I took a long, unintended sabbatical from writing and blogging.
Life, as it does, got much too far ahead of me. Funny, thing, though - as I think back, I have trouble remembering what went on that had me so busy.
Raising, playing with, making a home for and loving my kids has been the most time-consuming and draining-yet-gratifying thing I have been doing lately. Rigby, my smart and charming daughter, is now THREE and Sebastian, my clever and curious son, is FIVE (and a half!). No longer tiny and incoherent, my children are now incredibly engaging and self-sufficient.
I suppose the other thing that kept me busy was preparing to move from Vancouver, BC to London, England. Kind-of a big deal. The process was all kids of difficult and uncertain - Andrew (aka, my husband), had been working on the Vancouver 2010 Olympic games and was offered a short-term position here in London, in essence to see if he and his team would come over semi-permanently or be replaced by locals. The decision was not made until very late - so I spent a lot of time packing, unpacking, repacking, wondering, wishing, hoping and missing Andrew. We also moved to the basement suite of our rental house to save some money.
When we finally got here, our expectations were a wee bit overblown. Andrew had not been parenting for nearly six months and I had gotten into some unfortunate habits being alone with the kids (like screaming at the top of my lungs). So, we adults had/have some serious learning and re-learning to do. The kids were also so excited to move here, and the reality of living in a flat (no yard), in a new city (no friends), during the winter (no sun) has taken a toll. One month and a bit in, however, and some of our original excitement is returning.
We are incredibly lucky to know another home-learning family nearby and to have other wonderful adult friends a short walk away.
On the subject of home-learning, I am still on the fence a little - I have not sent either child to preschool and we have subscribed to to idea of unstructured, child-led learning. If you look at my children and their various interests and skills, this is obviously something that works for us. BUT - here's where I sit on the fence, school could be a great place to make friends AND would give me some child-free time.
We will see.
Showing posts with label rambling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rambling. Show all posts
Monday, December 13
Tuesday, May 19
it is what it is
I used to be so angry. I was like a bomb, ready to go off at any sign of life not fulfilling my innate sense of entitlement and when I went off - oh man, I can only imagine what it would have felt like to be on the other end.
That was 10 years ago, since then I have quieted my anger with compassion and perspective. I still get riled up over things, but now they tend to be the things a person should get angry about - world hunger, the systematic poisoning of our planet, green-washing - as opposed to the occasional tomato on my sandwich when I am 100% positive that I requested none.
My life is better. It is nicer, calmer, happier when I stop keeping score and make the sometimes difficult decision to drop the rope and let people worry about themselves. I still prefer to be right, but as my wise old man put it, the trick is to realise that being right doesn't make everyone else wrong.
This isn't how I grew up. My parents were angry for most of my childhood. They'll deny it, but I remember the tantrums, the snide remarks and most of all the feeling that there was no way I could ever be right enough or do well enough. I spent my twenties working through that and will likely spend a lot more time convincing myself that I am capable of more than I feel I am.
I went to the mall the other day to renew my license. I took the opportunity to window-shop, checking out trends in both fashion and marketing, because evil or not, it is a huge part of who I am. Something I also checked out, though somewhat involuntarily, were current trend in public parenting. Basically, I witnessed a whole lot of grown-ups treating a whole lot of kids like shit. I didn't witness any overt abuse, instead I saw parents treating their kids like disobeying puppies. Kicking them with words and looks and loud sighs. As I broadened my scope I saw people all over doing this to others, to partners, to staff, to strangers. And I went one step further and though of my own recent behaviour, came up with a few examples of my being cunty to my kids, to Drew and to the world at large - where did it stem from?
Believe it or not, I am not judging any of the parents I saw - I am a firm believer that it is rare that we can get the whole picture from witnessing an isolated interaction - I reserve judgment for myself. Do I generally treat people well and where could I stand to improve?
Generally, yes, I am a nice person. A little narcissistic and impatient, for sure, but I am a benefit-of-the-doubt type and a see-a-need-fill-a-need type. So where can I improve? It almost always comes down to compassion. Compassion for the person who makes an ignorant remark, compassion for the person shooting me an angry glare, and compassion for myself, a woman who is trying very hard to do right by her kids and who is mothering without a map.
With that compassion I can cut everyone else slack and truly let things go. This gives me the mind-space to look at what I am feeling that is manifesting itself as this bitchiness and what I can I change? Often, reflecting is hard. So hard that I have done as little of it as possible this past year. I do the easy stuff, like ensuring I get enough sleep, eat well, de-clutter, get a little exercise and drink my water - and then I stop. It has been a band-aid solution, but it worked while it worked.
And here I am today. Full of compassion and optimism like I haven't felt in ages. It will take some work and time to train my brain away from negative thinking, but I am ready for the challenge.
That was 10 years ago, since then I have quieted my anger with compassion and perspective. I still get riled up over things, but now they tend to be the things a person should get angry about - world hunger, the systematic poisoning of our planet, green-washing - as opposed to the occasional tomato on my sandwich when I am 100% positive that I requested none.
My life is better. It is nicer, calmer, happier when I stop keeping score and make the sometimes difficult decision to drop the rope and let people worry about themselves. I still prefer to be right, but as my wise old man put it, the trick is to realise that being right doesn't make everyone else wrong.
This isn't how I grew up. My parents were angry for most of my childhood. They'll deny it, but I remember the tantrums, the snide remarks and most of all the feeling that there was no way I could ever be right enough or do well enough. I spent my twenties working through that and will likely spend a lot more time convincing myself that I am capable of more than I feel I am.
I went to the mall the other day to renew my license. I took the opportunity to window-shop, checking out trends in both fashion and marketing, because evil or not, it is a huge part of who I am. Something I also checked out, though somewhat involuntarily, were current trend in public parenting. Basically, I witnessed a whole lot of grown-ups treating a whole lot of kids like shit. I didn't witness any overt abuse, instead I saw parents treating their kids like disobeying puppies. Kicking them with words and looks and loud sighs. As I broadened my scope I saw people all over doing this to others, to partners, to staff, to strangers. And I went one step further and though of my own recent behaviour, came up with a few examples of my being cunty to my kids, to Drew and to the world at large - where did it stem from?
Believe it or not, I am not judging any of the parents I saw - I am a firm believer that it is rare that we can get the whole picture from witnessing an isolated interaction - I reserve judgment for myself. Do I generally treat people well and where could I stand to improve?
Generally, yes, I am a nice person. A little narcissistic and impatient, for sure, but I am a benefit-of-the-doubt type and a see-a-need-fill-a-need type. So where can I improve? It almost always comes down to compassion. Compassion for the person who makes an ignorant remark, compassion for the person shooting me an angry glare, and compassion for myself, a woman who is trying very hard to do right by her kids and who is mothering without a map.
With that compassion I can cut everyone else slack and truly let things go. This gives me the mind-space to look at what I am feeling that is manifesting itself as this bitchiness and what I can I change? Often, reflecting is hard. So hard that I have done as little of it as possible this past year. I do the easy stuff, like ensuring I get enough sleep, eat well, de-clutter, get a little exercise and drink my water - and then I stop. It has been a band-aid solution, but it worked while it worked.
And here I am today. Full of compassion and optimism like I haven't felt in ages. It will take some work and time to train my brain away from negative thinking, but I am ready for the challenge.
Sunday, May 11
who has time for hope?
Trapped in the mundane, I ask myself how I can possibly hope for things to change dramatically enough. Today I attempted to explain to my three-year-old why polycarbonate bottles are bad. It did not go as well as I may have hoped, but I think that's okay.
It made me think, though, about being a parent. The awesome responsibility of it all - our necessary dedication to the well-being of these strange little people. And all the work that entails. I've been researching alternatives to public school (much to my mother's dismay - I do see her point, but wonder if a system so broken is worth getting behind). I know I have sometime, I also know that time behaves differently once you have kids. Over coffee the other evening, my friend Diane said of life with a family: "The days are long, but the years are short."
She's right. In the blink of an eye I went from young, carefree member of a young, carefree couple to one of a family of four, with a responsibility to three other humans. Striking some kind of balance when tending to the needs of four people is tough, I am making a go of it, though.
In four years I have learned so much about myself. I have truly amazed myself with my range of capabilities and I've discovered some surprising aptitudes. I am also beginning to see that the balance I seek may be an illusion. Not that balance is an illusion, but balance without sacrifice and compromise is. There are only so many hours in one day, only so many things any one of us can do.
But that's not all it is, is it? We repeat that mantra all the time, the one about there not being enough, but then we sit in front of our screens and zone out. We spend hours dreaming and dreading, we spend scarce minutes actually working. Well, some of us do. Others of us work and work and work in order to avoid thinking and dreaming (and dreading). And then even more of us swing between both patterns. Some people, rare people, just do. Yeah, weird, eh?
Actually, I want to be a doer. I do. I think I do. But it is so easy to write off the things I want to do and try as being too difficult, "especially given [my] current situation." i.e. Having two kids under the age of four. And I don't discount the idea that my days are very full of the mundane, leaving little time for other pursuits, especially if there's much planning needed. And sometimes I even appreciate having a pretty valid reason for being a flake, but then at times it becomes an excuse for me to get my lazy on.
Once it's an excuse the guilt starts pouring in. I pride myself on being a person who doesn't usually succumb to unnecessary guilt, but sometimes it is a good indicator. It tells me that maybe I'm not trying. At least, I think that's what it is trying to tell me. Recently it has taken to yelling at me and I have lost a bit of it's message.
