busy buzzy bee

So, I've got a few days and nights here where I can take the time I want and need to get some things done. Last night I stayed up late working on my new budget spreadsheet and tonight's project - a return to meal planning!


Today was a bit busy - an early morning haircut, a trip to the glasses store to pick up Andrew's hot new frames and get Boo's often-abused specs adjusted. We grabbed lunch there (don't worry - we went to lunchbox - local, organic, yummy, budget stretching, but not breaking) and when we got home I bailed on plans to go outside and went to bed instead. It was nice.

I woke up to a snuggly Boo (who had snuck out of his own bed) and decided I did want to go out - called up a friend and went to see Baby Mama. It was about as meh as I expected it to be, but it was good for a couple laughs and required me to do nothing but sit and watch. It was nice, too.

Tomorrow we'll finally do some laundry and that makes me happy. I'm planning a small grocery trip that should stock us up for the next two weeks and a visit to my favourite discount store (it is like an old five and dime - I heart it!!). Andrew is out tomorrow night, so I am going to snuggle in for some Buffy!!! I can't believe I am only in Season 4/7.

be the change

This mothering thing is hard. One minutes you think you've got it and then something happens and the rules of the game change.

I, for my part, have been hard at work on myself. I have learned so much in this past short while, my son and daughter are excellent teachers.

I apologise for my recent internet absence, I don't know when or if I will return to "blogging" nor do I know what it will look like when/if I do. I do know that right now is a really amazing and changing time for me, full of glorious highs and difficult lows.

This has been a really incredible month - an incredibly challenging and rewarding month. It is with great sadness that I say farewell to my therapy group. I have been blessed to share a special connection with five other amazing women. It is with great joy that I begin to reconnect with my friends and my life outside of the house. Even the friends who think (erroneously) that time spent with them is nothing more than a drain because of the challenges they're facing.

I am learning so much right now, I get the sense that I am shedding my skin and becoming something more. All my past, all my mistakes and trials have led me to this spot - I am beginning to forgive and understand, not just in my mind, but in my soul. I am also beginning to see more clearly what my role as parent really is (guide), as opposed to what I think it is supposed to be (trainer).

There is still so much to learn, but the path is long and I have time. Knowing who I want to be and where I want to be is only a small part of this, I can't believe it took me until now to see that. The larger part is being the person I want to be. Acting with integrity and faith in myself.

Who knew it was so simple? Who knew it could be so hard?

check out what we've been up to lately on flickr

I can understand why some animals eat their young

As I sit in my (mostly) clean, dimly lit living room, listening to some nice ambient music and waiting for Andrew to finish putting Sebastian to sleep, the day we just endured an already fading memory, I wonder why I waste so much energy getting annoyed with my son.

He will be off to school in five minutes, an adult tomorrow, a parent next week - will the fact that on October 1, 2007, he refused to nap and began every screaming sentence with the statement "NO, I don't like ___" matter? Or will a million other things happen between now and then? Over the course of parenthood I will have plenty of opportunity to be angry, annoyed and frustrated. I will also have a million opportunities to choose not to get angry, not to yell, to instead, handle myself with poise and dignity. The fact that these last months I have done more yelling than listening will not permanently scar my child - not if I don't let them. What I mean is, as long as I am working towards something better - and as long as this yelly-mom state is temporary - than things will be just fine.

I've begun reading a book I found at the thrift store last weekend, titled Positive Parenting A-Z and already I feel like it has some light to shed on what has been going on lately. I haven't made it to the A-Z part yet (where it covers "everything" from Adoption Issues to Zoo (and other outings)) but began reading through the concepts of positive parenting and can see places where I, usually with best intentions, have been more permissive than positive - with a bit of angry authoritarian thrown in for good (bad?) measure.

introspection and a future engineer and his tractor.

I find it amazing how, when I spend less time on my own, I end up thinking more. Our week has been pleasantly full, yesterday Sebastian and I ran necessary errands before going to the park - and at every stop we found some lovely, light conversation. Following a very tense non-nap, we packed into the car and headed towards New West, our ultimate destination was a good friend's house where we had dinner plans. Sebastian, quite predictably, fell asleep shortly after take-off.

Dinner was great - food from a local won-ton house - and was followed by a blissful period of child and husband/fiance-free time. My friend's fiance treated himself to a new Xbox (and Halo, of course) and Andrew and Sebastian went along for the ride. Meanwhile, my friend, Shannon, and I got to drink tea and talk. It was wonderful and something I had been craving.

