YOUR GUIDE TO THE TWIN CITIES
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Christie Koester
Christie Koester is a Marketing and Communi- cations Manager and a Graphic/Web Designer in Eagan, Minn. She is also a freelance designer and writer and has written several articles for the Shakopee Valley News and KSTP as a community reporter. Koester is writing her first novel. | Follow Christie on Twitter at @christiekoester or check out her personal blog.
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How could I possibly love more? That was one of my first thoughts when I found out I was pregnant this past summer. I heard about the unconditional love parents have for their children (and I’ve seen it through my parents’ eyes) but I was never able to get a clear answer to what that love actually feels like, let alone wrap my mind around it.
Our 'thumbs-up' baby - ultrasound tech even had to type it on the picture
Sort of like when I was a single gal asking every married couple, “How did you really know your better half was The One? You had to know somehow, right?”
I never received more than, “You just know.”
Kind of a lame answer if you ask me. But when Mr. Right walked into my life, I understood what that meant. You really do just know.
For the past 30 weeks I’ve been journaling on my personal blog about all the emotions and feelings going through my mind. Will I be a good enough parent? Am I supposed to feel this crappy? How the heck will I know what to do? What was I thinking? What’s a Boppy? For real - there are classes out there on car seat safety? Wait…what…how many diapers will I be changing? Omigod, how will I survive on only two hours of sleep and still be a nice person? How much more weight am I going to gain!?
Maybe I should’ve thought about the answers to all these questions beforehand in more depth, but the thing is I don’t always think that way – where’s the fun in that? Instead I gave myself plenty of time to get to know me and explore the world and fall in love...and dream. My husband and I wanted to enjoy being married, just the two of us and then we’d start to think about becoming parents. As we inched closer to our mid-thirties, we knew what our next step was and agreed kids were something we both wanted to experience, but were still deathly scared of the change parenthood would bring.
Right now we have the freedom to come and go. Travel. Go on dates whenever we want. Sleep in or stay up. Put in more hours at work. Watch all our favorite television shows. In short, we get to be selfish, which is pretty awesome in my eyes and I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. Thirty two years of my life I’ve had the luxury of putting myself first and have had no regrets.
Don’t get me wrong, I have my moments where I’m excited beyond words to meet our little miracle. I’m already planning fun hiking adventures and picnics and trips to the Science Museum and afternoons of teaching my child to play catch and pass a volleyball. My husband thinks I’m nuts.
But with anything new and unfamiliar there is always doubt, second guessing and the “what ifs” lingering.
This is when I decided to go searching for advice, which I quickly learned is dangerous grounds for first-time parents. Beware. There are those who love to step in and scare the wits out of you—the ones who have been in the parenthood club for some time and can’t wait for you to get a taste of where they’ve been; projectile puke, explosive diarrhea and all. I’ve heard everything from your life is over to your hips are physically going to morph into a new body your skinny jeans won’t even recognize to you might as well say goodbye to yourself now because you won’t be in touch with her for the next 18 years. Not to mention, your marriage and your relationship is about to change big time. Buh-bye romance.
So for the last few weeks during my fifth or sixth trip to the bathroom in the midnight hours I’ve found myself worrying, tossing and turning, wondering how I’m going to be able to survive the next 18 years of my life if so many people have so many negative things to say about parenthood. How will I be able to do it and not lose myself or my sanity along the way? Will I really love this new person as much or even more than my husband…even more than me??? Will I want to make all these sacrifices? How is that even possible?
I can see why the baby takes nine months to develop; maybe it’s more the mother who needs the time to mentally prepare. I know I sure do.
That was until I saw our 3-D ultrasound. My in-laws are pretty awesome and surprised us on Christmas with a gift card to get an up-close and personal ultrasound at 29 weeks. I enjoyed the regular ultrasound at nine weeks and then again at 20 weeks and figured the 3D one would be pretty similar. But something was different, something happened to me this time around. I felt a powerful emotion come alive inside me. But only for a few seconds.
