Still here

Heyyyy, folks. I figure that now that I'm pursuing a more writing-based career, I should really...write. There's just so much that has gone on, but I'll try to recap the big events since April:

• 6th wedding anniversary for DH and me
• J turned TWO at the end of June and I still can barely handle it
• On August 28, in the morning, J got tubes in his ears because it turns out that the grandparents' suggestion of actually getting an ENT to look at them proved vastly important because...he needed tubes
• On that same day, in the afternoon, my former employer let me go. Quite the day, although T pointed out that he'd rather J had a good day and I had a bad one, and I couldn't disagree
• Almost immediately after the surgery, J had a major language explosion. Roosters that formerly said "dat-dee-dooo!" now say "cock-a-doooo!" or even "cock-a-do-doooo!" Funny enough, we parents miss the first one, although we're ecstatic that he's come so far. He speaks more in full sentences and knows how to ask for things properly, although he'll still try, "Milk? Milk? Milk" on repeat.
• He also now has glasses and they look pretty cute, plus he realizes they help him see, and it's en entirely new world.
• I've started to look once again at my career path and where it will take me

That last part has remained pretty daunting for so many (obvious) reasons. As of January 1, we have to find money to pay for day care ($1000/mo) and health care -- I have supported Obama thus far, but from what we've gleaned for ourselves, "affordable care," my ass. It's all very real and very frightening. I'm fortunate to have a few nibbles as of late, and I'm hopeful that if I keep plugging and networking, something will come up. Never have I realized so fully that I'm simultaneously the master of my own destiny and at the mercy of other people: Nobody's going to give me a handout -- although we have had tremendous generosity thrown our way -- I need to reach out to anybody who can help and keep up my skills and learn new ones. Maybe I'll end up somewhere different than I had expected, but so many of us take only one path in life, that it's a bit exciting, even while it's frightening.

And I know I can do it.

Proud

I apologize for the unintentional hiatus--my friend Rachel sent me a sweet message asking how I was doing and mentioned I hadn't updated the ol' blog in a while, and I thought I'd get on it. It actually coincided with a recent thought that I, indeed, had something I felt like blogging about. Life has moved at a rather hectic pace lately, and I just didn't feel inspired/like I had the time to update, but I realized I have some very worthwhile points to throw out to my readers.

Pride has so many layers. Religion/society/your mother/yourself all tell you not to be prideful in terms of boasting. It goeth before a fall and all that. I think that's mostly with tooting your own horn--and if you've done something that's truly terrific and worthwhile, toot away. That's the other side of the coin: Pride gets such a bad rap that too many of us duck our heads and stay quiet about our accomplishments. Today I want to gush about my boys because I think they deserve it. I'm going to play the role of proud wife and mama.

To start, T has done so much, so well over the last seven months. From when his Transitions Life System program started in September, he's lost almost 90lbs. He looks fantastic and feels even better. Thank goodness for consignment shops--we have an entire wardrobe's worth of clothes to give them, and he's found some great pieces that actually fit right since his old clothes practically fall off. From that he's gained health and a self-confidence that I always knew hid somewhere inside him, waiting for the right catalyst to come forward. I find it so gratifying when T looks at himself with this expression of pleased awe; as he told me recently, he still doesn't recognize his own reflection. But he will because this is who he is. He's even signed us up for a 5K in June, something neither of us has done on foot (as opposed to a rowing machine, which is where we did most of them) in a loooooong time. I see a new light in his eyes, and I'm just so proud I could burst.

Now onto Mr. J. Sure, parents sing their kids' praises, but I truly do think J has earned them even with my significant bias. In February he had a major speech therapist diagnosis where it came out that his expressive (spoken) speech indicated a "moderate" delay (he was behind by about five months), but his receptive (understood) speech was actually ahead for his age, which told us that he understood plenty but just didn't say much. Had it been the other way around, we would have had cause for worry. He works with a speech therapist at day care twice a week, and he's made significant progress--even the therapist said so, so it's not just Mommy projecting her hopes. He's reached that stage where if one us points to something and ask him to repeat it, most of the time he'll try...and most of the time he'll come out with something recognizable as what we said. I never thought the word "waffle" could give me such excitement.

Yesterday also gave me a big reminder of how far J has come: Another boy in his class, P, on his second day there, had the sudden realization that yes, he was going to be in this new place ALL DAY and Mommy and Daddy weren't coming for him. First day was fun; second day was the reality check, poor guy. When I came in, I saw the little guy sobbing in the teacher's arms, wailing for "mama," and it reminded me of J's extremely rough transition to day care. We had two weeks where he'd cry for almost half the day and freak out when other kids touched him. Now when I drop him off, he barely has time to say "bye-bye" because he's busy with his toys or the books or his buddies. I wanted to call the parents up and assure them that their little P would make the adjustment. While of course I have that part of me that feels bad that I can't be with him, he truly has flourished from spending so much time with other kids and his teachers. Again, my heart fills with pride.

So I think I've successfully acted as cheerleader for my boys.  I've supported them and done what I could from my end, but ultimately they've done all the work.

