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.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
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.
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.
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