As I was lying on the table and our baby’s face (all round and chubby) stared back at us—and promptly threw us a thumbs up—I tossed my head back and laughed. That was so our baby, I thought, a perfect combination of both of us. Then a rush of something came over me. I paused shifting my eyes to my husband and then back to the ultrasound technician. Did they feel that? Did the room get warmer? Were their hearts beating a little faster? But they were focused on admiring the baby’s feet and toes.
The feeling was almost territorial. That baby on the screen was mine and nothing anyone said or did could take that away from me. We created that. This was going to be ours. And, jeez, I was pretty proud of that. We would be the ones to fill him or her up with love and that was really all I needed to do, everything else would fall into place. The feeling scared me because it was so real, so strong, yet…so simple. And then this amazing calm washed over me as if I had nothing to worry about. As if all those horror stories and worries I had brewing inside me was not even a thought. It was if someone or something filled me up to the brim and breathed life into me that I never knew existed. And I knew I’d have more than enough love to go around. No question.
But as fast as it came, it left. Like a strong breeze on a tired summer day.
It left me incredibly hopeful and eager for more, hungry to feel that again. And I knew I would…soon, and I have a feeling it won’t ever go away. Maybe I was simply supposed to get a little taste to calm my fears, to let me know I’m going to be just fine, and to remember what it’s all about…that this is my story, my little family’s story, and it’s all what we make of it, projectile puke and all.
What did it feel like when you first met your baby?
Waiting. I feel like I’ve been doing that a lot lately. You?
I’ll admit it. Patience is something I’m learning. I found either I need…
a. answers now (as in yesterday),
or
b. for things to happen fast.
I’m not sure if I was born this way or the busy world we live in is shaping me into someone who can’t quite sit still, or if I simply thrive when kept busy. I enjoy calling myself a mover and shaker.
A lot of this started in my twenties after graduating college. It was like: Welcome to the Real World. Good luck. I panicked. Now what? The independence and freedom were awesome, but I was a lost duck. I tried to understand the knot growing in my stomach but I didn’t know what to do about it. I did what any young single college graduate would do, I found a lot of substitutes to fill the void and I kept myself busy, real busy, hoping for an answer. But there was one thing I realized: I needed more. I craved more.
Why wasn’t I ever satisfied? I mean, I was doing some really great things. But I did a lot of comparing too. Everyone else seemed happier. Everyone else had better jobs, or had life figured out. All everyone else needed to do was smile and I swore their dreams were handed to them. I felt I had to work three times as hard. And still nothing. For some reason, I was in too much of a hurry and was hungry to move on to the next big thing. In doing so, I forgot to enjoy my own milestones (big and small). By the time I recognized the preciousness, I was on to the next phase. I couldn’t go back.
I think our twenties and growing into adulthood should be an adventure, a time of exploring, learning and discovering ourselves. Looking back, I consider myself very fortunate because some people have to grow up quickly, not always by choice.
Upon entering my thirties, a few things have been clear. I’m more confident in my skin. I like who I’ve become and I’m more content with life in general. And it’s when I am able to be there for someone, lend an ear or offer hope, I finally feel whole. Like I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing, almost as if I’m actually making a difference. But on the flipside, I definitely couldn’t prepare myself for the challenges ahead.
What has stood out to me most in this newer decade is more and more people around me are getting sick. I’m not talking the flu or cold, I’m talking the “C” word. Cancer. These people I speak of aren’t old people either (though getting cancer at any age doesn’t make it okay); they are 30-somethings with cancer. My age.
And now I’m left wondering why I’ve been in such a rush to get to this point? For this? Why didn’t I enjoy the carefree days a little more? Why didn’t I pay more attention? Why didn’t I allow myself to treasure what was going on around me more?
A dear friend of mine, Erin Youngerberg, (a New Prague native) went in to get a mole checked back in 2009, when she lived in North Carolina. She’s never been one to spend the summers in the sun but has light skin, reddish auburn hair and a bit of Irish in her. The mole on her upper back was bothering her; enough for her to get a doctor look at it, but was told it was nothing. In the meantime it bled a little, and itched, and grew a little bigger.
But if doctors say it’s okay, it must be okay. Right?
Wrong.
In 2010, Erin went on a trip of a lifetime to New Zealand. Her backpack rubbed up against that pesky mole, prompting her to make an appointment when she returned. At that time she had just switched jobs and moved to New Jersey. She set up an appointment at a new clinic. “It’s probably nothing,” said the nurse, but did a biopsy to please Erin’s persistence—a feeling she just couldn’t let go.