We all stayed up a little later than we ought to have (she had an early shift and we had a grumpy boo, but no one really wanted to rush home to bed). We came home to a house that looked like I had rushed out the door with an uncooperative toddler... normally not something I would worry much about, but I was hosting my very first playdate the next morning. We stayed up a little later tidying before deciding to leave it and sleep.

This morning was spent cleaning, tidying, discovering that none of the markets nearby open before 8, but that if you order decaf at 7:40 at Blenz by Capers they make you an americano (YUM). We spent too much on organic produce and rushed home just in time to sort toys, vacuum and welcome our first guests. I quickly finished tidying (read: hiding all the crap that ends up on the dining room table) and when the second guest arrived I ducked into the bathroom to do my hair. I was a bit of a frazzled host and Sebastian was a bit of an ungracious one - but we had fun and I think most everyone else did too. People left within an appropriate span of time and the one family that stayed later was very much welcome. Sebastian had a great time playing with a slightly older boy and I really (*really*) appreciated the support and advice I got from an experienced mama of two. Again, something I had really been craving - just someone to tell me that a) everything will be okay and b) my bully-son is a perfectly "normal" two-year-old.

After everyone had left and we had eaten a quick lunch, I took Sebastian to the bedroom for a nap. The child was beat and we had talked a few times about how much better he would feel after a nap - but I was scared. Naps have not been going well around here and I was really doubting my ability to put this child to sleep (which of course is compounded by my vivid visions of trying to console a crying infant while trying to get a belligerent toddler to take a necessary nap), for a few weeks now, naps have been a black cloud over our days. The fight to get him to sleep would leave me so emotionally drained that I could barely function - and my mind would be left racing and unable to rest. I've been absolutely useless.

Today, however, would be different. Today I had a greater presence of mind - having spent time discussing all sorts of things with other adults - and I had a greater sense of myself - having begun to read and really internalize (parts of) Birthing From Within. Things started predictably, the moment we got into the bedroom Sebastian went from sleepy to excited, he drank his milk and then wanted to play/cuddle/read/etc. I stayed calm and focused and read from the same bad script I had been trying to follow since things started falling apart. But then... I decided to improvise. I figured that the worst that could happen would be that he wouldn't nap, again. So I decided to roll with things and see where we ended up and guess what?? He was asleep within 15 minutes. I had so stubbornly been sticking to my cool and quiet routine that I hadn't considered that he may need to start again from a more comfortable place. I went back a few months to where we came out of our last napless funk and put my hand on his back as he fell asleep... and he did fall asleep. I shit you not I almost cried.

The lesson is to not be so rigid and to work with the flow of mothering. A good lesson to have learned today and one that will help me both in my day-to-day and on that bigger day, the one where we welcome our new family member.

It is a tractor - he built it himself with just a little help getting the bits together

He was so proud (as were we).

something so right

There are only two options when life hands you any difficult set of circumstances. On one hand you can fall apart, you can give up and wallow in a place of sadness and pity. On the other, you can find the brightness and a reason to smile (even through tears).

Generally, I tend to be a wallower - feeling sorry for myself, feeling like life has handed me a shitty hand simply feels comfortable. It is my wall, it protects me. It is an infuriating trait that I have very thankfully been growing out of for years - but when things get rough I tend to revert. I get whiny and sarcastic - oh and it is all about me... me and my problems and the difficult work of laying blame.

As our adventure began:



Some wallowing is allowed in every one's life, every once in a while life just sucks - and it is alright to say so. But life isn't awful all the time, it isn't even awful most of the time, and generally I think it would be best to conserve my self-pity for the times it is warranted. I was handed just such an opportunity yesterday. First I accidentally threw my nearly new digital camera onto a public bathroom floor - rendering it useless on the final day of my trip home. Informed by the clerk of the repair shop that it would not be worth fixing I found myself in a place of pity.

I cried, I felt like an idiot for breaking my camera, I chided myself for not being responsible, I scolded myself for thinking I was worthy of owning something so nice, I tried to will time to reverse so that I could change the outcome.

After pulling myself together and deciding to wallow in the privacy of my parent's home I headed to a store to get bus fare. I willfully ignored the bright pink sign stating that the store did not make change for transit and sweetly asked if I could please get my change back in bus-fare friendly bits. The woman behind the counter, who undoubtedly hears this all the time, pointed out the sign and very sternly explained to me that no, she would not make change. I was still in pity mode and was feeling attacked - my response was to try and escape - but not until I had made the required change by buying something else. I muttered about having a bad day and her not needing to be a bitch considering I was solving the problem. She yelled angrily behind me as I left the store.

