Today is one of those magical days that unexpectedly appear from time to time. I have the unexpected luxury today of not having to go in to work.
Yesterday's hard work paid off: I had gone in to the office for a few hours in the morning (with both boys too!) and worked from home in the afternoon. After dinner I scooted in to the office again to drop of the work I had done. So after doing a bit of work from the house this morning, I don't need to go in to the office at all today!
Aaaah, I can stay home.... time to relax. I switched on the TV and began watching a cooking program, flicking to a decorating program when the ads came on. Then I heard the sweetest sound - baby Andy cooing from where he was playing nearby. What was I thinking by wasting my time watching the TV? How could I possibly waste this precious day and not make the most of my time with Daniel and Andy?
Click! Off went the TV and I got down on the floor to have some playtime with Andy. We played a couple of little games. He's now having his morning nap and I'm trying to figure out what activity I can do with both boys when Andy awakens. I think a nice walk with the stroller and then some time in the back yard will be a lovely way to spend the afternoon.
I'm definitely not letting this day waste away!
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Working up the Nerve to be a Night Prowler
Recently I've discovered that I'm not particularly shy. I can actually stand up in front of a group of people and speak with confidence. For some reason though, I've been avoiding a particular plant rescue.
I get a real rush from rescuing plants from demolition sites and abandoned properties. So far I've rescued lilacs, bluebells, beautiful deep purple columbine, solomon's seal, daylilies, a flowering currant shrub and a wee boxwood. Next on my list is a Gravenstein apple tree and a pear tree. The site they're on at the moment is about to be bulldozed to make way for freeway construction. I'm quite prepared. A dwarf host tree has already been established and awaits its new grafts. Somehow I just can't seem to sum up the courage to drag the construction fencing aside and enter the property to take my cuttings.
These two trees really need rescuing. The apples are absolutely delicious, I've never tasted anything like them before. They had the perfect crunch and an incomparable sweetness. Although the pears were far from beautiful, they made a fabulous pear sauce. Soooo delicious. Oops, I've just exposed another odd side of myself - gleaning. I'll admit that I just don't understand why good food goes to waste, whether it is unpicked from the fields at harvest time or fallen fruit in empty lots. I have no shame, I quite happily gathered the fallen apples and pears then brought them home and prepared them for the family. The food tasted so good, was grown locally with no sprays or fertilizers and absolutely no fossil fuels were burned to get the harvest to my table. Love it!!!
I think I've talked myself into an evening raid of the property at the bottom of the hill. Perhaps not tonight, but in the very near future. I'll let you know how it goes.
I get a real rush from rescuing plants from demolition sites and abandoned properties. So far I've rescued lilacs, bluebells, beautiful deep purple columbine, solomon's seal, daylilies, a flowering currant shrub and a wee boxwood. Next on my list is a Gravenstein apple tree and a pear tree. The site they're on at the moment is about to be bulldozed to make way for freeway construction. I'm quite prepared. A dwarf host tree has already been established and awaits its new grafts. Somehow I just can't seem to sum up the courage to drag the construction fencing aside and enter the property to take my cuttings.
These two trees really need rescuing. The apples are absolutely delicious, I've never tasted anything like them before. They had the perfect crunch and an incomparable sweetness. Although the pears were far from beautiful, they made a fabulous pear sauce. Soooo delicious. Oops, I've just exposed another odd side of myself - gleaning. I'll admit that I just don't understand why good food goes to waste, whether it is unpicked from the fields at harvest time or fallen fruit in empty lots. I have no shame, I quite happily gathered the fallen apples and pears then brought them home and prepared them for the family. The food tasted so good, was grown locally with no sprays or fertilizers and absolutely no fossil fuels were burned to get the harvest to my table. Love it!!!
I think I've talked myself into an evening raid of the property at the bottom of the hill. Perhaps not tonight, but in the very near future. I'll let you know how it goes.
Sleeping Like a Baby
When Andy was born I felt like I got a chance for a do-over. You know, when the first time around you just didn't get it right and when you did it again you handled it much better. Well, Daniel was a challenging baby. Or should I say rather that I lacked the confidence to parent him with consistency. I thought I'd have all the answers this time around.
Let's take sleeping for an example. Daniel slept in bed with Daryle and I since we brought him home from the hospital. It was when he was about a year and a half old that I couldn't handle perching on the very edge of our bed any longer and he made the transition to a crib. In our room for the first few months of course. Heaven forbid that I could put him in a separate room.
