I am pretty psyched to see the end of 2008. It has been a thrilling, incredible year, but there is so much that I would like to put a bit of time ahead of. A chance to get some perspective.
A long-standing project of mine has been to go through our old photographs, delete the crap and then back it all up. I finally made the decision to just get it done last weekend and today I finished. It was fun, especially stumbling on old videos of Sebastian. It was also a lot of work - I can see the upside of going through your photos as soon as you take them off the camera.
The very hardest part, however, was seeing how happy we all looked - even as the wheels started to come off our little family wagon. I am heartened by how resolutely we have stood together. I have renewed faith in myself and in all the choices I have made. It was hard because I don't really remember much of it. A lot of that is because I've been pretty withdrawn. Thankfully, I can change that with some work. Always with the work... heh.
It is pretty late, but I've finally managed to upload a bunch of pictures to flickr:
Showing posts with label foto. Show all posts
Showing posts with label foto. Show all posts
Sunday, November 23
Wednesday, May 21
hump day
Recently, I told somebody close to me to "grow up." They'd been behaving in a way that I thought was pretty assy and after brewing a bit of resentment, I confronted them lovingly. Things since then have improved, with this person making a concentrated effort to be more responsible and accountable. I appreciate the effort even more than I show, so how come I don't feel any better??
Could it be possible I've been projecting a weensy bit? My sense is that yes, I have been. Turns out my disappointment is actually with myself. Big sigh. This sucks.
There is so much I am slacking on (huge) and instead of doing something about it, I am trying in tiny ways to run away. My version of running away involves whining, retreating and acting very selfishly. In other words, I run back to being a child. That technique was all fine and good when I was younger and could bask in the misery that is a week in bed feeling sorry for myself, but now it just doesn't jive with my role as mother bear. It has been frustrating, but in the end I suspect it is a good thing.
Time for pulling up the old bootstraps (once I find them) and get some of the things causing me the greatest amount of anxiety and guilt taken care of. I started by dumping my ever-growing to-do box (yes, it had grown to such proportions that it took up 1/2 a banker's box) and making some piles and lists. I filed some things, chucked some things (like fliers for rallies that I missed back in March and April) and even made a call to find out that the reason we don't get any of those sweet government benefits for Rigby is because to them, she doesn't exist. Oops. The instructions for getting her information to them are complex, but not overly so. With luck, next month we'll get a fat cheque (which we will very responsibly use to finally pay off a credit card).
That last bit is what really gets me, in the past few months, we have received and then spent, enough money to pay off most of our credit card debt. How's that for irresponsible?
(see? food!)
Could it be possible I've been projecting a weensy bit? My sense is that yes, I have been. Turns out my disappointment is actually with myself. Big sigh. This sucks.
There is so much I am slacking on (huge) and instead of doing something about it, I am trying in tiny ways to run away. My version of running away involves whining, retreating and acting very selfishly. In other words, I run back to being a child. That technique was all fine and good when I was younger and could bask in the misery that is a week in bed feeling sorry for myself, but now it just doesn't jive with my role as mother bear. It has been frustrating, but in the end I suspect it is a good thing.
Time for pulling up the old bootstraps (once I find them) and get some of the things causing me the greatest amount of anxiety and guilt taken care of. I started by dumping my ever-growing to-do box (yes, it had grown to such proportions that it took up 1/2 a banker's box) and making some piles and lists. I filed some things, chucked some things (like fliers for rallies that I missed back in March and April) and even made a call to find out that the reason we don't get any of those sweet government benefits for Rigby is because to them, she doesn't exist. Oops. The instructions for getting her information to them are complex, but not overly so. With luck, next month we'll get a fat cheque (which we will very responsibly use to finally pay off a credit card).
That last bit is what really gets me, in the past few months, we have received and then spent, enough money to pay off most of our credit card debt. How's that for irresponsible?(see? food!)
pictures of the family
Celebrating the Annibirtary* long-weekend:
I feel pretty lucky to be married to this guy. He's funny, sweet, loving, competent and incredibly good-looking.