Grandma

On January 3, my grandma M passed away. She was 97 years old with a birthday coming up in April. Every year for as long as I can remember, I've gone to her house on Christmas for the afternoon, and this past year was no exception. But this year was different. I knew as soon as I saw her that this would be the last Christmas with her, the last time I saw her. She was alert enough to receive my kiss and give me one of her own and to see her great-grandson wave at her. I unwrapped our gift to her, a framed piece of J's artwork, and put it on her dresser where she could easily see it, placed in front of the brilliant red amaryllis someone had given her. She commented on how lovely it was and how she'd never had one before. When we had to go, I hugged her goodbye and told her I loved her. She did the same. A little over a week later, she closed her eyes at home in her own bed, which was what she wanted.

As I said at her funeral, as a kid, I didn't appreciate her. What did I know; I thought she was kind of fun but old. But as my mom reminded me, she regularly took me to the art gallery: as an artist herself, she wanted me to appreciate the colors and shapes and various forms that art took. I realize now that my love of that art gallery started with her. I also remember going to lunch at a little place near where I used to live that had land and a pond in the back, and we'd always take our Saltines to feed the ducks.

Growing older, I began to see that Grandma, while still old, had a razor-sharp mind and a quick wit, which she often used to tease my father with. I didn't call or visit as often as I should have, but when I did, we always had fun and good conversation, and I knew I better brush up on current events because she certainly knew and had an opinion about what was going on in the world. She read avidly, even teaching literacy classes to adults, and we discussed books often, a trait that I believe has been passed down to J as he grabs a book and plops himself down in my lap with increasing frequency. Before I met T, I had a relationship with The Wrong Guy. At the time, we lived together in Kentucky, I had no job, and I was trying to make something work that I really just needed to walk away from. I know Grandma worried about me and wanted me to break it off, but she never quite said that. What she did say, almost every time she talked to me, was that I needed to look in the mirror every day and tell myself, "You're a good person." Although my parents might argue with me, at the time she was my biggest fan and advocate. I'll never forget that.

She raised three children alone from 1963 on, never remarrying after her husband died of a heart attack (yes?) at 42. They met during WWII in North Carolina, and as a veteran, she received a beautiful and powerful military send-off at her burial that will remain etched in my memory: The sunshine, the cold, and the silence as we watched two young men in dress blues solemnly and properly fold an American flag and hand it to my father along with three bullet casings representing Duty, Honor, and Country. The three-volley shots echoing on a January day.

At her funeral everyone spoke about Grandma's intelligence, her interest in and love for others, and the fact that she had absolute principles that didn't waver. And she'd let you know: She would always support but sometimes say, "Just so you know, I don't approve of this." I suspect I may find myself saying the same one day to my own child...and I'll have to try not to smile as I realize Grandma adds one more part of herself to me.

I will always miss her, but I will make sure to follow in her footsteps in terms of the life she lead: Unwavering principles, love of art and literature, and support of her family. Right around the time of her death, I came across something stating that instead of fearing growing old, as our culture seems to, we should embrace it: It is a gift to live long enough to grow old. It means a long life, hopefully filled with many experience and memories and loved ones to share in it all. Grandma had that in spades, and she recognized that gift every day.

Christmas will be different next year, but I know we'll spend it remembering her and making new traditions, which she would have loved and appreciated. As long as we celebrate together, she'll be a part of it all.

Relief

If you readers have followed this blog with any sort of regularity, you know that I haven't posted as much as I wanted in the past because every time I did, I felt as though I should be looking for work instead. Blogging seemed like way too much of a selfish luxury, and I didn't want to do it once T got home because then I wanted to focus on family time, or we were watching our shows together...I didn't want to shut myself off and blog because that seemed too...self-involved? (I'm working on the martyr bit.) And, honestly, I've felt as though I didn't have much to say. I could regale you with tales of J's cuteness and my improvements at housekeeping, but I wanted to have something more to share. So I stayed quiet. Maybe that was a mistake; maybe I should've made this more of a sounding board for myself, but for whatever reason, I chose not to.

However, that may well change. After sixteen months of unemployment, sixteen months of revised cover letters and resumes, of penny pinching and worrying, of figuring out just what the hell I could do for work and could accept as potential salary, of applying and not hearing or receiving generic e-mail brush-offs, of networking and reconfiguring my expectations...after all that time, I...got...a...job.

I HAVE A JOB. My official title is proofreader and copy editor.

I cannot begin to express the sweet flood of relief upon writing those words. In typical fashion, I had the interview, had a second interview, and then waited for about a week (which felt like ten years) for The Call with my phone attached to my person at all times. Tom Petty put it well: The waiting was the hardest part. I figured no news was good news, but that old chestnut had burned me before, so I tried very hard not to think about it. As a matter of fact, I ended up quite productive that week, so I got something positive out of it. Honestly, when I hung up the phone after receiving The Call, I screamed (J was playing in the other room, thankfully--how ironic to have a moment of happiness marred by scaring my child) and then burst into tears for a good ten minutes. As I said to T, I'd had this feeling of...worry? doubt? fear? a combination of all three (probably)? in my stomach for so long, I'd forgotten it was even there. It just sat there for months, sometimes driving me to do more, sometimes leading me to brief bouts of frustration with various sides of more worry, doubt, and fear. But we made it, we made it through and I plan to work my ever-lovin' butt off to prove my employer made the right decision.