Daniel had been what was then called colicky. He cried and cried and cried. For hours. I recall pacing all afternoon with him, handing him over to Daryle for the early evening and then pacing most of the night with him. Sometimes I had to just put him down and walk away for a few minutes to get a little breather. It was the toughest thing I've ever been through. He just wanted to be held. Constantly. At some point I picked up a very light fabric baby carrier and I carried him with me almost everywhere. We did everything together: made dinner, worked on the computer, cleaned the house, folded laundry and so on. Poor little guy had an extremely difficult time falling asleep as well. I was one of those moms that tried everything with no success. What I didn't realize was that if I had picked a method and stuck with it, Daniel probably would have become used to falling asleep in a certain way and our troubles wouldn't have been so bad.
With Daniel's crying and sleeping issues in mind, I thought that having Andy would allow me to try the mothering thing again with more success. If the boys were more similar in temperament this may have been true. Where Daniel refused to nurse, Andy has been very stubborn about taking a bottle. Daniel cried for hours and Andy, well, not quite so much. Daniel slept best when either cuddled to us or snuggled up with us in our bed. Andy, from day one, has wanted his own sleeping space. He doesn't like to fall asleep on people and won't fall asleep in bed with me.
Andy's been fighting a bacterial infection as a result of the excessive scratching of his eczema. We had a very difficult time getting the better of it. The topical cream wasn't quite effective enough for us, so he had to be put on oral antibiotics. He'd scratched his face so raw that at one point it was weeping. Of course it kept him up at night and when he did fall asleep, he would awaken in a short time because his skin was so itchy. Poor thing. Just as we had the infection under control he came down with the virus that Daniel had been fighting. For about a month now Andy, Daniel and I have been fighting the virus and at last the battle appears to have been won and we're all feeling back to our normal selves again. Daniel's energy levels are back, Andy's eating like a horse and I've finally got some energy to do some things around the house and take the boys out every now and then.
One of the nice things about returning to normalcy is getting Andy used to sleeping in his crib again. I had been putting him to sleep in his swing for the entire time he was sick. He simply couldn't lay down without coughing and the swing would help lull him back to sleep during the bacterial infection as well. Today is the first day he's taken both his naps and been put directly into his crib at bedtime. Aaahh.
I put him down for the night a couple of hours ago and wouldn't you know it - he's already stirring. I'm hoping the couple of pats and standing beside his crib will do the trick, but I don't think so. Uh-oh I hear him crying now. I'd better go and help him get back to sleep.
Let's take sleeping for an example. Daniel slept in bed with Daryle and I since we brought him home from the hospital. It was when he was about a year and a half old that I couldn't handle perching on the very edge of our bed any longer and he made the transition to a crib. In our room for the first few months of course. Heaven forbid that I could put him in a separate room.
Daniel had been what was then called colicky. He cried and cried and cried. For hours. I recall pacing all afternoon with him, handing him over to Daryle for the early evening and then pacing most of the night with him. Sometimes I had to just put him down and walk away for a few minutes to get a little breather. It was the toughest thing I've ever been through. He just wanted to be held. Constantly. At some point I picked up a very light fabric baby carrier and I carried him with me almost everywhere. We did everything together: made dinner, worked on the computer, cleaned the house, folded laundry and so on. Poor little guy had an extremely difficult time falling asleep as well. I was one of those moms that tried everything with no success. What I didn't realize was that if I had picked a method and stuck with it, Daniel probably would have become used to falling asleep in a certain way and our troubles wouldn't have been so bad.
With Daniel's crying and sleeping issues in mind, I thought that having Andy would allow me to try the mothering thing again with more success. If the boys were more similar in temperament this may have been true. Where Daniel refused to nurse, Andy has been very stubborn about taking a bottle. Daniel cried for hours and Andy, well, not quite so much. Daniel slept best when either cuddled to us or snuggled up with us in our bed. Andy, from day one, has wanted his own sleeping space. He doesn't like to fall asleep on people and won't fall asleep in bed with me.
Andy's been fighting a bacterial infection as a result of the excessive scratching of his eczema. We had a very difficult time getting the better of it. The topical cream wasn't quite effective enough for us, so he had to be put on oral antibiotics. He'd scratched his face so raw that at one point it was weeping. Of course it kept him up at night and when he did fall asleep, he would awaken in a short time because his skin was so itchy. Poor thing. Just as we had the infection under control he came down with the virus that Daniel had been fighting. For about a month now Andy, Daniel and I have been fighting the virus and at last the battle appears to have been won and we're all feeling back to our normal selves again. Daniel's energy levels are back, Andy's eating like a horse and I've finally got some energy to do some things around the house and take the boys out every now and then.
