Test after Test

Oh man, I’m overwhelmed with where to begin to so let me start with sharing the highlights from the last few months….

I’m pregnant!

Jeff and I always agreed that we wanted more than one child and to have them close together in age. We would have started trying immediately after Colette turned a year old in October, but I didn’t want to chance being pregnant for the marathon (that never was) and I was adamant about not being knocked-up for our stinky cheese-saturated, alcohol-infused and oyster-encrusted New Year’s trip to Paris.

Shortly after we returned from our trip, I blamed my extreme tiredness on jet lag, but suspected it was something else when it lasted for days on end and my period never came.  I took a pregnancy test one night after work and showed it to Jeff at the kitchen counter. We were both really happy, but a little suspicious of its brand-X accuracy and at the speed at which it occurred.  It seemed too soon/good to be true. I had only been off the Pill for a month and it appeared that we had brought back quite the souvenir.

We kept it under wraps from friends and family for several weeks but shared the news once we received my OBs approval that it was in fact a viable fetus and not just a fluke/fart.

The first trimester was awful.  I never had morning sickness or nausea but suffered from a debilitating depression.  I had no interest in doing the things I enjoy most; socializing, exercising, working, parenting.  And, as a result I had feelings of extreme sadness, fear, and guilt.  It was also creating tension between Jeff and me.  It took a few weeks to recognize and diagnose, which I did with the help of my therapist (I’ll share more about that in another post) and a consult with a pre/post-natal psychiatrist.  Then, it took even more time to treat, which, I’m not sure I ever really did.  I went to acupuncture once a week for a month, which was both relaxing and a waste a money, sought support and advice from my closest friends and was on the verge of taking anti-depressants, but through research and thoughtful conversations with Jeff, my OB and therapist, decided to hold off for as long into the pregnancy as possible. I’m glad I did, because, once I hit my second trimester, it went away as quickly as it came.  I hope I don’t have to go through it again, but I feel more informed and empowered if I do.

Shawna’s Not Pregnant Anymore!

She’s better at telling that story than I am, so you can read all about it in her post.  We’re thrilled for the Kitzmans and can’t wait to get to know Emmeline! So far, she seems to be a great sleeper and eater; therefore, her middle name is a perfect fit!  I bet she’s hilarious too.

Mother's Day 

Edie, Dave, Emmeline

 I passed my PMP exam!

Studying with noise-cancelling headphones so Jeff can watch TV.
Blue bathrobe is still sadly on the scene.

Once my depression cleared, I had the energy and desire to re-focus on big picture challenges and goals that this pregnancy set into motion.   For example, Jeff and I plan to move to Connecticut in June of 2014, when our current apartment lease expires, which is another topic that deserves a post or two of its own.  Leaving NYC also means that I might need to part ways with Herman Miller, my employer, whom I adore.  In anticipation of that happening, I’m doing what I can now to improve my credentials and skills; ya know, like in addition to showing up 45 minutes late to work everyday.

Once the second baby arrives, I suspect spare time will be rare.  Knowing that, I decided to nail down a date to take my PMP (Project Management Professional) exam to become a certified project manager.  It’s an idea I have toyed with for several years, but solidified this fall, when my employer offered the required 35-hour course and to pay for the exam fee.  With the course complete, I submitted the required documentation set a test date for May 10^th.  It was an aggressive study schedule, but I didn’t want to draw out the painful process any longer than necessary. So, for 6 weeks, I cleared my social calendar, asked Jeff to step up his parenting percentage, from like 60% to 80%, and buried myself in books, flashcards, note taking, and prep-tests.

Although, I was stressed and tired more often than not, I enjoyed the process of learning something new, having a concrete goal and found the content surprisingly interesting.  The 4-hour exam was super-sweat inducing hard, but I passed and I’m so proud to have it behind me.   It’s only been a few days, but I feel like I have all the time in the world now that I don’t need to spend every spare moment studying. 

Most of all I’m looking forward to paying more attention to Jeff and Colette…my rock and my gem.  They deserve a happy and non-stressed wife and mom, and that’s my biggest goal at the moment.