I have lists (of course I do) and I am in that place where just consolidating my lists and getting a feel for where I am seems too daunting. I've made some headway, nibbled at a few edges, given myself enough peace to get a little sleep, but if I am to be completely honest with myself, I've been wandering around, doing a half-assed job of looking busy.
Part of me just wants to sleep, but I have been sleeping and I have not been feeling much better for it. I'm getting exercise, eating pretty well, taking my meds... and still... not feeling much better. I think I need an overhaul, but this time not of my stuff but of my back burner. Get it all out, sorted and re-filed. And scratching a few choice items off my list.
Today I did get some of the cleaning bits off my list. My friend Deanna came over and lent a hand - for which she was well-fed - it was a really lovely day filled with laughter and productivity. Most weekends I send Andrew and Sebastian off so I can clean up, after which I feel resentment because they had fun and I worked my ass off. Today I feel none of it - plus I have a clean car, food in the freezer, clean dishes, clean laundry, and delicious fruit crumble.
Tomorrow, I think I will send the boys off - let them have some fun (after washing diapers at the laundromat) while I do my little de-clutter. Not that I know where to start... I just know that there are bits of me that aren't being realised. There are things I know I could be doing more efficiently, and I KNOW we need to sort out some kind of routine. So perhaps we start there and see what happens.
Oh and hope - well, I just hope that the world holds itself together long enough for us to get a few details figured out. We've been talking more about places we might like to live that aren't the city. I like that talk, talk of a future that is bigger than we are now.
It made me think, though, about being a parent. The awesome responsibility of it all - our necessary dedication to the well-being of these strange little people. And all the work that entails. I've been researching alternatives to public school (much to my mother's dismay - I do see her point, but wonder if a system so broken is worth getting behind). I know I have sometime, I also know that time behaves differently once you have kids. Over coffee the other evening, my friend Diane said of life with a family: "The days are long, but the years are short."
She's right. In the blink of an eye I went from young, carefree member of a young, carefree couple to one of a family of four, with a responsibility to three other humans. Striking some kind of balance when tending to the needs of four people is tough, I am making a go of it, though.
In four years I have learned so much about myself. I have truly amazed myself with my range of capabilities and I've discovered some surprising aptitudes. I am also beginning to see that the balance I seek may be an illusion. Not that balance is an illusion, but balance without sacrifice and compromise is. There are only so many hours in one day, only so many things any one of us can do.
But that's not all it is, is it? We repeat that mantra all the time, the one about there not being enough, but then we sit in front of our screens and zone out. We spend hours dreaming and dreading, we spend scarce minutes actually working. Well, some of us do. Others of us work and work and work in order to avoid thinking and dreaming (and dreading). And then even more of us swing between both patterns. Some people, rare people, just do. Yeah, weird, eh?
Actually, I want to be a doer. I do. I think I do. But it is so easy to write off the things I want to do and try as being too difficult, "especially given [my] current situation." i.e. Having two kids under the age of four. And I don't discount the idea that my days are very full of the mundane, leaving little time for other pursuits, especially if there's much planning needed. And sometimes I even appreciate having a pretty valid reason for being a flake, but then at times it becomes an excuse for me to get my lazy on.
Once it's an excuse the guilt starts pouring in. I pride myself on being a person who doesn't usually succumb to unnecessary guilt, but sometimes it is a good indicator. It tells me that maybe I'm not trying. At least, I think that's what it is trying to tell me. Recently it has taken to yelling at me and I have lost a bit of it's message.
I have lists (of course I do) and I am in that place where just consolidating my lists and getting a feel for where I am seems too daunting. I've made some headway, nibbled at a few edges, given myself enough peace to get a little sleep, but if I am to be completely honest with myself, I've been wandering around, doing a half-assed job of looking busy.
Part of me just wants to sleep, but I have been sleeping and I have not been feeling much better for it. I'm getting exercise, eating pretty well, taking my meds... and still... not feeling much better. I think I need an overhaul, but this time not of my stuff but of my back burner. Get it all out, sorted and re-filed. And scratching a few choice items off my list.
Today I did get some of the cleaning bits off my list. My friend Deanna came over and lent a hand - for which she was well-fed - it was a really lovely day filled with laughter and productivity. Most weekends I send Andrew and Sebastian off so I can clean up, after which I feel resentment because they had fun and I worked my ass off. Today I feel none of it - plus I have a clean car, food in the freezer, clean dishes, clean laundry, and delicious fruit crumble.
Tomorrow, I think I will send the boys off - let them have some fun (after washing diapers at the laundromat) while I do my little de-clutter. Not that I know where to start... I just know that there are bits of me that aren't being realised. There are things I know I could be doing more efficiently, and I KNOW we need to sort out some kind of routine. So perhaps we start there and see what happens.
Oh and hope - well, I just hope that the world holds itself together long enough for us to get a few details figured out. We've been talking more about places we might like to live that aren't the city. I like that talk, talk of a future that is bigger than we are now.
Sunday, March 9
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, 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
Wednesday, November 14
what do you mean it isn't friday???**
I am beat.
Seriously, in what kind of cruel world do I get slammed with a cold so soon after bringing new life into this world? I only hope that my diet of coffee and cookie dough will be sufficient to slay this beast, and soon.
I know I've been whining a lot - I have actually been avoiding posting on here for fear of sounding whiny, negative, ungrateful or depressed and annoying or worrying my friends and family who don't see me every day. Not that the people who do see me every day are any less worried - I admit I am a bit of a sight with my unkempt hair (dudes, it is fall in Vancouver and I have frizzy hair and *no time* for styling, this mop-like-thing on my head is just what happens, trust me I don't like it any more than you do. At least it proves I am showering!!), my dirty, ratty, mismatched clothes (Rigby is a master-spitter, this afternoon, in fact, after my shower, I decided to go naked for a while - to save creating more laundry) my under-eye bags (nope, not sleeping - quel shock, non?) and my gnarly cold symptoms that include a nasty cold sore, runny nose, strange voice and lack of patience (I am not good at being sick, which is why I generally avoid it). And I complain, a lot... it is a wonder no one has staged an intervention (yet) - but rest assured, I am pretty certain I am not falling into the depths of postpartum depression and am, instead, reacting pretty typically to the stresses in my life.
I wrote a little bit ago about wanting to find things to work on - the first has been to get organised again. There was a brief point in time, most of 2006 and a little bit of 2007, where I was almost meticulously organised, at least on paper, and if imperfect, the system did ensure I payed my bills mostly on time and that Sebastian and I had a pretty regular schedule that worked well for us. Then it fell apart, I was pregnant, we were really broke, there was nothing to do because of the civil strike, I was all-consumed by the act of parenting one child while growing another, I lost my desire to cook (or eat the foods I had cooked)... it fell apart. This last week or so has been spent trying to figure out, through a haze of insomnia, how to get back on track. I have found new love for iCal, preferring it to Google Calendar simply because my laptop and phone can sync with the click of an icon and my schedule is always at my fingertips. I had also grown immune to the handy reminders Google would send me via SMS, which was really the initial selling point. Anyways - I have been slowly inputting things of importance into my calendar, figuring out meal plans and budgets in the mean time - getting everything centralised and organised. And now that all the set-up is done it is time to move on to the next couple of goals.
Namely setting up a regular, weekly schedule for the family (with room for spontaneity, of course) and creating healthy and affordable meal plans*. I am trying not to over-fill our weeks, while still giving Sebastian the kind of stimulation that keeps him nice and sweet. It is a delicate balance, since a tidy portion of our recent outings have only served as fuel for my growing insanity (and his future therapy). We decided last week that the Library is a good morning errand - we have found a library we love, so of course it is in the next town over. And we're going to try out some of the community drop-ins, revisiting the ones we used to frequent and finding new ones. Last winter Sebastian and I really thrived when we had three regular, consistent, morning activities and two "days off." He got to go out and be around other kids and I got to talk to other adults. It left us both feeling fresh and able to manage the rest of our days.
So I am working on a schedule
*a side note that I may have already mentioned - we have gone back to having our groceries delivered - it costs more, but given my general state of overwhelmedness it seemed like a good idea in the short-term.
**I wrote this very shortly before admitting I was, in fact, having heaps of trouble managing and could not do it on my own. I debated scrapping the post, or finishing it and posting it - but given how much has happened between then and now I decided to leave it unfinished, exactly as it was left last week, a testament to how hard I was trying to maintain my denial and delicate facade of competence.
Seriously, in what kind of cruel world do I get slammed with a cold so soon after bringing new life into this world? I only hope that my diet of coffee and cookie dough will be sufficient to slay this beast, and soon.
I know I've been whining a lot - I have actually been avoiding posting on here for fear of sounding whiny, negative, ungrateful or depressed and annoying or worrying my friends and family who don't see me every day. Not that the people who do see me every day are any less worried - I admit I am a bit of a sight with my unkempt hair (dudes, it is fall in Vancouver and I have frizzy hair and *no time* for styling, this mop-like-thing on my head is just what happens, trust me I don't like it any more than you do. At least it proves I am showering!!), my dirty, ratty, mismatched clothes (Rigby is a master-spitter, this afternoon, in fact, after my shower, I decided to go naked for a while - to save creating more laundry) my under-eye bags (nope, not sleeping - quel shock, non?) and my gnarly cold symptoms that include a nasty cold sore, runny nose, strange voice and lack of patience (I am not good at being sick, which is why I generally avoid it). And I complain, a lot... it is a wonder no one has staged an intervention (yet) - but rest assured, I am pretty certain I am not falling into the depths of postpartum depression and am, instead, reacting pretty typically to the stresses in my life.
