Removing A Third Trimester Multi-Tasker's Glitch in The Matrix

Third trimester insomnia sucks. As a career-driven multi-tasker, the last two weeks have been quite challenging to work through. My mind is racing with thoughts about celebrating the future with our new little bundle of joy, getting everything ready for this next phase in our life, and checking the normal "new mom" to-do lists so we have everything near perfect for when the big day comes.

The major challenge is how do I slow down at work and balance this third trimester short-timer syndrome? This is something that freaks me out. I know it will happen, but it will continue to take numerous co-workers, friends, and family to make me slow down. This is a new endeavor. I am a workaholic. I love work. I breathe work. I compose the hymnal for everyone to sing in harmony from while at work.

How do you get used to not being a motivated team player who excels at work? That's almost like asking someone, "how do you cope with sucking?" in my world. That doesn't sound very nice. I know. But I am very hard on myself. This whole life shift is like watching a slow motion shoot-out in The Matrix. You see every intricate detail take place, every bullet graze a marble column, each splash as a boot runs through a puddle, but you know that only for a moment you can see everything so slowly, clear and calm. Then the camera speed goes back to normal and the anxiety level increases in the scene.

Let's just say that lately Drew goes out of his way to make vacuum lines in the carpet. Did you know that I find this surprisingly very calming? Color-coordinated closets also have the same calming effect for me. Any organizational tactic really is good for me. Maybe that's my way of removing a glitch in the matrix. There are other ways I'm getting through the glitch... the normal nesting, eating well, limiting caffeine, trying to relax (haha), working from home as much as possible, and really trying to focus on delegating work and prioritizing projects. I will leave my work team in a great spot, no matter when our little parasitic ninja arrives. They know they can call if they have a dire emergency. But the prepping still keeps me up at night.

So here I am, again, late at night, not able to sleep. Thoughts stream to the point of buffering to a standstill, and then suddenly, I'm wide awake again with a kick to the stomach or a thought about how to analyze some market research I just completed maybe in a different way than what I had originally thought of doing.

Who has some slow down suggestions?

Remembering Bill Fraunholtz, Sr.

ORIGINALLY POSTED IN JULY 2011
This weekend is jam-packed with family and friends. Drew and I have a great shower in store for us where we will see so many family and friends who are there to celebrate our future new arrival!

Bill & Karen (Kortum) Fraunholtz,
 circa Feb 2005

While we'll enjoy this great weekend, I will be thinking over the next week - even more than I already do - about how I wish my Dad was here to meet our new arrival in September. He would be proud, excited, and ready to celebrate!

So in memory of my Dad, I wanted to share the eulogy that I wrote for him at gave at his funeral on August 8, 2009. It wasn't huge or anything spectacular. It was just  a page full of words that meant - and still mean a lot to me. He'd be proud.

REMEMBERING MY DAD: JULY 5, 1948 - AUGUST 4, 2009

William Fraunholtz, Sr.,
St. Louis, MO, circa 1949

... There’s a saying that I’ve heard many times throughout my life that always reminded me of my Dad. In fact, he had a t-shirt with this saying on it, but he never really wanted to wear it. The saying was “you can always tell a German, but you can’t tell him much.” For those who knew dad well – you knew this to be a true statement.

Dad was very stubborn, straight forward, no-nonsense, and feisty. He was a hard-headed perfectionist who was meticulous about the details. Dad cared about doing things right the first time no matter what he was working on. He also never made it a secret that you were messing something up.

Eugene, Marjorie Pauline (Walkerow), and
Billy Fraunholtz, circa 1953

As many of you know, Dad was born here in STL to very hard-working German parents who came here from Pennsylvania and Ohio. They owned a tool distributorship downtown, which is where Dad’s carpenter roots began. He loved his tools, and he loved being busy. In fact, if he wasn’t working on his own projects, I bet he was working on many other projects for those of you here with us today.

Dad always had to stay busy. If he wasn’t working on something, he was in his garden out at Bo’s, running dogs with Ed, finishing basements with Dale, going hunting with Steve, or fishing with Uncle Wayne and the guys. There was always something going on.

Bill Fraunholtz, Sr., U.S. Army, Artillery,
Vietnam, circa 1967

My Dad knew how to have a good time too. I don’t think there is a Fraunholtz who doesn’t know how to have a good time. And with good times come many great friends. Dad had so many great friends who have woven themselves into the fabric of our family’s life. Dad taught us the importance of friendship, and what it means to value and respect relationships.

Dad taught the three of us kids so many things… manners, how to hit a ball, how to dance, how to drive, how to hunt for mushrooms, how to grow a garden.

Summer 2008, Dad's Gravely tiller/plow that he branded Budweiser, his favorite beer

Dad also taught us that life is about family. Even though he wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, he always pushed us to do our best, be our best, and be together. He so wanted a strong family. All of you here were his family. He would have done anything for any of you.

Larry's Tavern, Grover, MO - 2006

One of my favorite movies is called "Big Fish". It’s a story about a guy who is on the verge of losing his father. The entire movie is about how this guy’s dad had a story for every event in his life. Big stories. LARGER than life stories, and all his life the son never believed his dad’s stories because they were just so crazy. 

Anyway, one of my favorite moments in the movie is when a younger version of the father says, “There are some fish that cannot be caught. It's not that they're faster or stronger than other fish. They're just touched by something extra.”  My Dad was something extra.

Kirkwood, MO, Feb 2007

Kirkwood, MO United Methodist, Feb 2007

Later on in that movie, an older version of the dad says…”A man tells his stories so many times that he becomes the stories. They live on after him, and in that way he becomes immortal.” I hope all of you here continue to tell stories about my Dad, long after he is gone because he was an uncatchable fish who loved life.

June 2005

While I know this week has been somewhat surreal and unexpected for all of us, I can’t help but think that my Dad is in a better place where he can spread his wings, a place where he’s with his family, a place where he knows that his wife, children, family and friends all love him very much. Even though we couldn’t tell him much, he knew how much we loved him. I’m proud to be his daughter, and we’re all proud that he is our Dad. Let’s remember everything that Dad shared with us – those bigger than life stories that will live on in each of us. Let’s be happy knowing that those memories will live on until we meet again.

May 2006