Happy Anniversary, Baby!!
*
** yes, we did use paper plates. From IKEA, even. They were left-over from Sebastian's party and didn't leave me with much guilt, the rest of the party was pretty "green" and I did not buy any *new* disposable goods.
Rigby, excited over a paper plate**. You will note she now sits w/out help, she also has a teeny tooth AND is more adorable than a basket of puppies in her wee smocked dress (a gift from afar).
Sebastian, whose bright smile masks a most mischievous mind. He had a ball stealing the spotlight from the guests of honour. He was really sweet and polite on this long and warm afternoon.
Me, my awesome new hair and glasses (and top). My tits are *huge*, when did that happen? Once I'm finished breastfeeding, there will be a kick-ass tattoo on my left arm.
I feel pretty lucky to be married to this guy. He's funny, sweet, loving, competent and incredibly good-looking.
Happy Anniversary, Baby!!
*
** yes, we did use paper plates. From IKEA, even. They were left-over from Sebastian's party and didn't leave me with much guilt, the rest of the party was pretty "green" and I did not buy any *new* disposable goods.
Wednesday, March 26
leaving little doubt
If anyone still doubts that I have a parenting book problem, I present my current collection of library books.
non-parenting books:
parenting books:
Supernanny is going back. It sounds good on paper and we even tried a few of her "tricks", but there are much better books (my current favourite being the one directly above Supernanny). I am attending a parenting class through my therapy group and some of these were recommended, others caught my eye or deal with things I'm dealing with (baby sign, eating woes, baby play) and one is there just for Andrew (Dads & Daughters).
As for the other books, I got two on housekeeping and the classic How to Win Friends and Influence People - it is a book I've always been curious about, when Sebastian picked it off the shelf I took it as a sign that it is time.
Sebastian got a heap of sick-day DVDs - though he's taken a turn for the healthier (unlike his poor mother who feels like there's a cactus stuck in her throat) - I think he'll watch some of them anyways this afternoon, give me a chance to make a nice dinner (meant to do slow-cooker chili this morning, but now will just make it on the stove) and start reading.
Tonight I'm gathering with some other women to watch America's Next Top Model at my friend Corey's pad. I am looking forward to the pop-culture injection, since lately I've been holed up in the 90's watching Buffy and listening to the music of my youth. I am also looking forward to showing off my new haircut. I'm looking far less dowdy, if I do say so myself.
non-parenting books:
parenting books:
Supernanny is going back. It sounds good on paper and we even tried a few of her "tricks", but there are much better books (my current favourite being the one directly above Supernanny). I am attending a parenting class through my therapy group and some of these were recommended, others caught my eye or deal with things I'm dealing with (baby sign, eating woes, baby play) and one is there just for Andrew (Dads & Daughters).
As for the other books, I got two on housekeeping and the classic How to Win Friends and Influence People - it is a book I've always been curious about, when Sebastian picked it off the shelf I took it as a sign that it is time.
Sebastian got a heap of sick-day DVDs - though he's taken a turn for the healthier (unlike his poor mother who feels like there's a cactus stuck in her throat) - I think he'll watch some of them anyways this afternoon, give me a chance to make a nice dinner (meant to do slow-cooker chili this morning, but now will just make it on the stove) and start reading.
Tonight I'm gathering with some other women to watch America's Next Top Model at my friend Corey's pad. I am looking forward to the pop-culture injection, since lately I've been holed up in the 90's watching Buffy and listening to the music of my youth. I am also looking forward to showing off my new haircut. I'm looking far less dowdy, if I do say so myself.
Wednesday, December 26
what made this year different
It is barely a secret that I am a holiday hater. Before having kids, Andrew and I already decided not to try on New Year's, given that it usually ended in disappointment and tears. We gave it another shot and hosted a party our first year in Vancouver, but it was a mess of burnt fondue, screaming babies and trivial pursuit (which is a game that you should only ever play with people you already hate).
