WHY: so, I'm a nurse (isn't your sister a nurse? your little sister?)

Happiness is...

when what you

THINK

what you

SAY

and what you

DO

are in harmony.

So, if I think exercise is important, and I tell you that exercise is valuable, then I should GO FOR A RUN.  This is what will make me happy.  Just a totally random example, obviously... :)

But sometimes what I think is not even in harmony with itself, causing some problems.  For example, I think that babies should be at home with their moms, but I also think that women should be able to have successful and fulfilling careers.  When I was a new mom, a few people told me that they were not surprised that I went back to work because I was a "career person."  This was interesting to me because I did not feel like a "career person;" I felt like an "I want to stay home with my baby person."  To be clear, I went back to work when Annie was a baby  because we needed the money.

At the same time, as Annie and Maren got older, I learned that working has non-monetary value as well.  I think working keeps me interesting and engaged in the world.  I never feel like I need a break from the girls because I always appreciate the time with them.  I also seem to do better (health, money, organization, etc.) when I am busy - even in college, my best semesters were the ones when I took 18 credits.

So, in conclusion, I need to work and make some money; but I also want to work.  In my dream world week, I would love to work 20-25 hours at a job that is personally fulfilling and pays me fairly, volunteer a few hours, play with my kids after school, and have flexibility.

Enter A New Career.  I have been extraordinarily lucky in my career because I have had jobs that felt more like true callings and I have been exposed to a ton of different, satisfying experiences.  My concern has been My Next Job, which would look something like this: $60K, a rigid ~50 hours a week including nights and Events, lots of ass-kissing fundraising, and lots of personnel management, which I hate (oh and I am bad at it as well).

So, nursing.  Lots of options that do not involve management.  Flexible, part-time options.  Decent starting salary.  When I leave, I am finished - someone else takes over and I get to just go home. And I get to help people (I had to feel like I was "helping")!  Coming to nursing started as a "head" decision as opposed to a "heart" one, but somewhere along the way, it started to feel a lot like another calling.  And, yes, isn't it adorable how I am following in my little sister's footsteps?!

on adulthood

Tonight I threw away my journals.  I have been on a mission to simplify, to get rid of the stuff.  And tonight, my journals went, but first I read them.  I kept journals fairly regularly from high school through college, horribly embarrassing journals that I could barely re-read and would never subject my children to if the journals happened to live on longer than me.  I wrote about friendship, a lot about good friendships - I have had incredible friends in my life.  I wrote about boys, so very much about boys.  I loved Chris; oh my goodness I loved him then in a way I barely remember now.  Not more or less or better or worse, but different.  Occasionally I would come home after drinking (Grog House frequently noted) and rant away in pretty colored pens.  Fights with friends.  Royal Village drama.  Mark the Baptist (noted here because I had forgotten most of him).  Vicars.  The agony of deciding where to go to college.  Summers.  Quotes.  Poems.  Ridiculously trivial sections (e.g. lots of talk about tanning) and parts that sound like me today (e.g. I want a boy who loves God and Dave Matthews and plays board games).  

What hit me is that I have been married nearly as long as the period during which these journals were written.  The time during which I journaled was a period of intense feelings and change and growth; and now, here I am: adulthood.  I have no regrets.  I am happy and I lead an intensely fortunate life.  And I think it is okay if I miss Journal Me a little even if I embrace adulthood.  It is not my turn anymore.  Annie and Maren will be the ones who make beautiful pre-marriage friendships ('cause they are different), meet boys, go to college, think big thoughts, and, hopefully, write in journals.

home _________

Chris has been home brewing and I have been thinking about home birthing and home schooling.  Not sure they are for me, but I get it.  Hmmm.  Someday.  Who knows?

in this life...

...you just never know. A coworker of Chris's just lost a 20 year old daughter tragically. These things do happen. If you do not like to think about death, then skip this post. And if you whisper amongst yourselves, that weirdo is obsessed with death - I'm not. But, hey, we are all going to die, and nothing makes you feel mortal quite like holding a new life. Seriously, hold a new baby and feel the fleeting moment that is your own life!