I put my small clutch inside my large diaper bag and I stood outside another shop's window and had a good cry. I pulled myself together again and walked to the transit platform.

When I arrived I went to get my small clutch out of my large diaper bag and it was gone. I muttered many things under my breath and walked back towards the mall - feeling very beaten-down. I called Andrew as I entered the air-conditioning and told him I had lost my purse. With him talking me down I walked back to the place I had gotten change and asked the woman if she had seen my purse. She said no, she said she had seen me put it inside my bag, she asked me if I was sure it was missing, uncertain and hopeful, I dumped out my purse on her lotto table and verified once again that it was not there. She checked the candy bars, in case I had dropped it, all the while saying she had seen me put it in my bag. Through my head ran the following scenario:

I am stuck in Calgary without identification or access to money. I can not board a plane home until I have proper ID for both Sebastian and I. I am 35 weeks pregnant. I am going to end up stranded in Calgary and giving birth in a hospital surrounded by strangers. I am not going to be able to fly home for six weeks (because waiting for ID would take more than a week, by which point they would not let me fly, and once the baby is born it can not fly until it is 7 days old - I may have been hysterical, but I could do math). My whole world was falling apart.

So I snapped at this woman, who I am now sure was just trying to help, but felt like an insidious leech sucking my remaining goodwill. She snapped back at me, I gained the attention of pretty much everyone on every floor of the mall while I had a total meltdown. Security was called, a very bored-looking bloke took my statement and information - he told me not to hold out hope, that wallets usually get tossed and that I probably would never see it again.

Realising he was right, I pulled myself together again. I started asking mall staff if they had seen my wallet, on the off-chance someone picked it up and turned it in. Suddenly this man came up to me and handed me money - he wanted to make sure I got where I needed to go safely. I fell apart.

Meanwhile, Andrew was on hold with Air Canada to find out what I would need to do. I headed to a bank branch on the off-chance they could give me a new bank card. They did. By the time I had finished there Andrew had found out that if we had a police report regarding the lost or stolen identification we could board the airplane. So we walked to where I thought the police station was, then walked to where the police station *actually* was.* I told the inconvenienced-looking young officer that I wouldn't normally bother reporting my wallet, but that the report was necessary. He understood and morphed into a very helpful and sympathetic guy.

As I filled out my reports, I overheard a distraught woman try and get in touch with someone on in vice whom she felt she had developed a relationship. The police were pretty cop-like, not asses, but cold, factual and detached. I felt sorry for her and I wondered, not for the first time that afternoon, why I thought my trauma was so all-important. I completed the report as quickly and concisely as I could. I thanked every deity that I was still alive, still healthy, still in the presence of a toddler who's boredom could be overcome with simple toys and healthy snacks.

I thanked them all that I could fly home, that I had a clean, safe and loving home to fly home to, I thanked them for the lives around me, for the life inside me.

By this point it was rush hour, I was determined to get back to my parent's place and shed my sweaty clothes and relax. We waited 20 minutes for a train that was "empty" enough that we could all board. A woman I shared the platform with cleared us a path. As we'd waited she had told me stories about her many children, her job, and life. On the train another woman pulled Sebastian's stroller in tight to her body to give me and the belly a little more room. Every time I apologised she would give me that "oh please" look and tell me to stop worrying so much. She assured me that I wasn't in the way and that everything was fine.

I got home and excitedly told my story to my step-father, still full of pity - but also a hint of humour and hope. When my mother got home I told her the story too. We had dinner and discussed the petty crime that comes with a booming economy, we talked about my luck in still being able to fly the next morning, we talked about other things and enjoyed our meal.

After dinner my step-father informed me he would be replacing my camera, had already priced them online and that we should do it immediately. He has this really funny little soft spot and I know that in telling my story the part that still hurt the most was losing my camera. This is a man who I compared to an ogre in childhood and through adolescence, whose kindness I have very rarely glimpsed (though I am always assured it exists). This is a man with whom I have butted heads for most of my life.

This morning we left the house at 6:00am. The sweetest image was of my step-father carrying my son downstairs, neither are morning people, but both were smiling widely. I felt so blessed in that moment, in the house I had grown up in, surrounded by the family I had once known as my own, having survived (nearly) a week. Not just survived. I enjoyed myself. I learned a lot. I re-centred. I was spoiled. I saw my sister as the adult she is becoming, I saw my parents as the people they are, I saw myself in a crystal clear mirror and saw things I didn't like and things I love.