With all the other stuff going on here, I had cynically hoped to similarly turn Christmas into a non-event. This stance was the basis for a series of long, loud, deep and eventually enlightening debates between my husband and I. It came to be that we agreed that this should be a holiday filled with love, family and cheer. We also agreed that most of the typical Christmas crapification could be left in the hands of other people (before you worry, oh friends and family, I am not referring to any of you - I am thinking about the people with loads of gaudy lights and inflatable Santas and piles off throw-away gifts laying under the tree). We could not quite get on the same page as far as rules on gifts for our kids from other people, but looking back, we had nothing to worry about.
As it happened, I didn't worry much about Christmas. I didn't want to spend a lot of time away from home and risk falling too far out of the new positive routines that are finally becoming natural, so I was a bit of an ass and insisted our visit to Vancouver Island be short (I was talked into staying overnight - and am really glad we did!). But once that was done, I didn't worry about it. Gifts were the same, the few I had to buy on behalf of others were well thought-out and my shopping trip was short and not too costly. Stocking stuffers came from a swap I did among a group of mothers for our kids, plus a few I purchased (bath bombs, a mini rolling pin, a harmonica, a tiny kaleidoscope and a colouring book), and a couple things from the grandparents and Sebastian's aunt and uncle.
We'd told people we didn't need anything, nor did we expect anything, but that if they wanted there were a few things we would appreciate. My list was nearly all books, so I now have four books I am eager to devour. Andrew got a t-shirt that lights up near wireless networks and some much-appreciated movies. We will likely refer to this as the year of Thomas as time goes on - Sebastian made out well and got a whole bunch of Thomas the Tank toys. But, he didn't get heaps and heaps of stuff - he got enough to justify a good toy-cull, but all of it is stuff he will play with and stuff that requires using his imagination, including a pooping pig - a stocking gift from his Aunt that he LOVES, and I will sheepishly admit I love it too! It is hilarious, it poops jelly beans (which were confiscated before he got a chance to figure out they were made of sugar) and you fill it through it's flip-down head. Rigby got a lot of clothes and a few toys, a pretty typical first Christmas haul.
Family and friends respecting our limits, plus a little alcohol, helped the holidays go smoothly, but the chief thing that made these holidays not just bearable, but my best so far as an adult, was effort and willingness on the part of myself and my family to let things just be what they were. And they were.
Wednesday, December 5
what we're up to
As everyone knows, Christmas is coming - and soon. This will not be the year I get Christmas cards sent - hell, I haven't even registered my daughter's birth yet. Nor will it be the year I craft all my gifts by hand - though if I can crack off a couple for dear friends and family I will be very happy. Luckily I make a mean cookie - so if nothing else, my group of family and family-esque people can count on getting fed.
Here's the awesome bit, none of this bothers me much. Oh it bothers me a wee bit, I wish we were the family who had holiday cards sent out early and a great stash of gifts that had been made over the year. But it isn't killing me... and, while someday I will likely tire of the numbness the medication provides, this vacation from constantly running through my mental list of successes and failures (past, present and future) is exquisite. It is almost as lovely as sipping margaritas on some tropical beach.
Today we met* some friends at a great little coffee shop for some brunch and coffees**. It was fun - a lot of fun. I wonder if I talked too much about myself - and I definitely didn't anticipate how HOT I would be wearing two layers and a baby - but I felt like *myself* again. Yesterday was the same story, we went to a big holiday party hosted by the family centre we attend, and I ran into a lot of people who'd become familiar faces over the past months and was able to just talk to them. I didn't try and run off, I wasn't so focused on my internal dialogue I couldn't follow the conversation and I even handled an uncomfortable situation with something in the same neighbourhood as grace.
enjoying his soy bambinoccino:
so much cute:
me and ms. giggly-pants:
following the trail back to home***:
My relationships inside the house are improving as well, Sebastian feeds off my anxiety and so with me being much less anxious, he is too. Plus, I am not so fatalistic about how every interaction will affect him later in life - which is making life a whole lot easier to handle. He is sleeping better - Andrew and I have been doing a modified Ferber on him and it seems to be working... he still yells and screams, but we've been keeping cool and so, if nothing else, we feel better. And he is just so much fun to be around since we've stopped trying to turn every interaction into some kind of life lesson (something I don't think we'd even realised we were doing until recently - and really, how dull must that be for poor Sebastian?).
