Poop Puke and Tears

I've been wondering if one of the reasons why I've been having such a hard time blogging these days is because I'm not really identifying with the "working mother" aspect of it right now. The intent of the blog was to highlight issues relating to working mothers, both in my home life and in popular culture. I was still working on bringing it all together and now that I'm at home it feels like I've lost that focus completely. I don't assume that you want to read about how many diapers I've changed today (6), how many times I've been spit-up on (3) or how many tantrums I've dealt with (4), but it seems like most days that's my life. Poop, puke and tears.

Don't get me wrong: I love being home with my kids. In between the poop and puke there are moments of true discovery, like today when Mia started reaching out to touch one of the toys on her playmat for the first time. And part of me is very comfortable with domesticity. Both my husband and I agree that I've taken to motherhood and being at home more than either of us expected. I'm still working, but it's a different kind of work.

I hope to get my focus back soon. I think the time has come to start laying the groundwork for what I want to do when it's time to earn some real money again. Not too soon, but I want to be prepared.

Where to Begin

This afternoon I should have spent some time cleaning out my closet. Instead, I've spent an hour and a half here at the computer, checking my email, Facebook, and doing a bit of surfing. There was a purpose to all of this - it was directed surfing, or research, if you will - but it still feels like I wasted an afternoon.

I hate that feeling. There is so much to get done around the house that I think I'm nearly paralyzed by it all, but then I remind myself that my baby demands to be held nearly 80% of the time and there is only so much one can do with one hand. For example, this post? Typed with one hand. Cleaning the closet? I need at least two hands to take all this stuff to the recycling and/or trash bin.

I think I would feel more useful if I took a nap.

It's About Time

I just read over my last post and laughed. Here, I thought that I would have at least one day to get ready for the new baby, but that night my water broke (just after Glee - good timing!) and at 6:34pm on November 26, Mia Joy Chrusch joined our family.

That it's taken me until now to find a moment to update my blog to tell you about it should tell you something about the chaos that has since engulfed our house. It's wonderful chaos, but it's still chaos. Murray has said more than once that he figures two kids is all he can handle...although yesterday he said that if we do have more kids it will have to wait until these two are significantly older.

So there you have my New Year's Resolution: no babies (Gavin was born in 2008, Mia in 2009). I love my kids more than anything, but three babies in three years does not a happy mother make. Plus, dad will probably high-tail it out the door.

It didn't help matters much that Mia has been hospitalized twice for jaundice. Once was shortly after she was born, the other was on December 27. So far she seems to be okay - despite the insistence of various health professionals, my breast reduction eleven years ago did affect my milk supply and we should have been supplementing her with formula from the start, rather than have me spend a good twelve-fourteen hours/day for over a month trying to nurse her. After she was hospitalized again last week, we finally saw a pediatrician last week who just shook his head at the advice we'd received and told me to feed that girl formula, now. I'm still breastfeeding as much as I can, but after she gets what she can from me I'll give her a bottle to top her up. While it took nearly three weeks of me nursing for Mia to return to her birth weight (6lbs13oz), since last Sunday she's gained nearly a pound and we are all much, much happier.

To further complicate things, Mia and I were in a car accident on our way to her first doctor's appointment at the beginning of December. Our car was rear-ended and I have some pain in my lower back that I'm getting treated by a physiotherapist. So not only did I still have a new baby and Christmas to get ready for, I also had to deal with insurance companies and not being able to walk properly and trying to get my car fixed. It was, in short, the longest month ever.

But it's been pretty great too. Mia is a wonderful baby and Gavin has been a great big brother. The thing about newborns though is that they are demanding, and right now mine is demanding that I feed her. I would promise that my next post won't be another month away, but given recent events I'm not even going to go there. We'll see.

Holidays!

Tomorrow is my last day of work before starting maternity leave.

Thank God.

Of course, I'm just over a year removed from my last mat leave so it's not like this is something totally new. Not to mention that only working three days/week for the past five months means that I'm only getting three more days of holidays. Seriously, my plan is to sit around and eat candy and watch HGTV and hope the kids can entertain themselves until Murray gets home to make them supper.

In reality, I am exhausted just thinking about having two little kids to take care of. Then again, that might be because I'm so tired all the time right now I can't imagine what it's like to feel really rested. (And I'm not doing myself any favors either. As a case in point, I should be in bed right now but instead I'm waiting up so I can watch my own personal happy hour: Glee. I know that watching TV shows right at the time they come on is quickly becoming an antiquated concept, but we are a PVR-free household. And it's not like it's Desperate Housewives or something. It's Glee. But I digress...)

Even though this maternity leave will be a lot busier than my last one, I'm hoping to use the time to complete a few projects, and really try to figure out what I need to do so that I'm living the best life possible. Looking over that last sentence, maybe I should make a pitch to take over for Oprah. Most importantly I want to use this time to really enjoy my kids. My last mat leave started out okay, but by the time I kind of figured out what this "Mom" job really entailed, I had to focus on such trivial tasks as "Find a New Job" and "Move to Different City".