I wrote a little bit ago about wanting to find things to work on - the first has been to get organised again. There was a brief point in time, most of 2006 and a little bit of 2007, where I was almost meticulously organised, at least on paper, and if imperfect, the system did ensure I payed my bills mostly on time and that Sebastian and I had a pretty regular schedule that worked well for us. Then it fell apart, I was pregnant, we were really broke, there was nothing to do because of the civil strike, I was all-consumed by the act of parenting one child while growing another, I lost my desire to cook (or eat the foods I had cooked)... it fell apart. This last week or so has been spent trying to figure out, through a haze of insomnia, how to get back on track. I have found new love for iCal, preferring it to Google Calendar simply because my laptop and phone can sync with the click of an icon and my schedule is always at my fingertips. I had also grown immune to the handy reminders Google would send me via SMS, which was really the initial selling point. Anyways - I have been slowly inputting things of importance into my calendar, figuring out meal plans and budgets in the mean time - getting everything centralised and organised. And now that all the set-up is done it is time to move on to the next couple of goals.
Namely setting up a regular, weekly schedule for the family (with room for spontaneity, of course) and creating healthy and affordable meal plans*. I am trying not to over-fill our weeks, while still giving Sebastian the kind of stimulation that keeps him nice and sweet. It is a delicate balance, since a tidy portion of our recent outings have only served as fuel for my growing insanity (and his future therapy). We decided last week that the Library is a good morning errand - we have found a library we love, so of course it is in the next town over. And we're going to try out some of the community drop-ins, revisiting the ones we used to frequent and finding new ones. Last winter Sebastian and I really thrived when we had three regular, consistent, morning activities and two "days off." He got to go out and be around other kids and I got to talk to other adults. It left us both feeling fresh and able to manage the rest of our days.
So I am working on a schedule
*a side note that I may have already mentioned - we have gone back to having our groceries delivered - it costs more, but given my general state of overwhelmedness it seemed like a good idea in the short-term.
**I wrote this very shortly before admitting I was, in fact, having heaps of trouble managing and could not do it on my own. I debated scrapping the post, or finishing it and posting it - but given how much has happened between then and now I decided to leave it unfinished, exactly as it was left last week, a testament to how hard I was trying to maintain my denial and delicate facade of competence.
Wednesday, November 7
cook, eat, play, clean, cook, eat, clean, cook, eat, sleep, repeat
Today we ventured out of the house. Originally the plan had been to visit the family centre - but by the time we were ready to walk out the door it was almost snack time. I convinced Sebastian that a trip to the coffee shop and park could be just as exciting. The promise of a blueberry bran muffin tipped the scales.
Sebastian jumped into each and every puddle we came across, and it is fall in Vancouver, so you know there are plenty. I didn't mind at all, he was snug in his new rain outfit and I had a stash of towels in the stroller, just in case. Rigby enjoyed her first walk... well, I assume she did, she spent most of the trip asleep in her stroller bubble and didn't make a fuss until we left the park. The coffee shop was a big hit - and despite the rain we were able to sit outside quite comfortably (lucky, since the cafe was packed to the hilt and I had ordered my coffee and our muffin to stay). We chatted abut the things we saw - I explained that pigeons were not welcome in coffee shops, Sebastian explained that dogs do not eat people (?). I'd hoped to sneak back home without the promised trip to the park - our very lovely walk to the coffee shop having taken about three times as long as I had thought it would. I have to remind myself often that he's not so little any more and remembers things. I didn't mind, really, I had dressed us all well and none of us were uncomfortable or crabby, yet. Once at the park Sebastian got over his disappointment that there were no other kids present when he made the thrilling discovery that his waterproof pants, combined with the plastic slide and rain made for a very exciting ride. He was also happy to have my (nearly) undivided attention for a while.
We were having a ball and ended up staying out just a wee bit too long, on the way back Sebastian decided he was not going to be able to walk the entire distance home and Rigby wailed for a good five blocks, it started to really rain as we walked home and I ended up briskly pushing the stroller as Sebastian rode my shoulders. I then hit a point, a block from home, where I didn't think I would make it. Luckily, Sebastian had gotten his second wind and was willing to complete the last leg of our journey under his own steam. We came home, tired, wet, hungry and more than a little crabby - but we'd had fun, and more than that, with the knowledge that we could do it.
And now, my husband just walked in the door with ice cream, dark chocolate, diet pepsi, bread, dip and wine (yeah baby) to make up for the three HOURS of laundry in our manual washer... I was feeling pretty pissy earlier - I'm now feeling much better (and the venomous thoughts about my husband have almost completely faded away... though the fart stink he just left a few feet away from me and the fact that I lost the original conclusion to this post because I had signed into his gmail by his request, giving blogger a brain-fart, have brought back a tiny bit of venom). Nothing a nice back rub wouldn't fix.
I have some relevant photos to post - but because I am too lazy to find both my camera and camera cord - I will leave you with the *promise* of photos to come.
Sebastian jumped into each and every puddle we came across, and it is fall in Vancouver, so you know there are plenty. I didn't mind at all, he was snug in his new rain outfit and I had a stash of towels in the stroller, just in case. Rigby enjoyed her first walk... well, I assume she did, she spent most of the trip asleep in her stroller bubble and didn't make a fuss until we left the park. The coffee shop was a big hit - and despite the rain we were able to sit outside quite comfortably (lucky, since the cafe was packed to the hilt and I had ordered my coffee and our muffin to stay). We chatted abut the things we saw - I explained that pigeons were not welcome in coffee shops, Sebastian explained that dogs do not eat people (?). I'd hoped to sneak back home without the promised trip to the park - our very lovely walk to the coffee shop having taken about three times as long as I had thought it would. I have to remind myself often that he's not so little any more and remembers things. I didn't mind, really, I had dressed us all well and none of us were uncomfortable or crabby, yet. Once at the park Sebastian got over his disappointment that there were no other kids present when he made the thrilling discovery that his waterproof pants, combined with the plastic slide and rain made for a very exciting ride. He was also happy to have my (nearly) undivided attention for a while.
We were having a ball and ended up staying out just a wee bit too long, on the way back Sebastian decided he was not going to be able to walk the entire distance home and Rigby wailed for a good five blocks, it started to really rain as we walked home and I ended up briskly pushing the stroller as Sebastian rode my shoulders. I then hit a point, a block from home, where I didn't think I would make it. Luckily, Sebastian had gotten his second wind and was willing to complete the last leg of our journey under his own steam. We came home, tired, wet, hungry and more than a little crabby - but we'd had fun, and more than that, with the knowledge that we could do it.
And now, my husband just walked in the door with ice cream, dark chocolate, diet pepsi, bread, dip and wine (yeah baby) to make up for the three HOURS of laundry in our manual washer... I was feeling pretty pissy earlier - I'm now feeling much better (and the venomous thoughts about my husband have almost completely faded away... though the fart stink he just left a few feet away from me and the fact that I lost the original conclusion to this post because I had signed into his gmail by his request, giving blogger a brain-fart, have brought back a tiny bit of venom). Nothing a nice back rub wouldn't fix.
I have some relevant photos to post - but because I am too lazy to find both my camera and camera cord - I will leave you with the *promise* of photos to come.
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).
babybabybabybabybabybaby
Today is that magical 37 week mark - I could go into labour any time now and be full term... I am getting my birth basket together (a rubbermaid laundry basket that will contain our birth kit). I dropped my group B strep test off at the lab yesterday morning. I am taking Evening Primrose Oil (EPO) and drinking Red Raspberry Leaf (RRL) Tea. I can feel my body physically preparing for the work it has ahead. I am reading Birthing From Within, my midwife's home birth guide and all the articles and handouts from last weekend's Birthing Again class.
We've set up registries and wish lists at BabiesRUs and Sears - even though the stuff we really want (read: expensive but organic/natural/local and beautiful) can be found at places like Dandelion Kids, Natural Pod and Baby Buddha. We are sorting out getting the things we really need (a carseat - which - knock on wood - my awesome mother and step-father are buying us, and our birth kit, which our friends Brian and Shannon unexpectedly purchased for us) as well as all the things we are borrowing (most of which are much less pressing, breast-pump, bassinet, bouncy seat, etc).
We've been talking to Sebastian about the arrival of his new brother or sister - as well as trying to get his routines re-established (oh my god he napped today and I almost cried I was so relieved). Discipline that has fallen to the side due to travel and visits and maternal fatigue needs to be re-established.
There is still lots on my to-do list and I am holding out hope that I have three or even four weeks left to get it all done - but I am at peace with the idea of it not coming together before the baby comes and dealing with that.
We've set up registries and wish lists at BabiesRUs and Sears - even though the stuff we really want (read: expensive but organic/natural/local and beautiful) can be found at places like Dandelion Kids, Natural Pod and Baby Buddha. We are sorting out getting the things we really need (a carseat - which - knock on wood - my awesome mother and step-father are buying us, and our birth kit, which our friends Brian and Shannon unexpectedly purchased for us) as well as all the things we are borrowing (most of which are much less pressing, breast-pump, bassinet, bouncy seat, etc).