And I got a great haircut. And I saw old friends. And I made a new one. I was inspired and inspiring - our choices to work to be green, to move to a new city, to be a young family were all affirmed. I left feeling like I was doing a pretty good job of life, that my perceived failures and shortcomings were just that - my perceptions.

All in all, a pretty good week.



*I have finally mastered the gmaps pedometer!!

and now, a bit of regret

I realised while thinking about my amazing growing boy (who yesterday asserted that he had a sister - we shall see if he is right!) that in April his dad and I wrenched him our of a community of families that he was just growing comfortable with and have yet to replace them. Part of it is that I didn't want to have to "replace" any of the wonderful people we had met while we were living in New West, and part of it was my hormonal hermityness, and part of it was my shyness - I had spent so much of my social energy meeting the people I had met - could I really do that again??

So we have kept busy and have seen our old friends on occasion (old friends who I miss dearly and wish I could see more often) but we have yet to make any nearby. That is a lie, I have met loads of parents and kids - I haven't invested much energy into becoming their friends.

Today I promise all of us that I will make more of an effort to meet some people and be social. We're off to the Family Centre this morning (finally) and instead of heading downstairs and talking to the staff, I will find some other parents to talk to.

OK?

go!


maybe I ought to shower first...

sick day

Sebastian and I took a sick day today - we skipped the family centre this morning after a long series of small tantrums. That, combined with his still-runny (clear snot) nose, led me to believe that he wasn't feeling 100%. So, instead, we did one of those things we rarely do - we spent the day on the bed watching movies.

We watched Cars and Over the Hedge - two of his "favourites" before nap-time. I managed to get more done in my attempts to streamline our household processes (oh, oh, who used to be a manager???) and I am giving the whole (somewhat cultish) FlyLady bit another shot. Though this time it is on my terms!

During Sebastian's nap I watched Starsky and Hutch and got to work. I will post my progress as I work through this - I am figuring I only have a few short weeks left to get us onto something we can follow amid the chaos, one of which will be spent in another province, so I am poo-pooing the baby-steps and jumping in with both feet. The next little bit will likely include a lot of throwing ideas up and seeing what sticks. Thankfully we don't have anything too complex to worry about - our apartment is tiny and our budget small, my routines are already pretty simple - now it is just a matter of getting stuff to a point where a monkey could do it (knowing that that will be about how functional we will be post kid#2). Last month I made a master budget to take us through until fall, I need to tweak a few things (how on earth did I forget to include Andrew's monthly bus pass??) and extend it through to next year. This budget is based on months of budgeting and effort, but is to a point where I can automate most of our bill payments and set up calendar notifications that go to both Andrew and I when we need to physically do something.

Having done that and having done a lot of work on our meal plans and grocery habits, I figure consolidating everything and adding housework will be, if not simple - at least doable.

After Sebastian's nap I popped him back in front of the Backyardigans and did a little necessary nesting. Last week I cleaned out my cupboard and put all our bulk stuff into jars, so we can see what we really have.

And then today I scrubbed under the sink and finally organised our pots, pans, plastics and appliance cupboard (the biggest of three cupboards in our teeny kitchen). That's two huge things off my pre-baby to-do list (a long, long list).

In other news, my first-ever vegetable garden is making food we can eat - we got a nice harvest of peas and this last week we have eaten beans and onions from the garden. I have some beets and (a whole LOT of) cucumbers that will be ready for harvest pretty soon. There are even tomatoes on my tomato plants. This is especially exciting when I consider that I a) had not a clue what I was doing and b) pretty much neglected the whole thing all summer.

wha' happen?

It's been a long few weeks - 32 of them, to be precise.

Pregnancy is really kicking my ass this time around, it seems. Or more accurately, it is eating my brain. I can't kick this sense that things that ought to take me no time at all are taking me far too long - and I would likely be right. I am moving at the pace of a sloth, a very lazy sloth.

It isn't just physically, or even predominately physically, my mind has slowed right down and it takes me so long to process a thought. I am finding myself very easily distracted too - case in point, I sat down nearly two hours ago to write this blog entry - great ideas floating around my head like pretty balloons. But then I checked my email, and a website, and then the news headlines, then I thought of something - so I looked up our old grocery delivery service, and there was music to listen to, and a new craft project to mull over, plus photos from our last week to upload to Flickr and then, suddenly, it is noon and nearly time for me to go pick up my dear son (whom I am assuming has had an amazing time with his dear, young, unpregnant aunts).