I have big ambitions for what I'd like to accomplish this time around, but I'm realistic. There will be days when simply having a shower will be a huge accomplishment. And that's okay. As long as I can have a nap when it's over.

Waiting

One of my favorite books is Oh the Places You'll Go by Dr. Suess. Like millions of others, I received a copy for my high school graduation and although it's almost cliche by now, it's message really is appropriate.

One paragraph in particular has been resonating with me lately:

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long and wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most usless place

The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.

Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

I feel like at work I've just been waiting for it to be over (only three more days!) and at home we're just waiting for the baby. Sure, there is stuff to do in between, but it's hard to shake the feeling that everything is on hold until these two things happen, at which point I can start to get on with my life again.

And that's really too bad, because part of me knows that I should be trying to enjoy my last few days at work, or at least spend more time visiting with people that I might not see for awhile. I should also be enjoying these last few weeks of it being just the three of us here at home, not to mention paying more attention to the miracle that this pregnancy represents. It's like I'm so anxious to get through it all that I'm not taking any time to experience the moment. I need to "find the bright places where the boom bands are playing".

Maybe tomorrow.

Gratitude

This past Monday morning Gavin still had his cough, so I decided to take him to to the Medicentre. As I'd thought, it was nothing but I was still glad I went. I don't know what it says about the state of health care here in Alberta that when I arrived at the Medicentre 45 minutes before it opened, there were already about 12 people lined up in front of me. Thankfully I only had to wait about half an hour to see someone once we finally made it inside. Everyone is just so paranoid and panicked.

Last night Murray and I finally got around to watching a movie together. It has been several months since the last time that happened, and I'm not talking about going to the theatre. I mean, it's been several months since we managed to flip through the Shaw on Demand menu. Usually by the end of the week we're both too tired to stay awake for anything.

The movie we watched was Sam Mendes' Away We Go, starring Maya Rudolph and John Krasinski as Bert and Verona, a couple embarking on parenthood, worried - as are most parents - that they are in way over their heads. As they travel around the country (and Montreal!) they realize that they are in much better shape than most of their friends and family, and while I don't know that the worry that you are going to mess up your kid really ever goes away, by the end of the movie they make peace with the fact that they can just do their best and hopefully that will be enough.

One of the couples that Bert and Verona visit are some old college friends now living in Montreal. The friends have adopted several children and appear to be living as a happy, well-adjusted, mini-UN kind of family. We find out later that the wife/mother has just suffered her fifth miscarriage, and realize, along with Bert and Verona, that appearances can be deceiving.

Fortunately, I have never had to experience a "true" miscarriage. Technically I had one, but because it's doubtful that the pregnancy was viable I'm not quite sure how to classify it. (As an aside, I will vigourously debate anyone who says that you can't be just a "little bit" pregnant. Oh yes you can.) I know that out of five embryos we had one healthy baby, and I grieve that loss. I also know that the feeling of utter helplessness will never totally leave me; it's there every time I see or read a portrayal of a couple dealing with infertility, a constant reminder to be grateful for everything I have and a reminder of how it could have totally gone the other way.

I'm ready to meet our new baby. There's just six weeks or so left before s/he's due to come. To think that three years ago, I really didn't know if we would ever be able to have a family and now we're going to have at least two children. I can't do anything but give thanks.

To Be a Good Parent

This past Monday, Gavin and I stood in line for over 5 hours to get the H1N1 vaccine. After reading pretty much everything I could get my hands on, and hearing several stories of what could happen if either of us did catch H1N1, it was a no-brainer. Whatever potential side effects there might be from the vaccine (and so far = none), the real possibility of severe illness or death far outweighed the those theoretical risks.

I know a lot of people who are still choosing not to get the vaccine, despite all of the evidence that it's safe. Of course, it is their right to make the decision that they feel is best for their child. It may be that either or both of my children will experience side effects as a result of getting the vaccine. I would hope that if that happens, that they understand that I made the decision I thought was best for them given the information that I had.

And I suppose that last sentence sums up what parenthood is and why it can be so scary. It doesn't take much searching to find stories of adults who were forever scarred by their parents and sometimes a seemingly innocuous decision can come back to haunt you forever.

Right now Gavin has a cough. I'm pretty sure it's not the flu because he's not displaying any other symptoms, but he's had it for a few days so I think we should get it checked out. I called our family doctor today to see if we could get in, but his next opening wasn't until November 9. I decided to go to the Medicentre but the wait at that time was over 2 hours so we left. I keep checking on him regularly to make sure he's still breathing, that he's not becoming short of breath or developing a fever, any of the signs that it might be something more serious. I hope I'm not doing him further damage by not getting him examined by a doctor, but I'm trying to use common sense too.

I'm using the information I have to try to make the decision that would be in his best interests. I just hope it's enough.