I don't have illusions that this will solve all of my worries, but it sure as hell will help allay them. We still plan to live simply because that suits who we are, but at least we can start saving and look at various house improvements without the additional sigh and thoughts of "someday...". Interestingly, the fact that I've moved away from teaching doesn't make me sad. I'll miss the kids and the classroom. I always loved that, for the most part, reaching whoever I could and imparting some wisdom, humor, and kicks in the tush along the way. I'll miss the energy the students can bring and the questions they ask, whether serious or silly. But I can always tutor if I feel a need tug hard enough, and I have my own little man to teach every day. This place I'm going to work at seems to have that sort of intense energy as well; I have a feeling the pace will match some of what I'm used to. I work better under extremely defined deadlines, and having a colleague say, "I need this proofed for a meeting in two hours" fits well with the way I work. So I've managed to find a field where I can still use my skills but in a different venue. The agency, according to who I spoke with and what I gathered, seems dedicated, slightly frenetic, and passionate about what they do--a good fit for me.

More importantly, this year away has shown me that I truly value my time with my family. Time to cook and talk and spend a Sunday playing with my son or doing yoga with a friend. I have always struggled with time management, and having endless piles of grading did not play to my strengths at all. I've realized where my priorities lie; I never wanted to have to look at J and say, "Sorry, sweetie, Mama has to grade quizzes, but I'll play with you as soon as I'm done." I'll miss the vacations and the summers (and the snow days), but my day-to-day is more important to me. I'll have days where I have to stay late and only see J for an hour, and that will make me sad, but once I'm home, that time is  mine. I value that tremendously, and I have nothing but respect for the teachers I know who manage to have families and get everything else done, what with lesson planning and correcting and having a life outside of that.

Part of me wanted to give my former employer a bit of a kiss-off now that I have employment again, but had I not had this time, I wouldn't have had the opportunity to come to that conclusion. I also wouldn't have had the time with J, which I consider one of the greatest gifts possible. He would have gone into day care at eight weeks (and don't get me started on the backwards joke that constitutes the American maternity leave plan).  Instead, I got to stay with him, watch him grow, and take time getting to know him and myself as a parent. I'll never regret that. So maybe I should thank my old establishment instead, at least in my head. I'm a good person, but I'm not a saint.

What I know is that we made it, T and J and I. We had so much love and support and help from our family and friends, and it brings tears to my eyes to think of the many kindnesses, large and small, that others have bestowed upon us during this time. And we found strength within ourselves that we didn't know we possessed. We got angry and frustrated with each other, yet we came to understandings and talked and grew closer. This hasn't been easy, but our little family weathered the storm and persevered. I think I'm prouder of that than of my even getting the job.

p.s. I'm keeping this off Facebook until I get permission to bugle it to all and sundry, or at least those in my network. I read about people making that mistake, and I want to make the smarter play. I haven't even started it yet; no sense making silly mistakes before I walk in the door.

OK, round two. Last weekend we went to a pumpkin farm with my sister M, her husband C, and their darling daughter, C. We took them for the two main reasons you take toddlers to a pumpkin farm: 1) to buy pumpkins, and 2) to take tons of pictures because, really, who could resist?

                                                  Answer? Nobody. 

 

That's not distorted perspective: the place had gigantic pumpkins the size of small car tires. We loved seeing the kids examine them.

 

C adores J and won't stop hugging him. As you can see, he's not quite as enamored. Perhaps it has to do with her rather aggressive hugs, which still knock him over.

 

This picture may seem a bit unfair to J, but it's only because we know that one day he'll either hug back or finally get bigger and defend himself against her loving embrace.

 

The farm had white pumpkins called "ghost pumpkins"--I'd never seen that before. Very nice contrast to the bright orange of the others.

 

I just love the haphazard shapes and varied colors of little gourds. 

 

 

Happy fall family!

In other news, we're finally getting J tested for his speech, or lack thereof. He's a bit behind as compared to others his age, and he doesn't point very much, which I've found out also correlates to talking because it's a form of communication. After speaking to Feather Nester (she has expertise in this area) about it, we decided to get Early Intervention involved. Either they'll tell us to relax and see where he is at 18 months or they'll suggest something more to do, either one of which works for T and me. We just need some guidance. If it turns out we've made a First-Time Parenting Freak-out Move, that's fine, too. We just want to make sure J can communicate with us and others. He seems to understand quite a bit, so that makes us wonder if it's that he can talk but won't, for whatever reason. Mercifully, because we live in the school district, everything is free and they're very accommodating. I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, he seems to be settling in to day care, slowly but surely, and he's getting molars and growing and just a happy guy, which is all we want.

Sorry for the delay

OK, sooooo. Yeah. Unexpected, unintentional hiatus. Sorry.

There's no real reason for it, other than those I've written before. Every time I think of posting, I feel I should use the computer for job searches instead. Or I worry I have nothing to write about because I lead a quiet little life, mostly just me and J and a night out or two. I could bore you to tears with the wonder that I think J is, what with him almost exclusively walking now and giving me hugs and slowly starting to add more gestures and words. He climbs up and down the stairs, can get up on the couch, and has discovered the thrill of pulling books off the shelves. Whoops, there I go again.... Because of the generosity of grandparents, J starts day care twice a week next week. It'll be good for him, hard and good for me. I bet Tuesday will find me slightly blubbery, but I've wanted to get him with other little folks for a while, and this is a good way to do it.

So, I'm going to try to post more, and if you're patient and stick with me, I'll give some good tidbits.