I am even finding a mess/clean balance I am able to live with. It isn't perfect - I am currently avoiding the bedroom because if I go in there I will spend the day cleaning it, but it is working for me. And I am starting to think about giving myself a to-do list and see how things go.
*in both senses of the word - we met up with some mama-friends we knew and some new ones
**I had too much of both, downing two lattes and splitting an incredible banana and chocolate bread pudding and a deliciously moist ricotta, apple) and almond muffin
***the petals lead to a flower shop and were such a beautiful surprise
Here's the awesome bit, none of this bothers me much. Oh it bothers me a wee bit, I wish we were the family who had holiday cards sent out early and a great stash of gifts that had been made over the year. But it isn't killing me... and, while someday I will likely tire of the numbness the medication provides, this vacation from constantly running through my mental list of successes and failures (past, present and future) is exquisite. It is almost as lovely as sipping margaritas on some tropical beach.
Today we met* some friends at a great little coffee shop for some brunch and coffees**. It was fun - a lot of fun. I wonder if I talked too much about myself - and I definitely didn't anticipate how HOT I would be wearing two layers and a baby - but I felt like *myself* again. Yesterday was the same story, we went to a big holiday party hosted by the family centre we attend, and I ran into a lot of people who'd become familiar faces over the past months and was able to just talk to them. I didn't try and run off, I wasn't so focused on my internal dialogue I couldn't follow the conversation and I even handled an uncomfortable situation with something in the same neighbourhood as grace.
enjoying his soy bambinoccino:
so much cute:
me and ms. giggly-pants:
following the trail back to home***:
My relationships inside the house are improving as well, Sebastian feeds off my anxiety and so with me being much less anxious, he is too. Plus, I am not so fatalistic about how every interaction will affect him later in life - which is making life a whole lot easier to handle. He is sleeping better - Andrew and I have been doing a modified Ferber on him and it seems to be working... he still yells and screams, but we've been keeping cool and so, if nothing else, we feel better. And he is just so much fun to be around since we've stopped trying to turn every interaction into some kind of life lesson (something I don't think we'd even realised we were doing until recently - and really, how dull must that be for poor Sebastian?).
I am even finding a mess/clean balance I am able to live with. It isn't perfect - I am currently avoiding the bedroom because if I go in there I will spend the day cleaning it, but it is working for me. And I am starting to think about giving myself a to-do list and see how things go.
*in both senses of the word - we met up with some mama-friends we knew and some new ones
**I had too much of both, downing two lattes and splitting an incredible banana and chocolate bread pudding and a deliciously moist ricotta, apple) and almond muffin
***the petals lead to a flower shop and were such a beautiful surprise
Thursday, November 29
kids in glasses
Thursday, October 4
a bit about us
We've been busy - fall snuck up on us unexpectedly and here we are, two weeks away from my due date, scrambling to get everything done (I am still holding out hope that I will get a quilt done - how deluded am I??).
Things with Sebastian have gotten better, then worse, and now better again. I flip-flop between thinking he is a perfectly normal two-year-old - to thinking that there must be something wrong with him because he can be a bully and doesn't listen (etc.), then I remember that whatever is going on is perfectly normal for him and I need to manage myself and my reactions instead of expecting him to be anything but totally naturally HIM.
I have been much calmer the last few days and it is paying off - our nap time battles have continued, but he has napped three of the past four days. Today I tried something from left-field, we tried guided imagery. I asked him to imagine he was a fish, swimming through the water and blowing bubbles (deep, long breaths) - I did this while gently holding him and rocking, keeping myself very relaxed and calm. It took a little time, but he eventually calmed right down and went to sleep in his "cave" under the blankets. He went to sleep smiling - something he hasn't done in ages - and I felt so relaxed afterwards. I really, really, really hope this works again tomorrow!
