Mondays

At a previous place of employment, we all tended to communicate via Microsoft Office Communicator.  We would flash quick project questions, plan lunch, or just complain about the day with the person across the hall.  I had one coworker that had a negative opinion about inviting another coworker to lunch, and as he went to share this opinion with another like-minded coworker, he accidentally sent it to the coworker in question.  He acted quickly, got up, went to her computer and powered it down.  We all got a good laugh out of this story and noted it as a lesson learned.

I have been a little stressed at work lately.  There are a lot of projects kicking off and my impending maternity leave is just around the corner.  It is hard to pass off projects that I love and scary to wonder what I will walk back into after 12 weeks off.  I have this one coworker that just spikes my blood pressure with a simple email.  He is that typical coworker that takes way more credit than he should, he knows how to do things one way, his way and does not have the technical chops to back up anything he proposes.  He can talk the talk but not walk the walk.  I tend to play the roll of team player, and he is the exact opposite.  He is the soul reason I dread Mondays.

Most recently, I was taking the initiative to help with our staffing projections and workload issues.  He took this as an opportunity to make this process his own, even though he hasn’t shown interest in the almost 2 years I have been here.  He invited people to the meeting that had no business being there… I forwarded that email to a coworker, simply saying, “He is killing me.”  Not understanding the complete functions of Office, I thought I had sent that to the entire group invited to the meeting.  My heart sunk.  What if he read it?  How could I let my frustrations get the best of me?  And what now…

Well he didn’t see it.  He is still driving me crazy.  However, it was a good lesson learned.

Disappointment

I have lived through enough life experiences, participated in many counseling sessions, and set plenty boundaries to know when it is time to just walk away.  Not everyone is born into a perfect situation with two loving parents, and those of us who are not, learn, survive by finding those relationships in other people.  From an early age, I knew my mom was not there for me like other moms I observed.  She tried to be involved when I was younger, but once I was a teenager things changed.  She rarely made it a priority to attend functions that were important to me, comfort me when life got hard, or made time to play and let me be a kid.  I accepted it.  I never tried to change the way it was, but just reached out to those that did show up, that were there to listen, and would just let me be me.  There are days still where I wish I was not as smart or have such a solid memory, so maybe I could believe her stories and we could mirror some sort of a relationship.  Instead, I learned how to lower my expectations and live without including my mom.

Do I wish it was different?  Yes.  Do I hope for the day where we reach common ground?  Yes.  Will that ever happen?  Not if the past 33 years is a prediction of the future.  There is the perception of what a child’s relationship should be with their mother, due to that, I still try.  I have forgiven her for the past and hope for a better future.  However, some things never change and some relationships are just toxic.  Sadly, we have no control on which relationships in our lives will turn out to be toxic.  Sometimes, it is your family.

With the baby on the way, my mom has voiced her desire to have a relationship with her grandchild.  Sure, I want her to have that.  But I don’t know what it looks like.  I know the kind of mother she has been and if that is an indication, I would rather spare my child the disappointment.  The disappointment that there may be this relationship when things are good, but if anything goes unplanned you are on your own.  Family or friend, how do we grow if the people we love are only available when it is easy or convenient for them?

Another Fishing Story

Patrick and I debate when our first date actually occurred.  We can leave that up for debate, but I know exactly when I realized we were not “just friends.”  That day we went fly fishing for the first time.  I documented it on my old blog.  Fishing is something I grew up doing and something Patrick loves.  In lieu of a fancy babymoon, we decided to head to the hills to celebrate our one year anniversary.  This would include hiking, fine dining, and fishing.

As my body continues to grow and change, I learn daily what my new limits are physically and it does not always run parallel with what I mentally want to do.  I made this disclaimer before we went fishing and asked that we stick to the calmer waters.  Patrick agreed and we went to a familiar place along the Crystal River near Marble, CO.  The air was cool and crisp like our first fishing adventure, this time I had my own waders but Patrick still had to help put my boots on.  It was really clear this would be the last time my waders would fit until after Baby Lynch arrives.  Patrick escorted me to the river where he so casually stated, “We have to get to the other side where the fish are.”  I questioned him.  He grabbed my waders and said, “Have a ever let you fall?”  And with that we were off to brighter fishing waters.

However, this time I didn’t make it.  Half way across, that place in the river where the velocity picks up, I was physically unable to lift my legs that were submerged in the water past my knees.  I stood there in the middle of the river, frustrated that I was physically limited and panicked because I did not know what to do.  Patrick stood there, holding me in place, equally confused.  In a moment, I lost my footing and fell.  Patrick still had a firm grip on me, lifted me back up and got me to the other side of the river with only one arm wet.

