Adventures in Motherhood

location: Bakery

mood: pensive

music: Barenaked Ladies - shuffle on iTunes

Just a quick post to say that I'm finally done with my academic year responsibilities!  With the summer ahead of me, I feel overwhelmed at the notion of "free time" and also like I don't actually have free time.  Maybe to start things off, I'll document the "wish list" of things I want to do or accomplish this summer.

In no particular order:

• Reorganize my teaching files so that I don't have such a digital mess come Fall.  I've set aside 1 day each week to work on this task.
• Prep my new course for the Fall.  I will do this on the same day I'm supposed to be organizing.
• Declutter the house.  Kind of a vague task, but mainly I want to go through my closet and maybe even those boxes of sentimental things to see whether I really need to keep things.  I probably should reevaluate the daily clutter too and see whether I can get rid of things we don't use.  I just feel this need to streamline or simplify.
• Enjoy my kids.  I want to keep Caleb busy with activities and really enjoy this time with him.  I'm hoping that he can be enrolled in some swimming class at our local pond since the YMCA classes seem to fill up on the first day (which is when I turn in our registration form).  I want to enjoy figuring out how to balance both my kids' needs/wants.
• Cook more.  I want to learn how to cook more meals as part of my effort of eating better and providing better food for my family.
• Move more.  I want to make working out a more regular activity.  I've been a bit scattered about it even after putting it on the calendar.  Must figure out how to make movement a more regular part of my day. 
• Read more.  I want to start reading the books I think I should have read a long time ago.  Classic books that everyone else "had to read" for school or whatever.  Feel free to recommend some!
• Stay connected with Aaron.  We seem to be falling back into our pattern of living our own lives and forgetting at times that we live with each other.  We're not having problems.  I just want to feel more connected and happier together.

Do these goals seem unreasonable?  I don't know.  Sometimes I think these should be givens, but other days I think they are completely unattainable.  How do you want to spend your summer?

Tags: life

Posted at 03:37 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: amused

music: napping children

Since my last post, my family has planted 10 pots of vegetables, 2 blueberry bushes and several strawberry plants.  Caleb and Aaron dutifully water our new additions daily, unless it rains a lot.  Every day we check the pots and the berry plants for signs of hope/growth.  We never have planted our own food before.

This past week has been a roller coaster of emotions as far as gardening goes. 

Day One - Pesky squirrels attacked the 1 of the 3 pepper plants.  After the squirrel attack, Aaron bought chicken wire without a plan for how to use it.  Caleb was SO excited to use chicken wire (who knew?).  When it was obvious to me that Aaron was not building a squirrel deterrent, I went to investigate.  He and I argued about the chicken wire, with my very mature concluding argument of "Just put up the magenta chicken wire already!" 

Magenta, you ask?  Yes, magenta.  Rather than say any number of expletives in front of Caleb who is a walking echo machine, I chose to use actual colorful language instead.  Caleb stopped in his bouncing tracks and backed me up, "Yeah Daddy!  Put up the damn chicken wire already!"

Our neighbor was pushing his daughter on our swing set at the time.  Charming.

Day Two - Sprouts!!  Yes, despite the squirrels' best efforts we have sprouts.  Some of the vegetables, like the aforementioned pepper plants, we planted from seedlings.  Some of the vegetables, like pole beans, we planted from seeds.  The pole beans and cucumbers sprouted!  We were thrilled. 

Aaron replanted pepper plants with newfound optimism.

Being silly humans, our vegetables remained vulnerable to squirrel attack due to the lack of deterrent.  I did yell at the squirrels during my picnic lunch with Caleb, but apparently squirrels could care less.

Day Three - Squirrel attack.  This time, the squirrels utterly destroyed 2 of the 3 pepper plants and left a delicate bite mark on the third otherwise healthy looking plant.  It was like they were sending us a message - "Protect your plants or we'll take them all."  The evil rodents (yes, they are rodents.  Wikipedia says so. *smirk*) also sampled my dear pole beans though I still have hope for them.

Aaron talked with our neighbor J who just tore down the squirrels' condo, also known as his front porch.  Aaron joked that he didn't appreciate that J's squirrels had eaten our vegetables.  J is a man of few words.  J's wise advice?  "Shoot 'em."

I yelled some more at the squirrels, in duplicate thanks to Caleb.

Aaron returned to Home Depot to find a possibly more effective solution.  We now have 10 pots of potential vegetables surrounded by plastic netting.  I don't trust this netting one bit.  I think the squirrels will burrow or squirm their way under the netting or perhaps gnaw their way through the plastic or the wire ties holding the netting together.  I'm telling myself that this is a learning experience, so let's look at lessons learned, shall we?

Lessons Learned from Backyard Garden:

• Planting several pots of same vegetable is good insurance but also good advertising to the local riffraff.
• Not putting up some kind of deterrent is naive at best, stupid in reality.
• Speaking expletives in code does not fool the 3 year old, given enough context.

On that last point, any tips for expressing oneself fully without using a potty mouth?  Successful expletive codes?  Stories of how you taught your kids when/where to use "bad language?"

Tags: family, life

Posted at 03:41 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: busy

So I left all 3 of you hanging last time.

The big news is that one of my dearest friends got a job after 10 years of graduate school.  He's about to become a rabbi, and he'll make a damn fine one if I may say so.  He had several interviews, despite a crummy economy, and actually had to make a choice between a local job (in which he would have been my boss - a tad bit weird) and a job that is about 2 hours away.  He chose the 2 hour away job.  I'm excited for him now that I've had time to process and whine about not seeing him and his wife nearly enough. 

So there you have it.  My big secret - ha! 

May the road always rise up to greet you, friend.

Tags: life

Posted at 02:36 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: content

No, I'm not pregnant.

I just haven't posted in a while.  I mean, it took me nearly a month to write about my own son's 3rd birthday.  I can only imagine what he will tell some therapist about me when he is an adult.  Or even when he is a teenager, for that matter.

As April nears its end, I realize we have survived another winter.  Not that winter is such a hardship in our modern times, but I have a sense of making it through all the same.  Caleb's birthday came at the beginning of spring, according to the calendar and moon cycles.  Ellie's birthday may give us hints of summer.  In between, we acknowledged Passover, enjoyed a family get-together in Montreal, and continued with our regular busy schedules.

Preschool had been weighing heavily on me for a while.  Caleb has been going to a preschool daycare since he was a toddler.  I was very happy with his toddler room experience, but his preschool experience has not thrilled me.  I suppose no harm, no foul BUT I would like to feel like I'm getting what I want for so much money.  We toured several preschools in the area; I fell in love with one that had a completely unrealistic schedule for us.  In the end, we signed Caleb up for the YMCA preschool.  We felt that it would be a better match for his need for activity, and it is definitely a much better price.  We decided to take Caleb out of preschool over the summer in order to make a really clean break and also to save money.  I don't work in the summer, so it doesn't make sense to spend money that isn't coming in.  I think our plan for the summer is to sign Caleb up for classes at the Y and figure out some regular activities like hiking in the woods and having a weekly playdate with one of his good friends.  The Y classes filled up on the first day of registration, but our town pond offers swim lessons starting in June, so we'll try to sign up for those.  Just thinking about the different possibilities of activities makes me feel like summer is too short!

