A project I’ve been working on at work finally launched today. Check out the Google Quick Search Box. Trust me when I tell you that this product rocks. Some of the best people I know have been working on it and it’s truly awesome.
I’ve been thinking a lot about validation lately. And the motivation behind why I do what I do and why I don’t do certain things.
One of the things I do as a design team member is post my scrapbook layouts to a few sites. I have come to abhor this practice. Mostly because I’ve noticed that posting my work online anywhere immediately turns me into an obsessed psycho. Once I know it’s up there, I hit refresh every five minutes for the next few days just to see if anyone left a comment. And my sun rises and sets with those comments. On the rare occasion when I make it to a top ten or get a special mention, watch me dance.
A part of me used to think it’s just a silly reaction that comes from lack of confidence (which I have a lot of) but recently I’ve been thinking about how it’s more than that. How it’s damaging and how it plays to my insecurities even more so they never heal.
There are times I find myself scrapping a certain way (and this is not specific to scrapbooking, I used to write fiction and did the same exact thing back then or with photography) just because I know the community will like it. Just to get the comments. Or the approval. The validation. And, honestly, to me this is a big deal.
Everyone has their reasons for scrapping (or for thinking scrapping is stupid, low-class, waste of time. yes, i’ve heard it all) and I don’t judge people who do it for pure art. But, for me, it’s about the stories. It’s about capturing and pausing life. So I can remember it forever. So I can look back and smile, laugh, cry, appreciate. Cause life is worth remembering. Every part of it. Even the bad bits.
So, while I appreciate other people’s artsy pages, I want to journal on every single page I make. I want to do it without worrying about how much space it will take and how much the journaling might interfere with the rest of the design. I want to say all that I need to say. I want to be able to look at my page and know that I captured exactly what I wanted (needed) to capture. (Of course, I do like doing artsy things too and use other opportunities for that, like my tags.)
Yet, I seek validation nonstop. As soon as a page is finished, I have to show it to Jake. I have to post it on a board somewhere. It’s like if someone, somewhere hasn’t seen and liked it, it didn’t happen. It was the same way with my writing. I’d make Jake read my stories and we’d spend hours fighting about his comments (or lack thereof) and he doesn’t even read fiction!
So I need to find a way to stop this cycle. I need to learn to trust myself. Trust my pages. Trust that I am doing what I want to do and I don’t need someone else to tell me it’s beautiful. I don’t need someone else to approve. I just need to do what I do and learn that the person whose approval and validation matters is mine. And just mine.
So how do I do that? Do I stop posting on the boards altogether? Do I post but ignore the comments (or lack thereof)? Do I just post on my blog? Do I not even do that?
I honestly am not sure. But I think the first step is to take a little break from posting elsewhere. My blog only. The second step is to go through all my layouts and figure out which ones I like the most and why. Find my true north. And then make peace with it. After I find what’s “me,” I think the second step will be deciding what I want from the people “out there.” Maybe I want some true criticism or just techniques to learn or just cheering. Depending on what that is, I shall go look for the right community. I think that’s the most important step. Finding the right people. Not trying to become something I am not. Not trying to fit into a place that’s obviously not right for my goals. But finding the place that’s right for me (and I don’t mean the superfluous this-is-nice comments either. i don’t like giving those and don’t want someone to feel like it’s a chore they need to fulfill.)
So what if there’s no such community? Well, then I have two options: post nowhere or create the community I seek.
The most important step though is to stop seeking validation. Especially in the wrong places. How can I ask others to value my opinion when I don’t value it myself?
Across all the jobs I’ve ever had and all the reviews I got, my managers always agreed on one thing: “Karen gets things done.” It’s who I am. I make lists and then I execute them. I am one of those people who dots the i’s and crosses the t’s. I like to see things finished. I love having todo lists and I love crossing the items off. It’s what keeps me going.
So when something gets in the way of the ability to get things done, I feel very uneasy. I feel out of my power-zone and I get depressed. Quite quickly.
That’s how things have been here lately. Nathaniel is getting up every two hours at night and he doesn’t sleep during the day unless he’s in my arms. Which means nothing else is getting done.
And I mean nothing.
