Wednesday, April 25
nothing but rain
Okay, not nothing but rain. In fact the sun has been shining a lot lately and with it my mood is lifting.
I haven't written in ages because, frankly, I have been too bummed. I keep trying to write- I know for a fact that it helps me through times like these. But like so many blue funks before I instead retreated into aimless busy-work. Things like bouncing around hipmama.com or facebook or just wandering around the internet from curious article to curious article.
I have been taking in all the recent world changes, the deaths of people of historical significance, Kurt Vonnegut, Boris Yeltsin, the people of Virginia Tech... I have been hit over the head with the reality of global warming (though we all know we knew it long ago - we just thought our kids would be left holding the bag. Denial is a comfortable place.) My family's gone veg, something that's been a long time coming - I used my pregnancy to excuse my one jump off the wagon, I had a delicious steak while enjoying a free expensive dinner with one of my favourite mamas. We've moved to a new place much closer to EVERYTHING we moved to Vancouver for. We're struggling to adapt to a real budget that promises to get our debt-ridden asses out of the red one day. I am adjusting to my new dual role as baby-oven and toddler wrangler while simultaneously trying to restore order to our new abode. Life, as usual, is filled with highs and lows and I continue to handle them with my oft-unproductive, but dramatic flair.
On pregnancy - I have alluded to the fact that my pregnancy has taken more getting used to than I had anticipated. The reality is I went through what I realise now were the five stages of grief. Grief for the future I had lost, the plans I had made that would now be put on hold or altered entirely. All stages denial, anger, bargaining, depression - leading me to acceptance. I've been embarrassed to admit I felt this way. I really did want to get pregnant again. But I also really wanted my imagined life as mother of an only child. The relative ease with which I would be able to go back to school, how connected I imagined we would be, how we would travel and do things together... this reality isn't going to be a huge shift from that one (I hope) and I know that much of my desire to have him be an only child was to make up for my perception that I was the ignored older sibling of a much younger (half) sister. What I do know is that I can control how that all goes down as long as I stay mindful - a tall order for most parents. I have come to eagerly anticipate having a second child, though find myself just barely aware of my pregnancy much of the time. This attitude is so different from that of my first pregnancy that I often wonder if I "ought" to be more caught up in the"magic" of it all or if this "been there, done that" attitude is pretty normal.
Regardless of attitude the reality of my pregnancy is becoming more and more apparent. I have this odd counter-intuitive bodily reaction occurring where I am not gaining much weight (two pounds since getting knocked-up) but not one thing still fits well, I spend most of my days in my one pair of stretchy pregnancy jeans, the ones that keep my ever-expanding flubber contained in such a way as to simulate a cute pregnant belly, and on the days they're dirty I spend as much time as motherly possible trying to shove myself into something that doesn't make me look like the fat-ass I am (pregnant or not, I am a fat-ass). I desperately fight the urge to blow all the bill money on cute pregnancy clothes that I don't have to hold up with an elastic band. My mood-swings have lessened in frequency and severity but are still causing much tension chez casa del forsyth.
Tomorrow, Andrew is taking a sick day so that we can just bum about doing whatever we feel like (ignoring the packing/unpacking and cleaning/painting that require doing by end of month). I am looking forward to what I hope will be a day "off" for all of us. Dinner is already half-finished (leftovers from tonight's burritos will be mexican rice tomorrow), the house is tidy and all major chores have been done. I only counted nine boxes on my walk through tonight, and nothing essential in any of them. If the sun comes out (which is unlikely) we will hit the beach, if not we will grab coffees and got play at the park in the rain before looking for other ways to spend our time (I may, MAY, allow myself a modest shopping trip for another pair of pants and a shirt or two. I haven't decided yet), alternatively I pull out the sewing machine and start on a new mei-tai carrier for Sebastian. He's in a phase where he hates the stroller but can't walk all that far without needing a ride and my hips can't take much more of him riding on one side.
Yeah, maybe I'll do that.