We've been talking to Sebastian about the arrival of his new brother or sister - as well as trying to get his routines re-established (oh my god he napped today and I almost cried I was so relieved). Discipline that has fallen to the side due to travel and visits and maternal fatigue needs to be re-established.
There is still lots on my to-do list and I am holding out hope that I have three or even four weeks left to get it all done - but I am at peace with the idea of it not coming together before the baby comes and dealing with that.
Sunday, September 2
what "they" don't tell you
Pregnancy is alienating.
Forget what you see in those glossy Pregnancy magazines, filled with the latest, greatest, must-haves and cute pregnancy fashions - pregnancy is not all that much fun. I can't quite remember my last pregnancy - it was two sleepless years ago, but I remember thinking along the way that it didn't seem nearly as cool as I was made to think it would.
And that pregnancy was far "cooler" than this one, I worked full-time in a funky retail shop until very close to the end, I got to interact with adults all day, I got to listen to music I liked and read books and magazines (it was a quiet store). I saw my co-workers and friends every day, we talked about my pregnancy among other things and I was, generally, treated like an adult. That said, I definitely felt myself drift away from the people in my life as the life inside me took over. We hear the list all the time - tired, hormonal, cranky, bloated - but never does it really occur to us that all these things will happen at once and be so consuming.
Before getting pregnant again I envied other pregnant women, that glow, that joy, that incredible ability to grow a life - I rarely considered (even after having Sebastian) that they might be lonely. I always assume joy, assume a grand pre-occupation with their magical bodies, mostly I assume they wouldn't want me to bother them. I imagined, both times, of pregnancy as a kind of secret club. Full of belly pats and kindness from strangers and friends alike.
This pregnancy I have been a member of a club so secret that I have been spending most of my days in the lonesome company of my dear son. Life is easier that way - for months it has taken me forever to do anything, from getting ready in the mornings to making a decision to making dinner. Everything seems to take three times as long to do as anyone would think it should.
Then there's that whole not actually wanting to do anything bit. Sure a trip downtown on the bus sounded like a good idea the night before - but when the possibility of dragging an uncooperative toddler on to and off of a bus, up stairs, down stairs, having to change plans at the last moment because I'm too hot, there are too many stairs, there's not enough time, plus trying to make a lunch decision because I know I will either forget to pack a picnic or be completely repulsed by the sandwiches I'd worked frantically on before missing our third bus on top of the guilt over deciding to drive to my destination because otherwise there is no way in hell we would get to do anything before naptime and if we bail on this trip one more time this week Sebastian is likely to have a two-hour tantrum. When I contemplate trying to add other people into that mix I cringe. I can manage my guilt over screwing up my own family's day, but I can't bear the guilt of ruining another family's too.
Being out of the loop hasn't helped any either - it is easy to fall into a sort of solitary routine after enough time passes. With friends away for the summer, friends with out-of-town guests, out-of-town guests of our own, family members off on trips, family pre-occupation with house hunting or house selling and moving, Andrew's near-constant summer overtime, and the closure of most community-based activities so soon after our move to a new community. Life just felt simpler alone. Not better, just simpler, more adaptable, more manageable, less tense.
I'm a little side-tracked here, though, making excuses for my own alienation instead of focusing on my original thought, that pregnancy is alienating. I have heard it from all around, places where I talk to other mothers online, especially. We all feel a little left out, as one woman put it, it is like feeling 45 while surrounded by 18 year olds. This is especially true if the majority of your friends are childless - they don't quite get that your mind has been turned to swiss cheese and that not drinking is not the biggest issue when they want you to go out with them. Being pregnant means being aware of a whole laundry list of rules, some straightforward (don't get wasted, don't smoke, don't eat raw fish) some less-so (don't eat feta, or brie, or deli meat, eat peanuts, no don't eat peanuts, yes eat them - but only if you want to, and don't eat too many), exercise, but not too much, listen to your body, even though it is speaking a foreign language and you don't have a translator, you are strong, you are weak, you are doing a good and miraculous thing, you are contributing to overpopulation and global warming. Oh, and is there lead in any of the baby stuff you've picked up? Should you buy second-hand? What chemicals are those plastic toys leaching? What birth-route should you take?
The first time around, the questions that swam through my head were consuming an distracting - this time, with the addition of a ever-changing toddler and the combined effects of normal parental sleep deprivation and pregnancy insomnia (and is coffee okay?) my mind is just full-up.
And it seems the second (or third) time around is no less alienating. As I stated I am feeling it pretty intensely, but so are other mothers I talk to - and it seems, to me at least, that by the time the baby comes we have spent so much time occupying our tiny world that we can't quite figure out how to interact with other human beings again. This certainly isn't true of all mothers, but I see it in some of the ones I met early in my pregnancy. And I really wish I had reached out to them. They all had that same distracted look, that preoccupied conversational style, that wandering train of thought that can come off as disinterest, but now think is more a symptom of the isolation (or left-over pregnancy hormones). Whatever it was, I am pretty sure it was not directed at me. I now leave conversations with a distinct feeling that I was just like that (or worse, said something totally inappropriate or out of context), sadly this realisation usually hits too late (we're talking hours or days later, if ever).
So I am lonely and feeling alienated, all the while I am alienating my friends and family, the cycle is vicious and seemingly never-ending.
At least I am getting my mama-groove back (more on that soon!) and am feeling a little more inclined to try and get as much fun out of the next few weeks as I can squeeze. I just hope that when the chips fall I still have my tiny tribe.
ps. don't get me wrong, there are loads of things I am really enjoying about my pregnancy - and they may also be contributing to my hermityness and laziness - I enjoy sitting around, drinking tea and just feeling the baby move inside of me. It is much like how I am trying to make the most of the last of my alone time with Sebastian - I am also trying to mentally record every happy nuance of this pregnancy, I know this time it will be my last.
Forget what you see in those glossy Pregnancy magazines, filled with the latest, greatest, must-haves and cute pregnancy fashions - pregnancy is not all that much fun. I can't quite remember my last pregnancy - it was two sleepless years ago, but I remember thinking along the way that it didn't seem nearly as cool as I was made to think it would.
And that pregnancy was far "cooler" than this one, I worked full-time in a funky retail shop until very close to the end, I got to interact with adults all day, I got to listen to music I liked and read books and magazines (it was a quiet store). I saw my co-workers and friends every day, we talked about my pregnancy among other things and I was, generally, treated like an adult. That said, I definitely felt myself drift away from the people in my life as the life inside me took over. We hear the list all the time - tired, hormonal, cranky, bloated - but never does it really occur to us that all these things will happen at once and be so consuming.
Before getting pregnant again I envied other pregnant women, that glow, that joy, that incredible ability to grow a life - I rarely considered (even after having Sebastian) that they might be lonely. I always assume joy, assume a grand pre-occupation with their magical bodies, mostly I assume they wouldn't want me to bother them. I imagined, both times, of pregnancy as a kind of secret club. Full of belly pats and kindness from strangers and friends alike.
This pregnancy I have been a member of a club so secret that I have been spending most of my days in the lonesome company of my dear son. Life is easier that way - for months it has taken me forever to do anything, from getting ready in the mornings to making a decision to making dinner. Everything seems to take three times as long to do as anyone would think it should.
Then there's that whole not actually wanting to do anything bit. Sure a trip downtown on the bus sounded like a good idea the night before - but when the possibility of dragging an uncooperative toddler on to and off of a bus, up stairs, down stairs, having to change plans at the last moment because I'm too hot, there are too many stairs, there's not enough time, plus trying to make a lunch decision because I know I will either forget to pack a picnic or be completely repulsed by the sandwiches I'd worked frantically on before missing our third bus on top of the guilt over deciding to drive to my destination because otherwise there is no way in hell we would get to do anything before naptime and if we bail on this trip one more time this week Sebastian is likely to have a two-hour tantrum. When I contemplate trying to add other people into that mix I cringe. I can manage my guilt over screwing up my own family's day, but I can't bear the guilt of ruining another family's too.
Being out of the loop hasn't helped any either - it is easy to fall into a sort of solitary routine after enough time passes. With friends away for the summer, friends with out-of-town guests, out-of-town guests of our own, family members off on trips, family pre-occupation with house hunting or house selling and moving, Andrew's near-constant summer overtime, and the closure of most community-based activities so soon after our move to a new community. Life just felt simpler alone. Not better, just simpler, more adaptable, more manageable, less tense.
I'm a little side-tracked here, though, making excuses for my own alienation instead of focusing on my original thought, that pregnancy is alienating. I have heard it from all around, places where I talk to other mothers online, especially. We all feel a little left out, as one woman put it, it is like feeling 45 while surrounded by 18 year olds. This is especially true if the majority of your friends are childless - they don't quite get that your mind has been turned to swiss cheese and that not drinking is not the biggest issue when they want you to go out with them. Being pregnant means being aware of a whole laundry list of rules, some straightforward (don't get wasted, don't smoke, don't eat raw fish) some less-so (don't eat feta, or brie, or deli meat, eat peanuts, no don't eat peanuts, yes eat them - but only if you want to, and don't eat too many), exercise, but not too much, listen to your body, even though it is speaking a foreign language and you don't have a translator, you are strong, you are weak, you are doing a good and miraculous thing, you are contributing to overpopulation and global warming. Oh, and is there lead in any of the baby stuff you've picked up? Should you buy second-hand? What chemicals are those plastic toys leaching? What birth-route should you take?