344 and Counting

In three short weeks, J will turn one. ONE. When I look back on these last 344 days, I can't believe how much we've gone through and how much kindness has come our way. I admit when I lost my job a scant five days after giving birth, I felt absolutely terrified. The raging hormones didn't help, nor did my feeling like a complete novice as a new mother (no, nobody ever told me about pedaling/pumping poor baby J's legs to help with gas. WHY NOT?!?). T and my parents took care of absolutely everything, including T getting our health insurance taken care of in two days so we didn't lose coverage. Our parents came by daily, offering food, support, and another pair of arms. I couldn't do anything strenuous, post- surgery, so my mom did laundry, vacuumed, and cleaned when T was at work (he did quite a lot of the housework as well). My sister M and various other friends called with mommy advice and just kept me sane. I cannot begin to express my gratitude during those first few weeks, challenging with a new baby anyway, on top of the extra wrinkle added to our lives.

Since then we've made a lot of mistakes but a lot of progress as well. We've learned what we can do with and without; again, our parents have been generous with their time and support. We got creative in terms of gifts and stayed on a budget, one I suspect we'll keep to a great extent once I finally have a job. Looking for work has made me examine my other interests, as I've written before, and consider a career outside of teaching. I have definitely had (too many) "Why me?" and "It's not fair!" moments where I wondered how in God's name I could distinguish myself from the 100 applicants for the same position. If only they'd let me get to the interview portion, I could just show them. No, I don't have the exact requisite skills you want, but see how my skills I do have can transfer over? Total strangers I've met or e-mailed  through mutual connections have helped me with resumes and job suggestions; again, I feel so grateful for their help. They didn't need to help an unknown, yet they did.

I've looked at jobs I wouldn't have even considered before because personal pride simply has no place in my life right now: I need a job for financial and, frankly, social reasons. I want to start building our nest egg back up, and I've loved spending time with J. It's a gift that I'm so lucky to have had. I just need to interact with adults in a job setting again, too. I know full well that I'll look back on this time wistfully one day, but both J and I need a little socialization!

So we'll see what comes next. Immediately, my sister's wedding next weekend. I'll focus on J when his birthday comes around. This post is about me. It's been a hard year, but I honestly wouldn't trade it because it's been a wonderful year in myriad ways as well. I have my sweet boys, a wonderful family, good friends, and a lot that others don't. It's all about perspective.

Who's got it right?

Last year The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother came out, talking about how Asian mothers are superior and turn out superior children. All about discipline and no TV and threatening to withhold food until piano pieces are learned, no playdates, calling children names and the like to get them to perform and do their best. I don't personally agree with this method, but I see some of the merits, pushing children to do their best and not let them give up easily...within reason.  Recently The Today Show had a woman on who's written a new book: Bringing up Bebe: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting. This woman talks about the fact that French parents give their children quite a bit of freedom with a few strict rules that must be obeyed but don't cater to their children or insist they have a million and one lessons to do after school, that sort of thing. According to the author, French children are better behaved than the average American children.

Couple this with an article I read asking if we need an end-all, be-all book on parenting. Is there such a thing? I seriously doubt it. Why do we need to copy other countries' parenting methods? I see that each has its merits, but there's no magic bullet. You just have to do your best, use common sense, and, in my opinion, raise your children to be respectful, self-sufficient, and eager to learn and do all they can, to be the best versions of themselves possible. However, hopefully I can teach my own son that along the way he'll make lots of mistakes, and that's all right as well. I want him to be happy and kind, to try his best at what he attempts and see when persistence changes to sheer stubbornness. So I guess a dash of Tiger Mother, a pinch of French parenting, a tablespoon or two of John Rosemond for common sense, and my own instincts will have to do. I think that'll work out, don't you?

Reflections on a Year

All right, I'll do it: I'll review 2011 for myself.

January started out (no, I am NOT going to through this month by month; January had a lot going on, as you'll read) pretty eventful:  My sister had her beautiful daughter, we found out we were having a boy (on the same day!  Although I'll allow that C's birth trumped J's revealed gender), and my youngest sister got engaged.  Oh, and we got a new-to-us car.

As the year moved on, I became more pregnant and more worried about how the local budget would affect my job.  I home-schooled an amazing boy and got to give him some small semblance of a normal life before he succumbed to cancer just before Christmas.  We repainted the guest room to become the baby's room, got furniture and many lovely gifts from many lovely people, added a few new fixtures and paint colors to other parts of the house, and put car seat bases in.  I fell more in love with my husband and my new niece, gained a new respect for my sister as she tried on motherhood for the first time, and found out my other sister would have a baby in November. I also gained a new appreciation for my own mother and mother-in-law, especially, as they guided me through those first few months with J.  My friend M taught me how to change a boy's diaper without getting peed on...though J still manages to get control of the hose every now and then.

Well, budget came through, J was born and T and I became parents, and five days after that, I lost my job.  This led to scrambling desperately for health insurance, and T took on that burden alone, as I was in no condition to do anything but nurse and not walk up and down stairs.  I looked for jobs every day, went on a few interviews, and came to realize a few things:

1) Once fall hit, I realized that while unemployment was (and is) scary, I would never, ever have had this time otherwise.  I would've gone back to work with J at eight weeks old in day care, and now he's over six months and I have spent almost every day getting to know him and see him grow and change. I've used the word "serendipitous" more than I ever thought I would.  I may never have this chance again to spend time with my child, and I'm grateful for every day of it.