I have been running more and when I am not thinking I hate this, I think about other stuff and one thought that has been going through my mind is, why do I blog, anyway? See the top of blog soon for answer to this, but in the meantime, just in case, there are things I want my children and family and friends to know. I don't want people to say, Katie would have loved that, when I am screaming from heaven, NO! NO! NO! What are you doing?!?!?

To Everyone


No tattoos with my name/favorite things/etc.
Help Chris! Don't exclude him because he doesn't have a partner

To Chris

I hope you fall in love again. After a respectable mourning period (of at least a year?), go out on dates! You are a catch! Meet someone fabulous with short hair (Chris has a thing for short haired girls)! But do not introduce anyone to the girls for a long time, and please do not let anyone move in with you while there are kids in your house.


To My Parents

Call, check in, help, every day if needed, but don't worry - Chris has got this!


For My Children (Instructions for Everyone)

• Take them to church and teach them to pray. They may follow many spiritual callings in their lives, but give them the foundation.



• Take them places; don't buy them things.



• Teach them to be open minded and active, voting citizens.



• Show them that life isn't fair and that sometimes that is okay (e.g. you will never be the smartest, fastest, etc. and no, you are not getting a new car for your 16th birthday) and sometimes that is not okay (e.g. the treatment of women and children around the world, the horrible bullying problem in schools today, and the fact that millions around the world don't even have fresh water or food). And, that in those moments that are not okay, they must be the voice for those who cannot speak for themselves.



• Encourage them to explore the world so they can find gratitude within and share that with others. Good examples of this: working at an orphanage in Africa, attending a spiritual retreat in Thailand, spending a semester in the wilderness or at sea or somewhere thought-provoking.



• Turn off the TV. Pick up a book. Go for a walk. Go to the beach. Plant a garden.



• Serve others. Be kinder and more generous than necessary.



• Don't compete with others because you will never win. Don't be afraid to go against the grain. Be radical.



• Laugh. Tell them stories about me. Tell them I loved their dad and I loved them more than words can express.

Done for now! More deep thoughts to probably come as I run, run, run my way to a Gate River Run PR in March. :)

P.S. I am planning on living for at least 60 more years and Chris says please see his instructions as well.

the busy contest

I have recently been discussing with friends how much I love reading blogs, and this is one my favorites. She recently wrote this post about being busy that really had my nodding enthusiastically as I read it.


In the nonprofit world, there is a very definite busy contest going on. My agency sees more people with less money and I work the MOST hours of anyone, etc. I never play the busy contest at work because, the truth is, we are all busy. Overworked, underpaid. Too many clients, not enough money. Did we think it was going to be different when we chose to work in this field? It is the definition of preaching to the choir and I try my hardest not to participate.

Now, among my friends, sadly I sometimes play the busy contest. Sometimes, when someone is talking about how busy they are... well, do you want to know what I think in my head? Puh-lease, I can beat that. (And usually I can.) Which brings me to my point. What do you win if you win the busy contest? A messy house, a bad cold (I am feeling horrible today out of nowhere), piles of laundry, and a house without a single Christmas decoration up.

This is the season of my life right now. It is a broke and busy season, but it is a good season. We are happy, so I do what I have to do and trust that this busy season will pay off in the long run. But I'm going to do better at not even entering the busy contest.

Love Florida and love my big beach girl and my little water baby:

It sounds silly, but when Chris pushes this girls in the stroller, I think, my stroller runneth over; I have more than I could hope for:

part two: the role of the father

This may be slightly controversial. Chris is a great dad. He really is. He builds dollhouses, makes dinner, changes diapers, does hairdos (and dreams up future hairdos to do - he was looking up braids on youtube this week - NOT KIDDING!), plays games; and, nowadays, does the entire morning routine himself. He took Annie on a date a month ago: they rode go-carts and ate ice cream and she hasn't stopped talking about it. Now for the controversial part: he has no choice but to be a great dad.

