I Leaned In So Far I Fell Over

Have you ever wanted to change your life? Have you ever had the feeling you were in the wrong place, but only to show you how to get to the right place? If you have then you intuitively understand the intersection of confusion and knowing that I have lived for the last eight years. 

Motherhood is complicated, and first-time motherhood is arduous terrain. A few weeks after my son, who is now eight, was born his Godmother uttered chilling words I will never forget, "From now on your life will be dominated by the search for efficient and safe childcare." The joy and satisfaction I had holding my son after I survived 14 hours of labor leeched out through one of the folds in his blanket. Her words hit me at me at my weak spots. Between the two of us Ryan and I have five healthy parents. That's plenty of hands to go around! However, as days turned to weeks, months and years, I found the reliance on family for childcare was a pipedream. Compounded by the fact that we lived halfway across the world in Italy when Hunter was born, it dawned on me that Hunter's Godmother was prescient. 

I viewed my career as an essential part of my identity. Independence is a requisite component to my happiness. It was why I worked so hard to graduate from college and grad school and secure a career. I could not, should not give that up to RAISE A BABY. EVER. No one I knew did this. My peers hired nannies or seemed to have a mythical set up that ensured their offspring were always cared for no matter what. What happened next in my journey was a surprise. 

My resourceful nature was key to balancing motherhood and career. My aunt stayed with us for the first three months after I gave birth. Then Ryan's mother for three months after that. By then Hunter was ready for daycare. I cried that first day at drop off but prioritized getting back to work. I needed my identity to be tied to my career. The alternative title, MOM, more precisely STAY-AT-HOME MOM terrified me. Waitlist navigation became an essential part of my existence. When the list for daycare, preschool, kindergarten and later specialized elementary schools opened, closed and how many were on the list dominated my life. 

One of us, typically Ryan, travels a few times a month. I juggled childcare needs and stuffed down any sense of guilt that tried to make its way to the surface. The juggling act was trickier Stateside. Although closer to family, they weren't as willing or available to us as we had hoped. 

Most unfortunately, I became determined to prove I could do it all. Buoyed by Sheryl Sandberg's book Lean In, I continued to push for a defining career worthy of my experience, education and talent. I needed to be challenged and respected at work. I pushed, networked and applied until I got as close to my previous high-powered roles as I could. When I finally arrived at my cube back in Corporate America a sense of unease slowly began to creep over me like slug on the concrete after a humid spring rain. The title was impressive inside the organization, although coordinator had an administrative ring to my seasoned ear. The pay was better than any other since my arrival, but below my worth. 

I tried to treat Ryan's schedule as a minor inconvenience (he travels two to six months out of the year). An event to be managed. Something to be worked around. I reveled in the idea that everyone was looking at me marveling at how I got it all done. "Isn't she amazing.," I hoped they whispered as they closed their eyes before bed. This was cold comfort as the pandemic forced me to re-evaluate what matters most. Until next time on The Cat Who Swallowed the Canary.

I am a Tedx Savannah 2020 Speaker

Me volunteering at TEDx 2 years ago

Seven years in Italy is a long time. It was a wonderful, most of the time. I am even grateful for the times when I wasn't living the dream. Now that I am back and just celebrated my third anniversary in Savannah I happy to report I am getting the hang of living in America again. I have fully reintegrated into American society. What does that mean? How is that different from say last year or the year before?
so glad that you asked. Last year and certainly the year before I felt very much the outsider with my nose pressed again the window looking in fogging it with my mouth breathing. I felt keenly out of touch with nature of how things move and work here. The rhythm of the language, the decrease in the number of seasons and the skittish, but sometimes rogue wildlife all took some getting used to.

Let's begin with the seasons. In NYC and Vicenza there are four seasons. Yes, yes, climate change has made them shorter and more extreme but there are four of them. Here in Savannah not so much. There are two seasons not so hot and too hot. Next is the accent. Once so strange to my to my ear. Who am I kidding? The southern accent is still unfamiliar to my ear, but there are some idiomatic expressions that are unique and helpful. More than once I have had the urge to us "y'all" instead of the plural you. It just fit the situation. I always forgo the urge and use something more natural to my natural way of speaking and say "you guys" or "hey". But my all time fave is: "It bees like that sometimes". Oh it is such a wonderful expression, and I get tremendous use out of it. Here it is in action: I went to that new comfort food restaurant. The food was delicious, but they got my order wrong and the service made me fee like I interrupted the server's lunch break. "It bees like that sometimes" is the perfect response.

I saved the best for last. The skittish yet oftentimes bold wildlife around here is a mystery and a delight. There is a gaggle of geese that commandeer the streets whenever they damn well please. There are easily 50 or more gees that will parade down the street here and we all know to get out their way when we see them coming. We had to rescue a turtle once, build a barrier to keep an armadillo out of the yard and finally deer can be seen grazing in the grassy areas of the sidewalks in front of the houses in my neighborhood.

In spite of the unusual challenges I have made incredible headway. Two years a go I volunteered at TEDx Savannah. First I created a role for myself that didn't exist, which allowed me to interact with all the speakers and organizers. Then I was invited to come back the second year to assist one of the organizers and this year I will be a speaker. Terry, my Toastmaster mentor has been gung ho about being a TEDx presenter for as long as I have known her. She believed the round of applause at the end of her talk would enrich her life and take her to heights yet unknown. I don't crave the approval of people I don't know. Instead I long for the approval of the people I do know.

However, I am learning that the only approval I truly need is my own. It is taking some time to get used to that idea but, I am on my way.

The 2019 Round Up

Turkey legs are a thing at Magic Kingdom

Although we are securely in 2020 I feel a 2019 roundup is necessary because it was such an amazing year. I found my footing in Savannah, both professionally and personally. To be sure there were challenges, but the rewards were better than I could have imagined, and I am grateful for all in equal measure. 