2) Perhaps I need to/want to do something other than teaching.  I love the classroom, but my former place of employment never felt quite right, as I've written about before. The combination of lack of teaching positions available, the knowledge that the 2012-2013 budgets for schools will tighten even more, and the sheer necessity to look at my other skills and talents has led me to believe perhaps I could do something different yet still connected to what I love.  Still waiting to see how that turns out, fingers crossed, and I have a few leads that I will pursue until someone shakes my hand and says, "Welcome aboard".  I have to, financially, and I want to, personally.

3) You can still manage to do a lot with less and remain happy.  Forced perspective is still perspective.

So motherhood has been incredible and stressful and scary and wonderful. I've made new friends, caught up with old ones, and worked hard on keeping those people in my life who enrich it and dropping those who don't.  I've gone through peaks and valleys with my husband and realized even more than before that I'm grateful every day to walk through life side by side.  Friends of mine expanded their own families and allowed me to celebrate other milestones with them.  I'd say I feel fortunate that 2011 has, for me, been the best year of my life so far.  We'll see what 2012 brings.

Resolutions?  Oh, I don't know...I feel sometimes they're these grand ideas that make us feel bad when they don't come to fruition.  But I think it's good to have goals, so I'll make a few:

• Read as many of the books on my shelf as possible.  I've had unread books there for a year or more.
• Get a job and do it to my best ability
• Stay healthy in terms of exercise and eating, but allow myself rest and treats, too
• Continue making my marriage a partnership with my best friend
• Be as good a mother to J as possible while accepting the fact that I'll have bad days
• Do things that honestly enrich my life.  Most of these don't include anything electronic.

I think that's a good start.

Christmas!

Well, I must say without prejudice that J was a STAR this Christmas.  If you have read this blog with any regularity, you know that December 25 involves The Great Christmas Road Trip because we have so many people to see, and J did very well with all the traveling.  On the one hand, I feel so fortunate that we have so many relatives to spend time with and love.  On the other hand, spending time in the car going from place to place to place gets a bit tedious.  But I try to focus on the former, not the latter.  In a few years J will want to stay home to play with his toys, anyway, so that will all change.

We went to my stepdad's for Christmas Eve cocktails.  Dad gave J his little Christmas outfit, complete with reindeer footies:

 Sister E and niece C...J is finally reaching back!

Then we went to T's mother's for dinner.  She got to feed J his dinner:

 Note the footies and Dad's "classic Grandma picture!" expression

On Christmas morning we opened our own presents.  No pictures of us unkempt in our jammies, sorry: T made breakfast and I whipped together dough because when you give the gift of bread, it helps to have it fresh.  This made for a slightly hectic morning, although we had fun with our stockings and gifts, as usual.  Then we zipped over to T's father's house:

 Grandpa loved the plaid shirt...he owns many just like it.

Next, we traveled to Batavia to see my grandmother and my dad.  Grandma adores her great-grandmother status, as you can see:

 How terrific is this wrapping paper?  I've tried not to use it anymore in my green living pursuits, but I'd use this in a heartbeat.

 Happy Papa and little J

 Hooray for this Christmas thing!  

Our last stop before heading home was my mother's with my sisters and their families, along with another sumptuous meal.

 T with the two kids

Five men and a baby

(I'll have to post the women version of this once someone sends it to me!)

Home again, home again, jiggety jig by 10:45...a long but lovely Christmas.  Hope all of you had equally nice holidays!

Stationery card (Shutterfly said they'd give me a $10 off gift card, so I've done a little advertising.)

Simply Modern Band Holiday Card

Create modern holiday cards with your photos at Shutterfly.

View the entire collection of cards.

Baby J makes his way into the world

Well, I have a few minutes here while little man is in his swing (aka The Neglect-o-matic) after feeding, so I'll finally get to write a little bit about how the last ten days of my life have utterly, completely changed...and yet it's all getting to be routine.

I was due on the 18th, a Saturday.  That day came and went.  Father's Day came and went, although I still gave T a card.  We even went to brunch in hopes that if we got out of the house, I'd start having contractions.  No go.  Doctor's office on Tuesday:  zilch.  I'd had no water breakage, few contractions, and he seemed perfectly happy to stay where he was.  So we scheduled an induction for Wednesday afternoon at 4:30.  That day we managed to distract ourselves pretty well, re-cleaning the house and wandering the mall because I knew I couldn't sit through an entire movie.  Well, we got to the hospital, I changed into a gown, they told me they were going to give me something to dilate me, and then, the ultrasound....

The resident (who seemed very capable--I know from Dr. B. that residents are, indeed, "real doctors") couldn't quite find the head.  She called in another doctor who could read them better and "wait...here's the head.  At the top.  Oh, yeah, he's feet down."  Ohhhhh, crap.  The awesome 30-year veteran nurse informed me that we could try to turn the baby and the other option was a straight c-section.  At this I began to cry, of course, out of fear and anxiety and about a MILLION hormones.  T immediately asked what the safest option was and we were told c-section.  Thankfully they hadn't given me any of that other medication yet.  However, I'd eaten a Kashi bar at 5pm, thinking I was prepping myself for labor, so we had to wait until 6:30am to actually do the surgery.  To be fair, when I spoke with my doctor, she honestly told me while she could do it at midnight, she preferred the morning so she could get a good night's sleep.  I had to agree--I preferred a well-rested doctor doing major surgery to remove a baby from me than one who'd probably be hopped up on caffeine.  Fewer chances of jittery hands.