The waiting began.
Would the news be good or bad? Inside, Erin felt she already knew the answer. Cancer. Malignant Melanoma.
More waiting. More tests.
The latest tests came back. Stage 4 Malignant Melanoma. That wasn’t all. Small amounts were found in her lungs.
Waiting takes on a whole new meaning. Rushing through life doesn’t seem so urgent anymore. Other things that seemed to matter so much really don’t. Getting that great job, losing ten more pounds, an annoying coworker, the cute shoes at Macy’s. All those little stressors that will always be there don’t seem to be such a big deal.
But time does.
Erin is healthy. She’s full of life, and all but 32. Can this really be happening? I mean, didn’t I spend time eating whole pizzas with her in Italy and throwing back Ouzo and Mythos beer in Greece in our twenties? Why didn’t I cherish those times more? But I bet I was waiting to get back home to finish a project or worrying about the money I was spending.
Erin enjoying one of many pizzas in Italy. We had at least one a day while there. Good thing we walked a lot!
Me, my husband, Erin and friend exploring Greece!
How can she have cancer?
She tries to answer all our questions in her blog, and keeps us updated on the new drug treatment doctors hope to experiment with. And she takes pictures. Lots of pictures. Perhaps her eyes are wide open and she's able to see the real beauty around us, in what I so easily take for granted.
With May being Skin Cancer Awareness month, I urge you all to get your moles checked. If that's not enough, visit Erin's blog - Melanoma in the City!
Erin Youngerberg's personal blog - Melanoma in the City
The hardest part is waiting. It always is and probably will always be. But I think there is a lesson in it.
I can’t help but think that maybe we’re not put on this earth to wait or to fill our days with meaningless substitutes. Instead maybe we should enjoy the gift we’ve been given. Time. Time to enjoy each day for what it is and the miracles it brings—a full day of living. Maybe what we’re supposed to do is let go of all the fears and worries and trust that there is something bigger and greater behind this all. It’s hard to do, and takes a huge leap of faith, but I’ve noticed real amazing things start to happen when we let go. Truth and understanding peek through a little at time.
So what is it that we’re exactly waiting for? Why aren’t we simply living? I put my selfish thoughts in perspective and thought of Erin as I left an appointment at the skin doctor (got my own moles checked). In honor of her, I drove away with my windows down, my hair whipping me in the face and for once, in a real long time, I lived in the moment. And it felt good.
Do you know a young(er) person with cancer? What lessons have you learned from them?
Mexico and I broke up a little over ten years ago. Let’s just say I had a bad travel experience—one of my worst—and never looked back, vowing to go anywhere but there.
But with everything in life, things change….
My in-laws asked us on a trip to Mexico. I immediately started sweating bullets. This time would be different my husband promised. We’d fly into Cancun and drive south to Riviera Maya, staying at an all-inclusive resort. The adventure sounded a bit different than my disastrous spring break trip years ago. I was willing to give Mexico a second chance. After all Greece left me with bed bugs, Italy held me captive for ten hours in their airport and Machu Picchu served as rescue grounds for me, my friend and her broken leg. I didn’t let those moments stop me from traveling. Why should Mexico be any different?
A lot can change in ten years and you’d be happy to know Mexico and I have rekindled our relationship and are back together. With that said, this is the latest I noted while there.
Welcome to Riviera Maya!
- It does rain (yes, as in all day).
- You can drink the water (at least at the resort).
- You can eat most anything without torturing your stomach.
- There are a lot of Canadians.
- Canadians like their cigarettes.
- The only people not overweight seem to be Mexican or Mayan.
- The snorkeling is breathtaking.
- The water is amazing.
- Mexico time is different than American time. Five minutes really means an hour.
- Bathe in sunscreen and layer on lip balm with SPF. The sun is hot, hot, hot.
- Super tan (aka: pruned skin) is not always better or attractive.
- Tequila is oh so good.
- There are lots of fun little critters walking around.
- It helps to speak fluent Spanish (gracias Ben!).
