Caroline Price

On Crying

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So most of my therapy talk is off limits on the blog but something I have been working on is my ability to cry– I do not cry easily anymore. Until last night it was just a theory, but now I’m pretty sure it’s just because my mind has blocked off my ability to feel.

I am reading Glennon Doyle’s Untamed (which is fabulous, BTW), and something in the book reminded me of this ongoing issue my therapist and I have talked about on and off, and I decided to experiment. It was bedtime (past actually), and I remembered I used to do my best thinking and feeling in the shower, so I took my daily shower last night instead of this morning. And then I proceeded to think about a series of the saddest and scariest things that have happened in my life, and….nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing with regard to family issues or previous relationships or anything at all. No feelings to go with any of it, either.

But then, I remembered sitting alone in NICU Bay 20, and being incredulous that they had brought a baby warmer into my room at 34 1/2 weeks, and how it didn’t feel like I thought having a baby was supposed to feel like, and how Jared and I were all alone for so long with this baby in the NICU that the said would live but I just wasn’t sure. I remembered sitting there in the dark with Porter under the bili lights when he was 3-4 days old, with me journaling while Jared was off at his first graduate school classes, prepared to say goodbye to him at any moment as the alarms started going off with unpredictable but certain regularity, and just being grateful to have experienced being a mother for even a day or two. I remembered the terror at hearing the alarms whenever I touched him or held him, and what it felt like to not be able to hold my child for any length of time. I remembered being certain I was going to give birth to a dead baby at 34 weeks and I remembered the sound of his cries before he was even out all the way, so mad to have been evicted from my body that was done with him before he was done with me.

I remembered being alone with all of this at 26 years old, so far away from home and people I loved. And, the tears came in a big sob.

I can feel. It’s just buried damn deep.

But the thing is….as soon as it came, it was over and I was back to feeling normal and ready for sleep. It wasn’t a flood.

But man, I normally only dream when I take certain medications, but I sure dreamed a range of very bizarre, vivid dreams last night. So strange.

Hopefully, there is more of this work to come. Can’t say if I’ll feel compelled to write later or not.

Why Did I Not Love My House?

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So it is Sunday and I am up before noon for once and biscuits are in the oven like I am a real mom.

I know I mentioned that we are not selling our house but that led to a big ignore of housework until the dog hair piled up for weeks. I had enough of it a couple of days ago. Swiffer to the rescue. We gave up on the carpet stair treads because the maintenance of those things in reference to said dog hair was a nightmare. We are back to no socks or shoes on when you are on the stairs as the general rule. Liam is pretty much the only one who thinks the rule doesn’t apply to him. Fingers crossed nobody (mostly me) falls.

The New Desk

As you probably saw on Facebook, this happened, and I feel like I have been redeemed:

This is not the first roll-top desk I have had. We bought one at a yard sale probably 10-12 years ago. It was bigger than this one, and I took a few days to restore it and go over the finish and clean it up. But then, we had someone in (a designer/organizer) who declared to us that we had too much furniture and stuff in general, and my beloved roll-top desk was amongst the casualties to find another home.

And in general, I don’t listen to designers/ organizers anymore. Or rather, I don’t hire them to tell me what to do with my stuff anymore. Along with buying less stuff in general these days, it works out.

The Kitchen and Family Room

The kitchen is progressing. Well, it hasn’t progressed in two or three days because boredom and distractibility and cleaning other parts of the house. But I feel good about the state of things and hope to finish the bottom half of the first side today. No pictures. It’s a mess. And while I am dreading the process, I have decided the front half of the wine rack above the fridge is probably getting painted. Yuck.

O’s little desk got moved from the family room to Jared’s office. The toy box in the family room also made it’s way to O’s room. Yippee skippee the family room doesn’t feel overcrowded anymore thank goodness. Jared has been working with O to clean out and rotate some of the toys in his room. Thankfully, O is cooperating with the process.

The Yard

So…..

We are not the best at maintaining the yard with any regularity whatsoever. We have the best intentions and neither of us hates cutting grass but it just doesn’t always get done.

So, we decided to break down and hire monthly yard maintenance. Only once a month and we’ll have to continue to take care of the in-between. But at least we’ll know if we let it slide that it will get done eventually.

Photography

Sessions right now are on an “I’ll think about it” basis. We are in a pandemic, people. Be safe!

