and drove to work. I turned on NPR. I remember hearing Bob Edwards giving a moment by moment account of what was happening. I remember him choking out, sharing with all the listeners, that the 2nd tower was hit. I remember crying.

I remember arriving at the office and no one was working. It was terribly somber. We were together in a way that felt like a community trying to grasp the enormity of what was unfolding before us. Our VP left to go buy a TV. That was set up in an empty office and we all funneled in and out to watch as long as we could stand before returning to our desks. I wasn’t working at all. I was on my computer looking around news sites and absorbing every detail and update. I remember hitting the F5 key over and over and over and over and over…

I don’t remember when I left. Our VP sent us all home. There wasn’t any work being done. People certainly didn’t want to be at the office. I met Norman at home, being together and dealing with everything that was unfolding before us.  It was before we were married, a girlfriend of mine was pregnant. I wondered how could she cope with bringing a child into this kind of world?  How could I? How do you explain to a kid something like this?

Just even typing this out, my eyes are welling up. The other night at dinner my Dad and I were explaining 9/11 to A. She knows what it is, she doesn’t know the feeling, the experience of what happened that day. I told her there will be many TV shows on in memorial, and it will be a hard day for Mommy, Daddy and Papa to see any of it. I was telling my dad about Portraits of Resilience, which started at 8:46am ET. A asked if she could watch it. I was somewhere between stunned and understanding towards her request. I told her yes, that she can watch it. I also explained that it is a very sad story, and could be hard to watch, so we should talk about it. She should ask us any question she has. And to tell us if she needs to stop watching.

This morning A and I ran the Iron Girl 5k in Seattle. It was an event full of positive energy. Many mom/daughter teams (we were the Glisten Girls) and it was great to see Moms work with their girls, pushing them forward. I am so proud of A, she did so fabulous, beyond my expectations. It was a very happy morning.

We should continue to experience joy.

We need to bring community to those around us.

We should always remember.

Two years and one week ago, I had an annual check up that my provider found an odd lump. 

One year, 11 months, 3 weeks and 6 days ago I had a benign lump removed. 

Eight hours and 31 minutes ago, I had another annual check up. 

My nurse practitioner found what she is pretty sure, but not entirely certain, a large cyst. So now I have to go and have more fun testing and films and if I’m lucky – nothing will come of it. Or maybe I’ll get a recommendation to have the cyst drained (which I hope they give me a Xanax). And very likely a different kind of testing and heightened awareness the rest of my life.

Do I sound bitter?  Yeah….that’s kind of where I am right now.

Earlier today when I was thinking about typing up a post, I was considering a title like “What I hate about getting older” Because as amazing our bodies are, how much abuse they will take and keep moving forward, eventually they will begin breaking down. I feel like in the last 2 years I have entered this realm. More opportunities to think about how I’m living my life and be thankful that I honestly do live as healthy as I can. I work out, I love doing that for myself and the results. I eat well, excluding chocolate binges and Friday tasty beverages. I try to get Me time, I do neglect my sleep, and well – I thrive on stress.

So…not feeling as bitter as I was when I started this (The Proposal is distracting me right now). We’ll see in a week or so how freaked out I become. Or not. Let’s hope not…

So I read the article.

Uh…..nothing surprising. Really – any mom out there look at that and feel surprised by anything they said? Shocked at how many admitted to certain actions like medicating a child or using them as an excuse to get out of stuff?  Haven’t done the former, have done the latter. So what? I’ve sent a sick kid to daycare and I often want to be left alone. Are you judging me now? How about that I ponder the “Do Over” question?

So why am I writing about this? Besides shaking my head at the honest reality of it all?  Yes! It is so freeing to be able to say these kinds of things to my closest girlfriends (and I guess now the internets).  Blogs like dooce or All & Sundry have helped in laughing, crying or figuring out tips of my own in the whole parenting scheme. Or the ah yes I remember that moment…  Like at my 2-week post partum sobbing to my doctor that I didn’t want to be a mommy that day.

But those blogs didn’t exist when I was considering pregnancy – OK, they might have, but I wasn’t reading them. There was not a Loud Voice out there of Mommy Bloggers talking about the challenges and joys of parenthood. No one being totally honest and raw about what it meant to be a parent.