- The lines at the airport are longer on a Saturday.
- Motion sickness meds on a six-hour fishing trip are like a best friend.
- There is great history in Mexico.
- It’s safe (at least where we were).
- The country really is beautiful.
- Second chances are worth it!
What has been your worst and greatest travel experience in Mexico?
Sun setting in Riviera Maya
Iguana in Riviera Maya
The evenings get cool in Riviera Maya
Riviera Maya's water is some of the bluest!
I have a confession to make. I’m normally a happy person, but for some reason I was crabby and a big ol’ mope most of January. At first I chalked it up to the cold, constant darkness and unfavorable weather.*
I even read somewhere that the third Monday of January is supposed to be the most depressing day of the year, though that claim has now been proven false. However, fact or fiction, that day has come and gone. The holidays are over. Christmas lights are down and trees are stuffed in garbage cans. The groundhog has yet to come out of his hole, and we Minnesotans know shadow or not we’re going to be faced with frigid weather and snowy days at least until April. Plus, it’s dark…all the time.
Life sure seemed like the weather outside, and I felt like hibernating. My day went something like: get up in the dark, go to work in the dark, come home in the dark and do it all over again. I guess it does change depending on weather—sometimes traffic is better than other days, but most of the time it sucks.
After a good month of heavy sighing and sulking I realized nothing was going to change unless I did. The more I blamed everything and everyone else; I realized I was the common factor. Talk about an awakening.
So what did I need to do? Figuring that out was the hard part. But I did. And it was called: change. Gulp. That word is scary and sometimes really hard to accept but I knew my first step had to be changing my attitude. The next: changing up my day-to-day. After all, I’m one who needs variety.
So I did something crazy. I pulled out a journal and started writing down my bucket list, otherwise known as the things I want to do before I ‘kick the bucket’. I allowed myself to write down any dream or goal that came to my mind, however silly. It was a fun little project and in no time I had a page full of things to keep me busy. I raked through the list once more and took out the extreme ones. Appearing on Oprah, making the cover of Shape and flying to Tahiti would have to wait. I took the goals that seemed attainable and focused on them. I started off slow, adding one every week, and before I knew it, life seemed different, challenging, fun and adventurous once more...and the snow…well, it actually looks pretty.
The changes that worked for me:
Find a new hobby
My mom raised my brothers and me to eat healthy and spent a lot of time in the kitchen, cooking and reading up on the latest, healthiest foods. She makes some mean tasting dishes. It wasn’t until my husband Karl and I married that I started using all the cool kitchen gadgets we received as wedding gifts and started to enjoy cooking. I also have a bit of an obsession with health, nutrition and fitness…and magazines. In these ten or so magazine subscriptions I get are recipes. Really healthy recipes. For the past several years, I’ve been ripping these out and storing them for someday. Just last month I decided, why not start cooking these today? What am I waiting for? One of my goals listed in my bucket list was to make a collection of our favorite recipes, with pictures and post them on a blog. I’ve been doing just that and friends are starting to follow along and cook healthier too! Follow along if you’d like. I’m still a beginner, be gentle.
Now this is some healthy cooking!
Try a new activity
I’m someone who wears a lot of layers (and sleeps with three comforters), even in the summer. And I’ve been known to drink hot chocolate in 90 degree weather. Bottom line: I hate being cold. So for me to face the outdoors when the temperature outside is below freezing is a long shot. That is until Karl received a pair of snowshoes from his dad for Christmas. He suggested I buy a pair so we could go together. They were shipped to me and he took me out to Murphy-Hanrehan Park where we didn’t just follow the nicely packed trails, we instead searched for white tail buck deer off the beaten path and got poked by branches and fell down every few feet. However, the funny thing was…I loved it. I was sweating, the sun warmed my face, my heart raced and the fresh air filled my lungs. It felt awesome to be outside again, doing something new with my partner in crime. Fresh air will do wonders.
Nothing like falling in fresh snow and getting attacked by trees. All in good fun.
Play with new people
I love volleyball, but even playing with the same people week after week, starts to feel consistent and routine (no offense Biggie Talls!). So a friend of my sister-in-law asked me to play on her team. A new team? Different people? What? I timidly responded, “okay”. As I walked into the gym, I felt nervous. The keyword here: I felt and I noticed. But I met new people, made friends and we ended up winning the tournament.