Winter Blues Bathrobe

This winter is kicking my butt.  Having lived in New England my entire life, especially the four college years spent in upstate Vermont, usually, the cold weather and short dark days don’t wear me down but this year, it’s really taking a toll on me.  I’m so fucking sick of winter and so looking forward to wearing tights less and tank tops more. But, instead of being dreary like February weather and I’m going to focus on upbeat and positive things.

In early January, I had LASIK eye surgery. It was life changing and I can’t believe that I waited so long to do it. I started wearing glasses in 4^th Grade and wore them until freshman year of high school when I made the switch to contact lenses.  It was timely that I did because in addition to poor vision, I also had braces, acne, and what I described to my Mom as a “severe sweating problem”.  Poor thing. In hindsight, I was probably just nervous about looking so ugly. Luckily, I had manageable hair, a decent body, a sense of humor and hot friends. I made it by just fine. But damn, I’m glad not to be my 15-year old self.  

High school days and horrible uniforms

 I’m also thrilled not to have to deal with the hassle of glasses or contact lenses.  I never felt comfortable in glasses because they don’t blend well with things I like (running, swimming, dancing, sweating and the sun!).  Contacts were a great alternative but my constant dry eyes made them hard to wear comfortably for long periods of time.  The LASIK procedure was painless, easy and took less than 10 minutes. Given I don’t go blind, I highly recommend it to anyone considering.  My vision is perfect and it’s certainly a boost to my confidence.

Recently, I stumbled across a book that caught my eye at Anthropology, a store I find ridiculously overpriced but very well curated and great place for finding gifts.  I ended up buying the book, I Love Your Style by Amanda Brooks, as a gift, but liked it so much I kept it for myself.  It’s a fun read, full of pictures of famous fashion people I don’t know and it definitely gave me a better understanding of my natural style (according to this book is 95% classic, 5% bohemian) and how I can take more ownership around it. 

Less of that

More of this

The book is divided into sections on six types of style; classic, bohemian, high fashion, street, electric and minimal and delves into what attitude, accessories and articles of clothing are needed to pull off each of those looks.  I read the section on classic style with a dropped jaw as I realized, that without knowing it, my look is so “classic”.  Just as the book described; ballet flats, loafers, cardigans, shift dresses, nautical strips, berets, blazers, riding boots, oversized sunglasses make up almost my entire wardrobe. Overall, I like my look, but often I find myself looking too conservative and too boring. I’d like to look less like an orthodox Jewish woman and harness more of the sex appeal of fashion icon Bridget Bardot.  I should start by burning my blue terry cloth bathrobe that I where all too often.

Bathrobe and shades post LASIK

A December to Remember

I can't believe December, one of my favorite months, came and went without a post. Actually, I can. It was an action-packed month filled with holiday parties, visitors and visits and an amazing trip to Paris. Before I delve into 2013, let me recap the highlights of the past four weeks. 



Camden, Colette & Edie post party

Jeff and I are suckers for travel and parties so of course we couldn't turn down an invitation to the Edmand’s annual Christmas party in Waltham, MA. We've attended this party for as long as I can remember, perhaps 8 years, and every year, even with rising expectations and the introduction of babies, it's always a blast. Michelle and Jay, with their tots Camden and Shane falling behind them in their snow tracks have a love for Christmas, decorations, Santa, and holiday jingles that only rivals Will Ferrell's character from the movie Elf. We always spend the night, and every time I'm little surprised to wake up in the morning and find that they're serving egg sandwiches and coffee, and not maple syrup with sugar cookies. They are the most warm and inviting family and it truly doesn't feel like the holidays without a visit to their home. 



Our bedroom mantel. 

Feeling inspired by the Edmands, I used every opportunity I could to score holiday decorations at Marshall's, Etsy and few local shops. Our new apartment has much more closet space than our previous one, so I finally feel freed to buy more than stockings and a string a lights. Jeff thinks I went overboard and he's a little nervous that I'm going to start decorating for President's Day and Yom Kippur. I'm like, "uh, we have a few extra shelves in the linen closet, how much damage can I do?" Meanwhile, I'm turning our wine bar into a Nativity scene, dusting our bedroom with scented pine needles and lugging an 8' Christmas tree home in a grocery cart. I freaking love Christmas and all the glitter that goes along with it. When we finally move into a house, that's when Jeff will have to worry about me decorating for all the secondary holidays and filling our attic with life-sized reindeer figurines.