The highlights of the year were easily the Xena Retreat and the new job. To have one of those happen in the year would have been amazing. Instead I had the opportunity to spend three days immersed in my favorite television show and meet other women more obsessed than I am with Xena. Then when the timing was just right an amazing job opportunity plucked me out of obscurity. And just like that I was back in the corporate game. It is not the most exciting job, but it is in my field, near the house and I have enough flexibility to have lunch with Hunter once a week.  

We had dear friends from Italy spend the holidays with us. We took a quick trip to Orlando and spent a few fun filled days at Disney and Cape Canaveral. It was exhilarating to have a piece of my Italian life here with me in Savannah. 

I also chose to work with a life and business coach this year. I met Samantha almost immediately after my arrival in Savannah via Meetup. All the chaos you have likely heard about in the news is true, but the folks holding down the the fort at WeWork and are keeping the Meetup.com social networking platform alive, but I digress. I attended a few of Samantha's events and we soon became friends. She introduced me to a few other women online and a few others in Savannah as well. I watched the people she surrounded herself with grow, change and become more. Of what you may ask? More of who they are. 

It began to dawn on me that I had an unmooring after Italy. Seven years away from friends and family can do that to girl from time-to-time. With new adjectives and roles in my life I often felt adrift. I am American but, there are still a great many cultural obsessions that I missed out on and often don't relate to here. Memes, gifs., and a few Microsoft word shortcuts to name a few.

Let's welcome Samantha to the performance area that is my life. Although we are friends I wanted to change that relationship into something of a more professional nature. I had never done anything like that before. Your therapist can never be your friend. Same as professors, well perhaps professors can become your friend. That is a story for another day. Today we are discussing my decision to hire my friend as a business and life coach. 

When I approached Samantha with the idea she was surprised. She knew I had a business  idea I was trying to get off the ground. I had attended a few online workshops with her for that, but then I realized I needed to do some inner work to fix a vibrational issue. I knew she could help with that too. I was very clear with her: I want to vibrate higher and I think you can help me do that.  

We agreed to 12 sessions over the course of seven of the best months of my life. All of our sessions were online and recorded so that I could view them later if I needed (I have not needed.) She gave me books to read, The Four Agreements. Videos to watch, The Circle of Influence. There was even homework.

I was racing to work after dropping my son off at school one morning. A police officer stopped me for going 62 mph in a 55 mph zone. He let me off with a warning but, the traffic stop scared me half to death. Traffic stops gone wrong are allover the news and social media. Samantha helped me to pull apart all the fear and anxiety around the traffic stop. In some of our sessions we tackled 9/11, but mostly importantly she helped me regain the inner confidence I lost after a bout with postpartum depression and the house fire in Italy. There is always more work to be done, but the work I put in last year has set me up for a terrific 2020. 

If You Ask for What You Want, There Is a Good Chance You Will Get It

A brief description of EMDR

Over the years this little space I created to help my friends and family stay in touch with my comings and goings became a place for me to express my thoughts, hopes and some fears. In the last days of 2018 I used it to push through the end of the year with a flourish of consistency. I am beginning that practice earlier this year. I intend to post more frequently to close out 2019 strong. After all we start a whole new decade in a few short months.

And what a year 2019 has been. Since my previous post I landed a dream job at a local engineering firm. In fact it is one of the most prestigious engineering firms in the region. It came as a bit of a surprise to me a few months ago when a cursory glance at my calendar indicated that September 11 would fall on Wednesday. The job was still quite new and taking off so soon into my tenure seemed like one of the least favorable action steps I could take. Still I wondered if the alternative, going to work, was the best option available to me. Eventually, it became less of choice. A big presentation was due on Wednesday, September 11 at my new job.

As you may recall or if you are new to this space, I worked in WTC 2 and was directly outside of the building when the second plane crashed into the building and exploded. Being overseas for the last seven years both helped and hindered my healing from the horror I saw that day. On the one hand I was far removed from the memories and triggers of the day. On the other hand I was isolated because I chose not share the information. In Italy there were commemorations of course. I even tried to participate once only to realize the trauma was still very raw for me. This year was the first time I was in a new environment in the US with many variables outside of my control. The day did not go well for me. I was plagued by worry, fear and flashbacks. I controlled what I could. I asked my new boss to send an email asking for discretion around the topic because there was a survivor at the firm. I also asked that she not mention it was me. Not everyone got the email. It was a tough day. I called a close friend who put a name to what was happening to me: PTSD.

I was doubtful of her professional diagnosis at first (she is a licensed clinical practioner), but I trust her. All I could articulate was that I felt unsafe inside my own body. I wanted to be free of that fear. In that moment I surrendered. I let go of holding onto myself and reached out for help. My friend recommended EMDR, a form of psychotherapy used to treat PTSD. It is quite popular in military populations, and I have had exposure to it as a result. I did not think I had PTSD and never thought EMDR was something I would benefit from in my particular circumstance.

Frankly it was a lot to process quickly: (1) I have PTSD and (2) I need to go to therapy for something that happened in 2001. I often compared myself to the people who lost their lives, loved ones or their health that day. I suffered no such losses and therefore felt less deserving of healing. As I began to process those thoughts I came to see their disorganization and the need for reorganization.

I had my fourth session today. It is weird after all this time to speak about 9/11in the present tense. Namely because it was almost 20 years ago, and I am a vastly different type of human now. I am a recovering human doing. I have transitioned to a human being. That's a little something I learned in my sessions.