In other Boo news, he has a wandering eye (strabismus), it came on slowly and we just assumed he would grow out of it, but lately it has become much worse and he barely seems to use his right eye anymore, allowing it to rest, peacefully, at his nose instead... I haven't talked about it because I have been having a hard time adjusting to it. It sounds so lame, I know, but he's my perfect child and it took some time for me to come to terms with. Typing that, and knowing the difficulties other kids have, I sound like an effing idiot. The good news is we have an appointment with a pediatric ophthalmologist November 20, and there's a good chance his eye will correct without surgery, and some of his issues with over-stimulation and frustration may be connected and therefore also be "fixed"... but there is also a chance he'll need surgery, and that things may get worse before they get better, and that it may never be completely fixed.
Oh what else?? We've started using cloth diapers again and are using our Wonder Wash and spin dryer to clean them. It has been a bit of a learning curve, and we let laundry get ahead of us last week - something we will NOT be allowing to happen again (that was a bad, bad day). Sebastian has adjusted well to the cloth - better than we'd hoped, though I still think the change will bring him back to a point where he is willing to re-visit the potty (things got hairy and we quit trying to train, decided he just wasn't ready).
I am preparing for my home birth, but just found out I am group B strep positive... not a huge deal, my midwife can administer antibiotics at home, if I opt for them BUT if I do opt for them I will have to get my first shop in hospital, in case of a bad reaction. This is only an issue because it would mean a) leaving my home in labour and b) driving across town (two towns, actually) to the hospital I am registered at (there are closer ones in case of an emergency). We have childcare lined up as well as a friend to act as support for Andrew and I. Tonight or tomorrow I will pick up my home-birth kit and we will officially have everything we "need" to get this party started (though I am not averse to waiting a little longer... remember the quilt).
Enough babble. On to the HO (click to zoom):
note the entirely inappropriate button (from mehoi.com) holding my sweater together.
carefully picking every chocolate chip out of the otherwise almost healthy oatmeal cookie
this photo is my entry for mother of the year - he is actually eating those noodles off the floor - in my defense I had only requested he pick them up - I said nothing about eating them
playing with the colour accent feature on my camera while S played at the playground
Things with Sebastian have gotten better, then worse, and now better again. I flip-flop between thinking he is a perfectly normal two-year-old - to thinking that there must be something wrong with him because he can be a bully and doesn't listen (etc.), then I remember that whatever is going on is perfectly normal for him and I need to manage myself and my reactions instead of expecting him to be anything but totally naturally HIM.
I have been much calmer the last few days and it is paying off - our nap time battles have continued, but he has napped three of the past four days. Today I tried something from left-field, we tried guided imagery. I asked him to imagine he was a fish, swimming through the water and blowing bubbles (deep, long breaths) - I did this while gently holding him and rocking, keeping myself very relaxed and calm. It took a little time, but he eventually calmed right down and went to sleep in his "cave" under the blankets. He went to sleep smiling - something he hasn't done in ages - and I felt so relaxed afterwards. I really, really, really hope this works again tomorrow!
In other Boo news, he has a wandering eye (strabismus), it came on slowly and we just assumed he would grow out of it, but lately it has become much worse and he barely seems to use his right eye anymore, allowing it to rest, peacefully, at his nose instead... I haven't talked about it because I have been having a hard time adjusting to it. It sounds so lame, I know, but he's my perfect child and it took some time for me to come to terms with. Typing that, and knowing the difficulties other kids have, I sound like an effing idiot. The good news is we have an appointment with a pediatric ophthalmologist November 20, and there's a good chance his eye will correct without surgery, and some of his issues with over-stimulation and frustration may be connected and therefore also be "fixed"... but there is also a chance he'll need surgery, and that things may get worse before they get better, and that it may never be completely fixed.