Even on days when I manage to shower, I am rarely out of my nightgown (since it allows the best nursing, I tell myself) and I sit here and stare at the computer most days.
And I am depressed. I feel guilty. We’re moving in a week and I feel bad for not going through and cleansing like I’ve been meaning to. I feel bad for David who is officially on summer break and already bored out of his mind. I feel bad for not creating anything. For not having started Nathaniel’s scrapbook yet. For not taking photos of anything but my kids. For not going out and enjoying the beautiful California sun. For not making the most of my maternity which I know will pass by so quickly.
The list goes on and on.
At the end of each day (which is 8pm for me lately) I get sad and depressed and think of all I didn’t do. I often tell Jake how horrible I feel. Sometimes I cry.
This is when the amazing and wise Jake tells me that I am doing the most important thing that needs to get done right now. I am raising our son. I am feeding him, taking care of him and loving him. This is all I need to do, he tells me. You are exactly where you need to be. he tells me.
I love him.
I am trying to remind myself that sometimes life requires pauses. Sometimes it’s important to slow down. To be in the moment. I am trying to forgive myself for the things I am not getting done. I am reminding myself that life flies by so quickly and this tiny, little creature who needs my help, love, and nourishment will soon grow up and I will miss these days. I will miss them so much. My todo lists will be there when this time passes. I will go back to getting things done. It’s what I do and the list of things that need getting done will never end.
I want to capture this before I forget all the details.
When I went to the doctor on Thursday and she told me I was 4cm dilated, I sort of had a hunch that the little one might come that night. I even went to bed telling Jake that tonight was likely the night, (tho I must admit I’d said similar things before).
Around 3am, I woke up feeling a bit funny. Had to go to the bathroom three times in a row ad had a bit of pain but nothing too strong. I lay down in bed but couldn’t fall asleep. Jake had to get up to go to work at 4am so I didn’t want to wake him up and decided to get up. As I got up, I felt some water and thought maybe my water broke. A trip to the bathroom showed some fresh blood so I got worried and called the hospital. They told me it could be my water and to come in.
So I woke up Jake and told him I thought it was time. We packed up the few things that were left, got some clothes for David, woke him up and piled in the car. Halfway to the hospital, we realized we didn’t have any shoes for David and went back home to get them. I still had no pain and was starting to worry that maybe it was all false and Jake was going to miss work on a particularly bad day to miss work. He kept trying to send an email as we drove to let them know he might not come in. We pulled over to do that, too, and then finally got to the hospital.
He dropped me off and went to park with David. I got one of the guards to walk me to the labor and delivery area and one of the nurses put me in a room to check if my water had indeed broken. It was 4:20am. As it turned out, it hadn’t. While I felt terrible about hauling everyone to the hospital, the nurse said she wanted to keep me there a while longer to see how far apart my contractions were. They were about 5mins apart. This normally would mean going back home but since it was my second labor, she said she wanted to check how dilated I was and that I might have to stay since things might progress pretty fast.
As it turned out, I was 5cm so she told me I wasn’t going home, it was likely that I’d have the baby in 4-5 hours. At this point it was 4:45am or so. Theoretically, Jake could still go into the city, trade and come back. But we decided that wasn’t a very good idea and that he should stay just in case. They moved me to the labor room and another nurse came to get my information. By now it was a little past 5am. As she put in the needles for the blood collection (for cord blood) and for the IV, I called my mom and told her Jake was bringing David over. The nurse couldn’t get my blood to come out so she put the IV in and decided to try the other arm. My arm is very black and blue even now. And she still couldn’t get the full 3 vials the cord blood registry requested. She sent them 2.5 vials.
The nurse asked me if I wanted an epidural and I told her that I thought I could wait a bit longer. The contractions were pretty bad when they came but they were still pretty far apart and didn’t seem to last very long. She got a bunch more infromation and asked me a few more times about the epidural in the next 20 mins. I finally told her to go ahead and call the anesthesiologist. As it turned out he was beginning someone else’s epidural and would be over in around 20 mins. Around 5:40 or so Jake came back. He had dropped off David and gone back home to get some chargers we forgot. A few minutes after he came, my contractions got pretty bad. After one really really bad one, the nurse decided maybe she should check me right then so she dropped everything and checked. As it turned out I was 9.5cm dilated. Which meant I was in full labor mode and it was too late for epidural or anything else.