I also have a busy life and wondered if it was wise, necessary or important enough to make space for it. I had concerns about bringing this to the forefront of my life. This type of work is unsettling, but I decided to move forward with caution. It has been a challenge, but deeply and powerfully rewarding. Areas of my life long siloed are reintegrating into the whole again. The memories are intense, the connections are vibrant and exhilarating. Most of all I am learning that asking for help gets you the thing you want. And we are all deserving of that.

Welcome to the Terror Dome

Like many of you I have a few phobias. They are all well managed. I hate to fly, but love to travel. With meditation, prayer and glass of prosecco I do just fine on planes. Since the apartment fire in Vicenza I am a tad claustrophobic. I cannot tolerate small, windowless spaces for very long at all. High bridges over large bodies of water are another trigger to panic, but if I am prepared for them I do just fine. The problem today was I did not have a chance to prepare.

I had a meeting with the CEO of a nonprofit this afternoon. The headquarters are on the far side of town in a neighborhood I am not well acquainted with yet. He asked me to create a proposal for my dream project for the organization. I was excited because I spent the days leading up to the meeting studying their website and digital footprint. I left feeling inspired. The position could have a tremendous impact on the community. Before I headed to my car I called my friend who helped to schedule the meeting. We met briefly in her small, windowless office. My chest started to feel a bit tight, but nothing I could not relax through.

As I walked to my car I considered a small celebratory gesture. As in a decadent cocktail before happy hour, in the middle of the afternoon. The only problem was the reception in that part of town was sporadic. Too weak to find a the kind a trendy spot that could make my fancy cocktail. I had a general idea of how to get home. I decided against the celebration since the cell signal was so weak. I had a general idea of where I was and started driving in the direction of my house, but before my GPS could get a signal I found myself on the ramp for the Talmadge Memorial Bridge to South Carolina (SC).

Talmadge Memorial Bridge

Let's stop right here to look at the bridge. This is a scary view. (I did not take the picture. It came up when I googled Talmadge Bridge.) The steep incline limited my field of vision. The narrow lanes  were recently expanded due to the frequent collisions. On the other side is a steep decline that leads to a two lane road surrounded by marshland. Good grief was I scared. The name of the bridge is under scrutiny as the City of Savannah wrestles with its confederate past. Eugene Talmadge was famously elected to Governor of Georgia four times from 1933 to 1937, 1941 to 1943 and a fourth term in 1946. He died before his inauguration. He was a well known white supremacist. He actively promoted segregation and racism in the Georgia University system during his tenure. The Girl Scouts (and me) would love to have it re-named for their founder and Savannah native Juliette Gordon Low. 

That is probably enough history for today. Back to my detour. I was not happy about my impromptu bridge crossing and less happy to have crossed state lines into SC. I have nothing against SC. It is a beautiful state. Charleston is gorgeous and Beaufort is a delight. I just did not want to be there today. I was on one of those roads that will not let you make a U-turn for miles. It was such a pain, but the worst part was I had to cross the bridge to get home. I would have done almost anything not to cross that bridge again. 

When I finally made it back on the bridge in the right direction, I stayed as far left as possible and went as fast as I possibly could. Which was about 45mph because my deepest fear is that I will loose control of the vehicle and end up plunging over the side of the bridge. Geez, I watch too much TV. I made it back just in time to have a margarita with my neighbor before her kid came home. I left when her bestfriend called. She has lupus and just had her hip replaced. It was grounding reminder that even when faced with deep seated phobias, things could be much more challenging. I have so much to be grateful for everyday. Even when I end up across state lines life is very good. 

This is more than just a coincidence

The subtitle of the blog is I don't know how this happened because I often find myself in unexpected situations. This week was filled with them. It began with a request for a middle school substitute teacher at the school I visited last week. Yesterday was my first day, and it was filled with all the energy and excitement you should expect from a new job teaching at an exclusive prep school.

The next morning (today) I was up at 6am excited to volunteer at the Savannah Book Festival. I was there to help because hoards of people were expected to descend on the Savannah Theater at 7:30am. I have to say book lovers are the nicest people, and the lines were very orderly. I even met a couple from New York. We were all very excited to meet Douglas Preston. He is the best-selling author who has written about Amanda Knox, the American college student who was studying in Italy when she was accused, convicted and exonerated of murdering her roommate Meredith Kercher. I obsessed about this case for years, oscillating between her guilt and innocence. Our family had an unfortunate experience with the Italian authorities as well when an electrical fire destroyed our home. Douglas also had a jarring experience with Italian law enforcement while doing research for a novel in Italy. And so it was with deep excitement that I arrived at the festival looking forward to meeting Douglas. That is when it happened. At the moment I most believed it could happen. Just before the crowds came. The doors to the Savannah Theater were open and he walked in with an easy stride. I said good morning Douglas. He was warm, affable and genuine. I told him I spent seven years in Italy and was fascinated with the Amanda Knox case. We became fast friends, quickly transitioning to hushed tones when necessary. The most incredible conversation of my life was cut short when my supervisor for the event needed my help. When told her I was talking to Douglas she swept him deeper into the theater to set up for the most exhilarating presentation ever.

Selfie with Douglas Preston 

Some of us are better one-on-one while others are better in groups. Then there are the gifted few who are spectacular at both. Douglas Preston is one of those people. He told the wildly fascinating story of his new book, The Lost City of the Monkey God. It is a magnificent tale of his expedition in Honduras to one of the last scientifically unexplored areas on the surface of the earth. He gave the audience a synopsis of the adventure in a forest with deep vegetation, deadly snakes and quick sinking mud that could easily swallow an adult human. He peppered his talk with searing details about the deadly fer-de-lance snake known as the ultimate pit viper. It was sleeping under a member of the expedition's hammock. A former British SAS (a combination of our Army and Navy special forces) on the team stabbed it in the neck which caused the snake to explode into a violent cloud of dust and venom. I was riveted to my seat. The SAS guy cut the head off and left it as a warning to the others on the expedition because where there is in one fer-de-lance there are many. He answered a few questions about the Honduran government's plans to turn the site into a tourist attraction. He said they would like to but, almost everyone on the expedition contracted an incurable tropical disease known as leishmaniasis. They were treated at the National Institute of Health and are doing well. He made a joke about it being highly contagious. I recovered from that scare quickly. Then the lights came up and I sat in my seat anguished that I did not get a picture. I exited the theater with the other attendees when I remembered to be present in every moment. That's when I recognized his backpack and said, "Mr. Preston," touching his shoulder lightly. "Mr. Preston, can we take a selfie?" He turned to me with a warm smile and said yes let's go outside for better light.