Another topic which seems to keep brewing in my mind is how to balance my teaching goals with raising my family.  When Ellie was still very little, I had an easier time working on teaching preparations while she slept.  As she approaches 1 year old, I find that it is next to impossible for me to shift gears mentally to teaching prep EVEN when she is napping (like right now!).  By the time both kids are in bed, when I usually can shift out of "mom mode," I'm exhausted and can't focus enough to get more than laundry or other chores done.  Maybe I should think of teaching prep as a chore?  Now that's a depressing thought!  

Anyway, I'd like to be able to organize some of my past curricula and plan my fall teaching over the summer.  I'm not sure how to structure my days so that I can carve out work time for myself.  Do I want to work a little each day?  Do I want to have one long day to get work done?  I just don't know.

Last but not least, I've started exercising at the Y.  I had to take a week off thanks to an unexpected bout of strep throat (mine and not the kids, go figure), but I'm going back tonight.  I usually just use the elliptical or stairmaster machines, and I'm surprised how much I enjoy it.  I plug in my iPod and basically get into the zone.  I've never been a fan of exercise for exercise's sake, so I guess I really have been craving alone time if I enjoy exercise!  I don't have any concrete goal in mind with the exercise.  I'd like to be a bit smaller - say from a size 14 to a size 10 - but I don't have a specific weight loss goal or an item of clothing I want to be able to wear.

Now that I think about it, I guess my going to the Y is part of my recent shift to eating more whole foods and fewer processed foods.  I've been enjoying cooking much more than I used to - it feels like I'm creating something useful and powerful when I cook.  I'm not necessarily a great cook, but the food I make is tasty.  I read a few books about food - the very popular Michael Pollan books and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Kingsolver.  Those books made me reconsider what I put into my body and why.  I can't say that eating better quality food is doing anything for making myself smaller/thinner, but it does make me happier not to eat as much processed crap.  I feel more connected to the process of food when I'm eating something that I can understand.  As for the exercise connection, I feel like I'm giving my body a chance to do what it is meant to do - namely, move - when I go to the gym.  Sure, using exercise equipment isn't the most natural way of getting movement into my life, but it's a reasonable substitute for the otherwise largely sedentary lifestyle.  And maybe eating better food and getting exercise will set some kind of good example for my kids.

There is one more thing on my mind, but that post will have to wait until later when I know I'm at liberty to write about it.  Sorry to leave all 3 of my regular readers hanging, but I'm sure you'll understand. :)

Tags: family, life

Posted at 03:11 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 1 comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: accomplished

OK, I've resolved to write a bit more regularly, so this is a quick bullet update before I crash into bed.

• Today was a great day in mommyhood.  Got so much done and enjoyed my kids at the same time.  Thought it might not be possible only to prove myself wrong.  Hurrah!
• Have started taking Caleb to "Open Gym" at our local family network once a week.  Gets us out of the house while I get to kibbitz with one of my new mom friends.
• Made valentines with Caleb today.  He calls them clementines.  Cracks me up!  They turned out really good, if you consider that I don't do crafts.  Construction paper, white paint, dish sponge, chocolate covered peppermint stick.  My dear son wanted to give his friends candy canes for Valentine's Day.  The Christmas Tree Shop did not have candy canes.  These were the next best thing.  Here's a quick pic:

• Ellie still isn't crawling.  I'm both frustrated/worried and relieved.  At this point Caleb was starting to pull up and make a move towards climbing; he had been crawling since 6 mos.  Ellie is 8 months old.  Will she ever crawl?  Does it matter?
• I'm starting to cook more often and more from mostly scratch.  Tonight I made chicken fingers using panko (yum!!).  Since returning to omnivore eating, I've been slowly figuring out how to cook with chicken again.  I made a variation on shepherd's pie using chicken cut into nugget size pieces.  It was really yummy - spinach, carrots, onions, ricotta cheese.  Anyway, I'm trying to cook more often in an attempt to eat more healthfully and maybe even lose some weight.  So far no luck on weight loss, but I suspect my chocolate habit is the issue there.
• In the world of non-mom work, I got completely overwhelmed and finally had to hire someone to come once a week so that I could have child-free time to get teaching prep done.  She starts next Wednesday.  I hope it works out.  I don't want to give up teaching.  It hurts to even think about doing that.
• Oh, I nearly forgot - Ellie got her first tooth.  She is shy about it, so no pictures of that yet. :(  It's a bottom center tooth. 
• Speaking of pictures, I updated our family website today.  Send me a comment if you want the link.
• OK, it's way too late for me to be at the computer.  More blogging soon. :)

Tags: family, life

Posted at 10:44 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 4 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: anxious

So much has happened since my last post.  There's probably not a good way to get it all in.  So in no particular order...

• Caleb continues to communicate better and better each day.  Downside: he now protests "school."  We think this is because he is bored and that all will get better in preschool.  If not, I guess we'll cross that bridge if we get there.
• Ellie has become a spit-up baby.  *sigh*  It does not seem related to things I eat, which is good (sort of), but I'm getting pretty fed up with all the puke and with the increased fussiness.
• FIL and mom-in-law (Aaron's stepmom) visited.  It was a lovely visit overall.  Caleb had some impressively tough moments, which led to an uncomfortable conversation between my in-laws and me.  Had I understood it from their intentions rather than misunderstanding their words, it would have been a much better conversation.  All is well from that unnecessary drama now.
• Great-grandparents visited this past weekend, and that was unnecessarily stressful.  Aaron and I had arranged a plan.  The uncle who was functioning as driver and go-between decided to mix up the plan a bunch.  It was quite the mess.  Still, the great-grandparents were delighted to meet Ellie and to see how much Caleb has grown up.  I think the last time they saw Caleb he was about 18 months or so.  A lot of changes in about a year!
• I am totally stressed about teaching preparations (and thus procrastinating here).  I can't even go into it since I think some of what I would write would be rather unprofessional.  The part I can share is that I have to finish writing one of my curricula by the end of this week and I'm only about 1/3 of the way through it, if I can be that generous.  My ability to write curricula has gone out the window thanks to very limited child-free/fuss-free time.  There are other stressors related to teaching, but hopefully those will go away in another 2 days.  If not, argh.
• In less significant news, I no longer am a pescatarian/vegetarian.  That is, I have resumed eating poultry in addition to my fish consumption.  The short story is to read "In Defense of Food."  The longer story is that I decided the soy-based processed foods I was eating as a protein source were not really food in the truest sense of that word.  I've been enjoying my reunion with chicken immensely.

And now my curriculum awaits me.  Perhaps I'll be able to blog more regularly once I start the actual teaching...

Tags: family, life

Posted at 08:56 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

Posted at 10:23 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 1 comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: sad

Yesterday I scheduled 2 different play dates for Caleb - one in the morning with my friend K and her son M, and one in the afternoon was with some of the moms from my post-partum group.  The play date in the morning went really well.  Caleb seems to be figuring out that using words is more appropriate than shoving and grabbing.  OK, he doesn't get that every day, but it does seem to be happening more often.  Yay Caleb!  The afternoon playgroup has left me troubled.  I didn't think my parenting style was all that different from most parents.  Maybe it isn't.  Thanks to sleep deprivation and hormones, I'm not really sure.  I've already talked to 2 mom friends and DH Aaron about this, but I'm still stuck so here I am writing about it.

