Archive | February 2010

Fug it

I’m annoyed that Oprah has red Olympic mittens and I don’t.

Yeah, I know, they were available for months before the Olympics but I was a little occupied with something called adoption.  So I have been looking for some good Olympic clothing, but alas, the store shelves have been picked clean of the good stuff.  All they have left is kid stuff and ugly stuff.

Also went looking for curly hair for braiding and was told that a certain place (miles away from here) was having a sale.  Got there, put the Precious in the Baby Bjorn to go down to the stairs to the basement store and guess what – yep, picked clean.  Too late again.

So what’s a girl to do with a giant shopping mall across the street – yep, I went into the bowels of the biggest shopping centre this side of the Rockies.  Nope, nothing for me.  Just some ready to go formula and a couple of onesies for the wee man.  Oh, times have changed.  Once upon a time, I would have been in there for hours, browsing and trying on clothes for myself, or perusing the clearance racks at the home decor stores.  No, no more time for that.  I had a certain ease to my day, though, I just let myself off the hook for all the things I would normally feel I should be doing.  Too damn tired to care.  Well, I did do more laundry, but other than than, nada.  The reward was a no stress day.  Even the Precious, once he was perched in his bouncer beside me on the couch, let me eat in peace.  The dog let me off with one decent walk and a couple of quick trips outside.  Tomorrow, she gets picked up for another adventure walk and hubby returns at some point.

I’m going to celebrate by washing my hair and going to the chiropractor.  Good times, good times.

Advertisements

Single mum time

DH is away for a few days on business and I’m on my own again.  I was pretty pissed as this was a last minute trip, but decided I should get over it.  After all, he’s working as hard as he can so I don’t have to go back to work at all.  I tried out the Moby wrap with him while doing laundry.  Uh, awkward.  I swear the Precious knows the score cause he cuts up ever single time hubby is not around to witness it.  Luckily, I got to spend a little time with my friend and her Dutch pals.  I actually managed to do 2 loads of laundry and pick up dog food and then go to the mall to meet them.  It was nice getting out for a bit.  My Dutch friends don’t have kids (happily) so I have to pretend I don’t care when they go out to the Holland Heineken house to party.  BFF and I were going to go to a hockey game tomorrow morning but we rethought the whole idea.  It would involve lugging the babies in infant carriers to the stadium on foot, stuffing wax in their ears to withstand air horns and such, lug  diaper bags and formula and  how the hell do we go to the can?…. yeah, gotta walk the dog before 10 am and feed the baby, shower, and …. doesn’t sound much like fun, does it?   Nah, I didn’t think so either, though I really did want to see SOMETHING, but we’re without last minute babysitters, so we nixed the outing.  My back is killing me, and I better make a trip to the chiro pretty darn soon. Crabby me. My whole superwoman/mummy image is going to hell in  a handbasket.  Can you imagine what I’d do if my kid actually cried all day?  I’d kill myself.  Special K is actually an awesome little dude, he just wants milk, a clean diaper, timely naps and face time with me.  Not so bad.  Me?  I just want him to comply with my schedule and let me eat or pee.   HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Trying also to get my hair braided this weekend. I don’t even have the hair yet and I have to travel 45 minutes to get it.  And I have to go to my hairdresser’s house.  She has a 3 year old.  What are the chances she’ll start and finish on time?  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

ICLW time y’all.

Welcome ICLWers.  Check out my street cred for my background details.   Domestic adoption (intercountry actually) and now have only 2 more post placement visits to make it official.  We have an semi-open adoption. I’m pretty much learning as I go along.  I have been humbled beyond imagining throughout this journey.

And now back to my regular scheduled life.  Spent the weekend (well, just a day and a half really) with the in-laws.  Came home early to watch the hockey game.  MIL was delighted to show off Baby K to the whole neighbourhood.  He did pretty well sleeping in an unfamiliar place but had us up at 4am.  Not a heap of fun on a blowup bed, but we managed.  It was nice to see him adored by grandparents.  I did manage to get to a mall which these days is an outing for me.  Easy to navigate  with a stroller.  Whee!  Yep, the kid got some nice stuff from grandma – he’s growing like a weed – and I bought cheap costume jewellery and headbands!  Yeah, no time for the browsing or trying things on.  We couldn’t stay very long as MIL had to get back and make supper.  Ah, women’s work is never done.  The guys – they walked the dogs and had beer. Rough.  Gorgeous weather these past few days.  Not so great for the Olympic skiers but I’m happy.  It’s February, folks, and I’ve seen people in flip flops.  The cherry blossoms are blooming and the crocuses are blooming.  Okay, Im bragging. Forgive me.