I thought the Amanda Knox, Italy, Savannah, Douglas Preston confluence was just a terrific coincidence, but while reading his Wikipedia entry I saw that Richard Preston is his brother. Richard Preston is the author of the Hot Zone. The breakout non-fiction thriller about Ebola. Hunter's Godfather is a Veterinarian in the Army. He recommended the Hot Zone to me when I was going through my fascination with Ebola. It gave me a healthy dose of reality while scaring the heck out of me. I am not sure why all those details came together at this moment, but I am off to start reading Douglas' books. Something important happened today. It does not make sense yet, but what I know for sure is that it was an extreme pleasure to meet such an accomplished journalist, author and human. Yay!

I love Savannah!

The unknown future rolls towards us

I am not feeling especially inspired today. In fact this week I felt discouraged. As I sat in my discontent I thought about my goal to write more blog posts, and not just when I feel energized. What if I used this outlet when I am not feeling great to inspire me. If writing about feeling great made me feel even better, it should follow that a blog post could serve as a little pick me up.

Why the feeling of discontent? To be perfectly honest I feel powerless about tomorrow, the last day of 2017. It is coming no matter what I do or do not do. It is the end of a tumultuous year, but also the beginning of year since we left Italy. I still have somewhat mixed feelings about leaving Italy. I will miss the shopping season that starts next month, and all that became familiar to me over my seven year stay.  Most of all I miss the security my life had in Italy. There was a great deal of predictability in my life there. So much of my life was purposefully organized around a routine. I needed that there. That predictability bred stability and I love stability. As counterintuitive as it sounds it allows me to be unpredictable, which I also love.

Sarah Connor in Terminator 2

But now I feel as if I am Sarah Connor at the end of the second Terminator movie. Where nothing is planned out. It is all up for grabs. To include where I go next with my career, Ryan's deployment and pre-school. Which brings me to the discouragement that crept over me. I had these bright ideas last week to launch a multi-million dollar business. I wondered how I would feel when I was described as the Gwen Stefani of fashion, wellness and empowerment. As they say I was counting my coins. I pitched the idea to a few would be partners/investors and quickly realized it was going to take a lot more thought and planning to get this idea off the ground. My week was full of tough decisions, electrifying conversations and the specter of failure at every turn.

The energy of the week has leveled off. The majority of the conversations ended with its an interesting idea, and I do not say this to discourage you but, you need to think this through more. How to coax a hobby into a sustainable idea that makes money. That is what I was left to chew on as the week came to a close. It feels like the biggest challenge of my life. It feels like if I get this right I could be living my best life ever. It feels like paralyzing terror.

I gave myself a until the new year to get back in the saddle. I plan to speak with Samantha my coach, speed walk through my neighborhood (it relieves stress and is not as damaging to my knees as running) and for goodness sakes get help to write a business plan.

There is no telling what the New Year will bring, but by the grace of God I will push through my fears, my predisposition to procrastinate and find a way to make money doing what I love. God help us all. In the meantime I went to the backyard to enjoy the crossbow Ryan bought me for Christmas.

Channeling Sarah Connor in my backyard wearing my PJs

The Best Four Days

You know that episode of Xena: Warrior Princess in season 2 when she goes to the Land of Chin and she is dressed for the those below freezing nights? It is one of those high adventure story lines that gave the fans details about Xena's backstory.

Well that episode was running through my head all weekend as I paraded the streets of Eastern Europe, specifically Croatia and Slovenia. It was one of those unplanned adventures that ended up being the best four days I have had in long, long while.

To get the full effect of the trip I need to provide some context. Ryan and his brothers are serious Stars Wars geeks, with my father-in-law serving as the ring leader of the group. When he suggested Ryan come home for Christmas so they could all go see the Stars Wars premier together Ryan became a little teary eyed. It all happened so fast and my work is so crazy at the moment, it was impossible to get away for three weeks with a little over a week's notice.

Friends and family thought I was crazy. Who stays in a foreign country ALONE for Christmas, their birthday and New Years? It probably sounds incredibly lonely, sad and downright depressing. My dad kept asking how long I was planning to wait before I bought my ticket. To be honest I did think about buying a last minute more than once, but I didn't. My aunt asked how I could let Ryan take Hunter away. I reminded her that Ryan is Hunter's father not some random guy from who-knows-where. I stuck with the plan and part of the plan included taking care of our three cats while Ryan took Hunter on his own very big adventure.

It was Hunter's first transatlantic flight and it went very smooth. He watched movies, ate, slept and was in great spirits when they arrived at their final destination.

Introducing my doppelgänger, Ky. What's that you ask? What's a doppelgänger? It is a German word for twin.

Introducing Ky My Doppleganger (I am exhausted in this picture)

For a few months now I have heard that there is a woman in the community that 'some' people think we look alike. (I am not one of those people.) Imagine my surprise when my friend Ky told me she was sick of people calling her Mickie. Incredulous, I inquired about the circumstances. Of the five people that have made the mistake of calling her Mickie two of them I know fairly well. They whole thing is weird but the best part, no the funniest part is her response. It something like this:

Oblivious person: Hey Mickie how are you?
Ky: Excuse me?
Oblivious person: Oh I'm sorry. I thought you were Mickie...
Ky: (All smiles) No, I'm the other black girl.