The first time around, the questions that swam through my head were consuming an distracting - this time, with the addition of a ever-changing toddler and the combined effects of normal parental sleep deprivation and pregnancy insomnia (and is coffee okay?) my mind is just full-up.
And it seems the second (or third) time around is no less alienating. As I stated I am feeling it pretty intensely, but so are other mothers I talk to - and it seems, to me at least, that by the time the baby comes we have spent so much time occupying our tiny world that we can't quite figure out how to interact with other human beings again. This certainly isn't true of all mothers, but I see it in some of the ones I met early in my pregnancy. And I really wish I had reached out to them. They all had that same distracted look, that preoccupied conversational style, that wandering train of thought that can come off as disinterest, but now think is more a symptom of the isolation (or left-over pregnancy hormones). Whatever it was, I am pretty sure it was not directed at me. I now leave conversations with a distinct feeling that I was just like that (or worse, said something totally inappropriate or out of context), sadly this realisation usually hits too late (we're talking hours or days later, if ever).
So I am lonely and feeling alienated, all the while I am alienating my friends and family, the cycle is vicious and seemingly never-ending.
At least I am getting my mama-groove back (more on that soon!) and am feeling a little more inclined to try and get as much fun out of the next few weeks as I can squeeze. I just hope that when the chips fall I still have my tiny tribe.
ps. don't get me wrong, there are loads of things I am really enjoying about my pregnancy - and they may also be contributing to my hermityness and laziness - I enjoy sitting around, drinking tea and just feeling the baby move inside of me. It is much like how I am trying to make the most of the last of my alone time with Sebastian - I am also trying to mentally record every happy nuance of this pregnancy, I know this time it will be my last.
Tuesday, August 28
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.
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.
Saturday, August 4
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.
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.
Friday, August 3
I promise I will post something interesting soon - but not today
I've been going through what could be best described as a funk. Maybe you'd noticed.
Today I did something I haven't done in ages, I cleaned the bathroom. It didn't feel quite as good as I had hoped it would, but once I finished I figured I might as well vacuum the kid's room, then the kid spilled the last of his cheddar gators in the living room, so I hit that one too. By this point I had decided not to make dinner (it would have required a trip to the store) and instead I called the big pizza chain and ordered us a fake pepperoni pizza.
When Andrew got home, he and Sebastian played outside while I *gasp* read a book. I finished Miss Wyoming, many many moons after I started it. It was nice to do something else, I have been too connected lately, reading too much online, absorbing too much news and too many opinions. Wasting too much time.
It is like my old relationship with television. So I need to reign that crap in before it gets all out of hand. I think I am going to take a break from some of my daily reads - perhaps pick up some new-old ones (having finally imported my old Internet Explorer favourites) and maybe take some time for my hobbies. Or maybe pencil some time for my family in somewhere.
In that vein (or not), I have four or five half-finished blog entries I am going to finish up this weekend - so that I can stop feeling so overwhelmed every time I open dashboard. Plus there will be all kinds of cute pictures.
Today I did something I haven't done in ages, I cleaned the bathroom. It didn't feel quite as good as I had hoped it would, but once I finished I figured I might as well vacuum the kid's room, then the kid spilled the last of his cheddar gators in the living room, so I hit that one too. By this point I had decided not to make dinner (it would have required a trip to the store) and instead I called the big pizza chain and ordered us a fake pepperoni pizza.
When Andrew got home, he and Sebastian played outside while I *gasp* read a book. I finished Miss Wyoming, many many moons after I started it. It was nice to do something else, I have been too connected lately, reading too much online, absorbing too much news and too many opinions. Wasting too much time.
It is like my old relationship with television. So I need to reign that crap in before it gets all out of hand. I think I am going to take a break from some of my daily reads - perhaps pick up some new-old ones (having finally imported my old Internet Explorer favourites) and maybe take some time for my hobbies. Or maybe pencil some time for my family in somewhere.
In that vein (or not), I have four or five half-finished blog entries I am going to finish up this weekend - so that I can stop feeling so overwhelmed every time I open dashboard. Plus there will be all kinds of cute pictures.
Tuesday, July 31
insert title here
We've been having a great time. Yesterday was a trip to the beach with friends - well worth the drive across town - Sebastian has really taken to the ocean. After being too frightened to go within ten feet of the water's edge as recently as April, he will now venture in on his own as long as one of us is close behind. He laughs as each wave cools his body with a mix of amusement and wonder that only a toddler can produce. It is musical and contagious, as hard and stoic as I have been lately - that laugh got me going.
I have been taking life much too seriously. I have been taking myself and my position as household matriarch too seriously. Every flaw is fatal, every shortcoming or mistake bringing me to a dead stop. Moving so quickly I look like I am standing still - until one day I found I really was. Just standing still.
It is a problem I think I have had my whole life. I over-analyze, I rehearse hypothetical situations in my head until I can't remember what is memory and what is fabrication, I see all challenges as my own Everest, all failings as further proof of my un-worth. I have always looked outside myself for acceptance and assurance.
Having a kid is like having a life-line, being the primary care-giver for a child has a way of consistently bringing me back from the edge. Sebastian is my blessing. When I get too caught up in myself, in my internal dialogues - he manifests it. He is this tiny, loud, projector that reminds me when I am falling off the path - and I love him for it. I worry that this role is somehow fucking him up in ways only intense therapy later in life will correct* but considering the family he was born into, therapy later in life is likely a given.
He has been "a terror" - he has been a frustrated two-year-old. A smart, funny, caring, energetic two-year-old. His current weapon of choice is the loud, screamy, shouting "NO!" Guess where he got it from? I used it on him first, so it really is fair game - working on lessening its use means minimizing its power. This means that I can not use it** and when I look at why I had been using it, I find it is primarily because I have been feeling too fat and lazy to properly handle difficult situations (from hitting to running off to grabbing food off the grocery store shelf). The second step is that I will have to find ways to take its power away from Sebastian - this is less cut and dry.
I have been trying to ignore it, but that technique is losing its power as Sebastian has discovered the magic of escalation. If yelling doesn't get mom to react, I will try yelling plus throwing things. At some point I have to react and as soon as I react the simple ignoring has lost its power. Simple ignoring seems to be best saved for situations like whining. I think a mix of calm reaction, coupled with polite, firm, reminders that yelling is not how we communicate. And lets not forget the power of paying attention to him as in, before he gets frustrated, taking the time to listen and help him articulate what he wants/needs and responding to those needs in a loving, supportive fashion. Sounds pretty simple.
We are also working on potty learning, though I am still being a lazy ass about it. I think part of the problem is our switch last spring back to disposables, not only do they allow Sebastian much longer before he becomes uncomfortable, they also take away that urgency that cloth held. In cloth diapers, as soon as I knew he was wet/dirty, I knew I had to change him - otherwise I would have to face changing his entire outfit. Now, I know, but I know it can wait until the timing is more "convenient" (wet diapers only) - Andrew and I have talked in depth about getting a "Wonder Wash" - a hand-powered portable washer - so that we can switch back to cloth diapers. I think it is something we should do - but we have a very long list of those things and they are all getting a little lost. But for now, with what we've got, we're stuck with disposables and I think I just have to accept that we will go though potty bootcamp - and soon, if we want to be through this before new baby comes.
Must. stop. making. excuses.***
*Sebastian, I promise you that I will pay for any therapy you need. It is the least I can do, sweetpea.
**except in dangerous situations when a staccato NO is totally appropriate- and because it should be something that will stop a child in their tracks - it is just another reason to halt its regular use
*** but I'm so GOOD at it!!!
I have been taking life much too seriously. I have been taking myself and my position as household matriarch too seriously. Every flaw is fatal, every shortcoming or mistake bringing me to a dead stop. Moving so quickly I look like I am standing still - until one day I found I really was. Just standing still.
It is a problem I think I have had my whole life. I over-analyze, I rehearse hypothetical situations in my head until I can't remember what is memory and what is fabrication, I see all challenges as my own Everest, all failings as further proof of my un-worth. I have always looked outside myself for acceptance and assurance.
Having a kid is like having a life-line, being the primary care-giver for a child has a way of consistently bringing me back from the edge. Sebastian is my blessing. When I get too caught up in myself, in my internal dialogues - he manifests it. He is this tiny, loud, projector that reminds me when I am falling off the path - and I love him for it. I worry that this role is somehow fucking him up in ways only intense therapy later in life will correct* but considering the family he was born into, therapy later in life is likely a given.
He has been "a terror" - he has been a frustrated two-year-old. A smart, funny, caring, energetic two-year-old. His current weapon of choice is the loud, screamy, shouting "NO!" Guess where he got it from? I used it on him first, so it really is fair game - working on lessening its use means minimizing its power. This means that I can not use it** and when I look at why I had been using it, I find it is primarily because I have been feeling too fat and lazy to properly handle difficult situations (from hitting to running off to grabbing food off the grocery store shelf). The second step is that I will have to find ways to take its power away from Sebastian - this is less cut and dry.