Shortly after arriving at my friend's house, the moms began talking about how potty training was going.  They all have daughters, so I'm sure that makes a difference in timing.  However, we are not potty training Caleb in an active sense.  He asks to use the toilet before his bath each night, and we let him.  He usually pees then and that is that.  I don't put him on the toilet without his asking; I do not put him in Pull-Ups or real underwear.  I do not bribe him with candy or stickers.  I sort of figure he is going to learn to use the toilet in due time, when he is ready.  So when one of the moms asked me how potty training was going, my response was "What potty training?"  Not because I don't know what potty training looks like for most people, but because I don't want to engage in that style of "training."  I listened to my friends' struggles, how their daughters refused to sit on the toilet, how the bribes weren't working anymore.  Who is being trained?  Are their daughters any more successful at using the toilet?  Does it matter?  I mean, who really cares whether Little Sophie (made-up name) uses the toilet successfully 1, 3, or 6 months before Caleb figures it out? 

The playgroup continued with kids playing and moms talking.  Well, sort of.  I saw that Caleb was a lost sheep.  He wasn't interested in standing at the coffee table to play with the other kids.  He wanted to move around a bit.  He found a little red wagon and began moving it through the house.  Except then the wagon got stuck, and then Caleb got frustrated.  Caleb's frustrations often translate into screams, and this occasion was no different.  I sat on the floor with him and tried to understand and give him choices.  Eventually, I directed him to a different activity.  With each activity he chose, I found myself needing to intervene for various reasons - he had reached something not intended for kids (the host's daughter is shorter); he was about to bang on or otherwise use something breakable; he was out of my line of sight and potentially getting into something that was meant to be off-limits.  At some point, he had a toy hammer and wanted to bang the coffee table which was being used BOTH for kid play and for adult drinks (WTF?).  I asked the host mom if she wanted him to hammer the table, and she offered a pillow.  Fine, except he wanted to swing his hammer far and wide.  In retrospect, he needed more space than what was being provided for kid space in this very large house.  I suggested that Caleb use his hammer gently, that he fix me, to no avail.  Instead, the hammer was taken away.  The afternoon continued similarly with Caleb's appearing to be out of sync when in fact he was being Caleb and being pretty "good" (i.e., not pushing, grabbing, tantrumming). 

During a snack, the host mom wiped Caleb's hands after he had eaten watermelon.  Cool.  He of course then splashed in the remaining watermelon juice on the counter.  She snapped at him "I just cleaned you."  Well, duh - take 2 seconds to clean him again if you care, and why do you need to snap at him?  Clean the counter THEN the kid (duh, IMO).  The same host mom seemed to think that Caleb would not try to eat the watermelon rind either and was put off when I asked for something to cut the melon with.  Bear in mind that I can't actually eat melon and in fact get a gag reflex when handling it.  I wasn't asking her to cut it either.  But whatever, maybe she was joking about being put off?

After the snack, play continued.  Caleb was again a bit of a lost sheep.  He didn't know any of the kids well since he hadn't seen them in several months.  I tried introducing him, tried suggesting ways to play with them, and no dice.  He's just two, you know?  It's not like he's figured out the finer points of social interaction yet.  At some point, he took some of the pieces of a toy tea set and was cooking with them.  Cool.  Except that he didn't want to cook in the same room as the other kids.  When he tried putting the things on the host mom's kitchen counters (logical, I will say), the host mom told him he had to bring the items back to the coffee table.  Argh.  At this point, I wanted to hunt for a play room, but I didn't say anything.  Bad me.  I really need to learn how to stand up for my kid.  Caleb continued to play reasonably well around the others; I continued to play defense when he tried to use the breakable coasters (WTF again?).

Then I needed to change Ellie's diaper.

Caleb came over to where I was changing her diaper.  I don't remember what lightweight plastic toy he had in his hands (maybe a teacup?), but he decided to toss it across the room.  We were not in the room with all the people since there wasn't enough room in there to change a diaper comfortably AND I didn't feel like having an audience for a diaper change.  In other words, he was not throwing this item at anyone on purpose, and we were far enough from the crowd that no one would have been hurt by the object.  Nevertheless, the host mom whipped around and yelled at him to sit on her second step (we were by the stairs).  She said something about the stairs being her daughter's time out spot.  I was absolutely floored.  Caleb looked shocked.  I said something about how we didn't use time outs in a traditional sense (true) and how we used them in a very limited way and always with a warning first (also true).  The host mom went on to explain how she uses this spot with all kids in her house, how her sister's kids all know this spot, how she is "the scary mom."  I then said something about how Caleb would not be throwing anything else in her house and how we would leave if he did.  She interpreted this to mean I agreed, but really I could not let her yell at my son again and put him in a time out.  She approached him to "make up," and I asked him if he could give her elbows (his sign of affection).  I regret this immensely.  We should have left right then and there.  Instead we stayed for dinner.  Blech.

Later in the car, I told Caleb that I did not like the way the host mom had spoken to him.  I told him that he could come to me anytime someone spoke to him and it made him sad or mad.  I told him he could tell me if he didn't like the way I spoke to him.  I feel like it wasn't enough.  I really feel like I let him down, even though I don't think he feels let down.  As I've written this all down and spoken with a few friends and Aaron about it, I think I've decided not to revisit the issue with the host mom.  I think I will not return to her house, though I may invite her to our house.  Maybe seeing how we do things at home will have an impression?  In any case, I don't think the invite will be soon in coming.

Tags: kids, life

Posted at 08:15 am | Link | Leave a comment | 3 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: satisfied

This weekend I stayed home with Caleb and Ellie while DH Aaron went to a family wedding near Ithaca.  Staying home with the 2 year old and the 2 month old was an intimidating proposition, but going to the wedding would have involved being in the car with 2 kids for at least 6 hours each way, not to mention the child wrangling once we arrived.  SO, I thought it best to stay home and send DH as an emissary.  Even with the bumps along the way, I think I made the right decision.

My strategy from the outset was to stay occupied.  Or perhaps I should say that my strategy was to keep Caleb occupied.  Anyway, I made plans with my friends C, B, and their 2 year old daughter H for Friday and Sunday mornings, and then I was left only with Saturday.

On Friday, C and H met us at a playground that we had not been to before.  H and Caleb play really well together, and they had a good time romping.  We had lunch at their house and came home for naps.  Nap went off without a hitch - the only time the whole weekend.  I am starting to wonder whether Caleb might be trying to drop his nap, but he is SOOOOooo cranky when he doesn't nap that I can't imagine his going without it yet.  During Caleb's nap, I did some preparations for our regular Friday night dinner - mainly setting the table and straightening the house.  After the nap, I cooked while Caleb watched some Curious George.  He and I had a pretty decent dinner together - no tantrums that I recall.  The bedtime routine went reasonably smoothly, and both kids were asleep for most of the night.  Ellie had her usual wakings, and Caleb had one waking that I seem to remember.