The oblivious person responds in various ways. It ranges from embarrassment to annoyance. The weird part is the reverse does not happen to me. As in I have yet to have someone think I am her. This  confusion was the spark of our friendship. We were acquaintances before (we were in Tanzania together last year) but, the hilarity of the situation created a simpatico familiarity. It was this new friendship that took us to Eastern Europe for New Years weekend.

We took a shuttle bus of all things to Croatia. The three hour drive went quickly. We had just enough time to drop our bags off at the hotel and make it to one of the outdoor concerts set up around the city. They keyword in the previous sentence is outdoor. I was freezing and no amount of hot wine could change that. We lasted approximately 45 minutes in the below freezing temperatures before heading back to our warm hotel. The next day was filled with sightseeing and preparation for our zero dark thirty train ride to Slovenia in the morning.

Ljublijana, Slovenia has been on my must see list for years, and with good reason. It's beautiful, cosmopolitan and has a dark side. Lots of dragon and witch motifs around the city center. All told it was a great trip. Looking forward to a visit in warmer temperatures.

I am well-rested in this picture

How to Survive Surviving a Fire

Jumping out the window to save my life was just the beginning of the story. In the weeks and months that followed a lot happened. We moved twice, not including the original move from our apartment before settling down in the new place. At one point we were managing three apartments, moving our belongings around as needs arose. All that moving was exhausting and a dear friend asked what I was doing for myself to remain resilient.

Ryan's mother and childhood best friend came to visit, providing much needed support. While we had help with Hunter, I went London to see my cousin. Even in August London is cold! The cooler temperatures were refreshing. I let my cousin dote on me. She cooked all my favorites and we spent most of our time talking. Our conversations went way into evening hours reminding us both of our childhood summers in Guyana.

I returned to Italy renergized and prepared to deal with a steady stream of questions about what happened and where we were living, and keeping Hunter's routine as close to normal as possible. I won't try to pretend it was easy and it was not until my father and stepmother arrived in country that life began to feel normal again.

We had such fun together! They got to know Hunter, we took day trips and spent a lot of time at home eating, our favorite pastime. We were enjoying ourselves so much that my father extended his stay three weeks. We both had the time of our lives. The extra time meant a day trip to Rome, wine tasting at my favorite winery and more after dinner trips to my favorite gelataria for dessert. Saying goodbye is never easy, but these days with Skype and FaceTime it's not so bad. 

Our time in Italy is winding down. We should be back stateside by summer next year. The past five years here have been incredible. Good thing I took the time to make a few notes about it here!

Where There's Smoke...

This photo was taken a week before the fire

Most of you have some idea about the electrical fire that destroyed our apartment in Vicenza last month. The important part is we all survived. All the details are not here, and I some of them are thankfully are already forgotten. I may never know why it happened, but I know this for sure:

Each obstacle we are faced with is another opportunity to use our power to be great

Military life is transient. I make friends here and after a time they move on to their new assignment. Susan is one such friend. Last month she moved to Korea to further her career as an Officer in the United States Army. As is the custom, her colleagues threw her a farewell dinner party. I had never eaten at the the restaurant where the dinner was scheduled so I ate a big meal before heading out. I am loving those Chili's chicken fajita bowls right now. I ate one of those and then several boiled shrimp. Feeling satisfied, I left Hunter with Ryan in the living room and went up stairs to freshen up before dinner. I was powdering my nose when I heard a loud pop and the electricity went out.

I yelled down to Ryan that the electricity went out again. This happened fairly often if there were more than a few appliances on in the apartment. As I approached the stairs leading to the area where Ryan and Hunter were I smelled and saw smoke. I immediately new something big was on fire, but I was not sure where. I screamed for Ryan. I waited a few seconds to hear what was going on before I proceeded down the stairs, but the sound Ryan made let me know something had gone terribly wrong. The staircase quickly filled with smoke. I yelled for Ryan to get Hunter and get out. I could not see my way down and was still unsure of where the fire was. I quickly went over to the window in the upstairs hallway to open it so I could get some light and air to see my way down the stairs, but to my horror thick black smoke rolled me back onto my heels. In shock I gasped taking in a chest full of smoke. I stumbled back to the bathroom with eyes burning and smoke choking my throat. 

I forced open the window and leaned out trying to breath, but there was too much smoke. Without thinking I jumped out of the window onto the adjacent window of a nearby building and waited for the fire department to rescue me. It took the fire department approximately one hour to extinguish the fire and rescue me. They frantically searched the apartment before they found me on a nearby window sill. I was rushed to the hospital, treated for mild scratches and shock, and reunited with Ryan and Hunter there. 

The fire destroyed over 70% of the apartment. The kitchen and parts of the living room are ok, but the rest including the bedrooms and our clothes are mostly gone. The most important items made it out just fine: Hunter, Ryan and me.  

The details of the days and weeks have lost their clarity, but a few things stand out. Our support system rallied around us, providing shelter and emotional support until we could figure out our next steps. We are still figuring out some of those, but we are safe,

together and moving forward!

Michelle was here. Yes that Michelle

First Lady of the United States (FLOTUS) was here in Vicenza a few weeks ago. It took me a couple of weeks to process my feelings about our time together. And by time together I mean the time in which I stared at her slack-jawed basking in her presence. I knew she was coming to Vicenza, but I did not expect to be within earshot of her voice. As the picture can attest, I was standing very close. I chose to stand off to the side as she shared inspirational messages with the young girls around me. She encouraged them to study, set goals and dream big. It was such a special moment for them, and it didn't feel right to interrupt.