Oh what else?? We've started using cloth diapers again and are using our Wonder Wash and spin dryer to clean them. It has been a bit of a learning curve, and we let laundry get ahead of us last week - something we will NOT be allowing to happen again (that was a bad, bad day). Sebastian has adjusted well to the cloth - better than we'd hoped, though I still think the change will bring him back to a point where he is willing to re-visit the potty (things got hairy and we quit trying to train, decided he just wasn't ready).
I am preparing for my home birth, but just found out I am group B strep positive... not a huge deal, my midwife can administer antibiotics at home, if I opt for them BUT if I do opt for them I will have to get my first shop in hospital, in case of a bad reaction. This is only an issue because it would mean a) leaving my home in labour and b) driving across town (two towns, actually) to the hospital I am registered at (there are closer ones in case of an emergency). We have childcare lined up as well as a friend to act as support for Andrew and I. Tonight or tomorrow I will pick up my home-birth kit and we will officially have everything we "need" to get this party started (though I am not averse to waiting a little longer... remember the quilt).
Enough babble. On to the HO (click to zoom):
note the entirely inappropriate button (from mehoi.com) holding my sweater together.
carefully picking every chocolate chip out of the otherwise almost healthy oatmeal cookie
this photo is my entry for mother of the year - he is actually eating those noodles off the floor - in my defense I had only requested he pick them up - I said nothing about eating them
playing with the colour accent feature on my camera while S played at the playground
Wednesday, September 26
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).
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).
the new old-fashioned way
A little while ago I mentioned that we would be home-washing and hang-drying our new cloth diapers. On Saturday, the second half of the diapering equation arrived - a Wonder Wash and Mini Countertop Spin Dryer from The Laundry Alternative Inc. we've been washing a load of laundry a day for the last two days - we haven't started the cloth diapers yet we want to get a good feel for the system before we add extra work.
So far things are great - two days and I am already feeling a groove. Morning is the best time to do it, meaning, eventually, getting up a smidge earlier to get it all done before our morning activities. Doing the previous day's laundry, two loads sorted by colour, take about an hour from sort and pre-treat to laundry on the line. Everything so far has been dry by the next morning - including jeans - and that is hanging in our hallway, not outside (we live on the west coast and the rainy season is upon us). Following the directions, I used about 20 gallons of water per day, including the rinse and six tablespoons of detergent. I also used about a 1/2 cup of vinegar in each rinse. The spin dryer runs three times for a full wash load - for up to five minutes for jeans and as little as one minute for a light load (soccer shorts, some undies and my fancy new top).
I will update when we start doing diapers too!
Note who is doing all the work and who is having fun... actually I was having fun too.
See?
Our dirty laundry
My right arm is going to be so buff.
Okay, Andrew, enough pictures already
Our retractable drying line.
Hanging to dry (note Sebastian's awesome new tee)
Sebastian refers to this as the car wash
Having our laundry hanging in the hallway certainly makes us want to take it down as soon as it is dry, but it is also out of the way enough to not be intrusive, and when there's nothing on the line it blends right into the background.
So far things are great - two days and I am already feeling a groove. Morning is the best time to do it, meaning, eventually, getting up a smidge earlier to get it all done before our morning activities. Doing the previous day's laundry, two loads sorted by colour, take about an hour from sort and pre-treat to laundry on the line. Everything so far has been dry by the next morning - including jeans - and that is hanging in our hallway, not outside (we live on the west coast and the rainy season is upon us). Following the directions, I used about 20 gallons of water per day, including the rinse and six tablespoons of detergent. I also used about a 1/2 cup of vinegar in each rinse. The spin dryer runs three times for a full wash load - for up to five minutes for jeans and as little as one minute for a light load (soccer shorts, some undies and my fancy new top).
I will update when we start doing diapers too!
Note who is doing all the work and who is having fun... actually I was having fun too.
See?
Our dirty laundry
My right arm is going to be so buff.
Okay, Andrew, enough pictures already
Our retractable drying line.
Hanging to dry (note Sebastian's awesome new tee)
Sebastian refers to this as the car wash
Having our laundry hanging in the hallway certainly makes us want to take it down as soon as it is dry, but it is also out of the way enough to not be intrusive, and when there's nothing on the line it blends right into the background.