Most families today rely on two incomes. Period. And if the mom is working 40+ hours a week and the dad is working 40+ hours a week, then both have to do their share of work at home as well. That is not to say that workload is always equal, but we have to be a team or our home is going to literally fall apart. Maybe dads (at least in my house) get a little more time off for happy hour or fishing than moms. And nursing mothers never get a day off. But this is the modern dad; he has no choice but to be great.

Modern dad in action:

part one: policy and legal crap

Sometimes I forget I got my Masters because I finished right before I had Annie and my world changed so drastically, yet I actually use what I learned all the time at work and am going to use some information here as well. In my Human Resources Management class, we did a group project on a pertinent issue in HR. I worked with two other girls and we selected Maternity Leave as our topic. (Ironically, the one girl became accidentally pregnant right after and had an extremely difficult time figuring out her working situation - I would see her at meetings in Putnam County and we would laugh about our project in action.)

FMLA is the guiding force in U.S. maternity policy, and it basically allows 12 weeks time off for birth/adoption, serious illness, or caring for a loved one with a serious illness. During this time, there are no stipulations that you must be paid; but you have the right to keep your job or an "equivalent" one. Also, this policy only applies to employers with 50+ employees, so if you work for a small company, they do not have to follow any of the policy. Isn't this just common sense and common decency? We need a policy?

In Canada, maternity leave policy is a little different. In Canada, provided you have worked a certain number of hours (comparable to the number here), you receive 50 weeks of paid leave at 55% of your salary and your job is protected for 52 weeks. The Scandinavian countries have even better policies than Canada. And I had to send numerous emails to my HR rep to state my case to return to work at four days past 12 weeks. Several responses along the lines of "this is not the norm."

Let me give you a scenario: You are pregnant with your first and go into premature labor at 32 weeks and are put on bedrest. Doctors can't stop labor when it starts again at 35 weeks, and you give birth to a 5 pound preemie who is generally healthy but spends 5 days in the NICU for breathing difficulties. Before you even had your baby, you used 3 weeks of your FMLA leave. When your baby would have been 40 weeks (due date), you have already used 8 weeks of your FMLA leave. When you have to return to work, you baby will only be 9 weeks old and a little smaller and weaker than other babies that age. And you have to put him in full time childcare with strangers. And the lactation room at your work is miserable and your boss never says anything, but you can feel him looking at you every time you leave your desk to pump.

I can't figure out how to hyperlink an article, but I just read this interesting article from 2005 in USA Today regarding U.S. maternity leave. There are two points I wanted to bring out. First, the article said that the reason policies are better in Europe is that the feminist movement in Europe focused on special treatment for mothers, such as maternity leave and childcare; while in the feminist movement in the U.S. focused on equal treatment for women, caring nothing at all for mothers. See the difference?

The other interesting part in the article is that American women just accept policy here as a given. No politician is going to win any supporters by advocating for nationally paid maternity leave and up to a year of job protection for new moms. The last two moms at my work (secretarial, fairly low paid positions, and one is a single mom) each returned to work at six and seven weeks respectively. That was the magic number because the United Way pays for our disability insurance, which provides six weeks pay at 60% of salary. This is generous by U.S. standards and we are supposed to feel grateful for our awesome benefits.

Paid maternity leave and longer job protection will result in increased birth rates, increased rates of breastfeeding, and increased family stability and happiness. Look it up, the U.S. birth rate is dropping, which may cause all sorts of future problems.

exciting announcement

In honor of returning to work in one week and one day, I am beginning a series on the working mother. Exciting, right?! I have lots and lots of thoughts on this and I find the topic fascinating, so I am going to break it down before it becomes completely jumbled. If you come for the pictures and not for the Deep Thoughts, feel free to disregard! Hopefully my girls can read this someday when they are sitting in their executive chair or living in a hut in Africa or sitting at home holding a baby and think, wow, it sure is easier today. Because the truth is, unless you are Heidi Klum or Tina Fey, it is nearly impossible to have it all. And the other truth is that women often get a raw deal when it comes to career and children.