One well-utilized Ambien and about eight hours later, I was anesthetized from the waist down (but awake--pain receptors are blocked but feeling receptors aren't, so I could feel some things) and ready to go.  T was an absolute champ, stroking my hair, holding my hand (which I could feel) and being extremely calm.  I found out later he took pictures of them weighing the baby and all those absolute firsts, and I vaguely remember seeing my mother and T's mom and stepdad right after.  The picture we put on Facebook tells it all: ecstatic father, tiny baby, and barely-post-op-already-crying mommy:

Four days later on Sunday we got to take him home, which felt almost surreal.  T drove exactly the speed limit all the way home; J slept the entire way, thank goodness.  We came home to a spotless house, flowers, and a completely full refrigerator, compliments of our families and friends.

It's been a heck of a steep learning curve since, let me tell you.  T's mother stayed over for the first three nights to help us out (and we needed it!), my friend M did the same on the night when J fussed for at least an hour and a half in the middle of the night and gave us all sorts of practical and much-needed advice (like how to relieve a gassy baby--I didn't know!  But how and why would I?), my sister M has called with all sorts of helpful advice, and my mother has been an absolute godsend, coming over every day when T is at work to help out.  For my part, it's taken a lot for me to accept the help offered because I really am not supposed to do anything but take care of myself and the baby.  This ranges from doing any sort of housework to going up and down the stairs a lot due to my surgery.  Fortunately, a mild case of mastitis the other day forced me to slow down--in particular the "flu-like symptoms" and I've finally realized that that's what needs to happen.  It also didn't help that two days after I got home, I found out I wouldn't be hired back at my current job and we had to scramble to find health insurance, but the latter's been taken care of and a job will happen, I know.  But not a good time for the old raging, rearranging hormones.  P.S. Insurance can get expensive.  Yuck.

Despite the bumps, I am totally in love with this little man.  We're already figuring out his cries and moods, what soothes him, and that formula is not the devil when used to supplement, especially when you're exhausted and sore and whipping a bottle together means your dear husband can take over one of the feedings.  We've tried to remember to give Penny extra love so she doesn't feel neglected and feels a part of the family unit.  My whole life has changed, and I wouldn't change it back for anything in the world. I never knew I had the capability of this much love...of my husband and my son.  (P.P.S. writing those last two words did indeed choke me up.)

Oh, boy....

Item 1: Good thing I didn't take a picture of our new bedroom light because T has whacked his head on it several times, so it's moving to my office and we'll get one that's more flush to the ceiling.

Item 2: MY SISTER M HAD HER BABY YESTERDAY!!!!! Hah! I totally fooled you about the mundane nature of this post! Baby girl C is absolutely beautiful and already lifts her wee head up and looks strikingly like my sister. I will post pictures ASAP. I have a ton. On another note, I sincerely hope my labor goes as well and quickly as M's did. Everyone looked elated and a bit tired, as one would expect.

Item 3: We're having a boy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We meant to wait until we got to dinner to open some silly envelope, but please. We had to know then and there. Fortunately his little bait and tackle were right there to see. Now I just have to compromise with T, who wants to paint the baby's room in Buffalo Sabres colors. :-)

Never did a Monday hold so much utter and complete happiness.

Pictures to follow!

Oh yeah, this blog

I just have so much to tell, that I'll try to give a shortish version. As my father said, my last few actual posts have included a lot of...creativity because I'd kept something to myself that I wasn't ready to reveal. Therefore, I should probably start with that:

I'm pregnant. YES, I AM. Most of my readers already know this, but some of you may not, so there you go. I'm almost four months along and have a bit of a tummy, which is nothing compared to my sister M, who's due in about three WEEKS and looks like she's smuggling a basketball around. We took pictures together over the holidays and I mainly just look like I need to exercise more, but I know it's a BABY. T and I had the first trimester ultrasound and saw it moving and sucking its thumb and wriggling around. To quote Ragu (or is it Prego? HAH! That would be so funny if it was Prego), it's in there. So we're terrified and excited and in June, our lives will forever change. So that's pretty exciting, to say the least.

Other than that little tidbit, just life. I meant to post during our snow days about a month ago but I just couldn't get myself into it, for some reason. There was always something else to do. I don't know if it's nesting or what, but I've finally started to really, truly keep the house more organized on a more consistent basis, utilizing that nursery school mantra of "a place for everything, and everything in its place". I now mentally think, Does that shirt belong there, or hung up/in the hamper, hmmm? I have confused poor T on several occasions when I "cleaned up" (IE threw away) something he needed. But there are at least two loads of laundry sitting patiently in the basement waiting to be folded, so some things haven't changed.

