Location, location

Just so you know, we looked at 2 houses this week.  One is a definite possibility but it’s a bit of transit commute for DH, but the neighbourhood is really nice.  The house is older, the kitchen is not great, but it has 3 bedrooms, an office, a backyard, a deck, the heat is ELECTRIC  (READ DAMN EXPENSIVE) and TWO BATHROOMS. There’s great shopping nearby, places to walk the dog (though I didn’t see a dog park but the endowment lands is only minutes away by car) and most importantly, I can get a damn coffee.

We met with the landlord of House #2 (the cute one with the white picket fence).  He was quite the character, a very chatty intellectual type who had very fond memories of the fruit trees he planted out back.  It’s an old Arts and Crafts heritage home smack dab in the neighbourhood I used to live in.  So I finally got a good look around and… it’s not going to work for us.  Since only the first floor is livable, it’s gonna be too tight for us.  Plus it’s more expensive than the first one.   There was a small room that could serve as a nursery, but it’s at the other end of the walk in (thru) closet (and it’s not really a walk in closet anyway).  It was very cool, I have so say though.

I’m a little disappointed at the amount of money some of these places cost and how much work the tenants end up having to do to make it their own.  What do landlords have against decent light fixtures?  You can get some really nice ones on sale at Canadian Tire.

I feel like I’m on that show, Location, Location –  now I just need property #3 to view.  Ohmigod, choosing a new place sucks.

Tired crank bottom

On Monday, I took the Precious with me to a late audition.  It’s not something I enjoy doing but getting a sitter for was not really worth it as DH was going to be home by the time I got back.  I am so used to having tunnel vision when I prep for an audition, so it’s always a challenge for me with the little guy trailing me.  I’m running around, trying to get dressed, make sure I have my sides (script) which he’s always grabbing, get him dressed and ready to go (after chasing him around), I make it to the parking garage and realize I forgot his puffs so I have to carry him back up to get it.  I left in plenty of time, miraculously the traffic was light  and honestly, he was great.  He’s always great and no problem.  There is always someone I know to keep him entertained.  I always worry he’s going to cry when I go in the room, but he never does.  I only had one line and do you think I could get it right when I opened my mouth?  Sigh.  I nailed it the second time, but I felt immediately that I didn’t get it.  Can you imagine interviewing for  different jobs over and over and not getting them?  It can be disheartening for sure.  Yet I should be used to it, right?  Lately, I’m dreading the phone calls from my agent.

By the time I had returned, DH was back from work, I had a chance to grab something to eat and then go chant with my district.  It did lift my spirits as it always does.  We chatted afterwards and I was encouraged to see my son as my support as opposed to my burden.  That’s a good goal for me.  I often feel so fractured, never feeling like I’m concentrating fully in the moment.  I get caught up in trying to accomplish so many little things during the day and nothing ever really gets done the way I would like.  I get frustrated and then the little bugger looks up and grins at me and I am goofy with love.

I was so tired yesterday, I was actually drinking an energy drink out of a coffee cup.  You know who had us up again the night before and I managed to spill water all over him during the night (forgot to put the ring in the bottle and the nipple fell through), then I had to change him, all the while with him screeching in my ear.  I got a headache.  DH took over and had him settled in five minutes.  I have to say he’s definitely more relaxed about it than I am.  I feel bad cause he’s awake and he has to get up early and go to work. I want to get one thing “right”.  Yeah, I know, I know.  As if.   But instead of napping, I did some househunting on Craigslist and made two appointments to see houses.   I’m not thrilled, but DH has left it all up to me (he’s very occupied at work)  and the sooner I get it over with, the better.  There’s just not a heck of a lot of choice this time of year.  I hate change.  I also hate the thought of settling. You might call it a compromise but it feels like settling.  I think it’s because I just want my own home.  But we’re not ready for that yet. Patience, patience.   So not good with that.

Later, I had to ask him to take the kid with him on his walk with the dog.  Imagine that.  Poor DH, he was tired himself and asked if I would rather “take a break” and walk the dog.  Hahahaha.  No.   I actually hit the wall and fell asleep.