They put an emergency call to the doctor on call and asked a resident to come over just in case. Two more horrifying contractions later, just knowing I wasn’t going to get the epidural was freaking me out. The resident told me that the baby was coming so I just had to push. She popped my water (which still hadn’t broken) and told me to push. As I felt I might be splitting in half, I pushed once really hard. Just then the anesthesiologist came and, with one look at me, he reaized it was too late for him and left. I begged the resident to get the baby out and pushed one more time. On the third push, I felt the baby come out and we were done. It was 6:04am.
As I had requested, they gave the baby to me immediately and cleaned him while he was on me. He was really really purple. And it turns out his cord was wrapped around his head so it’s a good thing I didn’t have to push too long, we might have ended up in a c-section. He turned pink pretty quickly and his 1-min apgar score was 8 and his 5-minute one was a 9.
At this point, the doctor showed up and when she realized the baby was out, she started to collect the cord blood as the little one and I bonded.
And then they finally took him away to weigh and measure him. 6lbs 7oz and 20.5 inches.
After that, we spent some time relaxing in the labor room, calling our parents etc. The nurse left for the morning nurse who turned out to be the mother of one of David’s classmates which was HUGELY lucky because she got us a highly-desired private room at the hospital. On the way to our room, we stopped by the nursery for a K-shot and his first bath. And then we finally got to settle into our room and start the recovery process.
All in all, an extremely quick labor. It was 1 hour and 44 minutes from the time I arrived at the hospital to the time he was born. Thank God Jake didn’t go to work and had he spent an extra few minutes at home, he might have missed the whole labor. I got realy lucky and had no tears, nothing at all really so I had almost nothing to cause recovery issues. Most importantly, the little one turned out to be perfectly healthy and wonderful.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about the power of expectations. Or more like the downside of having too many of them. I’ve decided that one of the biggest contributors to unhappiness is when expectations don’t align with reality.
When I was pregnant with David, Jake and I took a baby prep class and a month after our kids were due, we all came back to the same hospital to meet and talk about our babies and how things went, etc. We noticed, at the time, that the couples who had an unexpected problem (however small it was) felt like their hospital/birth experience was terrible and in the cases where everything went smootly, the parents thought the hospital was amazing. There might have been some cases where the staff varied enough to cause this, but I really think it had more to do with the alignment of expectations vs reality. If you go into it thinking you’ll have a one night stay at the hospital and end up having to stay 3 days, suddenly it’s the hospital’s fault or something went wrong. Instead of focusing on the good, like how your baby is healthy, you focus on how things didn’t go as planned.
This is true in the smallest things in life like getting caught in a red light when you expect to be somewhere at some particular time. It’s also true in the biggest things like career, love, home, etc.
I’ve been trying to figure out what this means to me. Do I lower my expectations? Do I purposefully not set expectations? But aren’t expectations also a bit of a driving-force behind acheivement? How are they different from goals? I am not entirely sure of the answers. But I did decide that I will spend more time thinking about the crux of the issue and try to figure out what matters most to me and hope that, that particular thing goes well and try to refrain from having any more expectations than that. So, for example, concentrate on having a healthy and happy baby and let go of getting to control the timinig, location, and other, smaller issues.Or focus on getting somewhere safely even if it means I have to be a few minutes late. Cause safety matters more. Spend the extra few seconds to hug or calm David down even if it means I get that much less sleep.
I guess it’s a way of learning that you can’t have it all and you should stop expecting it. And it’s also taking your expectations, especially the subconscious ones where you just take things for granted, and living each day more aware of them and making sure you’re not expecting more than what’s realistic and, more significantly, more than what matters.
As someone who struggles with feeling creative constantly, I found this to be an inspiring and thought-provoking lecture. It’s worth the 20-minutes of your time. [thanks to viv who led me to the link]
Also, I loved Eat, Pray, Love and look forward to her next book.
Jake and I were listening to Gladwell’s new book Outliers on the way to Los Angeles a few weeks ago and amongst many other interesting points, one of the things he talked about was the ability to master anything by putting 10,000 hours of work into it.