On Saturday, I originally thought we would spend the day at the farmers' market and the library, but I had a different idea when I woke up.  I decided that we all should go to Franklin Park Zoo.  What a good idea!!  We had a really good time.  Caleb loved the gorillas (ga-la-laa!), and he even had his first carousel ride.

Here he is waiting for the ride to start.  Yes, that is a monkey on his back.  I crack myself up. :)


And the ride started!  He looks a bit loopy here, but really he was having a blast.


After the zoo, the kids were zonked as Ellie shows us.


After the adventures of the zoo, we had a different kind of adventure.  Ellie had a nasty stomach something - probably a reaction to one of her vaccinations from Wednesday (I suspect the RotaTeq).  She vomited and/or spit up 7 times in under an hour.  I called the doc, got transferred to the weekend care folks, and finally decided to call our regular baby sitter to hang out with Caleb so that I could take Ellie solo to the nowhere-near-us office of our medical group.  Sure, I could have taken both kids, but why if I didn't have to?  I still owe our sitter money since I couldn't find Aaron's babysitting money stash and had no cash of my own.  Fortunately, the sitter is very understanding and lives 3 doors down.  Turns out Ellie is fine ... well, as fine as one could be while reacting to a vaccine.  Perhaps needless to say, but I am refusing future RotaTeq vaccines.

Bedtime on Saturday was not as seamless as on Friday since Ellie was feeling crummy, but we got through it.  I'm so glad that I wear Ellie in a wrap.  It makes for two-handed parenting of my toddler and a much happier baby.  Both kids slept pretty well - usual wakings for Ellie.

I forgot to mention that Caleb decided this weekend was a good time to start waking up between 5:30 and 5:45 in the morning.  WTF???  How is this child related to me?  I seriously could sleep 12 hours a day if given the opportunity.  How does he not sleep?  Especially when he used to sleep?  I blame molars and whatever else for the change, but his early wakings were one seriously not fun thing this weekend.

On Sunday (today!), I met up with B and H at the Children's Museum, which Caleb calls the toy museum.  The Boston Children's Museum is an awesome place, but their customer service gets to me every time I've been.  This time, it was more my fault, but I still am a bit annoyed.  Aaron, bless him, had taken our membership card in his wallet with him to NY.  Our membership is actually with a kid museum in Connecticut, so I had no way to prove we were members.  The Boston museum folks offered that I could call the CT museum, but of course the CT museum was not open when I called.  Since Caleb could NOT wait one more second for me to sit on hold or try to negotiate with the cashier, I ended up paying for our admission.  Dumb, but not that big a deal.  More annoying was that Caleb asked for a second stamp because he likes one on each hand, and the cashier said "Oh, he doesn't need one."  That actually ticked me off MORE than paying admission because he was being so good about asking for a second stamp and was denied such a little silly thing.  Grf grf grf.  This is why I prefer Aaron to take him there!  Anyway, Caleb did have a mostly good time there.  He especially liked the room of bubbles.  As you might guess, you make and blow bubbles in this room.  There is one place where you actually stand on a platform and pull a rope so that you can make a bubble tower around yourself.  Caleb LOVED this, mostly because he could let the bubble ring crash down and make a huge splash. :) 

My tiredness definitely was showing by Sunday morning.  I actually made several wrong turns getting to and from the Children's Museum.  I even took the wrong exit off the highway and ended up at the airport.  On the way back, I again took a wrong turn and ended up on a much slower road along the Charles River to get to the main highway.  Oy!  I have to laugh at myself a bit on that one because I actually had directions to the museum with me, and I've been there several times before.  Besides my bad sense of direction, I also had very little patience for Caleb's whining and lack of cooperation.  I'm sure he is tired too since he has been waking at 5:30!!  I'm hoping I'll get a little more sleep after Aaron comes home.

After the museum, B and H joined us for lunch.  I made some plain ol' pasta and microwaved some peas.  The kids ate reasonably well, but they were definitely showing obvious signs of "done-ness."  Of course, once Caleb gets to that point, his afternoon nap is never as restful or restorative as it should be.  He slept from 1-2, played from 2-3 in his bed, and is asleep again after my insistence.  I told him I would get him up in an hour, so I have about 5 more minutes.

I think when he wakes that I'll suggest making some banana bread.  He enjoys baking with me, and I need to do something about my mostly tidy kitchen. ;)
  

Tags: kids, life

Posted at 03:26 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: content

Elisheva (Ellie) is almost 2 months old.  I'm still here to write about it - not that I'm entirely sure what I want to write or whether I can put together a coherent thought at the moment.

Over the past 2 months, my MIL visited no fewer than 4 times for a total of about 5 weeks.  *whew*  People ask me whether she was helpful, and I have a hard time answering.  Sometimes yes and sometimes no.  Wouldn't that be true for most of us though if we were staying with someone after the birth of a child?  She did help cook occasionally, and she offered to help with other things often, perhaps more often than necessary.  I often felt that either she or I were "under foot" as my mother would call it, but the laundry got done, food was made, kids were cared for.  Yes, there were certainly times when I wanted to scream - times when she would say or do/not do something that drove me batty.  Apparently there were times when she said things without my knowing about it until after the fact and I got to go batty then.  Whatever.  The visits are done for now, and I think we did the right thing by having her visit often while she was stateside.

Caleb has started throwing more intense tantrums again in the past 2 months.  I shouldn't be surprised, really.  I am thankful that the tantrums are not nearly as long as they used to be, but man does he sound like a raging beast/demon/something not quite human when he is mad!  I have not found good ways of diffusing these tantrums other than dumb luck.  Sometimes talking to him works.  Sometimes I need to leave him alone and let him scream louder.  *sigh*  I feel awful not knowing how to relate to him when he goes to that loud, mad, dark place.  I keep telling myself that this will pass, but I fear what life will be like when it does pass.  Will Caleb respect me?  I don't mean will he be obedient, but will he admire/like/love/want to be around me?  Will he fear me?  I sure hope not.  Will he know that I want to help him?  Will he think that I might able to help him?  I just don't know.  I hope that by letting him be angry, by giving him space when he seems to need it and comfort when he'll take it, that maybe this will work out all right.

In other news, Aaron has a back spasm.  He has been taking various pain medication for more than a week.  He thought he was better until he lifted Caleb a few times the other day.  This morning he was in pain again.  I've banned him from any lifting for the next week.  This truly sucks as far as getting things done around the house and having a co-parent/someone else to schlep Caleb when I can't get to him, but I want my husband back!

Me?  Right.  I've written about Caleb, about Aaron, and even mentioned Ellie briefly.  She, by the way, is doing great.  Growing much more quickly than I expect, remaining mellow and peaceful.  She really is a delight to add to our family.  Caleb keeps things interesting, and Ellie so far is just sweet.  It's a very nice balance.  Oh yeah, so how am I?  *shrug*  I've realized that I have a hard time answering that question because I end up answering what everyone else in my household is doing.  I'm happy to report that I'm employed again this fall, teaching at Prozdor (www.prozdor.org).  It will be my third year teaching, and I'll be teaching some familiar things and some new things.  I think it's good that I'm teaching some new things, but I am quite a bit nervous about getting it all prepped in time.  I mean, it's already the end of July!  School starts in September, so I have about a month and a half, which sounds like a ton of time and in fact is not much time at all.  Nevertheless, I'm excited about continuing my teaching. 