Bloody hell.

I remember a time when my writing was good with tiny smatterings of pretty great. I know this happened because I can look back and see it... No, I may not have ever been on the path to winning any awards or even entertaining more than three people - but it was something that was mine, my outlet, my something tangible - and now I feel like it escapes me (to the point that it took me three attempts to spell "escapes"). I am sure that it is all still in there, somewhere, and that my current manifestation as Kate Harris - wife, mother, cooker of food and grower of people, will evolve to include all the other things I enjoy doing (and frankly, there have been a few days here that I have very much enjoyed none of my titles as currently written).

I am very much looking forward to two now-pressing sewing projects, even though completing them will mean a slip in another area. I have two weeks to make a late birthday/christmas gift and then a little more time (though not too much) to complete my very first commission. I have made a commitment to finding ways to simplify everything else - like returning to paying a bit more for the convenience of healthy, organic food delivered to my door weekly, and sticking to my very detailed and organised budget.

And because this is the best photo I have ever taken - EVER

taken just before leaving the dock on a small ferry trip around False Creek

breaking through my inertia

It is no secret that I have been battling a little bad mojo over here - I've been feeling lots of shades of blue and gray. I am the first to admit that the last bit of my life has been a trial, first to bitch to anyone who will listen, but the reality of things is, I have it pretty good - and while I feel more blue than I am used to, I know that I am not sliding into depression. At least I am 99% positive I am not. I say this as a person who has been through depression and someone with more than a healthy relationship with denial. I say this because I feel happy between the gray and blue, I say this because I feel normal and a little overwhelmed.


I feel normal, perfectly normal with the scars that come with it. I feel a great variety of emotions and even some that occasionally feel a little excessive, but in the end I keep coming back to me. Something that never happened when I was in my dark place. What I forget is that, while feeling perfectly normal, I still need to work hard.

I worked really hard when I came off my medication three plus years ago. I was desperate not to get pregnant while on pills and somewhat foolishly came off by myself with no medical support. I weaned myself almost accidentally - I started missing my morning dose, then would often start forgetting my afternoon dose... it was a conscious choice, but it happened without my giving it much thought. It took some time to adjust to life with feelings, especially with dark feelings, but in the two years since I had started taking medication my life had changed a lot. There have been rough spots in those last three years, a few times when I thought I might go back on the pills - but without health insurance, it was just cheaper to find natural ways to deal.

There were times I pushed through on my own when I likely should have asked for help. There were more times when I asked for help and got it, or didn't ask - but was given it. And then there were the times I pushed through and found myself forever changed by the process.

I've recently come to the realisation that another one of those push-through times is upon me - there are some essential internal changes that need to take place as I prepare for the upcoming addition to our family. There are also some essential external changes afoot, Andrew and I have been working through our shit in our own way, and I think, I hope that this weekend represents an essential shift back towards our imperfect, perfect balance. I rest assured knowing that we really are pretty fucking awesome together and will naturally work towards our harmony. These marital blips challenge us and break us out of our inertia and every one we have survived has made us stronger as individuals and closer as a couple.

My personal overhaul is in the works. Though calling it that is misleading - things I have been working on for ages will finally be put into action. The past few weeks have found me in a fog of my own confused and conflicting thoughts. This next step will see me filing the less pressing, future goals away for tomorrow - and getting the ball rolling on a new exciting chapter of my life.

The greatest challenge in the near future is, of course, the arrival of our baby this fall. Before that bomb drops, though, I am hoping that all my experiments in frugality and budgeting will finally pay off and we can create a monthly plan that will require little maintenance. This will free up a bundle of my mental and creative energy to do things I actually enjoy, like sewing, cooking and co-parenting.

That last bit is another thing I am working on. I have begun to see myself as Queen Shit around here. I have my finger in everything and actual control of nothing, save the volume of my own screeching voice. I am coming to realise that, perhaps, my standards are too high for any of us to maintain - we have all been guilty of dropping the ball on things around here recently. Just speaking for myself, I have used my pregnancy to full effect to excuse myself from everything from cooking dinner to picking anything up off the floor. I know that I am "allowed" to take it easy right now - but I am also pretty in tune with my body and know what it is capable of. It is capable of doing more. But not as much as it could do a few months ago, my back pain and pelvic aches and today's grocery store arrival of BH contractions all tell me how much is too much.