This is such a great example. I saw Tina Fey on Oprah a couple weeks ago, and Oprah was asking her about being the big boss and about being a mom. Tina Fey said something along the lines of this: "well, you know, no one ever asks Donald Trump how it feels to be the boss or how it feels to be in charge of rich, high-level people. Or how it feels to be a dad and a boss. But I am asked in every interview."

And, if you come for pictures only, I will include one of those too :)

Maren's birth story

Definite TMI and longness alert. I am writing this for me to remember, so read at your own risk!

On Tuesday, February 22 (due date), I went to the doctor and they stripped my membranes, which apparently jump starts labor for some mothers. Well I guess it worked for me or it was time or some combination, but I was woken up Wednesday morning a little before 7 with regular, mild contractions. They were 6-7 minutes apart all day on Wednesday and I went to work, noticing the contractions like cramping in my back but not believing this might be the start of it. Wednesday night, we walked to Chizu and picked up dinner and came home and ate it. The contractions started getting stronger not long after that, but remained 6-7 minutes apart. I slept a little overnight between contractions and they were stronger still in the morning. By lunch time, I definitely needed to breathe through them. They were coming more like 5-6 minutes apart but lasting only 30-40 seconds. Grammie came and took Annie to her house for awhile and they brought back dinner (and Annie's awesome matching outfit with baby). I was pretty uncomfortable at this point and definitely not eating dinner, so they took Annie home with them for the night and Chris and I settled in.

Contractions were getting closer together (more like 3-4 minutes apart) but still not lasting a minute. But they hurt! Oh my goodness, it was all in my back and I just could not get comfortable in any position. "They" recommend hands and knees or sitting up and leaning over a chair for back labor, but sitting very straight up and down was the best of the worst positions for me. By around 8 we were talking about when to go to the hospital, but I was thinking that I wanted to stay home as long as possible. My dream VBAC would be a 12 hour labor where I labored at home (in the tub, with soothing music of course) and ended up at the hospital 9 cm dilated and nearly ready to push. No meds, no interventions.

I started feeling really nauseous from the pain, and I was afraid to take my blood pressure because pain can make it rise, and I was afraid of showing up at the hospital with a super high reading and being whisked off for surgery. I did turn on some hypnobabies and worked on meditating between contractions. It helped some for awhile, but a bad contraction would take me out of my semi-relaxed state. Around 11 pm on Thursday, I had an especially bad contraction, and the pain was too much. I started vomiting everywhere and couldn't stop. I was scared of the pain and the BP, and we decided to go to the hospital.

The ride to the hospital was not as bad as I had feared, and I kept thinking, we should stay at home, we are going to get there and I am going to be 2 cm dilated and this is going to be all for nothing. I felt a little better once I got to the hospital. (Why does this always happen when you go to the doctor?!) They checked me and I was 4-5 cm dilated so I was admitted. They asked if I wanted an epidural, and I said yes (INTERVENTION). (I had decided earlier that evening that this natural labor stuff was for the birds.) I got the epidural around 3 and it was great. Instant relief. The epidural was much different than the one I had with Annie. With Annie, it was really scary because it was as if everything below my waist was turned off. I couldn't feel anything and couldn't move my legs. At St. Luke's, they do a walking epidural (misnamed as they do not actually let you walk although you could), and I could feel contractions without the pain and could freely move my legs. It was as if all the back pain had just been taken away, and I could still breathe deeply through contractions so I knew the baby was getting oxygen. Chris and Mom were there, and we all slept a little until around 7. I ate a lot of ice and focused on staying positive.