Neither one of us could say the right thing.  I should have been able to cross, Patrick didn’t want me to fall, but we realized our lives are changing in the smallest ways.  Once I calmed down, we agreed that we might as well fish since we made it to the other side of the river.  We made it.  Maybe just not as gracefully as the first time.  However, unlike the first time, I caught a fish.

We finished up the weekend watching the Broncos win, visiting our wedding spot, and hiking to Hanging Lake.  Life is changing.  But it is comforting to know that Patrick will always be there, even when I fall.

Sharing

This last week I was busy being Corporate Morgan.  I was attending a conference in Vail, Colorado that was well attended by most of our client base.  My time leading up to the conference was spent planning a client dinner for 30 people, preparing a presentation on my flood recovery work this past year, and hitting other project deadlines.  Unfortunately, the timing of this conference was not conducive to relaxing.

Needless to say, the dinner was a hit and the presentation was well received.  I manged to reel in a few client compliments and concerns about my anticipated maternity leave.  Who says women can’t do it all?

I am not worried.  I am slowly gaining traction at work and maternity leave will be a flash in the bucket.  I woke up Friday morning and finally had time to stop.  I enjoyed a cup of hot coco on my hotel balcony and took in the obvious signs of fall all around me.  There is something simply magical about mountain mornings.  The cool air, the stillness, the deafening quiet that surrounds you.  I can not wait to share this passion for the mountains, outdoors with Baby Lynch.  That morning on the balcony my mind instantly flashed forward to the inevitable family camping trips, fishing, hiking, and swimming in the hot springs.  I was so fortunate to have grown up in such a beautiful place that I am inspired to protect it for future generations, for Patrick and I’s future generations.

Gender Neutral

Our 20 week appointment came and went, I am officially half way through my pregnancy.  The 20 week appointment is the big baby check in, the one where you can find out if you are having a boy or a girl.  For years, even before I met my husband, I was convinced if I ever got pregnant I would want it to be a surprise.  Like most things in life, it is easy to speculate what you would do when you are not in the situation.  As the appointment approached I started to flip flop.

We told the ultrasound technician that we wanted to keep the gender a surprise.  After she confirmed that the baby was healthy and growing normally, I started to wonder.  I started to look for obvious boy parts.  Not that I would know them if I saw them… but I looked.  I knew I wasn’t 100 percent with the surprise idea, so I asked the technician to find out the gender and put it into an envelope that Patrick and I would sign and seal, in case we wanted to find out later.  Very official, I know, no cheating.  She asked if we wanted a picture of the genitals for the envelope, I said sure… and we had to close our eyes while she examined that part of the baby.  IT WAS SO HARD NOT TO OPEN MY EYES.  And to make matters worse, I had this envelope in my house tormenting me, talk about The Tell Tale Heart.  Patrick just laughed, he was all in on the surprise.

I am a tomboy at heart.  I love to play sports, fish, and watch football.  I am an engineer and while that should not make me a tomboy, I loved math and was quickly surrounded by all men at school and work.  I have always related to men and struggled dearly with women.  I find most women to be mean, condescending of other women, and overly sensitive.  My inability to connect with women, has always led to me to want a little boy of my own.

Knowing this about myself, was the sole reason I wanted to find out the gender of Baby Lynch.  I decided it wasn’t good enough.  I am a woman and I love it.  I have wonderful girlfriends and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.  Sure, women have to constantly be alert and try harder than men, but that just makes them stronger when they succeed.  I think subconsciously every mom-to-be has a preference on their baby’s gender.  However, I can’t imagine that the day Patrick and I welcome our little one into the world I will be any less joyous when they tell me I have a little girl.  I just want a healthy, happy little person that will be a part of our family.  It sounds cliche but it is true.  Whatever fears I am holding onto from my past that make a little girl less desirable, it is time to let that go.

I Would Do It Again

It is almost one year later; one year since I married my best friend, my love, the father of our future child.  It has been an amazing year.  We have spent time with friends from all over the country, traveled to new places and grown together in love.  We become more deeply rooted in each others lives, something was completely unexpected.  I continue to learn more and more about him everyday.

I can remember when I started looking at Patrick differently.  Something in me wanted to have the best of him and the best of me be a part of our lives.  We agreed to have the “kid” conversation after our one-year anniversary, but something in my soul was getting restless.  I have never been 100 percent sold on the idea of having children and it was a decision I could not make unless I knew he was all in.  Then that morning came, Patrick was rolling around like a kid on Saturday morning, I was slow to wake up, I was half asleep when he turned to me and said, “I want to have kids with you.”  I was all in.  Literally, I think it happened the next day.  Or VERY shortly thereafter.  I could not be more in love with the person he is, the husband he is to me and the father he will be.