I remember coming back from maternity leave, Fall of 2003 and running into a pregnant co-worker in the cafeteria. She was in the happy pregnancy stage, no morning sickness, not physically uncomfortable, she was just joyous and bubbly. I was operating on about 4 hours of sleep.  She asked me how wonderful it was to be a parent and how excited I was to have a daughter. I looked at her straight in the eye and say “No one tells you how hard it is”, she smiles, “No really, there are not words to describe how HARD it is!” She gave a nervous laugh and walked away.  Months later after her maternity leave, she walks up to me with that wild-eyed new parent look, takes my hand and says something to the effect of, “You were SO right and I had no idea…there truly aren’t words…”

If you aren’t a parent – that may not have made sense to you.

I love my child. She is sharp, creative, caring, pretty and cunning. She is a force to be reckoned with now and will be until she leaves the nest for her own place. I love that she takes care of me when I’m ill, brings me art for my office, eager to share a dessert, read a book together and wants to cuddle from time to time. But sometimes….

sometimes….

sometimes….

….sometimes….

I just wish I could do it over.

By Friday night, I was ready to collapse in a pile and be done with it all. I was so far gone I didn’t even want a drink or dessert – I just wanted to run away.  That is ultimate stress for me – not to sound like I rely on my Friday evening cocktail – but not wanting it is a sign I need some serious re-group time.  So I decided to just let it go, and prepare to take a kick-boxing class Saturday morning at the gym. What better way to get out frustration than punching and kicking?!  Problem was, the studio for class was being refinished so all classes were canceled for the weekend. Frick!  I went for a long run and pushed myself to run most of it. I felt pretty good by the time I got home.

But it still wasn’t enough.

I needed to get out for the day. To go be alone and recharge and I wasn’t sure when I was going to come back. I drove up to the Anacortes Art Festival. I used to go every year, but not so much recently.  It was good, I’m glad I went. Saw some good artisan work and some, well, eh. I ran into a friend of mine that is a jeweler and spent a little bit of time catching up and meeting her daughter. After walking through the whole festival twice, I was ready to go. But it was only 4:30 and I wasn’t ready to head back down to Redmond. Still too much energy inside.

I side tracked to Deception Pass. I used to go up there frequently when I was single. It was an easy hike, and there are beaches to sit and meditate on. I hadn’t planned on hiking so didn’t have the right shoes or even a backpack. Still I walked down to the beach and spent about a hour sitting in the sun, listening to the water break on the rocks. I put together my own spiral, it helped calm my mind.

There is nothing like a beach and water to help calm me. I’m not a mountain person, I don’t like camping, nature and I have a tentative relationship. Except for water. I could never live in the Midwest and be so far from an ocean. When I think about my retirement, I see my house being near the water, close enough that I could walk down to get the kind of recharge I had yesterday.

So here is a personal reminder to myself – that when it all gets to be too much, I don’t have to drive 90 minutes to Deception Pass (although a good option) – there are many beaches around town that I could escape. Some close enough to take a lunch break, some far enough that no one could just “drop in” on me.

The past few weeks have been very trying. I am pushed up against every motivation and belief of success. I feel like I’m fighting that stereo-typical up-hill battle on a 90-degree incline. Two weeks ago I was so frustrated I just had to laugh, I couldn’t let it get to me, how productive would that have been? Last week I was tired and going through the motions, but not going through the motions since there was a lot to get done and some significant blocks in the way.  This week….well this week….I’m just cranky!

I have that feeling that I remember so many years in my career. That poisonous feeling of resentment and frustration and hopelessness. Reaching the final edge of burn-out, but don’t see the light since this piece of work is going to carry into October. Gawd! October? I’m not done enjoying my summer!

I’ve come up with some sayings and stress release that help put a smile back on my face. It really is significant how laughing at it all can help reduce my stress level. Even better when I have people to share it with, and we can all laugh about it.  I think about some of the challenges in the past few weeks and have already identified some potential opportunities to change it next time.

Yep – I think tomorrow I need to add some new tasks to my white board. And spend some time each and every day on them to keep sight on why I like my job and right now, this week and maybe through next month – I’m just going through some shit that just has to happen. It will all be OK, we will get there, we always do!

(OK – I did just gag a little bit thinking I sounded like a cheerleader, which I do not associate with in any form!)

So then on to the next opportunity!
and a pedicure tomorrow, that should help, relaxation….yep….that should help too…