Author: CarrieS

Beauty in the Contrast

Most of the beauty that I’ve experienced in my life is the result of contrasts. Like many, the crispness of the autumn air is most palpable when it first appears in the late days of September after the long warmth of summer.  And on those days when I recognize just how different the air feels, I experience life more clearly, feeling and breathing and remembering the beauty of it all. My husband and I are quite different, which has helped me to live the beauty around me on a daily basis.  And as we finish up this week dedicated to thankfulness, I wanted to share my thanks to the absolutely extraordinary husband that I love with all my heart. I am winter. He is my summer. I am often blustery and cold. He is my warm and playful. I am the last week of December, when days are short and stress is high. He is my last week of June, stretching time and bringing peace. I am dark outside and 7:30PM bedtimes, becoming old too fast.  He is my fountain of youth, encouraging me to “rage, rage, against the dying of the light” [credit]. I am nights of Father of the Bride in holey PJs under flannel sheets or an I-miss-you-dearly phone call to my sister. He is my let’s get dressed; we’ve got people to see downtown. I...

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In Case You Misunderstood

Wow! The last week has been quite a roller coaster of emotions as a result of my letter to Kai being posted on HuffPost Parents. It’s been exciting and overwhelming, heartwarming and devastating. I am so thankful to everyone who shared the letter, which was been “liked” on the newspaper’s website over 1,700 times. I sincerely appreciate all of the heartfelt comments. Many readers- fathers, mothers, grandparents, second and first children, reacted by recounting their own stories similar to mine or words of encouragement from places a bit further down the path of life. The theme through most of the comments was gratefulness. As parents and as children, we need to push ourselves to be grateful for what we can do, and what others are able to do for us. Recognizing both the small and large feats of everyday life and feeling truly thankful for them are what build our lives and make them precious. Some readers were not so kind, either because they intended to be cruel from the get-go or they misread my letter. Although I would love to stand on a soap box and rant about topics like society’s influence on post-partum depression and kids learning to hate and to bully from their parents, I believe such discourse wouldn’t benefit the intended audience. So instead, below is some clarification of my letter for some who may...

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Frumpy to Glamorous: An Update

In June, I wrote my This is Me post. In it, I created a few goals for myself , including somehow becoming  “more glamorous and less frumpy.”  This is my progress report.   First, I thought I start by improving my shoe collection, which consists of three worn out choices: black sneakers, black heals, black sandals. But sadly, breaking my foot when I was 8 months pregnant seems to have disfigured my right foot forever.  I have been to every shoe store in the New Haven area- and I mean EVERY store- and nothing is both comfortable and fashionable (except for maybe these moccasins, where the amazing worlds of leopard print fashion and winter slipper comfort unite).  My eyes absolutely love towering pumps like these pink ones, which I actually bought and desperately need to return ASAP, but they just are not teacher, mom, or broken-foot friendly. So unfortunately, I have not had any luck improving my roster of shoes, and instead, I’ve been rotating through the same old three choices,  day in and day out.   Clothes have also been a tease as I’ve tried to improve my mommy-style. I only have a few pounds left before I get back to my pre-baby days weight, but like most moms know, our bodies don’t seem to ever really be quite the same. How come the fashion people of the...

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A Letter of Apology to my Second Son

A Letter of Apology to my Second Son Dear Kai, Mommy is so sorry. I didn’t know that two babies would be so hard. I didn’t think I’d treat you any differently than your brother. And I didn’t realize how quickly life would pile up and try to steal our special moments from the two of us. I’m sorry for not having the time to patiently rock you when you were oh-so-tiny until you didn’t want to be rocked anymore. Your brother needed me to prevent him from fishing in the toilet and from falling down the stairs. I’m sorry for finishing prepping dinner for the oven with my back to you as you cried, all alone in your gym. I was so hungry. Adonis was so hungry. Everyone was crying, and I just had to finish what I was doing. I didn’t mean to forget to give you breakfast or lunch last Sunday; I forgot for a moment that you weren’t my newborn any longer. Please forgive me for thinking that Adonis’ clothes would just fit you, and not paying any attention to the fact that you’re both born in opposite times of the year. Yes, you wore the same five outfits all summer. Now it’s fall, and I know I need to go to the store so that you don’t have to wear PJs all day, but...

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Mom Needs a Chill Pill

My husband thinks I’m crazy. I know I am. I blame it on a bunch of factors, but mostly, I know it is my job. I love teaching, but the pressure to get the most out of every thing I say and do has seeped into every other aspect of my life, making even the small “mistakes” opportunities to compulsively worry or criticize. For instance, last week, while driving me to work, my husband pulled into Dunkin’ Donuts for coffee. He asked if I had my wallet, since he had left his, and I nearly jumped out of the car while it was moving to get it from my nursing bag as quickly as I could. Seeing the “OH MY GOD MY WALLET IS IN THE BACKSEAT AND I CAN’T REACH IT OMGOMGOMGOMG” expression on my face, Brandon looked into the rearview mirror at the boys in the backseat and told them, “I hope you two aren’t like your mommy!” Now I know this might seem a bit of a harsh comment, but I have already wished that myself. I know that I will do anything possible to not teach this behavior to my kids; it is a crippling mindset that makes even the best moments kind of crappy. In addition to being more open about it with my family and colleagues, I plan on doing the following when...

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