Now, instead of seeing each ache or cramp as an excuse to stop everything and slump back into my comfy chair to play with my laptop. And then quietly get pissy because "nothing gets done". I will be a little easier on myself and a little clearer about specific duties I would like to outsource to one of the boys. And then... be perfectly content, even if the job was not done exactly as I would have done it. Boy, that is such a toughie. I think, though, the key is to have solid base standards and then accept that how we get to the point where there is no dirt on the dishes, or in the toilet, or toys on the floor is not as important as the fact that the job is done.

Deep breath.

I can not believe it is quite as late as it is - nor can I believe I have been listening to Adult Light Favourites this whole time.

what I love and all the work it takes

My house is clean, really, really clean. My husband is brushing my clean son's teeth before bed, all the toys are put away, the dishes are clean, dinner has been eaten and leftovers packed up for lunch tomorrow, my tea is steaming beside me. Later, when I climb into bed I will be so happy it is made.

A couple of books later...

I love my husband and the fact that he puts our son to sleep most nights - a tradition we developed early-on - I love that even though I have a sewing project I want to be working on (and will work on as soon as this is finished) I have nothing else I am neglecting to write this entry. I love that we had a great morning out at the family centre where I was allowed a blissful 45 minutes - hour of peace (with coffee and cake!) while someone else kept an eye on my son. I was not too sad when a tantrum right before story-time meant we had to leave early, I enjoyed my walk home and a having a little more time than usual to prepare lunch (I fully admit I let him watch an episode of Dora while I made lunch - I don't regret it). I love that I got to sit and enjoy a lunch with my son while we talked about his morning (kids, toys, trucks, trains) and that he listened and understood when I asked him not to play with his drink. I love that Sebastian is napping again. I love that when awake, he can play autonomously but also that he loves spending time with me so much.

I love my achy body and the knowledge that it aches because it works so hard, because I spent my day cleaning and cooking and playing. I love that nearly six months pregnant, my body can still lift my son, that it can still walk nearly everywhere (a little slower), that it can still cook and clean and enjoy the brief peace of a clean and quiet house. I love that later, when the sun is setting, I will be treated to at the very least a hug and more likely a back rub. I love that the man giving me those things is the man I love so much and who loves me so much he will run to the store late at night for ice cream or cookie dough.

I am writing this down because of the many times I forget that which I love, or worse resent it. I forget why I work so hard and how much of the payoff is mine alone.

you came in with the breeze

Taken out our front window earlier this morning - you can't really tell, but the rain is beating down here.

As the torrential rains of this morning let up, revealing a fresh-smelling Sunday morning, I wave to my husband and son who are off to the Kerrisdale Play Palace and enjoy the quiet music coming out of my computer and a mostly-warm first cup of coffee.

My family will return to the smells of lunch cooking and a clean home, but before I dig in I will enjoy this bit of peace a little while longer. I have been really spoiled this weekend, yesterday morning they left me alone for nearly two whole hours and then I also got to go shopping kidless. Today they will be gone for about as much time, during which I will wash the few dishes from breakfast and last night's late-night red pepper roasting (it went well), I will then clean up Sebastian's room, putting away the toys Andrew brought in from outside and cleaned (how do so many toys make it out the door each week??), skipping much of the usual toy rotation because after our week away Boo seems to see his toys with more than the usual excitement. Later I will make the bed, tidy up and return to my clean kitchen to simultaneously make lunch (scrambled eggs) and dinner (pre-baking the pie crust for quiche and mixing the filling) - I realise we are having eggs twice today, but lunch was Andrew's request and I will happily indulge him. Before the fellas get home I might even be able to squeeze in a quick shower!

Things have been really awesome lately, the rottenness of the last month or so finally behind us. Andrew and I are getting along so much better and we are both relating better to our toddler son.

I have a bajillion updates to do, pictures from our trip to post and thoughts to share - but for now, the clock ticks and I must get on with it.

spring ahead, fall back

I have made several big changes to my blogs over the years - last year I made the small leap to a new blog that continued to use Livejournal... I love LJ and the community feel of it - but, I think I have outgrown it somehow. I can't put my finger on anything specific, but it has been dogging me for a while now and I have known in my heart of hearts it was time to start fresh.

If you are a new reader and would like to gaze at the last few years of my life you can check out idyllia_is (my most recent home on the web) and theantibarbie (my first experiments in online journaling).

This journal will be a place to write and share and work through the changes I see coming and those just over the horizon. Spring 2007, like many before, promises to bring many scary and wonderful changes, I hope to face them all head-on and with dignity - but that will remain to be seen. I hope my friends enjoy this insight into my inner workings and I really hope none of you think much less of me for it.

K