After snapping a few pix I began the long walk back to my car with my colleague repeatedly asking if I was ok. I was ok, I was more than ok. I had just spent time with Michelle Obama. I was floating on air. Seeing her in person made me feel like I could do anything and everything I ever wanted to do in my life. The swell of emotions was intense. I never considered myself a FLOTUS 'fan', but seeing her in person, listening to her thoughts about the tragedy in Charleston, her concern for the Soldiers in harms way and their families who pray for they safe return was moving. Yes she is the First Lady, but she is many other things. She is a mother, a Princeton graduate, a lawyer, a wife, a multi-generational American and so much more. Michelle is proof of what is possible in America. Michelle Obama has overcome many challenges and obstacles, but she does not carry  the weight of that with her. She is filled with lightness, love and hope.

It was such a special day for our little American community to have her with us for a few hours. Talk about starting the summer off with bang! Looking forward to what else the Summer of 2016 has in store.

Where Did the Time Go?

As it turns out Hunter is not a baby anymore. He is a pre-toddler. In just under two months he will move to the the next phase of his education: the toddler class. In preparation for this new phase he needs to give up his pacifier and eat more solid foods. Where did the time go? It seems like it was just  yesterday when all he did was drink milk, poop and sleep.

These days he is doing much more than that. This weekend was Ryan's birthday and Hunter spontaneously said happy. All we want for our children is for them to be happy. That his first word was happy was one of Ryan best birthday gifts ever. He said it a few more times throughout the day and each time Ryan and I beamed at each other with joy

I have tried to interest Hunter in solid foods over the past few month without much success. All the food ends up in his lap. His recent check-up revealed that he needs to consume more calories like it or not. You know where this is going. He did not like most of what I tried to feed him, but moms have to be creative and persistent. I sat him down in front of one of his favorite shows and spoon fed him chicken, rice and vegetables. He protested at first, but every time he opened his mouth to cry I put a spoonful in and he ate it. He went back to crying as soon as he was done chewing and swallowing. We went on this way until all of the chicken, rice and vegetables were gone. The next day I tried homemade mashed potatoes. Things went the same as the day before. He cried, I put food in his open mouth, he swallowed and cried some more. On the third day I tried elbow pasta with tiny meatballs. I turned my attention away for a few seconds and Hunter had discarded the spoon and was feeding himself with his hands! In shock I just stared, and struggled not to make a big deal of it. I stared at him for minutes as he enjoyed his movie and his meatballs.

Preparing food for Hunter satisfies a deep maternal need to nourish him. Breastfeeding did not go so well for us, and cooking for him feels sort of like a do over. I am excited to cook my favorites for him because so far my instincts have been spot on about what he likes. I cannot wait for him to try my macaroni and cheese!

Nine Days Without Him

I spent nine whole days working in Arusha, Tanzania away from Hunter. Although I was very busy with work pulling 10+ hour days, I missed my little guy immensely. He missed me too. According to Ryan the first few days were OK, but by day three HP wanted to know where I was. He does not talk very much yet, but he expressed his displeasure in a myriad of ways. As Ryan described it, he was generally upset and inconsolable. I have never been gone for more than a few days,  and I worried about the effects my absence would have. I frequently reminded myself that at 16 months he would not remember any of this.  I also found solace in knowing Ryan and Hunter were spending quality time together. father-son time together.

Now what the heck was I doing in Africa? My office held a conference in Tanzania focused on better integrating women into militaries in African armies. A thrilling topic with my utmost interest. The first event was held last year, but I was still a new breastfeeding mom, and not thrilled with idea of leaving my infant son just yet. This time around I jumped at the opportunity. Tanzania is one of several stable countries in Africa. That did not mean there were no risks to traveling there. I had to get a series of immunizations and blood work done before my departure, take anti-malarial medication before, during and after my trip and never, never drink the tap water while in country. My first night in Tanzania I made a typical rookie mistake and brushed my teeth with tap water at the hotel. Luckily I did not experience any consequences as a result.

Still trying to reconcile my subtle expectations with the reality of my experience. Yes,  I did expect some version of a "welcome home sister"celebration. No such luck! No one cared. My skin color was irrelevant. In fact I was mistaken for a local at the airport upon my arrival. I halfway expected  a version of an African awakening; some sort of motherland recognition, but Tanzania was familiar yet distant. I did not experience the mythical bond with mother Africa. Brooklyn will always be home.

The first female Commander of the Ghana Navy

I met a number of extraordinary women serving their countries in leadership roles, and experienced the juxtaposition of a rural way of life transitioning to an urban landscape known as the developing world.  

I had a few projects printed at a local Tanzanian printer. My visit there illustrates what a developing economy looks like. After several minutes on one of the city's many asphalt roads, the car made a left on to a dirt road; an absolutely unpaved, rocky road. A road so difficult to maneuver, that pedestrians walked faster than the car. Many of them women with large, heavy looking packages on their heads. Some of the passerbys were local Masai warriors in their traditional plaid finery and tire-soled shoes.

After a few yards/meters on that road the vehicle made another left and stopped in front a building surround by a sif-foot high zinc fence. The driver helped me out of the van as I navigated the rocky path to the front door in my six inch heels. Inside was a throughly modern facility replete with A/C,  whirring machines and office workers going about their business. As I waited for my materials my colleague asked for the wifi password to check in while we waited. Within minutes we were communicating with our colleagues at the hotel as well as back at our home office.

Fashion: A Form of Self Expression

I take fashion seriously because it is my favorite way to express myself. For the last few years my look has been comprised of bright colors in unexpected pairings. The infamous Aquaman outfit comes to mind easily.

Old me in inadvertent AquaMan outfit

Whimsy played a large role in my aesthetic. Then I had a baby and nothing fit for awhile. Add to that the uncertainty of will my favorite dress EVER fitting again and I was adrift in the warm waters of Italian fashion.