I'm still struggling with the idea that I'm basically a stay-at-home-mom.  I know I'm doing the right thing with my life, and yet I often wonder or think I should be doing something else.  I don't think I'm necessarily that great a mom - often I think I'm pretty lousy at this mom thing - so I wonder whether I wouldn't be doing my kids a favor to be doing something else and let someone better qualified take care of them.  Of course, the thought of anyone else taking care of my kids more often than already happens gives me knots in my stomach, and then I resolve that I'm doing the right thing.  See how I've already come full circle in this short paragraph? ;)  Seriously though, it's not like I get recognition from any outside "authority" that I do a good job, and my own kids sure as heck aren't going to be thanking me anytime soon for being with them, so it's tough for me to accept that what I'm doing IS valuable.  Besides, it's not like noses and elbows (Caleb's preferred acts of affection) will fill my gas tank or pay the mortgage. ;)

In any case, I feel good most days even with the existential wonderings.  I mostly enjoy the time I spend with my kids, and I always enjoy time I spend with my husband, and I feel like things are right with the world when we're all together.  So tantrums and ramblings aside, things are good.

Tags: family, life

Posted at 08:39 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

Posted at 01:43 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

Posted at 01:35 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 2 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: grateful

After 15 hours of labor and 15 minutes of pushing, I am proud to announce the arrival of Elisheva Noa Stevens.  She was born at 5:28pm on May 24, 2008 at the Mt. Auburn Hospital in Cambridge, MA.  She is exactly 2 years and 2 months younger than her big brother Caleb, and she measured in with strikingly similar stats.  She weighed 7lbs, 15 oz and was 21" long/tall with a 34cm head circumference.  Caleb had identical measurements except that he weighed 1 pound more (8lb, 15oz).  Easy to remember, no? :)

My birth experience was really amazing.  I don't think I have adequate words for it, but I'll try to provide the details as best as I can while I still can remember them.

Labor started around 1-1:30am with contractions that were about 7-9 minutes apart.  By 3-4am, the contractions were more like 5-6 minutes apart.  We called Dr. H around 3:30 and decided to stay home for a bit more.  We both had the clarity of mind to shower before going to the hospital.  We left for the hospital by about 5am.

The hospital was PACKED.  So packed that we had to wait for an exam room and then wait again for a labor room.  The upside to this waiting is that I was able to continue moving through what I figured was early labor.  When I finally was brought into the exam room, the nurse asked me to lay down on the table, and I had to refuse.  It just wasn't comfortable to be laying down.  It was barely comfortable to sit at that point, but I was willing to try that so they could get a read on the baby.  I was already 5 cm dilated and 100% effaced, and the baby was somewhere around -2 station.  I cannot tell you how happy I was to hear this.  Prior to arriving at the hospital, my labor had been fairly manageable with just careful breathing and a shower.  Once I had to wait around at the hospital and thanks to the drive into the hospital, I was having a hard time with preserving my energy and feeling comfortable/relaxed.  I kept wanting to have my own space to labor while waiting for the exam and then for the labor room.  I suppose that was one of the very few negative things about the whole experience, but I don't think I have really thought anything bad about my birthing experience until now.

So here I was at the hospital, farther in labor than I had been with Caleb and exhausted.   I had decided before going into labor that I wanted to delay taking any sort of pain medications/epidural until I progressed beyond where I had gotten in labor with Caleb.   I talked with my doctor about the risks of taking an epidural.  My fear was that taking an epidural would inevitably lead to a slower labor and then to a c-section.  She assured me that I was far enough along that the epidural would not have that effect though she said it was certainly possible that the labor would be a bit longer since I would be confined to a bed.  My reason for considering the epidural came down to one of energy.  I had slept for 2 hours before my contractions woke me up.  I felt exhausted by the time I had to deal with the initial exam.  Aaron told me that he thought it was interesting that my reason for wanting the epidural as I had stated it in that moment was not about pain but about exhaustion.  I think I said something about thinking I would not be able to get through transition on my own.  Who knows whether that really would have turned out to be true, but I certainly don't regret my decision to have an epidural.

The epidural was not as strong as I remember from the one I had with Caleb.  I actually still could feel some contractions and could move my legs a bit.  As the baby continued to descend, I could feel more pressure than I expected to feel with an epidural.  My doctor explained that this is just the way things work - that at some point the epidural will only reduce pain/pressure and not eliminate it.  She reminded me that this is a good thing since I would know when to push.  Pushing - right, so I needed to figure out how that worked.  I realized as I waited for what seemed like forever between 8 and 10 cm that I was terrified of pushing.  I didn't think I would know how to do it right, and I thought I would break myself trying.  I realize that may sound really silly to those of you who have pushed out more than one kid, but it's really how I felt.  As I got closer to 10 cm, I explained this to my doctor and to the labor nurse.  They both were so reassuring, telling me that this is what our bodies are meant to do, that they would guide me through it and knew I would do it.  Eventually they told me that I had to decide when I was ready to push and they left me with Aaron to prepare myself for it.  They both were sort of spiritual about it - well, maybe spiritual isn't the right word.  They both approached the pushing phase as something that needed mental and emotional preparation and readiness.  So I spent several minutes psyching myself up and convincing myself that I could do this.  I even tried a few practice pushes to see whether it felt better or worse to push during a contraction.  At some point, it actually felt OK to bear down during a contraction.  So I spent a few more minutes persuading myself that I could do this and then told the doc, the nurse, and Aaron that it was time.

Aaron's job was to hold my left leg since I had no control over it.  Well, he did more than hold my leg - he truly was awesome as a support person and partner.  I get very choked up when I remember back to the delivery room and seeing him after Baby Girl was born.  My doctor and the labor nurse traded turns with my right leg and checking on the baby's descent.  My doctor was amazing - kept everything stretchy and had such a strong presence of calm and composure, even when I ended up grabbing her during one of my later pushes (oops - note to future moms: do NOT grab your labor support people while pushing!).  As my baby's head came out, I panicked and thought I was breaking in half, but the doctor and nurse kept telling me that I was a star and that I was doing exactly what I needed to do.  I remember hearing them tell me when the head was coming out and announcing different body parts that were coming.  I remember not believing them entirely.  Part of me figured they were telling me this so that I would keep going, and I figured I had a long way to go because they had told me that pushing probably would take 2 hours.

15 minutes of pushing later and I had my baby daughter on my chest.

So 15 hours of labor, 15 minutes of pushing, 1 successful VBAC.

I consider us extremely blessed after all of this.  I have conceived, carried, and birthed two apparently healthy children.  I recognize that not everyone who wants children can have them, for whatever reasons, and I know that not every pregnancy goes smoothly.  I don't know how best to thank whatever power enabled me to have such blessings in my life, but thank you.

On a lighter note, here are a few pictures to share.

Within an hour after birth - maybe 30 minutes or so?