Friday, September 14
our day in pictures
Start here - after a pancake breakfast with Uncle Julian, we geared up and headed out.
Following a coffee break where we met Karen, owner of New & Green, and picked up our new diaper stash (a baby gift from Andrew's parents), we went to the same park where a lifetime ago Andrew and I were married.
Can you believe it is already fall???
Trying out the macro on my new camera.
I rarely see these anymore - this one is across town from where we live - too bad, because Sebastian adored it.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Sebastian did not stop moving once until we were back in the car and he had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his hand.
Here he is making eyes at one of the other park mamas.
Nearing home, listening to the Beatles Love album (All You Need Is Love was the track) with an increasingly tired and crabby child in the back seat, and having just driven past the spot where only two days prior I had side-swiped a truck (I'm not quite ready to talk about that yet), it was nice to look up and see my silly, smiling family.
After we got home Sebastian put up a mighty fight before settling down for a nap. So once he was asleep I decided to ignore the dishes and fawn over my lovely new diapers.
We decided to get unbleached Indian pre-folds, not only are they inexpensive and versatile, they dry more quickly than many fitted diapers and since we plan on home-laundering and line-drying (more on that later) that is a big plus!
You might also notice a nice stash of Bummies Super Whisper Wraps - we only splurged on four over the entire course of diapering Sebastian (2 small, 2 medium) and they were awesome - I was beyond thrilled to be able to get a complete supply this time around (6 small, 6 medium). We also got some Snappis to try out (though we used no fasteners when we used pre-folds in the past), a dozen recycled flannel wipes, a dozen micro fleece liners, a small waterproof tote and locally-made wipes solution concentrate.
Diaper mountain.
Wipes in detail (these make me lust for a Serger of my very own).
And Karen's business card - if you are in the market for cloth diapers, I highly recommend New & Green. Not only is it local, but I've been amazed by the level of customer service I've witnessed in the short time I have been in touch with Karen. She really loves cloth diapering and wants people to love it too. During our coffee meeting she picked up a tester kit from one mother and gave a lesson on cloth diapering to a woman due with her first around the same time as I am. Once she finds a suitable space she will be running cloth diapering workshops - all this while mothering her very sweet nine-month-old daughter.
Andrew got home right at the end of my diaper photo-shoot and Sebastian woke from his nap just in time for pizza from a chain. I can not believe what we endured to order those damned things *or* that it cost as much as a good sushi dinner would have. But for some reason Andrew and I were both desperately craving stuffed crust (it was not nearly as good as I remember). In fact, none of it was very good and next time we'll stick with one of the much better local shops- or get sushi.
Andrew laying out the greasy "spread" while Sebastian drinks plastic broccoli from a cup.
After pizza we all crawled into the big bed and watched Fantastic 4.
Following a coffee break where we met Karen, owner of New & Green, and picked up our new diaper stash (a baby gift from Andrew's parents), we went to the same park where a lifetime ago Andrew and I were married.
Can you believe it is already fall???
Trying out the macro on my new camera.
I rarely see these anymore - this one is across town from where we live - too bad, because Sebastian adored it.
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Sebastian did not stop moving once until we were back in the car and he had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his hand.
Here he is making eyes at one of the other park mamas.
Nearing home, listening to the Beatles Love album (All You Need Is Love was the track) with an increasingly tired and crabby child in the back seat, and having just driven past the spot where only two days prior I had side-swiped a truck (I'm not quite ready to talk about that yet), it was nice to look up and see my silly, smiling family.
After we got home Sebastian put up a mighty fight before settling down for a nap. So once he was asleep I decided to ignore the dishes and fawn over my lovely new diapers.
We decided to get unbleached Indian pre-folds, not only are they inexpensive and versatile, they dry more quickly than many fitted diapers and since we plan on home-laundering and line-drying (more on that later) that is a big plus!