In general, one of the X-H1’s has the 50mm f2 on it set on 1×1 mode in Acros for no thinking photo therapy. I’m making myself pick it up a couple of times a day. Those photos probably won’t make it here.

That’s all for today.

love, Caroline

Stacey & Jonathan Engagement Session: One

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Stacey and Jonathan are getting married in October of 2021! They have opted to do two engagement sessions: one now and one this Fall. We did this session at Cochran Mill and it was a beautiful location! I can’t wait for their wedding at Ten Oaks Wedding and Event Venue in Buchanan!

Citrus Garden & Love is in the Air!

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Citrus Garden Shoot :
Planner – Alyssa at @ivoryandpineco
Florist/Decor – Hannah at @yourbestguest
Calligraphy (lemon wedges at table) – macleodninedesigns
Rentals (benches & farm table) – @popetentsandevents20
Bridal Gown – Davids Bridal
Grooms Suit – @generationtux
Hair – (High Hair) @m_brooks_L
Makeup – Makeup by Callie Freeman
Invitations- Minted
Cake – @cakeartbyjen
Venue – @englundestate  


Love is in the Air Shoot :
Planner – Christie with @wildflowereventdesign    
Dress – @heavenstobetsybridalga
Hair – (High Hair) @m_brooks_L
Makeup – Makeup by Callie Freeman 
Bouquet – Belle Flower (Dawson Ga)
Cake – @cakeartbyjen 
Model – @ladonataylor
Venue – @englundestate

Hair Issues

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*sigh*

As you have probably seen by now, I had Finch chop most of my hair off.

I’m so damn conflicted.

I love the edgy. I love showing off the camera tattoo behind my ear. I love the purple that is already fading into a beautiful silver after one wash. I love the under shave.

But….

I spent from Feb of 2018 to June of 2020 set in a “long hair is better” mindset and working to that end. Thyroid be damned, thin hair be damned. And in 24 hours, from Friday to Saturday, I decided it was all going. Finch pulled me from the buzz cut ledge to the wide mohawk ledge. A little style, a little personality.

It feels like that two years of hair obsession was an utter waste of time.

*sigh*

Why do we do this to ourselves as women? Why do I even care? I have stopped waxing my eyebrows– a single shave in the mornings down the middle is enough, to avoid the uni. I’ve mostly given up on makeup….. lip gloss is enough and anything else breaks me out and I’ve made peace with that fact.

Why am I so wrapped up in my hair? Why does it have anything to do at all with femininity? I have all the female parts. That’s what defines femininity. Why do I usually love my hair short for like 3 days and then wish for something different, something that takes multiple years of careful maintenance and many many months of self-conscious in-between to achieve? Why do I lose that confidence in the cut after three days?

Part of it is a weight issue. Which, if I am truthful with myself, is a lack of activity issue. When I was 50 pounds lighter, I loved my pixie cut. I remember being 27 and being sure I would never have anything other than a pixie cut ever again. And being at peace with that fact

Part of it is a geography thing. I came of five years in the urban in my 20’s, where buzz cuts or whatever variety of short was no big thing on women. Out here, I am surrounded by long hair everywhere out in public, on all ages.

My Nannie would approve. That observation is important to me. She didn’t like long hair on women after a certain age. She mostly put me in that category by the time I was 20— I remember I had long hair when I was 21-22 and Nannie offered to take me for a haircut. She probably wouldn’t find the undercut particularly appealing, but she’d be all for the short hair. And there was never any question of her femininity. But then, she had a standing appointment at the beauty shop every Friday because she refused to wash her hair at home. So. That’s a different kind of high maintenance.

I want to be in the androgynous “I don’t care” camp. I want to be cognizant of the fact that my thyroid is wonk and I am 40 years old and I do not need to try to achieve some 20-something ideal that I didn’t find ideal in my 20’s even.

Middle age crisis is here, but it’s not so much about the idea of aging or anything that comes with it. I’m good with being a little old lady sooner than later. It’s more about frustration about societal ideals which I refuse to box myself into. It’s about having regret no matter whatever I do. And regretting that fact– it’s a thing I am working on.

I need to work some Steve Ross back into my life with some regularity. Life is better with high impact yoga.

Notice the self-absorption. I talk about myself as a coping technique because the world is making me crazy. Wear a mask, people. We are still in a pandemic. And, for the people who still need to hear it– black lives matter.