Everyone was positive for me - the nurses (one of whom had had her own VBAC and had me as her first VBAC patient), my midwife. There was no talk of anything but success, but I was progressing slowly. Around 9 or 10 Friday morning, I was still not dilated to 6 cm. This was very mental for me, as that is as far as I got with Annie. They broke my water (INTERVENTION). Contractions were stronger but not strong enough per what they "like to see" so I was started on a super low dose of pitocin (INTERVENTION). I was a little scared at this point because so many things were happening that I had not planned and I had already been in labor for so long.

But, the pitocin took and I started dilating (relatively) more quickly. I passed 6 cm (YAY YAY YAY) and started to feel the urge to push sometime after 1 pm. This is all a bit fuzzy, but I pushed for just under two hours. Again, the epidural was great, because I could feel the contractions a bit, but I could feel the pushing distinctly. It hurt. I was a bit of a baby and yelled that I couldn't do it. I couldn't open my eyes and I was burning hot all over. Chris was awesome because everyone kept saying, you can do it, almost there, there's the head, but when Chris said it, I knew we were close! So finally out she came in a bizarre exhilirating feeling of relief. She was sunnyside up; i.e. backwards; so that is probably why I had (1) back labor; and (2) so much trouble pushing her out. Apparently proper positioning of baby is more important than size, and I had both against me.

Maren Katherine Prevatt was born on Friday, February 25, 2011, at 3:47 p.m., 9 lbs even, 21.25 inches and perfect! I got to hold her on my chest right away and Chris got to cut the cord. Those two moments alone were worth all the trouble and angst over the past 9 months. Also, she never left the room at all. When she came out, they were saying, can you see what it is? My mom was on that side, and she said something like, I don't know! I'm not sure! Ha! Then everyone was yelling at once, IT'S A GIRL! This was a COMPLETE SHOCK. It was the best surprise ever! Another little girl! She is amazing. Long and strong already with some medium brown hair, long hands and feet, and sweet little chin. She looks a lot like Annie, I think, but I'm not sure if that is just in an "all babies look the same" sort of way. We are in love.

Recovery has been even easier than a c-section than I had thought, and I didn't even have a tough c-section, really. This time, I had a second degree tear and lots of stitches, but I was still up using the bathroom myself two hours after delivery and showering myself the next morning. I have some pain, but there is just no comparison.

I am very fortunate, especially with all the interventions I had. I fully support natural labor, and I would try again with a future kid, but I am also 100% satisfied with this birth. I never would have made it without the epidural! I also had more support than I could possibly hope for. No one in my family ever questioned me questioning the norm of a repeat c-section. My midwife/OBs and even ROC were unfailingly positive and sincerely rooting for me. Every woman should have the opportunity to have the option of a normal birth.

new york city in italics

I have a very annoying habit while writing of overusing parentheses (I am sure you have noticed this). I do it here, I do it in emails constantly, and I am not sure why. An old friend named Kevin who I thought of out of the blue yesterday once told me that I write emails like a 12 year old but that was okay because he could hear my voice when he read them (this was when I was overusing ....). I think I mostly use parentheses because I think fast, I type fast, and I want to add new thoughts but I don't want to figure out where they logically fit in. Anyway, OUT with parentheses, New York City was so fabulous that it is time to move on to a new literary style.

Anyway, do you find this quote depressing?

"All the lives we could live, all the people we will never know, never will be, they are everywhere. That is what the world is."

-Alexander Hermon

Chris says this is depressing, but I disagree. Not that it is incredibly uplifting, but it is truth. Our lives our products of choice meets destiny and we have to be happy where we are. Bloom where we are planted.

Anyway, in another life, I would have been a hip urbanite! Don't they talk about New York in the springtime or something? It really is that great.