When we were on our way home, DH commented that we hadn’t seen or done much in terms of all the Olympics activity.  We agreed it was just a tad difficult with a 3 month old.  I spend the whole day managing his food, sleep, diaper and entertainment detail.  For the dog, too.  That’s it.  Not complaining, but the little bugger runs a tight ship, so if I get off track waiting in line to see this or that or hang out in the streets, my little monkey will remind me he doesn’t give a frig about who won the gold, but who’s got the milk.  And if he gets overtired or overstimulated, he’ll make us pay.  I’ve had plenty of years to party and yahoo in the streets.  I managed to get a little pair of red Olympic mittens for him; I’ll put them aside as a souvenir. Let’s face it, I got the real gold.

A lovely visit

As usual, getting together with Annacyclopedia was a delight!  Pretty much like her lovely baby.  I gave him a hard stare and he turned away all bashful but it’s hard not to look at the fruits of our pursuits.  Did he know that I had been waiting for his creation?  Anticipating his arrival?  I suppose when he’s 16, he still won’t give a rat’s ass, but when his mother tells him about her blog (that is, if she doesn’t delete it from cyberspace), that he will be embarrassed.  But when he’s 36, he might really think it’s cool to know his mum and dad moved heaven and earth to bring him to their hearts.

She came bearing food items (thank goodness cause I hadn’t eaten anything yet) and it was a little hard to look gracious while throwing food down my craw. Oddly enough I was scrambling to make carrot/ginger soup (cause I had an extra 5 minutes that morning but discovered the ginger was moldy) and Anna had brought carrot/ginger soup!   My bundle of joy  sleepily greeted her, ignored his older and wiser friend and then finally decided to take a little snooze.  Did you know that our babes were born in the same month – her’s at the beginning and mine at the end?  At one point, tears sprang to my eyes because I had prayed for her son and she had prayed for mine – thousands of miles apart.  I can’t believe she’s not in my neighbourhood, but at least we connected.

After we babbled on about the babies politely, we got down to the heart of the matter of womanhood vs. motherhood.  That was enlightening.  Anna pointed out that society always pushed aside the needs and feelings of women when it comes to their children.  We are supposed to sacrifice our comfort, our desires, our SELVES, because that is BEST FOR THE BABY.  It doesn’t matter if you’re in pain from breastfeeding, keep QUIET about it.  Don’t complain, just do it cause it is for the baby.  Not much too that broken glass in your milk ducts feeling anyway.  Oh, you ripped down there in your hooha?!  Oh, they do that in some countries all the time as  rite of womanhood.  Sh! Pipe down, look at the cute baby!    And if you’re having a problem, buy this book, product, toy, expensive organic bib!!!!! If they can come up with a no scalpel vasectomy and a virtually pain free circumcision (numbing creme, shots, tylenol, and a grape flavoured sugar cube), why can’t they do better for women with blocked milk ducts than tell them to take a HOT BATH!

Just saying. More later.

Bits and bites

I survived.

I’d have to say that by Friday, I was a little worn.  I don’t know how single mothers do it.  At one point, I was trying to feed him, burp him, write a Valentine’s Day card from Special K to my friend’s little girl, feed the dog, and get ready to leave so I could catch the opening ceremonies – meaning I was in a rush –  cause we had just come back from taking the dog on a hurried walk (and yes, I did arrange for dog walks twice that week – HALLELUJAH HAPPY TIRED DOG), and he started cutting up cause I plunked him down on the couch.  Then I realized I hadn’t showered all day and my face had that sweaty, greasy PMS look to it and of course, I was hungry.  I took a long pause, closed my eyes and took a quick shower, resolving myself to the fact that I would have endure the crying cause he was tired and cranky.  I was,too. We had been up early to watch the Olympic torch relay at English Bay.  He slept through it all, but it was a really cool thing to see.  We got our picture taken so I have something to show to him later.

But I wasn’t going to stay home alone.  By the time I bundled him up to go out, he was peaceful.  He seems to enjoy going for walks.  My friend will be hosting out of town guests all month long so she’s a bit busy herself.  We finally made it and Special K got to hang out with their friends.  I think they got the baby fever, you could see it in their eyes.  Ah, new love.  So sweet, so naive.

The opening ceremonies were beautiful!  And it was sad, too, when there was a moment of silence for Nodar Kumaritashvili. Quite horrified that the news showed the video of his death – we were stunned.  I sobbed and hugged my son.