Put health first
My normal workout routine for the past few years: stair stepper, two to three times a week, programmed to cardio burn, set to level 11, twenty five minutes. That’s it. No wonder my body hit a plateau and I was going batty. Like us, muscles need variety too. My gym closed down last year and I signed up at Life Time Fitness. In the meantime I kept doing my same workout but had referred my brother and sister in law and earned two free trainer sessions, which I tried out last month. He’s kicked my butt, plus showed me all kinds of cool, fun moves. Now I’m doing different workouts and noticing my body taking on a new shape. I also took the time to find out my inner age and at what heart rate zone my body burns fat versus sugar. I find myself enjoying walking through the doors knowing I’ll be expecting the unexpected.
Go on an adventure
Cleaning, cooking, laundry, paying bills, etc. Unfortunately they all need to be done and aren’t going anywhere. Most of us don’t have the luxury of hiring help. Yet, we can take a break from it. Go somewhere new. Take the weekend off. Go on an adventure—plan for something so you have something to look forward to. The dust will always be there. You, on the other hand, won’t.
Set the bar high
Dreams take hard work and dedication. Set a big one for yourself for the year and go after it. Mine: publish my women’s fiction book. Last year I wrote and finished. This year I’m doing what I can to make my dream a reality. If you’re dreaming it, I think there’s a reason for that. Write it down. Hold yourself accountable and make it happen.
* I fully accept that I chose to live in Minnesota and need to suck it up [the cold weather] because the other three seasons are amazing.
What's on your 'bucket list'? Would love to hear it! Share below.
Are you scared of technology? You might be harming yourself.
Posted by: Christie Koester Updated: December 6, 2010 - 7:28 AMI just haven’t had the time to learn. I’m too busy. Is it me or are others also hearing this excuse a lot? Maybe not these exact words, but one can read between the lines...
For me, there are bigger issues:
- Poor time management
- Unwilling to accept change
- Fear of technology
I mean…come on…isn’t there an app for this excuse yet?
I get and understand that people are busy. Most of us are. I’m guilty of it too—I once launched a banana off my car driving on Highway 169 because I was hurrying to the next task and forgot where I left my snack. Even Kenny Chesney tells us all about life rushing by in his song, Don’t Blink. Life goes fast, it’s getting faster and it’ll be over in a ‘blink’ if we’re not careful.
And technology can help. It’s really not that scary.
Yes, there are many bells and whistles in the technical world—it’s hard to keep them all straight. We can warm our cars in parking lots while we finish up work. We can Skype people overseas. We can find our partners online. And track our calorie intake through our cell phones. What can’t our phones, computers, cars, houses do?
And guess what? Technology is going to keep progressing (i.e. getting faster, better, crazier). And in order for one to grow—let alone keep up—one must get acquainted with it; otherwise they’ll be ‘left behind’.
So why are we still doing so many things the old-fashion way, delaying action items, work flow and results? And why are we okay with this?
I wasn’t born with a computer in my crib, as some might argue. I’m in my early thirties. The first time I was introduced to software other than Word or Excel was my sophomore year in college. This was a big deal. The class was public speaking and a presentation was due. I dusted off my 3 x 5 note cards and handwrote bullet points, until the teacher stood up and told us our next speech had to be presented with the support of Power Point.
What?? She was making me?
I didn’t have the slightest clue what I was doing, but if I wanted a good grade, I had to learn. There wasn’t training offered or a teacher guiding me...or room for excuses. Learning was expected. I was in college for a reason, right? I set aside time.
Who did it benefit? Me. And the people who hire me.
My knowledge of the software was self-taught—the best part—it didn’t cost me a thing. It simply took a few moments clicking the “help” button or “Googling” questions. Yes, I got stuck. And yes I wanted to pull out my hair, but I was later hired for a couple internships (where I learned more programs and software) and then hired out of college because my ‘technical’ background …geez, and all because I gave learning a chance. I wanted to learn more.
My question: Should there be technology requirements enforced in the workplace? As in, if you aren’t going to embrace your computer or learn new technologies, software, databases, etc., you won’t be getting an A (i.e. a promotion).