Adoption in the news

Well, its out of the bag – Oprah has a half sister.  Her mother gave birth to a girl and gave her up for adoption. I say gave her up for adoption because in those days, she left the baby behind in the hospital and had no idea where she went. The details are here. What struck me was that the sister said her kids had prompted her to investigate her origins.  She had no idea that they didn’t feel complete either and that had never occurred to her because she thought well, she was there for them.  Of course, I thought of the Precious and wondered about how his adoption will impact his life.  I’ve been reading recent posts about open adoption and imagined his birth mother meeting him for the first time.  How old will he be?  What will it be like? What happens if she asks to meet him sooner rather than later?  What about his birth father?  Will he be around?

And speaking of celebrities and adoption, did you catch Oprah’s show with Ricky Martin?  Oprah asked him what he would tell his twin boys (whom he had via surrogate) about their biological mother.  He said the surrogate didn’t want an open relationship and that he would be both mum and dad to them.   Actually what I don’t think they mentioned is that he used an egg donor and then transferred the embryo into the surrogate/gestational mother.  Hate to have to explain that to a 4 year old (I don’t think Ricky is thinking that far ahead), but I suppose I’m going to have to my hands full when the Precious figures out he’s a little darker than daddy.  I’m sure other people will point it out to him anyway.

Which brings me to this post from Single Dad Laughing. “How much did your kid cost?” was the question to him in FRONT OF HIS KID!  Yep, I’ve had that question asked several times already.  The answer depends on who’s asking and how the question is actually asked.  Usually someone might say Oh, that must have been expensive to get him as a newborn and I go, yup.  And then I say, but I could have gotten a Filipino baby for a third of the price!  And then I change the subject.  Cause that’s how I roll, ladies and gentlemen.  Other times, I say, that’s inappropriate and look them dead in the eyes.  That look, by the way, can stop a freight train.  The foolhardy might press on, but eventually they smell their hair burning and they stop.

Mmmm, interesting – thoughts, comments?

 

 

 

wishy washy me

I got a two week pass for a yoga studio that had spinning late at night, followed by a little yoga.  I’ve gone twice.  However, that is two more times than I went last  month, so there.  I went once with my teeny tiny girlfriend that I can fit into one of my pant legs.  She says she’s fat, which means really that she never lost the last 10 lbs of baby weight and can’t fit into her size 2’s anymore.  I love her to bits really and I love her energy.  She laughs at my jokes and encourages me whenever I get too negative. I wish we could get together more often, but ah, the lives of two very busy women!

Now I just have to turn it into a habit.  And lose the habit of snacking on candy.  I do that when I’m bored.  I’m bored  means I need a little excitement in my life and chocolate is about as exciting as it gets around here.   I’ve noticed that hubby has taken to eating candy/chocolate and falling asleep on the couch.   His means of stress relief I guess.   Yet, it’s a new year and I really want to do better than last year. I’m feeling inspired because I’m not in any pain anymore.  That helps a lot.  I want to be able to carry my son on my back and go for a hike.

Speaking of hikes, …. yeah, there’s no connection here at all…. still haven’t found a place.  Still looking, and I am being taunted with places in the neighbourhood I’m dying to move back into and of course,they are all one bathroom homes – and then there’s all sorts of wonderful places in neighbourhoods I can’t stand or I’m not sure I can get a pizza delivered to – two bathrooms homes.  There is a particular thing that is driving me a little batty – a lot of places in so called desirable neighbourhoods do not post any pics of the place  – so I have no idea of whether it’s a waste or time or not to go and see it.  Yeah, I’m fussy.  Hubby is of course, laying the whole thing on me and my two bathroom obsession.  I’m wavering.  The clock is ticking.

