On being pregnant and not writing …

February was interesting. My super-surprising and somewhat shocking (yes, I admit it) pregnancy was confirmed, which immediately led to a ton of appointments to make sure the little fellow was okay and thriving. Being of mature age (pft) has it advantages, because most expecting mothers don’t get to see their unborn babies all that often. The last of the many ultrasounds even told us with small certainty what to expect come August (I can’t share; the husband asked to be surprise, so I have to make sure no one who might tell him knows anything).

We’re still looking for names. Ivy is in the running. As is Harlan. I love Logan, especially for a girl, but my kids hate it.

I also found out that my friends Rafi and Laurie are expecting. Congratulations, ladies.

I avoided a miscarriage, which my doctor warned was a real threat after having the IUD removed. I credit many hours on the couch with this small miracle. Mostly, I avoided moving as much as possible :-D I think I must have caught up with all the seasons of Dog Whisperer on NatGeo.

I got almost no writing done. I feel immensely guilty about this, but in all honesty, I had more important worries. Still, writing is foremost on my mind these days. I’m sick of the slow or non-existing progress, and I’m sick of feeling like I’m letting people down (Ken and Kristen to mind right away). Unfortunately, merely feeling bad about the situation doesn’t exactly do much to remedy the problem. I’m going to have to make a serious commitment, show up in front of the computer and just get the work done. The deadline is non-negotiable for this one :-)

The Olympics were inspiring. I loved seeing Shaun White on TV. He’s one of my favorite redheads ever. He’s also 23, which incidentally makes him the perfect living representation of my favorite fictional character. I may have pointed that out a few times while watching TV with my kids, because they groaned and complained about it eventually. “We know, Mom,” they’d say. Pft.

You see, my fictional characters are definitely on my mind. The tsunami alert did its thing, too. (Guam didn’t report casualties or damages, which was great.)

March will be good. Nolan turns 7, which according to him is the legal age to start chores. I’ll turn 40. Spring Break will liven things up, too, and if all goes well will find us on the road to Oklahoma to visit some friends. Road trip, yay. I already have to go to the bathroom and we haven’t even left yet :-)

Thinking happy thoughts doesn’t cut it …

Walter Koenig: “My son was depressed.”
Reporter: “About what?”

That question has irked me all week. Andrew Koenig suffered from clinical depression, which is an imbalance of brain chemicals. He didn’t have to have a reason to be depressed. There didn’t have to be something specific in his life that made him depressed. He simply was.

I have struggled with depression during some of the best, happiest and most successful parts of my life. I know I was in a good place, but I couldn’t help feeling depressed. It’s not something you have control over and it doesn’t have to make sense. It’s not something you can wish away or snap out of by looking at the beautiful things in your life or practicing a good attitude. It’s your brain being hijacked.

Why I find the Olympics inspiring …

I’m not a sport nut. I love English horseback riding and show jumping, I just haven’t done it in years. The Winter Olympics are most definitely not up my alley – nothing Winter-related is :-) But I find myself inspired.

I’m a struggling writer right now, in a deep, dark hole with nary a plot bunny for comfort. Keeping me frustrated is my perfectionist nature and the idea that everything I produce has to be flawless. Behind that idea lurks the notion that the only achievement worth pursuing is first place.

Then I watch the Olympics and see a large number of athletes who won’t even come within spitting distance of the metal podium. They’re there to post a personal best, to give it their all and shine, because they are good at what they do and they deserve the chance to show the world how good they are. Still, realistically speaking, they don’t stand a chance to win a medal.

It’s okay to know you’re not going to win. But winning isn’t everything; showing up, giving your best and having the time of your life is. And that’s why I’m inspired.

The dedication and perseverance, the sweat and tears and deep, deep credit card debts that a lot of these athletes bring with them should maybe inspire more of us to do well in the world even when there’s no prize to be won.

So, yeah, I’m inspired.

PS. Catching my favorite redhead, Shaun White, on TV is great, too.