One of the nice things about returning to normalcy is getting Andy used to sleeping in his crib again. I had been putting him to sleep in his swing for the entire time he was sick. He simply couldn't lay down without coughing and the swing would help lull him back to sleep during the bacterial infection as well. Today is the first day he's taken both his naps and been put directly into his crib at bedtime. Aaahh.
I put him down for the night a couple of hours ago and wouldn't you know it - he's already stirring. I'm hoping the couple of pats and standing beside his crib will do the trick, but I don't think so. Uh-oh I hear him crying now. I'd better go and help him get back to sleep.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Popcorn
I crave popcorn. Constantly. It is like an addiction.
We have an air popper and within minutes I can have a nice bowl of yummy fresh, hot popcorn, ready to be devoured. The air popper itself is nothing special, in fact it is a rather sad affair. The glue on the top portion has come unstuck and at the slightest touch the contraption falls apart, clattering to the counter with a racket. The popcorn hopper/dumper routinely falls out of its guide holes and the metal butter melting tray is missing altogether. I use an upside down candy tin lid to block the hole (it’s quite a feat to get the hot lid back on the candy tin just after the popcorn has popped). The important thing is that the machine works.
Getting the butter melted is also rather fun. I always feel a little sinister as I stab at the block of butter trying to break off suitably sized chunks. I tried melting the butter in the upside down candy tin lid – once. The butter didn’t fully melt and what a mess it made! I couldn’t even return the lid to the candy tin right away as it needed a good washing.
So, after drizzling the butter as evenly as possible over the popped corn, then scraping the last traces of butter out of the dish using some popped kernels I give the bowl a couple of light shakes of salt. It would seem that my popcorn is ready! Hallelujah! Not quite. I can’t fully enjoy myself until the cleanup is done. I always get it over and done with prior to enjoying my treat. The popcorn maker gets whisked back up onto the shelf and the butter, salt and candy tin lid are tidied up as quickly as possible.
At last I can enjoy my bowl of popcorn!
As I’m sure any other obsessed person would do, I approach the popcorn with a particular method. The goal is to save the butteriest piece until the very last. The plain, unbuttery pieces get eaten first, and so on. Do I really SORT my popcorn? Yes, yes I do. Needless to say, this is a pastime best done alone. No sharing. How could I possibly pick up a piece, inspect it, then put it back in the bowl if I was sharing?
In my efforts to rehabilitate my eating habits I was planning on forgoing my popcorn fetish tonight, but… I think my buttery treat is calling me. Perhaps tomorrow would be a better time to begin using my willpower. Excuse me, I’ve got to retrieve my decrepit popcorn maker from the shelf…Sorry, but I won't be sharing.
We have an air popper and within minutes I can have a nice bowl of yummy fresh, hot popcorn, ready to be devoured. The air popper itself is nothing special, in fact it is a rather sad affair. The glue on the top portion has come unstuck and at the slightest touch the contraption falls apart, clattering to the counter with a racket. The popcorn hopper/dumper routinely falls out of its guide holes and the metal butter melting tray is missing altogether. I use an upside down candy tin lid to block the hole (it’s quite a feat to get the hot lid back on the candy tin just after the popcorn has popped). The important thing is that the machine works.
So, after drizzling the butter as evenly as possible over the popped corn, then scraping the last traces of butter out of the dish using some popped kernels I give the bowl a couple of light shakes of salt. It would seem that my popcorn is ready! Hallelujah! Not quite. I can’t fully enjoy myself until the cleanup is done. I always get it over and done with prior to enjoying my treat. The popcorn maker gets whisked back up onto the shelf and the butter, salt and candy tin lid are tidied up as quickly as possible.
At last I can enjoy my bowl of popcorn!
As I’m sure any other obsessed person would do, I approach the popcorn with a particular method. The goal is to save the butteriest piece until the very last. The plain, unbuttery pieces get eaten first, and so on. Do I really SORT my popcorn? Yes, yes I do. Needless to say, this is a pastime best done alone. No sharing. How could I possibly pick up a piece, inspect it, then put it back in the bowl if I was sharing?
In my efforts to rehabilitate my eating habits I was planning on forgoing my popcorn fetish tonight, but… I think my buttery treat is calling me. Perhaps tomorrow would be a better time to begin using my willpower. Excuse me, I’ve got to retrieve my decrepit popcorn maker from the shelf…Sorry, but I won't be sharing.
Bathtime
My sweet little Andy loves his baths! Much to my surprise after a night of very little sleep, today I have enough energy to give him a bath after breakfast. He’s a little overdue and smelling… shall we say… a little ripe. This coming from a mother who is olfactorily impaired (I have difficulty smelling things).