This is a well-talked-about number: 10,000. It comes down to about three hours a day, everday, for ten years. It may seem like a long time to you but it somehow didn’t to me. Instead, it got me thinking. If I were to spend three hours of my time for ten years on something, what would I want it to be? What’s the one thing I’d want to accomplish?
The thing is, there are many things I wish I were better at: photography, painting, mixed media, physics, math, psychology, swimming, tennis, running, drawing, languages…Just to name a few. But if I were to accomplish one thing, I always come back to the same one: writing a novel and getting it published.
I want to write. I want to get published. Not self-publish. I cannot explain the reasons. It’s just a craving I have. I don’t need it to be a bestseller and I don’t need to write five more. Just one book published by a reputable company would make me feel fulfilled. Ten years ago, I was spending a lot of time writing. Now: none.
So it got me thinking…if this is really my biggest wish, maybe I should start spending some time on it. Shouldn’t I?
If you were to spend 10,000 hours mastering something, what would it be?
A few weeks ago my good friend Jess came over for a playdate between her son and David. While the two played, we chatted. At some point, Jess said “you get so much done!” and I told her how there’s a long list of things I don’t do (like cooking) so I have more time. She insisted that even so I was more productive than the usual person.
I am not sure if that’s true but it is something I’ve heard before so it got me thinking. And I think I’ve realized the two important factors to what helps me get things done.
The first one is commitment. Or maybe more like a neurosis. When I decide to do something, I feel an inexplicable sense of responsibility. I don’t like to leave things unfinished. I’d rather never start than leave unfinished. It doesn’t matter if it’s for work or for my personal todo list. Once I decided to do it, I will do it. So this commitment part is the first crucial element since without thinking it’s important, it’s relatively hard to choose to get something done instead of relaxing.
The second has to do more with timing. If the task can be finished in a day, I will finish it. I’d rather lose sleep than leave it unfinished. Not only will I never do it but it drives me completely insane when others do it. That’s why I was up late last night moving karenika to its new domain. I couldn’t bear the idea of this task dragging over days.
But there are many tasks that cannot be finished in a single day. Like the 365 photos or weekly tags or scrapbooking or writing a book for example. For those, I use another trick: routine. As much as possible, I try to establish a routine so that it’s a recurring event on my schedule. I take my daily photos every morning unless I know we have an upcoming event later in the day (like the doctor’s appointment we had earlier this week.) I do my tags each weekend (sometimes sooner if I have an inspiring idea). I do my AMM kit the first weekend after I receive it. I just sit and do it. I don’t give myself the option of postponing.
I know that there are a lot of other tricks to productivity (like “Eat the frog” which is doing the thing you’re least looking forward to, first) but it turns out, for me, what matters most for long term productivity (especially for non-work related things that don’t really have to be done) is the commitment and setting up a routine.
I’ve been thinking a lot about marriage and commitment lately. As I’ve hinted in the last couple of weeks, we’ve been hearing a lot of bad news from friends lately. Several marriages or long-term relationships (and I mean really long term) are falling apart and the news is making us sad. This happened several years ago when we first moved to San Diego, too. At the time, four or five couples called us in a matter of two weeks to let us know about their divorce and it had put me in a similar mood that I’ve been in for the last several weeks.
Pensive. Scared. Sad.
I am not sure why this news seems to come in batches or maybe the batches are more memorable so I don’t remember the intermittent ones as much. Either way, I’ve been really sad thinking about my friends and all the years they devoted into their relationship and how it’s dissolved. Especially when there are children involved. I still remember my parents’ divorce very clearly. Even though our story ended wonderfully with my parents getting back together, I know that’s really rare and divorce is really hard on kids. (so is a bad marriage, i know.)
A few weeks ago dooce had a post about which one is harder: marriage or motherhood. Of course, they each have their own challenges and it depends on the circumstances but one of the things someone said stuck with me: it’s much easier to take your marriage for granted. You know a baby/kid needs help and care. You don’t tend to forget that often. Yet, we don’t always remember the same thing about marriage.