Chris won a trip to New York City for being such a work superstar, so we traveled to NYC with 44 of our closest Sysco friends :) We walked and wandered, held hands, ran through Central Park, had a fabulous late lunch/early dinner at one of Chris's favorite chef's restaurants, saw a rockin' Rock of Ages, went for a breathtaking sunset cruise, and capped it all off with a couple hours just hanging out on a rooftop being cool with my cousins. It was so nice seeing them. We had a great time and enjoyed each other, but, even more so, maybe fell in love with Sysco a little bit again. It is simply wonderful having a husband who enjoys his job. The view from our hotel room and more:

you can't do it all

If this week has taught me anything, it is that you (the figurative you meaning all mothers, including Heidi Klum and Angelina and all others who seem to have everything together) truly cannot have it all. Most days, I think I do. And I'm right. But I have (1) a husband whose hours are really great who works partly from home; (2) lots of family help, without which I would be lost; (3) a relatively flexible job and a one-mile commute; and, most importantly, (4) a pretty easy little girl, of whom I am just proud to death. This feeling of pride is rather new, actually, especially considering all her accomplishments: walking, talking, eating, smiling....

Those accomplishments, certainly huge, have been more inevitable achievements than sources of pride for me. She was going to walk, crawl, and feed herself. She was not necessarily, however, going to be a darling little girl at the hospital for 7 hours, half the time hooked up to and IV. Other non-inevitable wonders: she is pleasant every single morning, she is a joy at school and gets a great report every day, she is friendly and sweet and just a good mini-friend to have around for company. Her progress amazes me daily: talking nonstop, using her silverware almost all the time, counting, dancing, spinning, sliding. Some nice recent moments:

• always asking where everyone is. She'll look at me, raise her hands up, squint her eyes, shrug her shoulders, and ask, "Nana?"
• sees the pictures of Bert in her Sesame Street book and calls him "Pops." HA!
• A long time ago we tried to teach her "peace," as in, hold up your two fingers and say "peace." It didn't really take at the time, but now it seems that it has. If you hold up your fingers to count, she'll say, "one, peace, three, peace, five...." Apparently four is double-peace.
• lots of funny little words, "anya" for "orange," "doo doo" for "toby" (the toby I do not get because she can say all the sounds of his name)
• so creative and imaginative... putting all her friends down for naps and reading them a book, fake eating and drinking out of her tea set, constantly rearranging her furniture, putting on some music when she is ready to dance

Anyway, I rambled past my original point. I'm tired. And lucky. This week has been like having a newborn again. I have been up half the night, carrying Annie everywhere, picking up puke, worrying. Imagine if I didn't have an Annie and I had someone more difficult. What if I were doing this all myself? It is truly amazing what mothers accomplish every day and I thank Annie for putting everything back into perspective for me this week. sorry for the sap and the ramble.

reflections on life

I'm feeling rather reflective today. It is still the beginning of the new year, the time for reflection on life: where we are, where we thought we would be, where we are going. I did not make a New Year's resolution this year, but I would like to take a few moments to take in life.

What a year! The change from this time last year to now is not just external; it is an internal change that I know has occurred with me and, I think, with Chris too. Just some random thoughts:

• The love you feel for your child is unexplainable.



• I take for granted that we have a healthy, perfectly normal child.



• Life will never be perfect and you will never be "there." I appreciate this so much more since having Annie. Yes, I need to prepare for the future, but more than that, I need to enjoy every minute of right now. My new secretary said she put 52 marbles in a jar when her daughter was born and took one out every week for her baby's first year of life. Almost HALF of Annie's marbles are gone already. Yes, she will hopefully have a lifetime of marbles, but this time when she is little is precious.



• In life, you should do what you have to do and put on a happy face while you are doing it. More and more, I see a larger plan (is this God's plan?) for my life. Meg has a shirt, "live the life you love," but I prefer "love the life you live." Take joy in this world!

OK, that's all for now. Did anyone laugh at the marble thing? As I reread that part, I realized it sounds like Anne is 6 months old and already losing her marbles. Lord help her as there is plenty of crazy in her genes!

I may not have a New Year's resolution, but I am trying to take steps toward further simplifying my life. This year, I am going to focus on finances, planning and spending responsibly so we can have another baby and maybe even retire someday. Getting pregnant in 2009 would be wonderful, but we will have to see!

If you are here only for the pictures, check out this big girl! and GO GATORS by the way!