After a long stretch of being ill, I’m beginning to feel like we’re getting back into a bit of a routine. The usual routine involves giving Andy his bath twice a week as instructed by our doctor. The reason behind this is that we don’t want to dry out his skin by constantly washing away his natural body oils. I also add a little bit of baby oil to the bath to replenish any oil washed away. The result is a mixed blessing – Andy smells fantastic, even to me, but his hair always looks unclean.
After the usual routine of washing his hair and giving him a quick wash I let him play for quite a while. I sat on the edge of the bathtub, within arms reach of him, and enjoyed watching him kick and splash and play with the rubber ducky and green toy boat. His giggling and laughing were contagious, I couldn’t help but laugh along with him and clap whenever he made a really big splash. We haven’t had this much fun together during bathtime for quite a while. I wish that the camera had been handy.
After a long stretch of being ill, I’m beginning to feel like we’re getting back into a bit of a routine. The usual routine involves giving Andy his bath twice a week as instructed by our doctor. The reason behind this is that we don’t want to dry out his skin by constantly washing away his natural body oils. I also add a little bit of baby oil to the bath to replenish any oil washed away. The result is a mixed blessing – Andy smells fantastic, even to me, but his hair always looks unclean.
After the usual routine of washing his hair and giving him a quick wash I let him play for quite a while. I sat on the edge of the bathtub, within arms reach of him, and enjoyed watching him kick and splash and play with the rubber ducky and green toy boat. His giggling and laughing were contagious, I couldn’t help but laugh along with him and clap whenever he made a really big splash. We haven’t had this much fun together during bathtime for quite a while. I wish that the camera had been handy.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Pulled in All Directions
This morning I awake to my baby crying out for a bottle. I’m so tired that I try to breastfeed him. I suppose he didn’t get enough because an hour later he again awakes crying for a bottle. Ughh.
After another feed, this time a slightly more substantial one using the bottle he settles down for another brief period. I pray that he lets me sleep until 8:00am. Daryle kisses me goodbye as he heads off to work. Oh my, it’s only 6:30! Moments later Daniel, an early rising 7-year-old, comes in and asks me if he can play on the computer. “Yes, just keep the volume down.”
At 7:00 Andy no longer wants to sleep, he’s wide awake and ready to go. In his excitement to start the day the volume of his voice gets louder and louder until I can no longer pretend that I’m sleeping (desperately hoping this would make him think it is still nighttime so that he would drift off again).
Breakfast was a no-brainer. Just the usual cereal and a cup of tea. Now where should I begin tackling the day? I’ve got major, let me rephrase that, humongous, clothing issues to tackle. I need to fold and put away 5 loads of laundry, empty the clothes out of the boys drawers and cupboards that are too small, take the washed clothes that are either too big or too small for the boys downstairs, sort the clothes down there into sizes for storage or get them ready for charity, then bring the next size upstairs to be tucked away for them to use. I’m out of breath just thinking about how daunting a task this is.
Also, Daniel’s bedroom looks as though a bomb has hit. Together we need to sort through everything and organize the items he’ll be keeping. Have you ever tried to reason with a young boy about the merits of not keeping every single scrap of paper that he’s accumulated over the past year? He clings to things like pretty candy wrappers and computer print-out characters as though they’re his best friends.
Oh, and I mustn’t forget to phone and book his karate lessons, call his best friend’s mom to set up a playdate, call Grandma N to arrange a visit, and work on Andy’s busy book. Amongst all of this I’d like to get a little me-time in. Perhaps continue setting up my crafts room or lazily reading a book. No, I really should get some fresh air and work out in the garden. My beautiful, to my eyes only, garden. My oasis, my escape, my lifeline.
Knee-deep in weeds this year, it is showing a lot of signs of neglect. What with having Andy last October and not taking a break from work, I just haven’t had the time or energy to handle anything beyond the day-to-day chores around the house.
Well, I should get on with the day, whatever that will entail.
After another feed, this time a slightly more substantial one using the bottle he settles down for another brief period. I pray that he lets me sleep until 8:00am. Daryle kisses me goodbye as he heads off to work. Oh my, it’s only 6:30! Moments later Daniel, an early rising 7-year-old, comes in and asks me if he can play on the computer. “Yes, just keep the volume down.”
At 7:00 Andy no longer wants to sleep, he’s wide awake and ready to go. In his excitement to start the day the volume of his voice gets louder and louder until I can no longer pretend that I’m sleeping (desperately hoping this would make him think it is still nighttime so that he would drift off again).