I have been trying to ignore it, but that technique is losing its power as Sebastian has discovered the magic of escalation. If yelling doesn't get mom to react, I will try yelling plus throwing things. At some point I have to react and as soon as I react the simple ignoring has lost its power. Simple ignoring seems to be best saved for situations like whining. I think a mix of calm reaction, coupled with polite, firm, reminders that yelling is not how we communicate. And lets not forget the power of paying attention to him as in, before he gets frustrated, taking the time to listen and help him articulate what he wants/needs and responding to those needs in a loving, supportive fashion. Sounds pretty simple.
We are also working on potty learning, though I am still being a lazy ass about it. I think part of the problem is our switch last spring back to disposables, not only do they allow Sebastian much longer before he becomes uncomfortable, they also take away that urgency that cloth held. In cloth diapers, as soon as I knew he was wet/dirty, I knew I had to change him - otherwise I would have to face changing his entire outfit. Now, I know, but I know it can wait until the timing is more "convenient" (wet diapers only) - Andrew and I have talked in depth about getting a "Wonder Wash" - a hand-powered portable washer - so that we can switch back to cloth diapers. I think it is something we should do - but we have a very long list of those things and they are all getting a little lost. But for now, with what we've got, we're stuck with disposables and I think I just have to accept that we will go though potty bootcamp - and soon, if we want to be through this before new baby comes.
Must. stop. making. excuses.***
*Sebastian, I promise you that I will pay for any therapy you need. It is the least I can do, sweetpea.
**except in dangerous situations when a staccato NO is totally appropriate- and because it should be something that will stop a child in their tracks - it is just another reason to halt its regular use
*** but I'm so GOOD at it!!!
Sunday, July 29
I know you can be overwhelmed, and you can be underwhelmed, but can you ever just be whelmed?
I have a not-so-secret obsession with teen movies.
I have been scarce again, which is what happens when I feel like I have too much to say. I guard my words and say nothing, I brew and stew and slowly my thoughts start gnawing away at whatever balance or happiness I had been trying so hard to hold onto.
Nothing really heavy, either, just the same old mixed bag. There are the things in my tiny world that weigh me down: money trouble, making plans, managing my slowly diminishing mental capacity, household management, behaviour issues (not just the toddler's), and of course, the impending addition to our family (80 days). Then there are the things in my larger, but still immediate, world adding their heft: the civic strike, a nearby oil spill, the housing crisis, the controversial 2010 game prep, and the fucking neighbours who are re-building the house across the street at all hours with little regard for the rest of us. Finally I've been fretting about the big big world: what does the future hold, am I doing enough, where are all these wars headed, how can we reduce our environmental impact, fears of tainted foods, unsafe toys, unethical trade, slave labour, toxic spills, nuclear time-bombs and oceanic dead zones.
Okay, some of it is heavy.
Shortly before getting pregnant with Sebastian, I got a subscription to Adbusters. In the months leading up to parenthood I read and re-read every word written in those pages. I read with a mix of fear and hope. I feared that "we" were too late - that we are already skipping off to hell in our Prada shoes, clutching our Coach purses, lips and arm-pits full of botox and minds full of a mix of self-importance and self-loathing. But in those pages I also saw a glimmer of hope, hope that the obviousness of impending global crises would mobilize the human race in ways only ever seen on movie screens. Two years later I still hold out hope - I see people making positive changes, I see people putting their lives on display so that others can see how unimpossible change can be.
I also see people losing faith in the systems that brought us here, I hear from boomers their regrets that they raised us in this strange new world and didn't tell us it would be our responsibility to keep the dream from falling apart, I see a new generation peeking out from behind video game consoles and rejecting the processed pablum we've spoon-fed them their entire lives, demanding fresh air, clean water and places to run. I see all this and I am filled with hope. I am also filled with fear that it is too late for most of us. I see people of my generation, people who ought to know better, still basking in denial, looking for ways to make the old systems work so that they don't have to change, still raping our precious green spaces, still supporting a food industry that has proven it doesn't give a shit about anything but profit, sitting in their air-conditioned, detached, suburban homes, crunching chips and watching with concern the results of whatever reality show is in season. Using the loo when a news story comes on, unless it includes the mugshot of an a-lister.
Who can blame them? Change is hard and confusing and scary. Misinformation, misdirection, mistakes... it is a hell of a lot easier to just go with the flow. I should know. I have been known to be perfectly status-quo. Hell, we, the "vegetarian Forsyths" had McDonald's for dinner last night. And we all ate meat. Talk about your hypocritical clan - this dinner trip took place no more than five hours after I passionately explained the importance of fair trade to a group of visitors.
I. am. an. ass.
I also don't remember where I meant to go with this rant. Maybe this was my desired result, admitting my assyness, getting it off my chest, not in hope of any absolution, but so that you know that I know that I am a hypocrite. Balancing my desires with what is right is this constant struggle between dark and light and all shades of gray. Giving up on that struggle, whether because I feel like the balance has been achieved (it never is) or because I feel like it is too hard (it isn't) always seems to leave me feeling better for a moment then worse for an eternity as I scramble back up to my last foothold. The things I think will make me feel better - eating, shopping, vegging - never do. The things I avoid - working, planning, cleaning - always do.
Funny how I still haven't figured that out.
I have been scarce again, which is what happens when I feel like I have too much to say. I guard my words and say nothing, I brew and stew and slowly my thoughts start gnawing away at whatever balance or happiness I had been trying so hard to hold onto.
Nothing really heavy, either, just the same old mixed bag. There are the things in my tiny world that weigh me down: money trouble, making plans, managing my slowly diminishing mental capacity, household management, behaviour issues (not just the toddler's), and of course, the impending addition to our family (80 days). Then there are the things in my larger, but still immediate, world adding their heft: the civic strike, a nearby oil spill, the housing crisis, the controversial 2010 game prep, and the fucking neighbours who are re-building the house across the street at all hours with little regard for the rest of us. Finally I've been fretting about the big big world: what does the future hold, am I doing enough, where are all these wars headed, how can we reduce our environmental impact, fears of tainted foods, unsafe toys, unethical trade, slave labour, toxic spills, nuclear time-bombs and oceanic dead zones.
Okay, some of it is heavy.
Shortly before getting pregnant with Sebastian, I got a subscription to Adbusters. In the months leading up to parenthood I read and re-read every word written in those pages. I read with a mix of fear and hope. I feared that "we" were too late - that we are already skipping off to hell in our Prada shoes, clutching our Coach purses, lips and arm-pits full of botox and minds full of a mix of self-importance and self-loathing. But in those pages I also saw a glimmer of hope, hope that the obviousness of impending global crises would mobilize the human race in ways only ever seen on movie screens. Two years later I still hold out hope - I see people making positive changes, I see people putting their lives on display so that others can see how unimpossible change can be.
I also see people losing faith in the systems that brought us here, I hear from boomers their regrets that they raised us in this strange new world and didn't tell us it would be our responsibility to keep the dream from falling apart, I see a new generation peeking out from behind video game consoles and rejecting the processed pablum we've spoon-fed them their entire lives, demanding fresh air, clean water and places to run. I see all this and I am filled with hope. I am also filled with fear that it is too late for most of us. I see people of my generation, people who ought to know better, still basking in denial, looking for ways to make the old systems work so that they don't have to change, still raping our precious green spaces, still supporting a food industry that has proven it doesn't give a shit about anything but profit, sitting in their air-conditioned, detached, suburban homes, crunching chips and watching with concern the results of whatever reality show is in season. Using the loo when a news story comes on, unless it includes the mugshot of an a-lister.
Who can blame them? Change is hard and confusing and scary. Misinformation, misdirection, mistakes... it is a hell of a lot easier to just go with the flow. I should know. I have been known to be perfectly status-quo. Hell, we, the "vegetarian Forsyths" had McDonald's for dinner last night. And we all ate meat. Talk about your hypocritical clan - this dinner trip took place no more than five hours after I passionately explained the importance of fair trade to a group of visitors.
I. am. an. ass.
I also don't remember where I meant to go with this rant. Maybe this was my desired result, admitting my assyness, getting it off my chest, not in hope of any absolution, but so that you know that I know that I am a hypocrite. Balancing my desires with what is right is this constant struggle between dark and light and all shades of gray. Giving up on that struggle, whether because I feel like the balance has been achieved (it never is) or because I feel like it is too hard (it isn't) always seems to leave me feeling better for a moment then worse for an eternity as I scramble back up to my last foothold. The things I think will make me feel better - eating, shopping, vegging - never do. The things I avoid - working, planning, cleaning - always do.
Funny how I still haven't figured that out.
Wednesday, July 25
who's a hermit now?????
Yesterday, after Sebastian's nap, he played outside as I turned an aging mango into chutney. During the process I managed to throw/drop the small pyrex bowl I was mixing the starch and water in. It exploded - poor Sebastian wanted so badly to make sure I was alright (there may have been a few choice words muttered) but I had to keep him outside while I hunted down every last bit of shattered glass.
We had a couple of friends over for dinner last night and the chutney was to go with the *wonderful* chickpea and cauliflower curry I made up based loosely on this recipe from VegWeb. They brought delicious samosas, and we drank (fake) beer and mocktails and talked about grown-up things and had a really awesome time.
cooking dinner:
drinking beer:
Like adults, I cleaned up while Andrew put Sebastian to sleep and we went to bed at an almost decent hour - full of food and (after only one Tum) amazingly un-heartburny!
Today I woke up planning to spend a dreary day doing laundry and other boring things. That was before I remembered a playdate I had said we would be attending. It was a park that was just far enough away to make the idea of walking just a little too much - after a lengthy internal debate I decided to drive. My son, who is a better environmentalist that I am, was very upset that we were not walking. He came around as soon as we got there and he saw the kids and play equipment.