Something about having Hunter in my life makes me want to have less whimsy in my wardrobe. It was just a feeling at first and then my recent exposure to the fashion icon known as the "Parisian Woman" cemented it. The women were all so elegantly styled: statement sunglasses, a flourish of a scarf, and the perfect red lip. This simple uniform interpreted in various ways throughout Paris woke me up a bit.

I came back thinking more carefully about my silhouette and color palette. Taking second looks at basics such black and white. Rejecting A-line skirts and dresses for sophisticated Body Cons. The change has been subtle..sort of. I work in an office with mostly males. They notice when a woman wears a curve hugging dress. Not the kind of attention I covet. All the same I want to look less like the quirky girl at the office and more like the sophisticate who gets things done. I thought I found just the thing to spark the change. I love these shoes! They are comfortable and stylish, but my boss refers to them as granny shoes and others often ask if I couldn't afford the laces...

x

I added cropped pants to my office rotation, and several folks asked if I have trouble finding pants in my size. I came home with a dress that was clearly out of my comfort zone.

Me: What do you think?
Ryan: It looks like you are wearing your underwear outside of your clothes...
Me: Are you kidding?
Ryan: Sort of but, not really..I hope you don't wear that to work.

He is not the jealous type, but I noticed he furrowed his brow with consternation when said it might work if I wore a blazer over it. The thing is this is not about Ryan or the guys at the office or my boss. It is about self expression and projecting the confidence I feel inside. The journey continues.

Getting there

There Was and Always Is Light at the End of the Tunnel

Delicious

Hunter celebrated his first birthday last month. I had big plans for his special day, but when I showed up at daycare with cupcakes for him and his friends I was met less with enthusiasm and more annoyance.

I have learned since that Hunter has a routine in place at school and me showing up with cupcakes in the middle of his lunch (that day they were having quinoa, chicken and broccoli) is confusing. It made him downright mad. He refused to eat, demanded a bottle and eventually went to sleep. I think he thought I came to pick him up to go home, and when that did not happen he demonstrated his disappointment. I ended up leaving the cupcakes for his teachers. I went back to work downtrodden. Where had I gone wrong?

But there was and always is light at the end of the tunnel. When I showed up at my regular time to pick him up he was in fantastic sprits. He was was happy to see me and his teachers said they served the cupcakes later that afternoon. One of them made him a paper hat with the number one on it. He and his friends smashed and ate cupcakes together. From the looks of it, he had a wonderful time.

For Valentine's Day his teachers asked me to come in early to help him decorate cookies. I was excited about the opportunity to share a new experience with Hunter at daycare. Below is what I found when I got there. He was covered in frosting. He did not decorate cookies. He decorated his face! As soon as he saw me he was ready to go. We cleaned up and left.

As a new mom I want everything to be perfect, but perfect for me will not always be perfect for Hunter. I am the mom, but clearly this kid is running the show. I have always had a hard time letting go. Hunter is already showing me that he is in the driver's seat. I am just here for the ride. The sooner I get used to that idea the better for me.

Hang on mommy!

Life with Hunter a Year Later

I had a baby last year! Now I have a one year old son. Still have trouble wrapping my head around that fact even when Hunter wakes me up at 0500hrs. I love being a mom and having a career. There are times when it's a struggle to find time in my life for all things I want and need. I have always expected a big life for myself, and the bigger this life gets the harder it is to manage. As always I made a number of resolutions at the beginning of the year. As always I want to read more books and travel to new and favorite places. New to the list was to be more physically active. Hunter gets the blame for me being lazy. It is so nice to say I can't work out because I have to be with him. After a few visits to his day care center and him ignoring me, I realized it is time for me to get back to doing fun things for myself.

Deciding to start cross-country skiing can be intimidating, but calling my friend who is always up to something is super easy. I called Susan and said count me in for whatever you are doing in the next few weeks. Before I could think more about it we were speed walking for 90 minutes twice a week in preparation for our cross-country ski trip on the Austro-Italian border. It has been the longest time since I went on a road trip with the girls. I warned them about my car narcolepsy (I fall asleep quickly in a moving car), and woke up when we got there.

What's that? What about Hunter you say? I left Hunter with his father who has been globetrotting for work most of 2014. I love both of those guys but, I needed a few days of rest and recuperation without either of them. I called a few times to check on them, but the truth is there is not a whole lot of time to talk when you are on solo duty with an infant. Ryan gave me a few updates, but we were both focused on what was in front of us.

I came back from my trip reenergized and ready for Hunter's one year birthday party at school. I ordered cupcakes for him and his friends to celebrate after lunch, but you know that saying about the best laid plans? Well that happened. Hunter was not interested in me or the cupcakes. Perhaps it was the quinoa at lunch that upset him. Whatever it was,he was feeling much better today when we took him over to spend the day with his godmother. Happy one year birthday Hunter!

Mickie McNamara: The Medalist!

Friday was awesome! I was awarded the Achievement Medal from the Department of the Army. When I arrived here four years ago I saw many of my colleagues had medals and plaques on their "I love me" walls. Often when visitors came to my office they said they expected to see framed degrees and medals on my wall. I am not the type to frame and hang degrees. In fact the only framed item I have hanging in a place of prominence is Hunter's first artwork from daycare. He painted the sun with his little fingers.

Hunter's first artwork (Excuse my polka dots in the refection!)

Secretly I longed for a medal of my own. After a few months I was given a certificate of appreciation. I came home pleased with myself. Ryan looked at me and then at the certificate. He said what you want is a certificate of achievement. That's something you can put on your resume. Ryan ends many of his sentences with: "Put that on your resume". I kept those words in mind. Taking on developmental assignments that would get me ready for that achievement certificate.