A typical Dyker Heights home

To further throw myself into the holiday spirit, my Sister Shawna and I went to the Rockette’s Christmas Spectacular show at Radio City (which was spectacular and something I’ve wanted to do for years), and spent the day checking out Brooklyn’s craft and flea markets and crossing off our shopping lists. Later in the month, Jeff, Colette and I took drive over to Dyker Heights neighborhood in Brooklyn, where we witnessed competitive house decorating at it’s very best.

The one seasonal thing we didn’t do was take Colette to see Santa.  It wasn’t deliberate; it just never came up in conversation. After a friend mentioned that she’d taken her toddler to every Santa in the city, I felt like a bad mom and that I had missed out on a special moment.  I thought about it a little more, and although I have no qualms with Santa, really, I love him, I’m nearly certain Colette would not be into him or his lap and I’m totally certain that I have no patience for standing in lines. Shit, with all the decorating I was doing, for all I know, Colette might even think we are Mr. and Mrs. Claus.

Just hide and squeekin' her eggs

The holiday really kicked into high gear when we headed home to Connecticut on a few days before Christmas. There was one family party followed by another.  The most fun was watching Colette play with her cousins, Edie and Camden and also watching her interact with her besties, my parents, my parents’ dog Shiloh, my brother-in-law Dave and cousin-in-law Jay.  She was like a pinball, bouncing from one nutty uncle to the other.  We didn’t get her too many presents, but her favorites were the doll stroller from her Meme, Hide & Squeak Eggs from Aunt Shawna and some finger puppets from her Great Aunt Denise.

On December 26^th, Jeff and I left Colette in my parents’ expert care and boarded a flight to Paris.  We’ve wanted to go to Paris for a while now, but the timing never seemed right and our priorities lied elsewhere (50-state challenge, pregnancy, infant and nursing, friend’s weddings across country, etc.).  We’ve both been before as students, but wanted to experience it together, and as adults without a teenagers taste and budget.  We both had vacation time, Colette’s day care was closed for the holiday, as was my Mom’s school. With all the resources aligned, there was no way to pass up the opportunity.

The trip was relaxing, romantic and just plain awesome. Jeff and I travel well together and have similar agendas; eat, drink, walk everywhere, avoid tourist traps and soak up the culture.  On our first day, we overslept by four hours, missed our scheduled bike tour but rocked the day anyway. We shrugged it off, grabbed a café creme and pain au chocolat and walked over 10 miles to check out (er, have a drink in/near) Montmartre, the Eiffel Tower, the Notre Dame and lots of other cutie neighborhoods.  We capped the day off by having dinner at a swanky restaurant and a cigarette on our balcony. Each day followed in a similar fashion. We drank vin chaud (hot wine) everywhere, ate stinky cheeses, truffles, duck liver and whatever else came recommended. Our hotel, Le Petit Paris, in the Latin Quarter next to the Luxembourg Garden was amazing with the friendliest staff. It was definitely a vacation we will treasure forever and try to recreate in the years to come. I couldn’t have dreamt up a better way to ring in 2013!

Our hotel living room

Unreal window shopping

Notre Dame, around the corner from our hotel

Again, the window shopping has nothing on NYC!

View from Eiffel Tower

On the Seine

The bike tour, we eventually made it to

You Suck, Sandy!

Damn, Sandy, you’re a real bitch! I didn’t realize it at first, but now I see loud and clear the damage you’ve done and the pain you’ve caused. Fuck you and your annoying Nor’easter girlfriend, Athena.