The park and the playdate were terrific, we met some new parents and kids - we had a nice picnic and made it home in time for a nice nap.
Remembering that the weekly neighbourhood farmer's market was today, we headed over there after Sebastian's nap. We picked up some great produce, fresh apricots, nectarines, blueberries and beets, as well as a free bag of random salad bits (lettuce and radishes) and eggs.
We came home and decided rather than cook or, you know make anything, we would have hot dogs and banana bread (thanks Kristi!!). Now Andrew is back at work (near-constant work issues this week) and tomorrow he will be home in the afternoon so he can go back in the evening. This will allow him to take a nap and me to do laundry - good times. At least Sebastian and I have morning plans - we're going to the family centre (not affected by the strike - YAY) with my friend Kristi and her daughter.
Also - for all my Vancouver mama friends, a list of things to do during the strike can be found at yoyomama.ca.
Note to self - Sunday market in Kits for honey and jam woman's going out of business.
Tuesday, July 24
sweet child of mine
We finally got a bed.
On Sunday morning I had to call Andrew into the bedroom to help my fat ass out of bed - that was the final straw, it was time to get a real bed. That's it up there, we love it. It ended up being a joint birthday gift from Andrew's parents and my dad - good for us, because while we could technically afford it (or half of it) it is better for us not to be out any money. I still need to book a plane ticket to Calgary for my 10-year High School reunion - and save some money for it too (it is at a bar, so I doubt I will be spending much. But I will need cab fare and a haircut.)
The bed is great and I find it much more conducive to sleeping (and getting up); it has the added bonus of making our room look more like grown-ups sleep there. The new bedroom look, combined with my sewing shelf's sudden suicide*, inspired me to make some more changes. Yesterday, I moved a shelving unit from Sebastian's room into the living room and stocked it with toys and most of what was living on the shelf (90% OPPs). The toys cover a wide age span and are specifically for when we have playdates, but also give the man something to do in the living room while I work (other than watch DVDs on the laptop). Over the next few days I will fill the tiny dresser to the right of the shelves with easy-clean craft stuff (crayons, paper, tape), Sebastian has recently discovered the joy of crafting and I am all about encouraging that.
before:
after:
Sebastian's room also got a total makeover, I disassembled his train table and put the play part of it under his bed (easily accessible but totally out of the way). His stuffed toys now live inside his little red tent - an arrangement he wholeheartedly endorses - and his easel now doubles as storage, with vintage apple crates below it holding miscellany. Things are just a little more organised (a place for everything) and spread out. We managed to fill a bag with stuff to donate and another with stuff for the new baby. Under better storage conditions I would put aside half his toys for "turning over" - but we have literally zero storage space, my hope is that by switching locations and rotating things to more visible areas regularly, we can achieve a similar effect.
Speaking of Sebastian, I am starting to worry that my hermit-ness is adversely affecting him. He has been asking, daily, to play with other kids - but when he is around other kids his behaviour is unpredictable and unstable. I think because he is so excited and a little unsure of how he is supposed to act. Last week, after about a week solid of hermiting, we went to the family centre where Sebastian uncharacteristically hit and pushed a child, then threw a toy.
Since then we have made more effort to get him out and social - but still haven't done much. We went to the mall on Friday where he played quite well in the "play pit" there, the weekend was rather kid-less but we did get in a visit with Sebastian's aunts (who are still kids in my book), my dad and his partner. Today a friend and her daughter came over. Sebastian was thrilled but was also a little overwhelming (even after an early morning run around the playground to burn off some energy). All in all I would say it was a good visit - more stressful than I like, but not so bad that I'm worried Kristi will never want to come back.
This week we have plans to go to the Family Centre again (not affected by the strike - woo!!!) and the weather seems to be clearing up - so there is a park playdate on tomorrow's agenda with a new meetup.com group.
*while I was talking on the phone to the lovely people at Aeroplan (who informed me my many points expired three years ago - oops.) the other big black ikea shelf jumped off the wall, narrowly avoiding my head and Andrew's laptop. The woman on the other end of the phone was hilarious - apparently I screamed a swore a *lot* when it happened.
before:
after:
(note the neighbouring holes from shelf number one (above the picture that could be Walt Whitman, but apparently is not) - I think the remaining shelf got lonely and decided to call it quits. They have been reunited under the bed.)
Tuesday, July 17
it takes all kinds
Sebastian is a talker, a BIG talker, a non-stop talker and some of the things he comes up with to fill the silence are hilarious. I am not the type to dump a whole load of Sebastian-isms on all six of you who read my blog regularly - but here a few worthy nuggets:
he has replaced "yes" with "you bet!"
tofu = "toe food" (often "yummy toe food")
he has begun to say either "let's rock" or "let's rock and roll, mom" when it is time to leave.
and lastly - at the market this week he yelled a woman about to pick up a watermelon: "careful! really heavy watermelon."
He is an amazing kid, my Boo. He isn't even two and a half (and because he is short, bald and baby-faced is often mistaken as a bit younger) but he communicates so well, listens when asked to put things back where he found them (at the bank it was a pile of pamphlets, at the coffee shop* it was a plastic cup - returned neatly to the shelf, and at the post office/general store it was a whole bunch of things from shoe polish to plungers - which brought much admiration from both the man behind the counter and the throngs of older women gathered at the post office (four women ranging in age from about 50 to about 80). This all made up for his earlier anti-social behaviour - though I admit that by the time we got home I was more than ready for him to take a nap (which he did without a fuss).
This evening he and Andrew played a bit while I made dinner - something that for some reason I had absolutely no desire to do... some days five hits and the last thing I want to do is get off my butt and make food. Those are usually the days I have spent more than an appropriate amount of time on my butt already. After dinner (an improvised big salad with tofu and brown rice noodles) Sebastian and Andrew went to the park for an hour while I updated my craft blog instead of doing dishes or anything else remotely active. They then took a bath together and Sebastian came out and I put cream on his rashy bits, then a diaper and pjs - not one of which I had to get up off my butt to do. And now that they are going to bed I am still sitting exactly where I was left.
I am lazy.
Tomorrow is a new day, I have a toddler group activity that I am still debating attending (because of the rain it was moved to a kid-friendly cafe that I am not very fond of, plus I would be expected to at the very least buy a tea) - I have a much shorter list of things that desperately need doing, thanks to a few late nights and today's running around. If it is anything like today, I may just head to the laundromat, throw some boots on boo and hit some puddles between loads, pay my cell bill and rent a kid's dvd at the video store. And spend a nice afternoon putting fresh laundry away and cleaning house.
*if you are reading this and wondering why I am spending money when I shouldn't be - at Starbucks, no less - I just want to point out I got a tea and it was only because I had to buy something to use their bathroom.
he has replaced "yes" with "you bet!"
Do you want to go to the park Sebastian? "you bet!"he came out of the bathroom, clad only in a towel, chanting "toga! toga! toga!"
Would you like to take a bath? "you bet!"
Do you need a new diaper? "you bet!"
tofu = "toe food" (often "yummy toe food")
he has begun to say either "let's rock" or "let's rock and roll, mom" when it is time to leave.
and lastly - at the market this week he yelled a woman about to pick up a watermelon: "careful! really heavy watermelon."
He is an amazing kid, my Boo. He isn't even two and a half (and because he is short, bald and baby-faced is often mistaken as a bit younger) but he communicates so well, listens when asked to put things back where he found them (at the bank it was a pile of pamphlets, at the coffee shop* it was a plastic cup - returned neatly to the shelf, and at the post office/general store it was a whole bunch of things from shoe polish to plungers - which brought much admiration from both the man behind the counter and the throngs of older women gathered at the post office (four women ranging in age from about 50 to about 80). This all made up for his earlier anti-social behaviour - though I admit that by the time we got home I was more than ready for him to take a nap (which he did without a fuss).
This evening he and Andrew played a bit while I made dinner - something that for some reason I had absolutely no desire to do... some days five hits and the last thing I want to do is get off my butt and make food. Those are usually the days I have spent more than an appropriate amount of time on my butt already. After dinner (an improvised big salad with tofu and brown rice noodles) Sebastian and Andrew went to the park for an hour while I updated my craft blog instead of doing dishes or anything else remotely active. They then took a bath together and Sebastian came out and I put cream on his rashy bits, then a diaper and pjs - not one of which I had to get up off my butt to do. And now that they are going to bed I am still sitting exactly where I was left.
I am lazy.
Tomorrow is a new day, I have a toddler group activity that I am still debating attending (because of the rain it was moved to a kid-friendly cafe that I am not very fond of, plus I would be expected to at the very least buy a tea) - I have a much shorter list of things that desperately need doing, thanks to a few late nights and today's running around. If it is anything like today, I may just head to the laundromat, throw some boots on boo and hit some puddles between loads, pay my cell bill and rent a kid's dvd at the video store. And spend a nice afternoon putting fresh laundry away and cleaning house.
*if you are reading this and wondering why I am spending money when I shouldn't be - at Starbucks, no less - I just want to point out I got a tea and it was only because I had to buy something to use their bathroom.
here comes the rain again
The scorching sun is taking a short, but welcome, break this week. The forecast calls for a few more days of cool, light rain. I am not a great fan of dreary, grey days - but am currently making an exception. Currently I am sitting in my living room with the blinds open, wearing jeans *and* socks, and I am completely comfortable. No need for ice packs in my arm pits today (my new get cool quick trick).