We had a lovely holiday with family, who bestowed us with generous and thoughtful gifts, love, and more food than we could handle. Perfect. Even though this particular holiday included my grandfather passing away, Dad still had a good time and commented on the circle of life: He's got three grandkids and two on the way, and Grandpa's death wasn't unexpected. But I know he felt especially happy to have all of us there. Unfortunately, Christmas night ended abruptly for T, who caught an 18-hour bug which I then got yesterday. It was NOT pregnancy related. Trust me. Thank God for oatmeal. Penny also took it upon herself to snuggle with each of us during our bedridden stages, which truly did help.

Now, I just want to reiterate even before the beginning of the year how grateful I am for the dozens of little kindnesses that have come my way: congratulations from many, an unexpected Christmas card from former students, gifts for Penny, calls from friends about everything and nothing, silly e-mails that made my day, a giant bottle of ginger ale and a tummy rub yesterday from T, maternity clothes from my neighbor, and others I can't even think of. I have many, many reasons to smile during this time of year (and most other times, really). I'll try to post more often, too. Maybe it'll be one of my resolutions.

So if I don't post beforehand, have a wonderful New Year's Eve and try to look back on everything that happened to you in 2010, good or bad, and I bet (I hope!) you'll find that you had a good year. I know I did.

Pictures

Here's the deal: Now that it's almost May, the end of the school year will come on with great, hurtling force, so my already-sporadic blogging may well become even more so. I will do my best--truth be told, I'll probably need to post just to keep sanity.

In the meantime, as promised, a random assortment of pictures:

This was what I came down to on my birthday from my dear husband.

Our new indoor-outdoor rug--made completely from recycled plastic bottles! Not kidding--it ROCKS.

The greenie decided to get bags to separate glass from paper from metal. Unfortunately, the trash collectors made off with the orange one, even though I'd put our address on there. They probably just THREW IT AWAY, TOO.

Ohhhh, gracious--this was my sister and BIL's Christmas present to us-- pancake making apparatus!

Banana pancakes! Yeah!

Raisin bread for Grandma--when you turn 95, you get whatever you want. This was what she wanted. :-)

me, Grandma, my aunt Deborah

Oh, and our anniversary dinner--thanks for the help, Yum! We decided instead of going out, we'd cook something we don't usually, so I made stuffing to put in our yummy grilled quail.

Preparing the quail

...grilled with a bit of olive oil and rosemary

...and jumbo shrimp, baby! Oh yes, and a salad, but that wasn't quite picture-worthy

I am an extremely lucky person.

Birthday

Well, yes, I had a birthday last week. It was lovely and fun and I totally forgot to take any pictures except one of my mom and T, so when he gives me back the camera, I'll post it. But I had a great dinner the Sunday before, cooked specially by T.: a buffalo steak, Israeli couscous, and asparagus; the last two being special favorites. We also had a delicious bottle of wine, the name of which escapes me now, but I will get it. Promise. Wow, no pics and no wine--this post is not informationally sound.... He also got me a gift that's really for both of us, an iPod nano. This means we don't have to argue when we go to the gym about who gets the iPod, so it's the gift that keeps on giving. I had great extended birthday with a delicious dinner at one of my favorite restaurants (The Left Bank, for those who know it) with our parents--just a very nice, low-key time. I even had a colleague bake me cookies, even tastier because they were unexpected. There's something about unexpected cookies. Basically, so many wonderful calls, texts, cards, and e-mails and other acknowledgments of my birthday really made it a great one.

For about 90 seconds, I got a little...negatively pensive this birthday. I'm not where I thought I'd be at this age--I think I figured I'd be a little further along in the whole family path and more secure in my job. And then I thought, Let's see...I am fortunate enough to have an excellent, secure marriage, a nice house, a sweet dog, a fulfilling job, loving family and friends, health, and so much more... so I think that I'm doing quite well. To think anything else is foolish and ignoring all the wonderful parts I have in my life.

So happy birthday, me.

Oh yeah, I have a blog (and happy belated Valentine's Day)

See, I'm trying to concentrate more on getting my work done during the week so I can relax on weekends, so I don't blog a lot during the week. Then I relax on the weekends, and I forget to blog.

However, this week I'm on break, so in between studying for my upcoming certification exam and getting a super fun, 24-hour stomach bug yesterday that had me eating nothing but white rice and feeling wretched on the couch, I thought I'd get some blogging done. I am feeling much better, thank you.

This past weekend we celebrated Valentine's Day by going away for the night to the same B&B that T took me to when we got engaged. We haven't been there since, so considering that was almost four years ago, I took it upon myself to book the room again. Such a nice little place, and it was only 40 minutes away in Lewiston (about as close as you can get to Canada without crossing the border), an historic little town with lots of charm and wineries nearby. Perfect. Plus this time T wasn't incredibly nervous--remember, he was about to propose--and I wasn't incredibly sick. Yes, in case you didn't know, about two days before we went away for my birthday weekend/engagement weekend, I became sicker than I had been in YEARS. This greatly helped T because I wasn't alert enough to notice he was acting odd. Anyway, it was a lovely weekend--plus sneaky T had a dozen roses waiting for me in our room. He does like the flowers. AND he wrote me a little poem. For all of those people out there who say, "Well, wait ten years/twenty years. You won't get that stuff any more," please, please shut up. Let me enjoy my flowers and poem. I'll find out if you're right or not on my ownty-own.