DH arrived safely later that night, exhausted.  Not looking forward to when he goes away again  but at least, I now know what to expect.

First, I’m calling the dog walkers again, 2nd, I’m NOT doing as much housework/laundry, 3rd I’m not even going to try and eat meals – think more like cheese and crackers or smoothies and most importantly, I’m going to have company over or go out for at least one lunch with a friend.

****

A friend generously offered to babysit for Valentine’s so we went OUT ALONE FOR DINNER – TOGETHER!  Yay!  We went to a favourite Italian restaurant – that oh so many years ago, we waited excitedly through a two week wait – on two occasions(!).  We’ve come full circle. It was nice.  Really nice.  I didn’t even call home.  When we got home, I checked in on him and he woke up so I got to put him to bed.  Undoubtedly one of my favourite things to do with him.  Changed him into his jammies, swaddled him (arms barely tucked), rocked him and sang him an African lullaby(sort of)  and he drifted off.  Life is good!

*********************

Guess who’s meeting Anacyclopedia tomorrow!  Me!  With our sons!  How cool is that?! Whee!

*********************

The dog is still having issues with her bowels.  She acts fine and eats normally but there’s still a bit of blood.  The vet advises Pepto Bismol – I swear to god if that old man is wrong, I’m going to wring his neck.

The cat’s away….

DH is away til Friday night on business, so it’s just me, JuJu and McSquealy  in the house for a few days.  The dog walker showed up to rescue me from the dog’s plaintive eyes.  It was such a glorious day and she was wondering what the hell was up, why weren’t we outside?  I was worried about her not wanting to go without me, but I should not have worried.  She recognized him and went happily off to have an adventure hike with her doggy pals.

So, it was just me and K hanging out.  He’s on a growth spurt apparently cause he’s eating every couple of hours and napping only 15-20 min at a time.  I can’t complain too much cause he’s been sleeping all night….so far.  I don’t want to jinx myself.  I changed his formula in hopes of improving his eczema, but I’m not holding my breath.  It seems that I have to spend a fair bit of time inspecting his skin for encroaching rash or  skin folds for residue and trying to file down his razor sharp nails.  And I can only do that after he has fed and is in a mellow mood to put up with my poking and prodding.  He loathes (cue screaming)  being changed but as soon as it’s done, it’s all smiles and coos.

We even managed a quick walk in the sunshine and when I returned, I had a tired, happy dog at home.  Lovely.  Now if she would just stop having to poo so often that she needs to whine at the door while I try to calm a crying infant.  Now that’s a lovely chorus.  I had to stuff a squealing baby in the infant carrier and take her out but  luckily the outing did them both good.  Dinner was cold, dried out chicken strips and fries.  Yum. Now I see the need to eat instead of clean while he naps cause apparently he didn’t get the memo about  a hungry mummy is a cranky mummy.  I’m glad I didn’t play superwoman and bring my mum over for dinner.  McSquealy had me pretty busy  entertaining and feeding him. All in all, not bad though.  We even squeezed in a video call with DH.

Now how do single women do this again?  Well, I suppose I could if I had to and in the coming months, when DH travels,  I will have to figure out what works best for us.  Yes, I could have inflicted myself on my friends, but I like to do things on my own cause I have a reputation to maintain.

SW Visit #1

Good news is that we finally had our first (of 3 ) social worker post placement visits.  We had to arrange an early morning appointment because hubby had to go to work and that was the only available time last week.  Yes, I filled out the 6 page questionnaire.  Check.  Printed out a family pic on our printer.  Check.  Got up 30 minutes before she arrived.  Check.  Don’t ask me how we both showered, dressed, vacuumed and got the baby ready.

It went well, DH looked appropriately besotted with him and showed off Special K’s attempts to stand up in his lap.  She asked about his feeding, sleeping habits, how we were coping.  We commented that being closer to the grave than most young’uns gave us more patience and maturity with adjusting to a newborn’s demands. Well, something that sounded like that.  I don’t think that statement is entirely accurate, but it sounded good.  You know, having a puppy was actually more difficult in a way.  At least the kid doesn’t crap and pee all over my wool rugs and chew up my Lululemon.  Though Special K did spit up on my cashmere.  I shall have to remember to give him the drycleaning bill when he’s 18.

There was a question on the survey regarding the extended family’s reaction.  I put down that he was loved and adored by all.  I wasn’t kidding.  Later that day we received a gift from my husband’s cousin’s IN-LAWS addressed to Special K.

We are so fortunate.