Marriage (or relationships) need attention and care, too. Your significant other, as a person, needs attention and the marriage itself also needs care. A lot of communication, reserved time, tenderness, forgiveness, and love. But, I think most of this gets lost in the shuffle. Between work, taking care of kids and keepping daily motions of life, we tend to forget or ignore the little moments. We let resentment build up or, even worse, we simply give up and let things rot. And then, sometimes years later, we look up and realize there’s nothing left. That’s what I am most scared of because I never want to let that happen.
Despite our bad moments, I know exactly why I chose Jake over others in the world and I know everything I love about him and all the ways in which he’s a perfect fit for my life. I don’t want neglect to wear that out. I want to be the kind of person who remembers to take care of our love and relationship just like I care for David. I know that some days I just get too lazy or too tired.
But then weeks like these come and I realize that the cost of such laziness is way too high.
I can’t remember when I gave up making resolutions but I have. I decided
I don’t want to wait until the first day of the new year to be a new me.
Why not do it today?
Not that I stuck to them when I used to make them. I have realized over
the years that I will never be as thin as I want to be or do as many
things as I’d like to get done in a day or year. The books won’t really
get written, until they do. I won’t learn as much, be as much, read as
much, give as much as I’d like to. Until I do. And when I do, I will.
The first day of the year won’t change any of these facts and why tie it
to something so random?
What I am trying to do instead is have more focus areas for myself each
year. Sort of aligned with Ali Edwards’ word of the year, I am picking
themes for myself and trying to make sure I focus on it all year long so
it’s ingrained in who I am by the end of the year. Last year, my word
was “journey.” I wanted to focus on enjoying the journey that is life
and not always the destination. Enjoy the little moments. Appreciate
life. Stop. Breathe. Look Around. I think I achieved some of it and, of
course, it will be ongoing work but I do feel it to be more a part of
who I am now.
I decided on this year’s word a few months ago when I was preparing a
class I taught (which is when I made the calendar photographed above).
Anyone who really really knows me would know that I am not peaceful. I
don’t feel comfortable in my own skin. I’ve always felt different and
not in a good way. Like something’s wrong with me. Like I don’t belong.
Like I am not good enough. And will never be.
This is not tied to any particular achievement. I’ve achieved a lot in
my life. I’ve been really lucky and blessed to have a great education,
fantastic career, amazing and loving husband and truly the best kid in
the world. And that’s just a few of them. But this feeling of not
measuring up (to something undefined) doesn’t go away. I compare to
others constantly but only in ways where I feel like I am not as good.
Not as intelligent. Not as pretty. Not as nice. Not as talented. I can
go on and on.
So this year I decided to work on the most important concept of all (for
me.) Achieving peace and blooming into my own. This is my year to
discover and embrace who I am. Be the best of me and love it. Relax and
not criticize myself. Not compare myself to anyone. Not worry about
being not good enough. Stop and appreciate the truly amazing things in
my life. Be thankful. Shed the past and be open and welcoming to the
great future. But mostly be in the present.
God willing, I will have another baby this year and I want to make sure
my kids have a peaceful mom who is happy with who she is (flaws and
all). I want to make sure my husband has a wife who is happy. If there’s
one thing I’d like to teach my kids, it’s that it’s ok to be whomever
they are. And how better to teach it than by example?
Looking back, this has appeared to be an uneventful year. At least
compared to what’s coming in 2009. But, I think this was the year that
set the groundwork for a great 2009. Jake getting a job, my getting
pregnant, and David being fully in school is each a promise for an
interesting, exciting new year that will take our little family to the
next level.
I am excited about 2009. Worried, too, of course, as it’s my style. But
mostly excited. For now, I am happy to say good-bye to a great year.
Tomorrow, we’ll say hello to the new one.
I hope you and your loved ones have a fantastic New Year’s Eve. We’re
planning a quiet one over here, filled with Turkish food, cuddles, and
great TV.
I hope you’re all enjoying the holiday season. Over here we celebrate
Hannukah, Christmas and New Year’s so it’s a long month of merriness. We
had a marvelous morning of waffle breakfast, opening presents, painting
David’s new solar system and now he’s napping while Mommy relaxes for a
bit. Hope yours is going wonderfully as well.