We just had a nice dinner out and then a glorious breakfast, cooked by the owner of the B&B, who's also a friend of ours. It was a perfect little getaway, and Penny was extra glad to see us when we returned. Then the next night we went to women's roller derby, which is a ton of fun. The place is packed when they have their bouts (that's what they call the matches) and I have to say, as I posted on Facebook, there's just something about watching women on roller skates knock each other over that captivates me. Plus we got to cheer for our friend M, as it was her first bout. They all have derby names, like Ivanna Killem and Claire Violence, and they wear fishnets along with their uniforms. It's awesome. If you come to visit me, we'll go.

You know, I've had nice Valentine's Days and crummy ones and non-celebratory ones, and what it all comes down to is that you're with someone you love, no matter whether it's romantic or not. T and I did it up for this one, but we're pretty low-key and would have been happy with just a fire and the couch. For me, it's more the acknowledgment that I'm so fortunate to have those who love me that I can't even believe it, sometimes. I got a card from Mr. Ouiser thanking me for being such a good friend--I almost burst into tears, it was so sweet. My mom sends multiple cards. My dad always sends something from a "secret admirer". So I'm pretty lucky and I want to extend that love to YOU, folks. LOVE!

p.s. I also love the Olympics. And baking cheese bread. Recipe to follow--it is SO EASY.

Stolen Time is Good Time

Well, my class got out an hour early, and I'm waiting for my sister to take a shower before we go to dinner, so I've got a few minutes. Been CRAZY busy and woefully neglectful of my blogging duties.

I think the biggest life change is that we finally dumped my trusty old Daewoo (referenced in the bizarre and funny movie Pineapple Express) and went to Indiana two weekends ago to take my grandmother's even trustier Buick LeSabre off her hands. We haven't officially gotten rid of the 'Woo yet--because it's technically a salvage (damaged in the October Storm of 2005 and fixing it cost more than the value of the car, which tells you something), the dumb DMV never sent me my title back, so I will get it in six to eight glorious weeks. Hooray. At this point, we'll take any money we can get for it.

So we flew to Indianapolis and stayed at my grandmother's retirement place, which in my eyes is pretty nice, though she says the construction is a little bothersome. She's 91 and sharp as a razor--man, with my two grandmas as lucid and together as they are, I am SET. We had a lovely weekend despite the fact that the brake line was rusted through and my thankfully charming husband managed to find a mechanic who was 1) semi-open on a Saturday afternoon and 2) willing to help us. Truly, they didn't have to and they fixed our brake line for $100. Oil-covered angels they were, and I mean that. Thus we had a friggin' palatial ride home--lots of room, cruise control, and it didn't feel like the slightest gust of wind would blow us off the road, which I have too often felt in the 'Woo. T is a little envious of my sweet ride, but I'm not giving it up. Plus she sold it to us for $1 because she had to have us pay something--I don't think you get a better deal than that. All in all, we had a hugely successful visit on all fronts--lovely visit with Grammie and a nice car to boot. Not a bad weekend, all in all.

I gave in to the 21st century

I got a Blackberry. I love it. I'm addicted.

I did it for the Internet and the calendar: I tend to forget appointments and the PalmPilot never did work for me because I always forgot I even had it. If it's attached to my phone, there's much less likelihood I'll forget it. At least, that is my plan, and at an extra $30 a month, you bet your sweet patootie I'll remember it. This also means I'll spend less elsewhere to make up the difference, so it's really a very economical move I've made, you see. I am not sending this entry from my Blackberry, but I'm sure I will later on, just because I can. Ah, toys.

On a totally different note, my friend H. is technically due today, so wish her luck on a smooth delivery and a happy baby!

Thankful

It's Thanksgiving morning, we're pulling a last-minute Louie realizing that cooking two different-sized turkey breasts is NOT the same as cooking one turkey, and I'm frantically searching the Internet hoping to find some advice.

UPDATE: We figured it out. Kept the bigger breast at room temp and the smaller one in the fridge, still brined them both, and used the recipe Toddler Tamer gave me last year to once again make smashingly good turkey. Everything took longer than we thought it would, but isn't that par for the course on Thanksgiving?

We had a delicious dinner at my parents' home: Eighteen humans and three dogs. All ate quite well and had a fantastic time. We had Mom and R, T's parents, my sisters E and M and M's husband C (Einstein, wait--?), M's in-laws (including her BIL and SIL), another family who didn't want to have just the four of them around a lonely table, and one medical resident whose plans to sit alone and watch TV changed when my stepdad invited her. She remained fairly quiet until I said the magic words "I love Stephen King". Then she perked right up. And a partridge.... Ohhh, the mashed potatoes! Ohhh, the stuffing using my parents' 30+ year-old recipe! Ohhh, the three kinds of pie! How fortunate I felt to need an elastic waistband on my pants.

Friday had me in bed all day with a crummy cold, but I again felt so thankful not to spend it slogging through work and sucking it up. Much better to finish my book and have a toasty warm puppy there with me!

I don't care if it sounds cliche'; I felt so thankful this past weekend to have so many places to go, to have people who love me sending me messages and giving me hugs, to sing with my choir on Sunday, to spend time with my family, to have the things that I have. I'm very blessed and lucky and fortunate at the same time (someone pointed out that being "fortunate" means you earned what you have, as opposed to "luck"), and I hope I don't take any of it for granted. I probably do, but I try to allow myself at least one reminder a day of what I have.

And now we put in a scant 25 days until Christmas. How did this year fly so quickly?