The World and Motherhood

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The world. *sigh*

I am waiting to make a post about the styled shoot I went to last week until the film comes back. Unfortunately, the film won’t be back until July because I cannot afford to send it off until then (reasons: priorities in order, budgeting, band, and priorities in order–for once).

Porter and I watched 13th last night. I’d seen it when it came out in 2016 but the boys were not old enough to watch then. Porter is 13 going on 40 and wants to be engaged with the world, so I really felt like he was mature enough to deal. It was a tough watch because it sort of gave me PTSD flashbacks to the worry before the election and why I stopped sleeping. But I managed to sleep 10 hours last night, so that is a good thing. And man…..this is an important watch for everyone. I continue to listen.

It has been a topsy turvy couple of weeks both for this world and for my psyche.

This has been a week of retrospective reflection on becoming a mom…..not about the parenting aspect, but the physical changes a body goes through to become pregnant and what it means to be a woman. We decided nearly seven years ago that there would be no more kids after Oliver– after deciding nearly 13 years ago that there would be no more kids after Liam……*sigh*……

Life is so much less stressful now that the baby years are behind us. But during those fertility years, I put so much weight behind my self-esteem in my ability to provide kids for my family…..not just Jared but my extended family as well. And now that those years are firmly over, Jared still has to occasionally reassure me that my value was never tied to my ability to get pregnant. And quite the contrary, Jared values the freedom we have now, too. I know that. And, babies are expensive.

The baby years made me crazy, too, though less so with Oliver than the other two. Being on the cusp of perimenopause– with those years safely in the distance– is making me reflective about the process of being Caroline and bringing a baby into the world. It was trauma to the n-th degree in nearly all aspects aside from feeling baby move. Worth it? Yes. But traumatic anyway.

There is not much more to say publicly about it. I am journaling a lot right now. I love my children and being a mom and I wouldn’t trade the experiences or the people they are for anything in the world. But there is stuff to process that I didn’t process in the moment.

Jared is right. There is a reason God gave me boys to parent. I would have had a hard time bringing up a girl to be a healthy woman. And I am grateful every day for that fact that I have my boys.

There Are No Words

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What I’m feeling these days doesn’t matter much in the grand social scheme of things. I’m listening as much as possible. I struggled whether to even write because my voice isn’t what is needed right now at all.

But when people in my circles are just upset that riots are destroying property, it feels awfully hopeless. When family uncomfortably changes the subject or says I am judging (white) people without love or grace, it feels even more hopeless.

I restarted The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander yesterday. I bought it oh, at least two years ago and made it about halfway through last time before I got distracted by something or other.

Jared has been invoking scripture in his Facebook posts and it got him a brief moment. He did his best to interact with grace with people who in my opinion didn’t deserve it. I share my spirituality more with our oldest than I do with my husband.

I got called back to my religious studies roots this week and also started re-reading Womanspirit Rising which, its own editors admit, left out a more diverse voice, but pointed to resources which I might find more relevant voices.

It feels hopeless. And it’s only my job to listen and shut up and call out people in my own community. But I am here to say as a white woman, there are barriers in our community by our own that even stand in the way of those of us who want to listen. That may sound like a cop out and maybe it is. But when I have people asking me how Trump is even responsible for contributing to the Coronavirus result….. and when there are people who won’t even acknowledge that there is a racism problem in our community….it just feels hopeless.

The depression that’s been worse over the last couple of weeks got worse last night. I’ve mostly stayed off Facebook today. Jared reminded me I don’t have to engage every day. Jared took Oliver to Mama’s for the afternoon because I just couldn’t this afternoon. My Effexor dose has been raised but the pharmacy had to order the raised dose so it will be another 30 hours or so before I get my medicine. And even then, it will be a while before it actually takes effect. If it even works at all. I’m allowed to have my anxiety medicine up to twice a day and this week I am taking advantage of that. I spent the morning sleeping as avoidance as I do when I’m at my most depressed. At nearly 4 pm, I am still having my coffee.

I just don’t understand people who don’t see the parallel between what has happened politically in our nation and the racism that is a plague in this nation. You cannot separate the two. “Make America Great Again” was always about making America great for white people. Donald Trump was elected as a direct result of the racist reaction and anger a large portion of the country had to the leadership of a black president.

Which is a shame, because it is blatantly apparent that color of skin matters more than quality of leadership.