At the risk of showing a bit too much on the internet, here we are just after the birth



And here's the proud papa - isn't he cute?

Tags: family, life

Posted at 10:38 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 3 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: frustrated

I love teaching.  I love the adrenaline rush that I get from having a class go particularly well, from when the students really engage and "get" the material, even just from an awesome student comment.  There is very little bad I can say about teaching.  Teaching is a job, and like any job, it does have its downsides.  For me, the downside to teaching is administrative work, but more specifically, grading.

There is no nice way to say this.  Grading sucks.

Every semester I try to make it go more smoothly.  I try to keep my grade book updated, and I am getting much better at that.  Every semester I reevaluate whether I am assessing my students fairly.  And ever semester, grading still sucks.  I end up giving anywhere from 1-5% of my students incompletes, and I end up tweaking grades that just don't seem right somehow.  I spend a ridiculous time doing something that really should be basic math once I actually grade the final projects, and then I get complaints from students about their incompletes.  And this semester I have low grades to add to that mix.  Blech!

You see, I don't teach in a full-time school.  I teach in a supplementary program, and the students tend to send their transcripts from this program off to colleges with the hope that showing they committed to this activity will give them an edge.  To the students, the grades matter.  Perhaps more than they should because really is Harvard going to turn down a student because he received a B+ in a class that he took for 14 weeks in a supplementary, after-school, semi-religious program??  Maybe.  I don't know.  I didn't apply to Harvard.

This semester, many of my students had more serious attendance issues than were apparent at the midterm.  At the midterm, I filled out my midterm learning reports and indicated when students had missing work or were showing an attendance problem.  I asked parents to contact me if their student had missed a lot of classes.  No parents contacted me about attendance.  A few students submitted their missing work.  By and large, students with missing work still had missing work at the end of the term.  Absences and missing work do not make for A's.  At least not in my apparently overly strict grading scheme.

The program I teach in asks that we be liberal and gentle in our grading.  So when I saw that a few of my students would be earning C's as a result of their attendance and missing work, I wrote to these students to give them another chance to make up their missing work and earn a B instead of a C.  Truthfully, the math doesn't work out that the missing work has that substantial of an effect, but I'm supposed to be generous with good grades. 

The students' responses?

Instead of acknowledging their missing work and agreeing to submit it by the new deadline, they tried to negotiate for A's.  Why were their grades being capped at a B, they ask.  They participated in class!  They didn't know they were missing work! (um, can anyone say B.S. for me here?)  And then to top it off, one of the students freaked out to his mom about the grade, and she wrote me a note to inform me that her son is not a C student.  Well, no, I suppose he isn't a C student WHEN HE DOES THE WORK!  The mom even admitted her son had not told her the full story, yet she wants a better grade for him.  

*sigh*

Instead of grading my other students' work, I've taken a break from it to try to cool off.  I left a message for the high school director regarding the mother's e-mail because frankly my response to her right now simply isn't very nice and probably isn't in the realm of professional.

What am I missing here?  I've thought about my own academic experiences, and I've come up with one time that I argued with a teacher about an assignment - not even about the actual grade or my final grade.  Like many of my current students, I earned mostly A's and B's.  I had one C+ in middle school due to my poor organizational skills, and then I didn't have another C until college.  I wouldn't have dreamt of questioning those C's in college either.  Some of the C's were earned through a lot of hard work, and I was thankful to have passed at all.  Some of the C's were not-so-conscious choices to do a half-ass job in a class that I didn't care much about. 

I've asked some of my local friends why my students think that grades are the start of negotiations.  DH Aaron reminds me that the main character in the movie Clueless does just that.  Folks - it's a freakin' MOVIE!  I doubt my students are taking their cue from Alicia Silverstone's performance here.  Questioning a grade doesn't bother me so much, but fill me in - since when did it become acceptable and appropriate to negotiate for a higher grade? 

Tags: life, teaching

Posted at 01:16 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: content

Today is Marathon Monday - the day of the Boston Marathon.  As many of you know, I am NOT a runner.  In fact, I'm not one for much exercise.  I like doing some light activity for fun - walking outside is a biggie, dancing at festive occasions, that sort of thing.  Nevertheless, the Boston Marathon is a big deal around here.  All day media coverage, massive road closings, the works.  We now live in a town that the Marathon runs straight through.  In fact, the Marathon splits our town in half, sort of.  We're about 10 miles along the race route and about 2 blocks south of the road the Marathon runs on, and they close the road at 8:30am.  Yes, this means we cannot go to most of the places I normally might go on the average weekday.  So if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right?

DH Aaron and I checked the Boston Marathon website this morning and confirmed when the race began and estimated when the first runners would pass through our town center.  After breakfast and some outdoor time with Caleb, we made the trek to the town center.  Caleb got a yellow balloon, which made him extraordinarily happy.  There were many dogs and friendly folks, which made me quite happy.  There was a real sense of town camaraderie as we made our way to the common.  Along our way to the common and once we got to the common, we saw many of the wheelchair participants.  I found myself surprisingly choked up at the effort they made.  Watching them on modified recumbent bikes was just breathtaking.  I was quite glad to be wearing sunglasses so that no one saw my eyes well up a bit.  I blame the pregnancy hormones, but honestly it really impresses me to see such determination. 

The women elite runners came through the center of town between 10:15 and 10:30.  Elite runners are the amazingly fast runners.  They start earlier than the majority of the runners.  The elite men came through about 15 minutes after the women.  Watching the elite runners is like watching the epitome of grace in motion.  They don't run; they glide.  They sweat, but it isn't noticeable.  They don't bounce when they run.  It's really incredible.

After watching the elite runners, we took a quick excursion to the fire truck parked on one side of the town common.  Caleb was so happy.  I can hardly wait to go through the pictures I took.  They might not be fine art, but he was just overjoyed to be in the fire truck.  We had a hard time convincing him to come back to us until he saw other kids playing with balls and bats in the common.  That was another adventure since he thinks that anything he sees is his.  He began to figure out that the balls and bats were being used by other kids.  Eventually he had a meltdown over a baseball bat.  This prompted our departure from the town center.  I just have no patience for meltdowns these days.  OK, I have little patience for meltdowns ever, but 35 weeks pregnant?  Not at all.

Along our journey back home, we ran into a family from Caleb's daycare and a few neighbors.  They were an excellent distraction to Caleb's tantrum.  We also saw even more runners and could get an excellent view of the mass of runners.  I think something like 23,000 people run the Boston Marathon.  It's quite impressive to see that many people on one of our town's major roadways.

We arrived home, played a bit more with Caleb in the street, and convinced him to come inside for some lunch.  Since then, Aaron has been quite productive making a handrail for our deck at the insurance company's demand (retahded) and other handy projects.  I have been unproductive in a delightful way - read more geeky biblical scholarship, played online scrabble and bored the internet with the details of my morning. :)

Now to check on our sleeping Boy Wonder...

Tags: bw adventures, life

Posted at 03:20 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: sad

For the past few months, I've been seeing a spiritual director to talk about death.  Spiritual direction is a lot like therapy but from a different perspective.  I decided to meet with a spiritual director because I wanted some help in processing our cousin's death.  I wrote about our cousin's death here.  The short version is that I still think that death sucks as much as I would like to think of it as a transition to something else.