We are heading up to Aspen, Colorado, tomorrow where we said “I do” a year ago.  I am excited to go escape to the mountains and spend time in a place that will always be special to us.  If I could I would marry Patrick every day for the rest of our lives.

Open

I am one to compartmentalize my life. I always have. Work is work, family is family, friends are friends. Those days when the three areas intersect I am usually a ball of stress. I assume this is the long term effects of having an unstable home growing up and then, a decade later, a disastrous relationship with a co-worker. Those two events have led to me believe it is just easier to deal with each life compartment one at a time.

Life is not always within your control. Life has taught me to roll with things. My pregnancy weight was very slow to come on and for months I did not have to talk about the pregnancy outside of friends and family. Then it happened, belly popped. Suddenly all the wonders at work are turning to questions. This pregnancy is one of the most exciting, nerve-racking things that has ever happened to me… and one I will share with the world. That in itself is a whole new experience.

Radio Silence

I love to write.  Lately, the words have just not come to me, so I wait.  Wait for a way to articulate what I feel about my life, the world around me, daily interactions.  The longer I wait, the less I have to say.  This Friday will be 13 weeks since my husband I found out I was pregnant.  It was 4:30 in the morning, on the way to Washington, D.C. for a little vacation.  My body had felt different that week and before I took off to enjoy an ice cold beer in a new city, I had to know that I was indeed not pregnant.  I was pregnant.  The next two months, all I could do was wait for that moment where the first trimester was over and I could scream to the world, “I am going to be a mom.”  That time came and I still struggled to find the right words.

No one knew we were trying, it barely registered with me that we were trying to have a baby.  I had never pictured myself pregnant or raising children, yet here I was loving something that was making me incredibly sick and tired every day.  The feelings that would ensue reached from excited to scared to guilt to anxiety.  I try to deal with all these feelings as they come, all the while hoping that I will be a good mom.  That the baby will be healthy and normal.  That Patrick and I’s relationship will still be a priority to the both of us.  That I won’t mess this kid up the way my mom messed me up.

I can not elegantly state my frame of mind.  I hope to see that flip in the next couple of weeks as the worrying subsides and the joy ensues.  I am incredibly excited for this adventure that lies in front of Patrick and I.  It wouldn’t be an adventure if I knew how it was going to end.

Just Because You Can

“We did not inherit this earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children” –

Just because you can do something, does that mean you should? The environmentalist in me grows more and more each day. I find myself frustrated with people’s inability to make small self-sacrifices for the greater good of future generations. I get it, you don’t want to take shorter showers or wash a reusable container.

We recently visited Crested Butte, Colorado for the holiday weekend. I loved it. Loved seeing the fireworks with the mountain backdrop, fishing in the Upper Taylor River, and remembering why I love Colorado so much. I was a little shocked to find that there were tons of foreign tourists vacationing in Crested Butte. I had read news articles talking about the increased travel of the Chinese, but to see it in a place that is not New York or LA seemed like a new concept.

On the flip side of that, it seems my friend’s bucketlists are expanding to include the more exotic, more remote places. Some go for spiritual reasons, I can respect that, but others go just to go. Some want to visit all seven continents, or visit a place with the most diverse animal life on the planet even though they don’t really like animals. Why? To say they did it?

What is the cost to our future when we continue to do things just because we can? Our population is growing at an unsustainable rate, the world is a quick flight away, and no one is stopping to think of the long term impact. I was happy to see John Oliver kind of thought about and even offered a solution.

Not Going There Again

There are quite a few changes going on at work.  My self-identified mentor is transferring to Orlando for his family.  In the corporate world people like to develop buzz words like champion, nugget, or hedgehog concept.  This guy was my advocate and I quickly aligned my career with this guy.  Since the announcement of his departure, the competitive claws have begun coming out in my fellow coworkers.  When I asked my mentor what he had in mind as far as a succession plan, he named me as someone to step up and fill a few of his roles.  I was honored.  I have been there.  I think I can do it again.  But I don’t want to.

In the days that followed, I realized I am still a new kid on the street and I don’t quite have the backing of key personal in this flat business structure.  I don’t like the Morgan that comes out when someone tries to throw me under the bus or take credit for things I have completed.  I don’t like that person, I have been her, and I don’t want to be her again.  I told my mentor to please take my name out of the running but that I was more than willing to support anyone in the transition.  Based on his reaction, I believe he thought I was just having a “girl moment” and will come around.  I don’t think I am.

Lean in, right?  What if I don’t want to?  What if I want to be home for dinner?  Have the time and energy to meet up with my friends?  What if I want a life outside of my career?  I want my legacy to extend beyond how much money I made or title I may have earned?  It was a hard conclusion to come to.  I have worked so hard all my life to get somewhere.  I think I may already be there.