Earlier this year President Obama announced the Army was going into Liberia to assist with the Ebola crisis. The rest as they say is history. I ended up with the Achievement Medal for my efforts. It did not come with a certificate. I get that later, but my medal sure is pretty.

Now That's What I Call a Perk

My new boss is awesome. Ok she's not that new. She has been here for about six months now, but I think it takes about that look to get an authentic feel for someone's management style, and most importantly their vision. All that comes into clearer focus everyday. What makes working for her exciting is that I learn something new from her almost every single day.

A few weeks ago she shared a few copies of Outside magazine with me. Well share is probably not the most accurate way to describe what happened. I saw a magazine on her desk. It had titles of articles such as "The New Dream Jobs: Get Paid to Do What You Love" and "The Science of Fear: How to Thrive When Things Get Scary." If you know me then you know I was immediately interested in Outside magazine. She handed over a few copies that I stuffed somewhere in my cubicle because Liberia happened and was swamped.

She just got back from a trip toTanzania on Monday. It was a brief trip but, she was very interested in the places she saw and the people she met. She mentioned her new found interest in climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. I have tons of goals and dreams, but climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro was not with one of them. It made think about the magazines stuffed in my cubicle. I opened and turned to a page that listed one of the perks at Fullcontact based in Denver is a $7, 500-per-year stipend to fund a vacation during which you must refrain from sending e-mail, making phone calls, and doing any work at all.

I pride myself on knowing my friends pretty well, and as far as I know none of you work at Fullcontact. Otherwise you would have told me about this amazing perk at your new job. Suffice it to say my new boss has already inspired me to new and exciting goals. Now that's a great boss!

The New Agent Orange

I have made lots of new and different types of friends since my arrival in Vicenza four years ago. The majority of them have the military in common. Many of them have stories to tell about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan but don't, at least not to me. There are the one liners that remind me of the heavy toll a very small portion of the American population has endured over that last thirteen years. It is a fairly common experience during lunch to hear colleagues say things such as, "You know how it is spending hours in bunker after a mortar attack." Obviously not talking to me, but to each other.

Last week at a networking event, an Officer who was briefly my boss before I went on maternity leave, and I were chatting at a networking event. He is a tall, slender guy with features reminiscent of the comedian Jim Carey. We worked together for a very brief time, but in those few weeks we built an easy rapport. I was eyeing the attractive mini pizzas at the buffet while he subtlety averted his eyes. I gestured to the pimento olives, "The olives are terrific. You can have as many of those as you would like." He said yes, but looked less than excited at the prospect. I reminded him that I had suffered through my third trimester with gestational diabetes, and had some understanding of what he was going through as a diabetic. I asked if he was diagnosed with diabetes early in life, and whether or not it was hereditary. He answered no to both. Then added that he was diagnosed after his tours in  Iraq. "Perhaps it was the stress of combat," I said empathetically. That is when he said it: "Probably has something to do with being blown up up a few times." He continued, "or the food, or the burning oil fields, not sure. Diabetes is becoming very common among veterans of Iraq. It's the new agent orange. " He went on speaking, but I was so unnerved by the thought of him being blown up few times that I have no idea what else he said. I was standing there with someone who had been blown up and lived to tell about it. I'm still processing the reality of that.

He was talking about the cauliflower pizza he made that was not too bad. He used cauliflower as a substitute for flour which is mostly a no go for diabetics. By then I was thinking of ways to stop myself from asking the forbidden questions: How many times were you blown up? And when? And how? And where and are you ok? None of those questions are "allowed" because..well because it is impolite or unknowable or too heavy for a networking event with mini pizzas. I'm not quite sure I even want to know.

The presentation part of the event began with him as the emcee. I had a hard time looking at him because he has paid a high price to serve his country, and lives a reality far removed from mine. That knowledge widens the distance between us, and is a stark reminder of what it means to soldier on.

The Lean in Project

Midway through my pregnancy last year I listened to Sheryl Sandberg's book "Lean In. " It was both inspiring and motivational. In the book Sheryl suggests that given the opportunity women should always sit at the table and lean into the  discussion. Before my pregnancy I had no problem adhering to her advice, but as my pregnancy progressed I was not so quick to head to the table. I was trying to make room in my life for the baby and thought work needed to take a backseat in order to make that happen. The problem was I love my job and I have a solid reputation at work so, even when I didn't grab my seat at the table, my peers and mentors beckoned me to join.

There was a pivotal moment when a when a colleague spoke to me about an upcoming opportunity. There was a job opening up in another division and he told me I should consider applying. We were in my office, and I was guzzling ice water from a thermos. I constantly craved ice water when I was pregnant. As I considered the prospect of a new job,  I wondered how realistic it was for me to make a career move when my baby was due in a few weeks.

Then I thought of Sheryl Sanberg's advice and leaned in. I was not sure I would get the job, or even more daunting, start a new job with a brand new baby, but I knew I would try. I continued to sit at the table and raise my hand during meetings. I stayed actively engaged in my career throughout my pregnancy. When the baby came I took two and half months off work. While I on maternity leave, most of it unpaid, I received a job offer for what can best be described as an incredible stepping stone. It's not my dream job. I want to be careful not to characterize it as that, but it is an important resume builder for the dream job that I know is just around the corner.

With a new job on the horizon I focused on breast feeding which just did not go as well as I hoped. When I got tired of crying over both spilled and unspilled milk. I bought t the best powdered milk I ccould find.

Soon after starting the new job, an opportunity to go to Namibia arose. Namibia is one the places in Africa I am most curious about. I did not lean in on that one.  The baby was still too young to have a mother off in Southern Africa trying to save the world. Other opportunities will present themselves, and if it's right for my family, I'll be there.