Last night I taught my usual groups of Tuesday night Prozdor students.  I decided to stage a debate for the ethics class, and for masochistic reasons I suppose, I chose to stage a debate on death with dignity.  Well, at the time that I was deciding what to teach, I realized I wouldn't need to do any preparation other than reading my already prepared material and photocopying, and I thought this was a good idea.  The case that I gave my students is the following:

Bennie, a 12-year-old in Florida, has a kidney transplant.  His body begins to reject the kidney, so the doctors dramatically increase the dosage of the anti-rejection medicine.  The medicine makes the boy sleepy.  It blurs his vision.  It makes it hard for him to concentrate.  He can’t really read, watch television, or play video games.  Even visiting with friends is hard, because his eyes become very light sensitive.  He and his mother decide he should go off the medicine and take his chances.  He says, “Living this way is not living.”  The doctors call it “suicide” and “parental abandonment of responsibility.”  Bennie and his mother argue that it is his life.  The doctors go to court.  The court orders the family to continue medical treatment.  You speak for the Jewish tradition.

I divided the class into 2 groups - one side to argue in favor of continuing the medical treatment and one side to argue against continuing treatment (i.e. Continue treatment vs. Reject treament).  The other information I gave the students was various Jewish text sources to use in their arguments.  The students did a really good and respectful job with this topic, and we had a few minutes at the end of class to discuss the case.  I asked each student what they thought really should happen, what would they do if they were G-d forbid in this situation.  The vast majority of them thought the boy should continue the treatment despite the side effects.  Several of the students said that the side effects didn't seem fatal and that some life was better than no life.  At least one student brought up how chemotherapy was better than just dying from cancer.  I decided it was time to share my impression of chemotherapy.  What follows is a paraphrasing of what I said last night.

I don't know whether Bennie should continue his medical treatment.  I believe the decision to continue or end that treatment should be a decision made by Bennie, his mother/parents, and informed by the medical professionals.  As for chemotherapy and cancer, I still am working through my feelings about our cousin dying this past November.  [Students asked for some details about her]  Our cousin was 35 when she died.  She had 2 young daughters, ages 5 and 3.  She had no history of cancer in her family.  She went through 2 years of chemotherapy, at least 1 round of radiation, and numerous surgeries to battle the cancer.  [Students asked about the surgeries]  She underwent operations that removed part of her colon, her ovaries, part of her lungs, and even tumors from her brain.  I don't actually remember if there were other surgeries.  She was so strong through all of these efforts.  I went with her several times to her chemotherapy appointments.  Going with her helped me understand what chemotherapy really was; going with her demystified something that I had been very scared about.  People receiving chemotherapy take medicine to help cope with the unpleasant and even painful side effects.  There isn't a medicine to help with the exhaustion.  One time when I went with her to Dana-Farber, there was a man sitting across from us getting ready to receive his chemotherapy.  He was fairly young, probably around 40 years old.  He was good looking, well-built.  He was joking and flirting with the nurses.  He made some phone calls while the nurses set him up to receive his treatment.  About 10-15 minutes later, I looked over at his chair again.  He was passed out asleep.  His treatment ended a little bit before Liz's treatment did.  When the treatment was complete, the nurses woke him.  He moved so slowly.  He looked so much smaller, but I knew he was about 5'10" or 6'0".  He no longer flirted with the nurses.  It saddened me greatly to see this vibrant person who seemed so kind be transformed by something that was allegedly helping him.  I saw the same kind of transformation in Liz.  She would come to chemotherapy with a quick and determined stride and leave chemotherapy with a purposeful but slow dragging walk.  Do I think she should have continued chemotherapy after her doctors told her there was nothing else to be done?  Absolutely not.  I'm not sure how I feel about the chemotherapy she received before that point.  Maybe it extended her life, and maybe it didn't.  It certainly changed her life and not always for the better.

As I told this sad tale, my students were absolutely silent (a rarity for them).  Some of them expressed their condolences at the end.  I dismissed class as soon as I was done talking since I had held them a bit late to finish up.  I was upset that I had become choked up in front of them, though I know my emotional display was honest and not wrong.  I don't know whether sharing the story with them was right - part of me says it was too private and personal.  On the other hand, I feel like it gave them something to think about since so few of them have any direct experience with chronic illness.

This morning I began reading my usual online "stuff," and I decided to read the Savage Love advice column since a new one gets posted nearly every Wednesday.  In today's column, Dan Savage explained why he could not write a column today.  His mother died.  I don't know Dan Savage personally, let alone anyone in his family.  Nevertheless, I cried as I read about his mother's passing.  I suppose I was crying about death in general, and I'm certain I was crying again for Liz.  Her birthday was on Monday.  How do you celebrate, commemorate, or celebrate a birthday for someone who has died?  We phoned her husband Evan, and he told us of gifts that he purchased for his daughters and for his in-laws.  We offered to spend time with him on Monday, but he counter-offered with getting together this weekend.  I baked super-rich chocolate brownies on Monday - Liz said that desserts had to be chocolate, so it seemed appropriate.  Still, it's not like I can give something to Evan.  The one thing I know he wants can't be given.  We all want that and we can't have it.

Tags: death, life, liz

Posted at 09:56 am | Link | Leave a comment | 3 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: frustrated

I should preface this entry by mentioning that I'm not the most social butterfly in the field.  I know I'm an introvert, but this just means I like to have alone time or quiet time after being around people.  Okay, enough disclaimer.

Before having a child, I had this crazy idea that there was some kind of secret "mom club."  The idea was pretty simple.  Once you have a baby, you magically meet other moms with kids around the same age and then you somehow develop a camaraderie.  At first, my idea was that I would take Caleb to places frequented by other parent/child sets and somehow conversation would lead to repeated meetings or even playdates.  After I gave birth, I modified this idea a bit to include the idea of joining a post-partum support group.  In theory, joining that small group of women should have been an even easier way of meeting moms in a similar place as me.  After all, we all gave birth at the same hospital within about a month of each other.  Many of us had the same doctors, and our birthing experiences were unsurprisingly similar.  All of us were first time moms even, so it's not like any of us had a leg up on anyone. 

For 6 weeks, our group met in the hospital.  I think our group starting meeting around the time Caleb was 6 weeks old or so.  I know that by the end of the time we met at the hospital, many of our babes were reaching that supposedly magical 3 month mark.  Near the end of the 6 weeks, one of the women suggested we continue meeting, and all of us thought this was a great idea.  We continued meeting weekly at different people's houses for several months.  As our babies became mobile, meeting became a bit tricky since some of us lived in smaller houses.  Also many of the women in the group returned to work, so they couldn't meet during the day.  Nevertheless, a small group continued meeting pretty regularly.  We even began having moms' night out once in a while just to feel grown-up and real again.  As our babies neared the 1 year mark, the weekly meeting attendance had begun to drop off.  Some moms moved to the 'burbs; more moms started back to work; some of us put our kids in some kind of daycare.  It became tricky to coordinate schedules.

