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

The Moment I Feared

I have probably mentioned Ryan's busy travel schedule recently but, it begs to be mentioned again. This guy (Ryan) has done an extraordinary amount of traveling this year in past twelve months. We have managed to always have childcare help when he is away. My aunt was here for three months, then his mom was here. When she left we had a nanny come to help us until we found a spot at daycare. While daycare helps, it typically takes two of us to handle Hunter,  food shopping, cooking and the bedtime routine. When he is gone, which is often, we have Marina help out when she can. 

Truth be told it can get lonely here, and the pressure of temporary single parenthood in a foreign country can be intense. Marina helps out in a myriad of ways. I always give her plenty of advanced notice regarding Ryan's travel so she can prioritize being here. There have been more that a few nights that I have wondered what I would do if for some reason she could not be here to help me. The mere thought made my blood run cold. When Ryan is away the three of us have a manageable routine.

Things work until they don't. While Ryan was away, I was tasked with attending a conference in the DC area. Marina could not watch Hunter overnight, but a dear friend could. I went to the conference held at the Women's War Memorial in Arlington, and Face-timed with Hunter when I could. I was thrilled to be engaged with him, but he was quickly frustrated when he could not touch and smell me through the phone. He kept turning the phone over to find me. I missed my boy terribly those three days. 

Just to keep things interesting, Hunter got a stomach bug while I was gone, and Marina came down with the flu when I got back. It was the moment I feared. No Ryan, no Marina, a sick baby and playing catch up at the office. The only way to handle a situation with so many variables coming at me was to address them one at a time. The very best part of this was that I managed it all. I made lists, I did not rush and stayed focused. Hunter obviously missed his Dad. Ryan was gone longer than usual and his location had a poor internet connection. We had very little contact. Hunter grew tired of looking at stale Ryan pictures at the end of the first week. Hunter and I did the best we could and my best was good enough. 

To celebrate Ryan's return we headed to Paris to meet up with my former boss, Dan, his wife Alison and their son Thomas. It was Hunter's first time out of the country. Although it was freezing in Paris we had a delightful few days sightseeing and spending time with old friends. Definitely Hunter's first trip, but certainly not his last.

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.