School for babies

I finally get around to going to a new spin class.  I got a two week pass at the cool yoga place (that has spinning and yoga class at 8:15pm) for $30 that’s too far to walk  in the cold dark so I drive around and around to find a cheap parking space.  There isn’t any but if you go late you can find a parking metre maybe for two bucks for 40 minutes. I’ve gone precisely once.  The weekend went by in a blur (mum, errands, sleeping in).  I had a study meeting Monday night, DH had an arts board meeting Tuesday night, and we went to an open house of a private school for tots last night.  I had seen an ad for this place in a west coast family magazine.  It’s a free small magazine full of the latest, coolest things for your tots and articles of kid care and such.  BFF mentions that she’s going to the open house to check it out.  I’ve already gone to the website to check out the fees.  Some of the centres have programs for kids less than 2 yrs old.  2 days a week is just over $800 a month.  Did I mention they have a full time chef there?  No baby puffs for snack time here, my friends.   5 days a week is about $1500 a month.  Now I do have to say that these costs aren’t really out of line compared to other day care centres.  There is one a few blocks from here that I often pass on my walks and their fees for toddlers are almost equivalent, give or take a few hundred dollars. There is also a mandatory uniform package.  The curriculum is excellent by the looks of it and of course, once junior graduates Junior Kindergarten 3, he’s all but a shoe-in for the well known private school next door.  I watch my little boy wander about in the rooms amusing himself with this and that and I start to think about his sponge like mind and how curious he is about other kids.

And so it begins. I assume that my friend only has to worry about which location she likes before she enrolls her little cupcake, but I’m freaking out already.

I didn’t get the gig I thought I was going to get. I was short listed for it, but my agent told me they “went another way”.   By the way, THAT ruined my day.  It came on the heels of a “Nice, thank you” audition that I thought I rocked.  I sooo wanted that role, for no other reason that it was funny and interesting and against type.  I’m actually HOPING to get an interview to do p/t secretarial work for a small fishery company.  Crazy.  That is the voice of the demon that says how on earth are you going to pay for this kid’s education?

Friggin’ preschool for a couple of days a week is an expensive way of get a little time off to get a pedicure.  I’ll be contemplating that on a spin bike tonight.

Still looking for my future home

Okay, I put up a little piece of paper by my Gohonzon describing my perfect house.  I forgot to put in 2 washrooms.  Guess what – found a perfect little house – with only one washroom.  It happens to be around the corner of where we used to live years ago.  Once my mother picked a blossom off it’s hydrangea tree that’s in the front yard.   There was a family living there and when I saw the mum and her child I would wave and say hello as Sampson and I walked by.  It even has a white picket fence.  The landlord called me back when I left a message inquiring about it.  We had a delightful 20 minute conversation about its history and found that we had a few things in common.  He loves families and pets.  It was a bit more money and it had an unfinished basement (why, oh, why is it unfinished????? oh, that’s right, cause if the landlord did something with it it would be even more money).

Then of course, a friend forwarded me another listing – under budget, 2 bedrooms. and a den – sounds perfect – except it’s in a condo.  Yes, it has 2 washrooms.  See?

Not funny, universe, not funny.

Doing it like regular folk

The Precious made it through his shots like a champ.  Not something I was looking forward to, but he took it better than I thought.  He only cried (pitifully) for a few minutes and then it was over.  No side effects.  I asked the doc about his stinky stools, but she said unless he was throwing up, it was probably due to his diet.  So I adjusted appropriately and he’s back to being stinky but not runny.  Glad you asked, eh?

I had a taste of what most people have to deal with – that is, I had to work and cram in the rest of life around it.  I got a last minute request for notetaking and I couldn’t get a sitter so my dear MIL came in on an earlier ferry to accommodate my work schedule.  Did you know that it takes her about 3 hrs to get here?  She’s a dedicated grandma.   The night before of course, the little bugger had me up twice (he was starving apparently) and the following morning he decided to get up super early and NOT TAKE A NAP.  Which meant of course, I was trying to get all my preparations done with him trailing me around the house.  I think at one point where I was trying to make dinner (for everyone else) I thought briefly about sitting down and crying cause I was so effing tired, but I shook it off and thought he doesn’t want to sleep, he just wants you.  So sit down and just be with him. It’s amazing how he picks up my anxiety about trying to get everything done and get out the house. It’s like he knows I’ve got somewhere to go and does everything he can to stop me.