I wrote my previous post on Thursday of last week early in the morning, a couple days after Sandy’s landfall.  At that time, I knew that she had done a significant amount of damage, primarily on the coastal areas of New Jersey, Long Island and Staten Island but I didn’t fully understand the severity of it. My world, given there’s no public transportation, which there wasn’t, consists of a 5-mile radius of Brooklyn, and it seemed to be unaffected in a way.  Our public parks and schools were closed, some services, like Fresh Direct were suspended, and fallen trees and debris were on the sidewalks, but that was about it.

At some point later that day, I stumbled upon a Facebook page “Cancel the NYC Marathon”.  It had 50,000 “likes”. My heart sank.

Mayor Bloomberg announced the previous night, Wednesday, that the marathon would go on as scheduled, unite the city and help get us back up and running again. At that time, I agreed with and was relieved with that decision.  I thought there was no way they would cancel it, but I also thought, there would be no reason to, either.  I thought the city would be well on it’s way back to normal by Sunday. I was so wrong. Bloomberg was so wrong.

All day Friday, I stayed glued to media coverage, Facebook, Twitter, the NYC ING Marathon website.  The more informed I became, the more I knew that it needed to be cancelled or postponed.  It seemed, that no one wanted this race to be run. Who want’s to run the NYC marathon without the city cheering you on, or even worse, booing at you? Who wants get bussed to Staten Island, the race start, to shed excess running gear onto the ground while people in that very community have no heat, hot water, or expendable money to buy warmer clothes?  Who wants to use up resources like food, water and medical supplies for an athletic event, when others need it survival? No one. The cries to cancel the event grew louder and louder and late Friday afternoon I saw a post on Facebook announcing just that; NYC Marathon is cancelled. I confirmed it on NBC 4 News for New York and Twitter lit up simultaneously.  Shortly after Jeff and I received e-mails for New York Road Runners, the organizing foundation.

As much as I knew it had to be done, and agreed that it should be cancelled. I couldn’t believe it.  I was sad. I was in shock.  I was relieved.  I called my Mom and Sister, shared the news and told them not to come to the city, as scheduled. Jeff and I needed to let it sink in and think about what we were going to do next.  We did so, over a bottle of wine and sushi.

I read that some marathoners were going to spend their time volunteering on Staten Island and that others were going to run a marathon in Central Park on Sunday, what was to be the race day.  Neither of those options seemed appealing to us.  We decided to shift gears alltogether and go to the Bronx Zoo.  Animals always make people feel better, we’ve been talking about going for a while, and now we had an opportunity.   Unfortunately, there were hardly any exhibits open, and the ones that were featured sleeping animals.  Too make matters worse; it was a perfect day for a run, 50 degrees, light breeze, and clear skies. 

Fennec Fox - The smallest fox. We found it in the zoo Mouse House.

After we returned home from the zoo, had dinner and put Colette to bed we started researching other fall marathons that we might be able to run.  Sarasota, Jacksonville, Charlotte, Harrisburg, Palm Beach…. the lame list of cities I have no connecton to went on and on. Logistically, emotionally and financially nothing made sense.  We wanted to run a marathon in our city, not any city.  Then, I suggested that we could just run 26.2 miles on our own, together this weekend, in the city.  Jeff seemed on board, but not thrilled with the idea.  As this weekend neared, Jeff questioned me on why we needed to do this.  Was it to prove it to ourselves? We knew we could do it. Was it to prove it to others? No one cares whether we do or don’t run. To have fun? It’s not fun.   The more I thought about it, the more it became clear that running a self-created marathon seemed more like punishment than a reward.   So, we nixed that idea. But still, I felt the need to have some closure around this marathon.

Today Jeff, Colette and I are going to run a celebratory 3-mile loop around our beloved Prospect Park. We will acknowledge the dedication and commitment we put into our training, mourn the loss of a great experience that never was and move on to creating the next one.

Manchester Road Race, here we come!

PS – The aftermath of hurricane Sandy is unreal.  I am blown away by how severely some areas have been impacted. It will take years to recover.  We’ve donated money, supplies, volunteer time and the opportunities to do more are never-ending. If you want to contribute in some way, but don’t know what to do, let me know and I can point you in the right direction.

Volunteering in Rockaway