Breakfast was a no-brainer. Just the usual cereal and a cup of tea. Now where should I begin tackling the day? I’ve got major, let me rephrase that, humongous, clothing issues to tackle. I need to fold and put away 5 loads of laundry, empty the clothes out of the boys drawers and cupboards that are too small, take the washed clothes that are either too big or too small for the boys downstairs, sort the clothes down there into sizes for storage or get them ready for charity, then bring the next size upstairs to be tucked away for them to use. I’m out of breath just thinking about how daunting a task this is.
Also, Daniel’s bedroom looks as though a bomb has hit. Together we need to sort through everything and organize the items he’ll be keeping. Have you ever tried to reason with a young boy about the merits of not keeping every single scrap of paper that he’s accumulated over the past year? He clings to things like pretty candy wrappers and computer print-out characters as though they’re his best friends.
Oh, and I mustn’t forget to phone and book his karate lessons, call his best friend’s mom to set up a playdate, call Grandma N to arrange a visit, and work on Andy’s busy book. Amongst all of this I’d like to get a little me-time in. Perhaps continue setting up my crafts room or lazily reading a book. No, I really should get some fresh air and work out in the garden. My beautiful, to my eyes only, garden. My oasis, my escape, my lifeline.
Knee-deep in weeds this year, it is showing a lot of signs of neglect. What with having Andy last October and not taking a break from work, I just haven’t had the time or energy to handle anything beyond the day-to-day chores around the house.
Well, I should get on with the day, whatever that will entail.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Inspired and Relieved
I have a very dear friend who is constantly amazing me. She has a lot on her plate and manages to write an incredibly thoughtful and insightful blog on top of everything else going on in her life. I am humbled. Honestly, I don't know how she manages all the balls she's got up in the air.
I have just finished reading a book that she recommended to me about Brooke Shields' journey through post-partum depression. What an eye opener! While reading it, her inner voice of post-partum depression sounded almost identical to the crummy inner voice I had listened to just after Andy was born. I can't tell you how terrifying and sickening it had been to feel the way I did at the time. I'm so thankful that I had a very mild case and managed to come through it okay. But I can understand how it is completely out of one's control whether or not they 'pull through' the darkness.
I find it difficult to admit, even to myself, how bad things had been. I recall driving along a section of River Road where many years ago a colleague from an airline I had worked for at the time, had gone off the road and drowned. The thought had occurred to me at the time that it would be so easy to just slip off the road... This was just one of many occurrences of these terrible thoughts. I will not elaborate on the others. As Brooke had said in her book, she had envisioned terrible things happening to her little Rowan, I had also envisioned terrible things happening to baby Andy. I'm just so grateful that time is over - although the post-partum depression can occur at any time during the first year after delivery. Theoretically I'm not quite out of the woods yet. My doctor questioned me about post-partum depression when I took Andy in for a checkup - perhaps I shouldn't have dismissed his enquiries so quickly. Maybe he could see something in me that I wasn't acknowledging.
Anyway, now that the lousy inner voice has stopped and my own inner voice has returned, I hope to begin functioning a bit better. If I can achieve half of what my close friend is accomplishing I'll be quite happy.
I have just finished reading a book that she recommended to me about Brooke Shields' journey through post-partum depression. What an eye opener! While reading it, her inner voice of post-partum depression sounded almost identical to the crummy inner voice I had listened to just after Andy was born. I can't tell you how terrifying and sickening it had been to feel the way I did at the time. I'm so thankful that I had a very mild case and managed to come through it okay. But I can understand how it is completely out of one's control whether or not they 'pull through' the darkness.
I find it difficult to admit, even to myself, how bad things had been. I recall driving along a section of River Road where many years ago a colleague from an airline I had worked for at the time, had gone off the road and drowned. The thought had occurred to me at the time that it would be so easy to just slip off the road... This was just one of many occurrences of these terrible thoughts. I will not elaborate on the others. As Brooke had said in her book, she had envisioned terrible things happening to her little Rowan, I had also envisioned terrible things happening to baby Andy. I'm just so grateful that time is over - although the post-partum depression can occur at any time during the first year after delivery. Theoretically I'm not quite out of the woods yet. My doctor questioned me about post-partum depression when I took Andy in for a checkup - perhaps I shouldn't have dismissed his enquiries so quickly. Maybe he could see something in me that I wasn't acknowledging.
Anyway, now that the lousy inner voice has stopped and my own inner voice has returned, I hope to begin functioning a bit better. If I can achieve half of what my close friend is accomplishing I'll be quite happy.
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