I’ve started implementing “quiet” time with him in his playpen having a snack and amusing himself.  Of course, it’s not always “quiet” but lucky for me, the vacuum cleaner is louder than he is.  As soon as I switch it off, he goes back to keening to be let out of baby jail.   By the time he fell asleep in his high chair after lunch, I had to wake him up so I could go pick up MIL at the bus station.  Then I went off to work, typed in the dark and tried not to fall asleep.  The next day, I was actually driving the clients around to respondents homes and then taking live notes there, not something I usually do, but I’m flexible.  Odd, at one point, I’m in my own neighbourhood having lunch with them, and I had the odd sensation that I should be home.  It was weird not pushing a stroller with a dog during the day.

Ah, finally to date night where DH and I attended a sushi making course at a local cook shop.  It was lots of fun and we had the opportunity to make our own sushi and eat it!  Really could have used a Red Bull to wash it down.  Of course, we’ll never actually do it so the offer for a discount at the cooking store on sushi making supplies was wasted on us. Washing rice in ice cold water.  Hmmmm.  I actually used to do that back in the day – when I had time.  Hahahahah.  I’m trying to improve my meal planning skills, and yes I have a crockpot – somewhere in the bowels of my cupboards.  Must get it out.

Dog tired, we come home and then I proceed to undo my hair because the next day I’m getting my hair did (cause I was starting to look like Medusa) and that means I have to take my hair out, wash it and  blow dry it at midnight.  The woman who does my hair (for less than a car payment)  is moving back to Toronto to work on a show and it is the only day I have free to get it done.  So I take MIL back to the  ferry terminal (1.5 hr total driving time) and several hours later, I return home with a sore head, a bag full of baby crack puffs from a local superstore,  and a hankering for a glass of wine.  Hubby shoots out the door to go hang with his stoner buddy for a couple of hours cause he’s been with the kid the whole day.  Really?  I wonder what that’s like.  Of course, he has woo’d me with my favourite Malaysian meal of black  cod with ginger sauce and rice and spring rolls.  Well, I guess we all have our vices. I can be placated with food so easily.

The kid is now back to eating but now he wants what we have on our plates, so we are playing switcheroo with his food (mmm, mashed carrots and peas,mmmmm) and using our utensils to feed him. Baby spoons are for 13 month olds, not 14 month olds apparently. Silly me.

I’m also back to auditioning – have one tomorrow – oh, man, come on, mojo, mama needs a gig.

PS.  I’m going to do something wonderful for my wonderful MIL!

For crying out loud – part 2

Okay, now that the Precious has decided he will try foods other than processed pasta dishes, he has diarrhea now.  It’s mild, but it’s decidedly offensive.  Being a dog owner, I’m used to talking about poo.  Ever since Sampson, we got into this habit of what we called the morning poo report.  And having Princess Juno and her delicate stomach made us get into graphic detail that would make most sensible people ill.  Now we having the morning poo report with the Precious.

He likes chickpea and vegetable curry. At least he did for the first few times he had it.  He’s done with it now. Then I tried pasta with organic tomato sauce with pureed veggies, then turkey with mashed potatoes and veggies.  Luckily, he does not an immediate reaction, but he does seems to wake up at 4am with a stench that could knock down a rhino.  And of course, there’s the organic homo milk I’ve been giving him lately.  Then hubby decided on the weekend to put cereal in his bedtime bottle.  So it’s not surprise he’s crapping more than he used to.  I googled all the possibilities, but we’re going to the doctor today anyway for the dreaded shots, so I’ll talk about it with her.  He doesn’t seem to be bothered by it at all – well, beside turning into an Olympic wrestler when I try to change his diaper.  A very loud, screaming Olympic wrestler.  I’ve tried a firm tone when he does this, a hand over his torso with a stern rebuke, mocking him, self deprecating humour,  delightful toys  or objects to hold (usually when he holds something he calms down) but I suppose he just doesn’t care to be interrupted from his machinations to be changed.  Even when he smells like a barnyard.