Last Saturday we braved the heat with a few thousand other people and caught a few great acts at folk fest. It was our first festival with a toddler in tow and we were a bundle of nerves. Things that went really well: packing a good lunch for each of us (in our cool new bento-boxes), bringing money (for coffee, milk, a program, a poster, ice water, BBQ'd corn on the cob and a great bridal shower gift), bringing our water bottles and the backpack carrier instead of a stroller, planning ahead, and packing light. Things to think about for next time: forgetting to put sunscreen on the adults, not hitting the kid's area sooner, not bringing any activities for Sebastian to do while we watched the musicians. The one thing we were especially eager to see was Utah Phillips and it was definitely the highlight of the day, great stories, great music, all very inspiring. We also really enjoyed the music of Rae Spoon (solo and as part of The Trucker's Memorial), The Fugitives, Rani Arbo & daisy mayhem, and Fraser Union.
squint and you can just make out Utah Phillips centre stage - to the right is Trucker's Memorial and to the left is Fraser Union:
Sebastian was excited about these trolls until they played their drum - odd, since the kid loves all things drum:
(check my flickr for more pictures)
There were a few tense moments between Andrew and I, mostly stemming from our differing opinions on how much to control a two-year old at a concert. I am pretty laid back, I admit, and I might piss some people off - but generally, Sebastian is friendly and sweet and people enjoy seeing him have a little fun. Andrew is more inclined to control him and he gets anxious when Sebastian interacts with strangers. I totally see his side of it - I remember a horrible party last Christmas where there were a bunch of boring speeches being made (we had to stay because it was in honor of my dad) and Sebastian was running up to the front of the room and being silly, not loud, not in the way, just silly and distracting.
I was pissed at Andrew for not being there to "help me control this kid" and at myself for not bringing some kind of restraint system, I kept going to the front and trying to lure him away from the spotlight with promises of cookies and hugs - only to be faced with the option of holding a squirming, whining child or letting him down to start it all over again. This very kind woman brought me to tears by saying, simply "let him run, it is what kids do, look at how much everyone else is enjoying him" and I did look, and they were, and I left him and no one thought I was a bad mother because of it. After the speeches the Mayor came over and gave Sebastian a pin and a hug - many other people came by to tell me how sweet and cute he was. And it hit me - he is sweet and cute and most people don't hate kids as much as I assume they do.
I try not to micromanage him anymore in situations like those - I stay close, ready to intervene if the adult (or other child) seems put off, but generally let Sebastian explore and meet people and be the cute,social, friendly kid he is. I have plenty of time to make him as socially awkward as I am - no need to start now. I am also finding that relaxing and not trying to anticipate every bump actually helps me handle things when they do go a little sour - I am present and focused instead, plus my way I get to have fun!!
Disclaimer: my way does not always work - today my laissez-faire attitude left me watching helplessly from across the room as my son smacked, then pushed a little girl. Thankfully this is not normal behaviour, but as always it was unsettling and for a few moments I wondered if I should have been watching more closely (he then threw a toy at a child while I was sitting *right there* to let me know that, no, my proximity would not have any bearing on his behaviour - always so thoughtful, he is).
Last Saturday we braved the heat with a few thousand other people and caught a few great acts at folk fest. It was our first festival with a toddler in tow and we were a bundle of nerves. Things that went really well: packing a good lunch for each of us (in our cool new bento-boxes), bringing money (for coffee, milk, a program, a poster, ice water, BBQ'd corn on the cob and a great bridal shower gift), bringing our water bottles and the backpack carrier instead of a stroller, planning ahead, and packing light. Things to think about for next time: forgetting to put sunscreen on the adults, not hitting the kid's area sooner, not bringing any activities for Sebastian to do while we watched the musicians. The one thing we were especially eager to see was Utah Phillips and it was definitely the highlight of the day, great stories, great music, all very inspiring. We also really enjoyed the music of Rae Spoon (solo and as part of The Trucker's Memorial), The Fugitives, Rani Arbo & daisy mayhem, and Fraser Union.
squint and you can just make out Utah Phillips centre stage - to the right is Trucker's Memorial and to the left is Fraser Union:
Sebastian was excited about these trolls until they played their drum - odd, since the kid loves all things drum:
(check my flickr for more pictures)
There were a few tense moments between Andrew and I, mostly stemming from our differing opinions on how much to control a two-year old at a concert. I am pretty laid back, I admit, and I might piss some people off - but generally, Sebastian is friendly and sweet and people enjoy seeing him have a little fun. Andrew is more inclined to control him and he gets anxious when Sebastian interacts with strangers. I totally see his side of it - I remember a horrible party last Christmas where there were a bunch of boring speeches being made (we had to stay because it was in honor of my dad) and Sebastian was running up to the front of the room and being silly, not loud, not in the way, just silly and distracting.
I was pissed at Andrew for not being there to "help me control this kid" and at myself for not bringing some kind of restraint system, I kept going to the front and trying to lure him away from the spotlight with promises of cookies and hugs - only to be faced with the option of holding a squirming, whining child or letting him down to start it all over again. This very kind woman brought me to tears by saying, simply "let him run, it is what kids do, look at how much everyone else is enjoying him" and I did look, and they were, and I left him and no one thought I was a bad mother because of it. After the speeches the Mayor came over and gave Sebastian a pin and a hug - many other people came by to tell me how sweet and cute he was. And it hit me - he is sweet and cute and most people don't hate kids as much as I assume they do.
I try not to micromanage him anymore in situations like those - I stay close, ready to intervene if the adult (or other child) seems put off, but generally let Sebastian explore and meet people and be the cute,social, friendly kid he is. I have plenty of time to make him as socially awkward as I am - no need to start now. I am also finding that relaxing and not trying to anticipate every bump actually helps me handle things when they do go a little sour - I am present and focused instead, plus my way I get to have fun!!
Disclaimer: my way does not always work - today my laissez-faire attitude left me watching helplessly from across the room as my son smacked, then pushed a little girl. Thankfully this is not normal behaviour, but as always it was unsettling and for a few moments I wondered if I should have been watching more closely (he then threw a toy at a child while I was sitting *right there* to let me know that, no, my proximity would not have any bearing on his behaviour - always so thoughtful, he is).
Sunday, July 8
babies and lists
Before Sebastian was born we compiled lists upon lists of all the things we would need to care for him. I had taken to reading too many pregnancy magazines and between those and the various pregnancy websites I visited daily, I was convinced I knew exactly what we would need, down to which brand/series/collection. There were things we knew we didn't need, crib bedding (unsafe), change table (unnecessary), rocking chair (no space) and things we knew we would definitely need, car seat, stroller, clothes - then there was all that stuff that fell in between, would we need an excersaucer, wipes warmer, or breast pump? And all the things we thought we needed and didn't use, the bouncy seat, the high chairs, the crib, and too many silly toys.
This time around we have the benefit of being second-time parents and the blessing(?) of having much less money. We have decided to keep things simple and easy, buy things that are high quality and will last a long time, buy second-hand the things we can, worry much less about style and much more about function. We have also been putting things off until we're sure we need them - so t-minus three months, we have a stroller, a crib (that needs re-finishing) a baby bath and two sleepers. Yup, that's it. We got rid of everything after Sebastian was born (everything? yes, everything.) we were that convinced we would always be a single-child family.
This week it hit me I only have three months left until I pop a new life out into the world, it seems like forever until I think about how quickly the last months have flown by. In no time my belly has popped out, I am cranky and craving and feeling the baby move every time I stop enough to notice. We need to start planning. Now.
I think I have been putting this off in part because I have been so intent on de-cluttering our space that I am anxious about bring more "stuff" into it. I have also simply been turning the challenge over in my head - how little can we get away with getting? Also, what do we wish we'd had with Sebastian? What was totally useless?
The list so far:
This time around we have the benefit of being second-time parents and the blessing(?) of having much less money. We have decided to keep things simple and easy, buy things that are high quality and will last a long time, buy second-hand the things we can, worry much less about style and much more about function. We have also been putting things off until we're sure we need them - so t-minus three months, we have a stroller, a crib (that needs re-finishing) a baby bath and two sleepers. Yup, that's it. We got rid of everything after Sebastian was born (everything? yes, everything.) we were that convinced we would always be a single-child family.
This week it hit me I only have three months left until I pop a new life out into the world, it seems like forever until I think about how quickly the last months have flown by. In no time my belly has popped out, I am cranky and craving and feeling the baby move every time I stop enough to notice. We need to start planning. Now.
I think I have been putting this off in part because I have been so intent on de-cluttering our space that I am anxious about bring more "stuff" into it. I have also simply been turning the challenge over in my head - how little can we get away with getting? Also, what do we wish we'd had with Sebastian? What was totally useless?
The list so far:
- car seat (convertible - good from infant to booster)
- swing (portable - something that won't take up too much space)
- baby monitor (we want to splurge here and get a really good one, we would likely still use one with Sebastian once in a while (kwim?))
- diapers (organic cotton pre-folds and covers)
- wonder wash and spin dryer
- baby carriers (pouch and mei tai)
- onesies
- cloths
- towels
- blankets
- mattress for crib
- weekly cleaning service (I am only half-joking)
- electric breast pump
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