Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Friday, August 23, 2013

Blood ties

Have you heard of human microchimerism? It's when cells from a fetus pass through the placenta and establish cell lineages within the mother. Women carry fetal cells from babies they have carried. Those cells mix with the mother's own cells - the fetal cells circulate in the mother's bloodstream for decades after each birth. A mother's body incorporates into her own the cells of her children as if they recognize each other, belong to each other.

Additionally, maternal immune cells can sometimes be found in their offspring. My children carry me in their own bodies, mother and child joined forever, both beings bumping against each other every day. Mother and child do not fully separate at birth. We do not lose each other at that moment of severance. We are joined in an us, past, present, and future.

~ Without a Map by Meredith Hall
    - The scientific data is courtesy of Wikipedia

It's been eight years since I gave birth to Gracie. Eight years since our moment of severance. And now, states apart and nearly a decade later, she is still a part of me. And I am a part of her. Miles and time create distance, but do not separate us. She is a part of me and I of her. Her cells are a part of my blood, coursing through my veins every day. That blood transports the oxygen I breathe through my body and keeps me alive each day. 

I know that Gracie is a part of me still: literally, scientifically, and actually in a way greater than circumstances can dictate otherwise. I am with her. She is with me. We course through each others bodies every day. Distance and time separate us. But underneath everything within our control is a strong bond that can not be permeated. And we will continue to course through the others blood for decades still - mother and daughter - then, now, and always.

Sunday, August 18, 2013


I have had a lot of jobs. I've loved a few of them. But none of them have compared to where I work now. On Fridays at 4pm, we stop working, grab a beer out of the fridge and a plate of snacks and head into our unfinished ping pong area. We play or watch ping pong. We take it very seriously. And we sit around and talk. Sometimes about work, sometimes just about ourselves.

This Friday night, one employee ran to Bag N Save and grabbed two bottles of scotch. Five of us stayed until 10pm, talking about life and what is important in it. The reason our dynamic at work works so well is because we respect each other. We all do our best at our jobs and work together. When someone talks, the rest of us listen. It is in listening that you can see outside of yourself.

We are all so consumed with ourselves - usually only politely acting like we're listening when we're really thinking up what we're going to say next. Everyone wants to talk about himself. Everyone wants to be understood, but no one seems to want to understand anyone else. We are selfish creatures, yet we all want to make an impact on others before we die. Maybe to make an impact, we should listen once in awhile.

I left at 10pm on Friday, walked into the cool end-of-summer breeze. I stopped at my car before getting in. I felt the peace that you can only notice when you're not talking. I heard the cicadas singing their summer song. I am grateful that I have people who listen to me. I am grateful I know people I actually want to listen to.

One of the most sincere forms of respect is actually listening to what another has to say.
 ~ Bryant H. McGill

Saturday, August 17, 2013


 I seriously have the world's cutest and happiest little boy.

Thursday, August 8, 2013


I went to a seminar today. I know: seminars; gross. But I did get to see this video there:

It is a very fitting time. I started reading a memoir about a girl who got pregnant young and it turned her world upside down. I read it in bed last night, tears streaming down my cheeks from my own experience - remembering it all so vividly again.

Today is the day I start writing my memoir. It's time to stop being boring.

Saturday, August 3, 2013


I am pathetic. I am a weak person. As you all know, I quit caffeine back in February. And that stuck for awhile - two months, maybe. Until I told myself that having a coffee once in awhile certainly wouldn't make me an addict. And that's true, if you can get once in a while to stick. For me, however, it turned into daily. So here I am, dependent on caffeine once again after my intense rehab from it less than six months ago. I have no self-control. Zero. I admire the strong, as I take a swig of my coffee, realizing what a weakling I am.

So I'm at it again. I quit again. I just can't stop quitting. I'm a quitter. I quit piano lessons, some friends, some guys, some jobs. If you add up all the times I've quit anything, it will make your head spin. Hey, at least I'm good at something, right? The intensity of the caffeine withdrawal has passed. The first three days are the worst. And here I am, on day 4 (yet again). Maybe it will stick this time.

Maybe people will stop giving me gift cards to coffee houses and offering to bring me one at work. Yeah - it's their fault. It's the fault of the generous people in the world that I'm in this predicament. I love it when people fault others for their own failures. It makes me laugh. Like they have no control over their own lives and are completely reliant on others for everything. That's not me. So the first three sentences of this paragraph were irony, in case you didn't catch it.

Although people don't control my life, does caffeine? Do I have control of my own life without coffee guiding me? I fell asleep at nine last night (Friday night). Remember when we used to rage on Friday nights? How fall I've fallen. Right into my pillow. Brandon and I are on the same sleep schedule. A life where I am no longer reliant on caffeine is what I want. I have to remind myself of that. That I'm in control now. Fuck off, coffee! (But I really didn't mean that, I love you - it's the absence of you talking. Sometimes when you love something, you have to let it go).

And this time, let's hope it sticks for more than two months. I don't know how much more rehabilitation I can go through. I will look like a bad joke. Plus, the headaches are killer. Quitting something is easy. It's staying away that's hard.