Okay, I hear his siren call – pray for me.

For crying out loud

Omigod, just when I think we’re turning the corner with  the Precious sleeping the night through, we have one of those nights that leaves me feeling like shattered crystal.  He’s an awesome kid, so awesome, but these so called wonder weeks are killing me.  Just before Christmas, we had him almost completely weaned off formula and sleeping through the night 4 nights in a row.  I was giddy with relief.  Then all the hubbub of Christmas arrived and because we had the in-laws staying with us, we went back to going to him when he woke up crying in the night.  Post Christmas, it was back to business and my sleep holiday was over.  Back to letting him cry it out during the night. About half of the time he does sleep through the night, but the other half occurs during my M – F shift.  Haha.

Let me say first that I tried going in the room to reassure him and all that.  That resulted in me sitting there for hours getting my eardrums shattered.  So I elected to stay out of the room.  We can hear him whether the monitor is on or off anyway.  He makes a peep and I hear it.  After 10 – 15 minutes of shrieking like he’s being set on fire and me imagining his leg is caught between the crib slats and is broken, he goes back to sleep.  He’s just fine and dandy in the morning.  Now the nights he just kind of cries like a protest, I know he’s going to go back to sleep soon.  One night he shrieked so loud I had to cover my ears with my hands under the blanket while hubby assured me he was fine. Just as I went to get him a warm bottle of water, he fell asleep.

Last night, he started out mildly protesting, with periods of silence and as soon as I would drift off, he would start up again.  This went on for about an hour.  Or so it seemed.  Now’s it’s 3 in the morning and I’m wide awake and I made the blunder of going into the pit.  He drinks a bit of water and then proceeds to bite the nipple and chat to himself.  He’s doing his routine of stroking my cheek, peering up into my silent face and then chatting to himself.  He doesn’t appear hungry.  He had a big pasta dinner and went to bed easily.  So I get impatient and put him down.  He goes nuts and starts screaming like a banshee.   Hubby comes in.  UNINVITED.  His daddy arrived and I had the nerve to send him back out  because by golly, I’m the mother and I can do this!  High pitched shrieking and thrashing commences.   I’m done.  So I hand him off to hubby and go back to bed.  DH has him back down in 10 minutes.  I can’t sleep.  I feel like a loser mummy who can’t handle her kid.  I finally get to sleep and at 5:30 you know who is back up and yelling.  I get warm diluted formula and plug up the screaming hole.  Not enough, so I give him water.  Nope! We journey to the kitchen to flavour it up a bit with formula.  I guess he was starving.  Then he starts his comedy show with his blankie like he’s entertaining the troops.  Eventually he laughs himself to sleep.  Back to bed for miserable mama.

By 9am, soaked through and smelling like a horse barn, the Precious (I am seriously considering changing his nickname) is up and ready to rumble.  I’m now wondering if it was the pasta sauce he had on his noodles.  A reaction to acidity?  I made it with my won little hands and didn’t use a lot at all.  It hardly seems likely cause there’s no sour smell on his breath from reflux or rash and as long as he gets his milk, he’s fine.  Guess what he had for lunch today.  And …. after I put him down for a nap and started this post – something he normally does quite well….. he woke up again yelling and crying.  Only a bottle calmed him.  A piece of dark chocolate with ginger calmed me.

Suggestions please.  Before I get any fatter.

On the hunt

So commences the search for a new place.  We have an appointment to see a place today in our desired location.  I’m trying to work up some enthusiasm.  The ridiculous prices in this  neighbourhood  are not helping.  I’m just having a hard time settling for less than what I currently have – which is tons of space, a 2nd bathroom and a dishwasher.

The very thought of moving sends shivers down my spine.  However, I’ll be glad to move out of the downtown core.  As convenient as it has been, and one of the most beautiful parks in the country steps from my door, I’m ready to move on.   We’re about a year or so from buying a permanent home, so I had better land a well paying gig real soon!