A few weeks back, my post-partum support group got together for another moms' night out.  It was our best turnout in a while even with some noticeable absences due to 2nd babies or schedule conflicts.  We all lamented not seeing each other more frequently.  Several of us, myself included, offered to host another get together during the week for those of us still staying at home.  I e-mailed out a date and time to the group and then waited.

For a long time, no response.

Then finally one mom responded that she and her 2 daughters would come.  I figured one mom was better than no moms, and I really was looking forward to meeting her new baby.  Due to circumstances I don't quite understand (something about alarm clocks not getting set right or not going off or something that was somehow blamed on her husband?), the mom never showed.  I tried to call her, and I sort of reached her.  When she answered the phone, I heard her baby crying and then the phone hung up.  I was a bit worried, but I also knew she was fine.  A few hours later, she e-mailed me to let me know what happened.  I shrugged it off, knowing that having a newborn and a toddler could be overwhelming.

This same mom e-mailed the group to schedule a time at her house.  For at least 2 weeks, I was the only mom she heard from with respect to availability.  And now, 2 weeks having passed and others finally chiming in on their availability, she scheduled a meeting at her house.  For a time when I just can't go.  Well, I could go, except that I would be without Caleb.  I suppose that would be OK, but really I want my kid to play with other kids, and I think I would get frustrated not having my own kid to keep an eye on.  I guess that sounds strange.  I guess that if I'm going to something billed as a playdate that I feel like I need to have a kid with me.

This isn't the first time that playdates have been scheduled in direct conflict with my schedule.  I've been entirely clear about my schedule and have seen that others could meet when I'm available.  I feel like I should just ask to be removed from the mailing list since I am unable to go to any of the get-togethers.  I feel slighted, and I'm probably wrong about that feeling.  Still, I just don't think it should be THAT hard for me to find some regular group to go to with my kid.  When I look at classes - music, activity, whatever - they are scheduled when Caleb is in daycare.  When I look at the more local and considerably larger mom group in my neck of the woods, the meetings conflict with bedtime and my teaching schedule.  When I look at the very supportive group of women I've met on the internet, their meetings also conflict with daycare.  I don't want to change Caleb's daycare schedule because he has adjusted so well to it.  Also, he is in daycare when I really need to have time to myself.  I get to have an especially long weekend with him (Friday - Monday) as well as a couple of afternoons during the week in addition to all the morning and bedtime stuff.  It's really a good schedule for us.  I just wish I could somehow work in a bit more social time during the times that I have Caleb to myself.

So if anyone does actually read my blog and knows of a Boston area play thing on Mondays, I would be really delighted to hear about it.

Tags: life

Posted at 09:49 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: aggravated

So my DH called the previously blogged about cable company to contest the final notice and ask additional questions based on the conversation I had with them.  DH swears that we canceled service on 7/16/07.  The cable company for some reason billed us for 7/20-8/16/07.  The $61.22 we owe is from that service, which we never used.  Grr.  My response?

So, can we write them a check and look for a new provider now?

Tags: life

Posted at 01:32 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: pensive

When I was pregnant with Caleb, I had all sorts of strange vivid dreams.  Some of these dreams were extremely uncomfortable for me, but I managed to work through them or ignore them.  With this pregnancy, I again have had some strange vivid dreams.  Many of those dreams have been emotionally painful.  I've dreamt about bad things happening with my pregnancy or with giving birth quite a few times.  I'm not sure why since I don't feel particularly anxious about labor and delivery.  Sure, I'd like to avoid a second c-section, but I sort of feel like I did this before and will be able to do this again.  I also feel like I'm in good hands with my OB, so most of my labor and delivery worries revolve around what to do with BW Caleb when the big moment (hopefully) arrives.

That all said, I had my first dream that I can remember about Caleb a few nights ago.  The dream really wasn't about him.  He just happened to be in it.  Nevertheless, I can't remember seeing him in my dreams before.  I wonder if he wasn't real enough to be in my dreams before?  Ack - that makes me feel pretty lousy.  Maybe I just don't remember dreams with him before.  I do know that I would wake up when he was very young and think that he was still in bed with me or that I had smothered him or some equally crazy thing.  Anyway, so I had my first dream where I could see Caleb.  The odd thing about this dream was that I'm pretty sure that my brain is finally starting to process Liz's death.

I dreamt that Caleb and his cousins were taking a nap together in a bedroom while Aaron, Evan, Liz, and I were hanging out.  Evan and Aaron were working on dinner, and I had just come from the kids' room.  Liz was in the family/living room, watching tv I think.  Evan passed by me, and I suggested that we should all play cards while we had the chance.  Having the chance really has two meanings here, I think.  In the dream, the kids were sleeping, so it would have been a great time to play cards.  AND having the chance also meant while Liz was still with us.  Evan's response to me was something about how Liz really zonked out by 7:30, so we wouldn't be able to play really.  I was sad about this, but I nodded in understanding.  After this short exchange, Caleb came walking out of the bedroom. 

I think I'm trying to work through my feeling that I didn't have enough time (who does, really?) and that I didn't make good use of my time with Liz.  When I woke up form the dream, I was pretty upset.  I still get choked up thinking about it, but I'm strangely glad I had the dream.  I sort of think it shows I'm making progress, even if it's slow. 

Tags: family, life

Posted at 04:35 pm | Link | Leave a comment | 3 comments | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend

location: Home

mood: frustrated

So I'm on hold with one of the many cable providers in our area.  For the past few months, we've been receiving a bill from them for an account which I closed in August.  I returned the cable box equipment and asked whether I owed ANYTHING on the account.  The person taking the box back from me told me I did not owe anything on the account and that everything was all set. 

Yeah right. 

This week I get a "Notice of Final Demand" from RCN which threatens my personal credit if I don't pay the $61.22 that is outstanding on the account.  How did I suddenly owe RCN $61.22 when I closed the account IN PERSON in August and was told that I did not owe anything?

The customer service representative (or whatever his official title is) cannot seem to figure out how I owe $61.22 either.  He put me on hold long enough for me to write the first 3 paragraphs.  He came back to tell me that he had not figured it out and asked to put me on hold again.  I can't be mad at this person, obviously.  I mean, he's just answering phones to make ends meet on his end, right?  But man am I frustrated with the company!  I mean, if they have the resources to print this erroneous bill and "Notice of Final Demand," shouldn't they also have the resources to help this guy figure out why I owe $61.22?

Prior to being put on hold both times, the representative asked me whether we had rented a cable modem from them.  We most certainly did not.  We own our own cable modem along with all of our other technological clutter.  They better not be trying to charge me for some piece of equipment that we didn't even rent.  I would suggest that we should change cable companies, but I know they all are the same other than in price.  I'll have to ask DH whether he has time to look into pricing for the cable services we want.

I'm now on hold for the third time.  The representative still can't figure it out and now is asking his supervisor - his lead something or another - to help him figure it out.  This does make me wonder what the heck he was doing before, but I'm going to assume he really was looking into this messed up bill.

Grr... I'm hungry still too.  I think I'll go downstairs while on hold for some more food.  An update on the cable bill will be forthcoming.

Tags: life

Posted at 12:41 pm | Link | Leave a comment | Add to Memories | Tell a Friend