In the long run, there must be limitations to the time and investments companies are able to spend on those who choose to fight technology and refuse to adapt. Wouldn’t it make sense for companies to start looking elsewhere; maybe for employees who want to grow? It’s just…wouldn’t you want to be the one everyone is looking for?
A favorite part in my day is scrolling through my BlackBerry and reading all my friend’s Facebook status updates. It makes me feel connected to them in a way. I will admit I have some creative, interesting friends.
But a couple days ago I came across a startling status update. One of the girls I coached years ago, a 15-year-old at the time, had posted she’d just gotten engaged. Sure, she was older now, but still, only 20.
What is the rush? Wasn’t 20 too young? Does she even know who she really is?
But I couldn’t exactly post: “OMG, who gets engaged at 20?” as my status, knowing she’d read it. Who was I to burst her bubble, throwing her off cloud nine? Maybe her marriage will be a successful one. I hope it is.
Instead I had to Tweet my thoughts. A few minutes later, one of my “tweeps” tweeted me back, “@cpkoester I have a few friends that met/started ‘going out’ in jr high and are still together doing very well/married.”
Ahh, judging. I was doing it again. Shame on me.
I took a step back. My grandma spent this past weekend sharing her love story as we dried dishes. At 18 she was married to the man of her dreams, my grandpa. Sixty years later, they still have the most amazing amount of love and respect for each other. I can’t help but be happy around them.
Then there are my parents. My mom was married at twenty one. Just the other month she confessed my dad still creates swarms of butterflies in her stomach, simply by the way he looks at her.
Love can happen and it can knock our socks off. But is it the lasting love to get us through 60 years of marriage? I almost feel like young adults today, including me, want everything right now, as fast as a BlackBerry sends emails.
But at a young age do we really understand all that goes into a marriage, and who we even are? Do we have that time to reflect, or are we busy jumping to the next task on our list?
Oh…and then there was me…I was once that young girl with a shiny ring on her left finger. A few days before my freshman year in college, my high school sweetheart grabbed my hand on a starry night, leading me to a cornfield a few blocks from my parent’s house under a green sign that read “Love Road”. He got down on a knee and proposed. I was 18. I couldn’t help but squeak out a yes, but everything inside me was screaming no. I was more worried about volleyball practice and my first day of college than walking down an aisle. That should have been my first sign. But life felt comfortable with him in it, and marriage was the next step, right? If I didn’t accept, we, as a couple, would be over. That was a scary thought at that age.
But love makes people do crazy things, especially when we think we’re in a bit of a race. And sometimes love has a way of sneaking up on us in all kinds of ways and it’s hard to deny.
Lucky for us, life got in the way. Our schedules became busy and complicated. We started maturing differently. Things fell apart; maybe a blessing in disguise even as much as it hurt. We broke up before the wedding bells could even ring.
What I didn’t know was I’d be single for the next nine years - most of my twenties. Plenty of time to question and second guess everything I did wrong, but also learn that sometimes finding the right person has to do with timing, a lot of patience and soul searching.
That didn't stop friends of mine from falling in love, walking down the aisle and having kids. Every time I’d turn a year older, or stood up in another wedding, I’d wish that’d be the year for me. Why not me? What was so wrong with me? Did I ruin my one chance…
While my friends were settling in their homes, sharing their views as newly married couples and the responsibilities that followed, I was watching. What worked? What didn’t? I recognized the people I needed most in my life, perhaps later this defined the characteristics I’d needed in a companion. My values changed – I didn’t need muscles and a six-foot Mr. Hottie Pants. I wanted the guy who made me laugh and was compassionate enough to listen when I opened my mouth. I started traveling the world, challenging myself, growing as a person and really got to know the most important person, myself.
I kind of liked myself and who I was becoming. I started to enjoy all the journeys life had in store for me. My grandparents would repeatedly tell me, do everything you want to do now because when you get older, you won’t. “Trust us.”
And just like that, as I inched closer to my thirties, the most perfect guy [for me] walked into my life at the most right time. I can’t help but think, would I have ever known any of this if I raced to the altar?
What do you think is the right age to marry?
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