You might also notice a nice stash of Bummies Super Whisper Wraps - we only splurged on four over the entire course of diapering Sebastian (2 small, 2 medium) and they were awesome - I was beyond thrilled to be able to get a complete supply this time around (6 small, 6 medium). We also got some Snappis to try out (though we used no fasteners when we used pre-folds in the past), a dozen recycled flannel wipes, a dozen micro fleece liners, a small waterproof tote and locally-made wipes solution concentrate.
Diaper mountain.
Wipes in detail (these make me lust for a Serger of my very own).
And Karen's business card - if you are in the market for cloth diapers, I highly recommend New & Green. Not only is it local, but I've been amazed by the level of customer service I've witnessed in the short time I have been in touch with Karen. She really loves cloth diapering and wants people to love it too. During our coffee meeting she picked up a tester kit from one mother and gave a lesson on cloth diapering to a woman due with her first around the same time as I am. Once she finds a suitable space she will be running cloth diapering workshops - all this while mothering her very sweet nine-month-old daughter.
Andrew got home right at the end of my diaper photo-shoot and Sebastian woke from his nap just in time for pizza from a chain. I can not believe what we endured to order those damned things *or* that it cost as much as a good sushi dinner would have. But for some reason Andrew and I were both desperately craving stuffed crust (it was not nearly as good as I remember). In fact, none of it was very good and next time we'll stick with one of the much better local shops- or get sushi.
Andrew laying out the greasy "spread" while Sebastian drinks plastic broccoli from a cup.
After pizza we all crawled into the big bed and watched Fantastic 4.
Tuesday, September 11
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:
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!!
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!!
Sunday, August 12
tiny moments
Andrew and I shared a moment this morning, an awful moment where all the laughter and joy left the room in a split second. Sebastian was gleefully walking along the couch towards Andrew, who was sitting in our big green chair. I was standing in the kitchen preparing breakfast. We were talking and laughing about something when suddenly, out of the corners of our eyes we simultaneously watched Sebastian bounce off the edge of the couch and into the corner of our antique chest coffee table. In that slow-motion moment it felt like we were in a vacuum, I can still now clearly see Sebastian's neck bend back at an impossible angle, Andrew's look of terror and surprise, those agonizing seconds before Sebastian started to scream.
In the moments that followed I held him while Andrew fetched ice for his rapidly swelling forehead, we switched spots to get a better view of the injury and I went and got the poor kid a bit of ice cream. As he calmly ate it I asked him a number of questions and checked his eyes, all the while staying cheerful and light. I could see the worry was killing poor Andrew, but he was great. We managed about 15 of the suggest 20 minutes of icing before Sebastian was up and playing. He is now quite proud of his bump - pointing it out to everyone he sees:
"hey man, check out my bump" (okay, I taught him to say that - but it is still really funny!).
The swelling is completely gone now, all that remains of those few awful seconds are a few scrapes and a bruise that will soon fade too. I am very proud of how both Andrew and I handled the situation - we shot each other those looks of anxious bewilderment ("holy shit - what do we do??"), but maintained our composure and sense of humour. The minute it was over and I knew that everything was alright I shook with relief and had to hold back tears, so I busied myself cooking Sunday breakfast.
In the moments that followed I held him while Andrew fetched ice for his rapidly swelling forehead, we switched spots to get a better view of the injury and I went and got the poor kid a bit of ice cream. As he calmly ate it I asked him a number of questions and checked his eyes, all the while staying cheerful and light. I could see the worry was killing poor Andrew, but he was great. We managed about 15 of the suggest 20 minutes of icing before Sebastian was up and playing. He is now quite proud of his bump - pointing it out to everyone he sees:
"hey man, check out my bump" (okay, I taught him to say that - but it is still really funny!).
The swelling is completely gone now, all that remains of those few awful seconds are a few scrapes and a bruise that will soon fade too. I am very proud of how both Andrew and I handled the situation - we shot each other those looks of anxious bewilderment ("holy shit - what do we do??"), but maintained our composure and sense of humour. The minute it was over and I knew that everything was alright I shook with relief and had to hold back tears, so I busied myself cooking Sunday breakfast.
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