It's been a while

It's been a wild, crazy summer. I've had so much going on, both professionally and personally, that something had to give and, unfortunately, what gave was my blogging time. I have had so many ideas I wanted to write down, or started to write down, but never got to complete. There are so many things I want to get done and only so many hours in a day. Getting into all of the details would be far, far more than one (or even 8) blog posts could handle, so I won't even attempt it. I'll just highlight, and say that most of the changes have been really good. Also, I didn't stop writing entirely. I feel a little silly admitting this, but I wrote a book. It's a lighthearted piece of fluff, but one I think is good enough that I'm now working on getting it published. (Wish me luck!) So that's been sucking up any potential blogging time I might have had.
So what are the big changes and highlights? First of all, there's work. I got a new job! This has been one of the best changes in my life since Miss B was born. I interviewed for this job mostly because it was away from my old supervisor (who was bad enough, and crazy enough, that I actually had to file a complaint against her with HR sometime in the last year--and the problems didn't stop, I just tried to keep my head down until I could find a way out) and because I would get a small pay raise. Well, the new job is better than I expected. I'm actually really enjoying it as a job. The tasks are fun, and my coworkers and supervisor are really supportive and friendly. I've worked with them before, so I did know that going into the job. But it's refreshing, after hating work and being so stressed out about it for so long, to have going to work suddenly be pretty good. And that small pay raise? It turns out that moving up a level the way I did entitled me to a 10% pay raise, rather than the $.50 or so that I thought it would be. Now, I keep thinking of this quote, but my raise is nothing to sneeze at. It's enough that when Shane told me his campus job from the last two semesters is only taking on grad students this semester, we were able to be happy about it rather than stressed. We don't *need* the money from that job anymore, and now he gets to be home with Miss B more which makes finding babysitters for his class time much easier. He's still working his weekend job, and we're staying afloat. It's a good feeling.
Miss B herself is thriving. She's 10 months old today! I can hardly believe it, although my thoughts keep turning to the upcoming 1st birthday party. I'm excited to plan it. We're going to ask the grandparents not to go crazy on gifts, and tell friends that gifts are unnecessary, because she's turning 1 and doesn't have any expectations and won't remember it anyway.
We've finally got some of her sleeping problems settled. She's been in her own crib for several months now, and I miss the co-sleeping less than I thought I would. Don't get me wrong, sleepy baby snuggles are awesome. But she was pinching and scratching and kicking us toward the end there and we were being driven crazy. So the move into her own sleeping space has been a really great thing for all of us. She still doesn't want to go to sleep, and usually wakes herself up several times after we put her in bed, but once she's out we get only two wakeup calls during the night, to eat and be changed.
She's thoroughly mobile now, on the cusp of walking. She has a baby walker which she can push around the living room and has quickly gotten really good at it. And she can stand for at least 30 seconds on her own. I've seen her eyeing distances between furniture like, "Hmm, could I walk there?" before she decides that the answer is "no" and drops to a crawl.
She calls us by our slave names, "Mama" and "Dada". She even started calling one grandmother "Nana". Very exciting. It adds an extra level of pathos when I'm trying to make dinner and she crawls over to me, pulls herself up to stand clutching my leg, and says, "Ma! Mama!" because she wants to be held. Since she's so very curious I've been trying to get her involved in cooking as much as possible. She loves it. I'll pick her up once I've got all of the chopping and prep work done, and describe what I'm doing and why I'm doing it as I add ingredients to a dish. "See the onions? See how they're getting lighter and softer? They're almost ready." Yesterday she helped me make bread and was fascinated with the whole process. I let her eat a couple of small bites of dough and when I was kneading it she got some flour to play with. It's working really well for us to do things this way. She so wants to be like the big people that making her feel involved and important is going to be key as she grows up, I suspect.
As always, the summer garden had highlights and low moments. My potatoes were awful because it was the rainiest, wettest summer on record and they just didn't do well. Neither did any of my squashes. I got one--one!--zucchini. Thankfully, a friend got quite a few so she shared with me, and I grabbed some from the farmer's market. Others of my plants did really well, though. Carrots and lettuce went crazy. We had at least one big dinner salad each week this summer, with enough leftovers to be lunch the next day. So we worked with what we had, and I'm filling in now with farmer's market produce to shore up supplies for the winter. Because it's Fairbanks, and as cliche as it has become to say, winter is coming.
Last day for the market is this Saturday. I'm sad, but excited too. I love autumn. All of the gorgeous colors, the different foods we're eating now. It's glorious. Here's a picture I took on a bike ride last weekend:

Beautiful. I live in such a gorgeous place.
That being said, we're working on eating up all of our stores of food by next May, because we're planning to move. Out of Alaska. There are so very many reasons why--Shane can get a better job in another state, I want to be closer to my parents, etc.--but it's still not an easy decision to make. I have a running "pros and cons" list in my head and it comes out about even for both moving and staying. Shane is more excited to move than I am, actually, and without his enthusiasm we would probably stay here. As it is, I'm trying to think only of the positives and not what I will miss so much about Fairbanks. Perhaps we'll come back to live here again someday. At the very least, we have friends here so it won't be a permanent goodbye.
Right now it is definitely the busy season. I'm trying to preserve as much good, local food as possible, trying to get out for bike rides and walks as much as we can while the weather is nice (I love our bike trailer), and at the same time trying to focus on indoor pursuits. I haven't knitted, well, anything in the past two years, so I want to correct that. I've had a sweater which was half finished when I got pregnant and then realized that I wouldn't be able to wear it for about a year anyway so I never finished it. I'm doing so now. Then I want to make a couple of toddler hats (I found an adorable and warm pattern from a Norwegian woman whose last name was my maiden name--distant relative perhaps?), some baby mittens, and maybe some baby sweaters and baby boots (we'll see about the boots--she's got mukluks which would be much warmer, but will they fit during the early part of winter?), as well as some items for Christmas presents.
I also interlibrary loaned a whole pile of books which I've been frantically trying to read before their assigned due dates. Most of them, I've had to request a renewal.
As if all of this wasn't enough, I started a workout program on Monday. T25, so it's supposedly only 25 minutes a day. But then I have to factor in procrastination (I pick up all the toys in the living room so that I can actually workout without stepping on something potentially dangerous) and shower time. The workout is kicking my butt and just what I need to really get back into shape. Walking and biking have been great, but I need more core work and the only work my arms have gotten is lifting and carrying the babe. It's not nothing, but I'd rather not get hurt because I was neglecting to work my arms and shoulders.
So that's what I've been doing the last few months. What about you? How was your summer?

Life, the Universe, and Everything

Ok, I'm not really going to talk about the Universe. I lied. But I do have a bunch of other cool, and some not-so-cool, things to talk about on varying subjects.
As you may have noticed, I really haven't written much lately. Turns out, becoming a mom has taken away much of my free time. I would have more if my child napped with any consistency or for any length, but she doesn't so I don't. *shrug* What time I do have is usually spent catching up on chores, or just reading. You never realize how much mental energy it takes to keep up with a child and work full-time until you have to do it. Add in tax season and craziness at work (annual evaluations with a completely crazy supervisor, woo) and I've been feeling a little overwhelmed. But in some ways, it's brought me to a good place. It's all forced me to take a good look at my wants and needs, to figure out what is unnecessary stress in my life. Take my garden, for instance. What will be the most satisfying for me? Well, obviously I want to still garden. But, fighting with the weeds and grass in the actual dirt area we have isn't working for me any more. I don't have the time, and I don't have the money to make it right. So this year I'm focusing solely on my garden boxes. However, I am willing to put more time and money into those than I have been. Since they're also the most productive part of my garden, the ROI should be pretty good. And I don't have to stress about what I haven't been doing.
The other benefit of the garden boxes is that they're portable. It sounds like we'll have to move out of our place sometime soon. We were really hoping to stay here until we move out of Alaska (sometime next summer-Shane just found out that he'll finish his degree next Spring!) but there's been a change of regime. Our old landlord sold the duplex, and the new landlady wants to move in downstairs. For now, they've moved in upstairs. Apparently the plan is to fix up the upstairs (to try to rent it out for an exorbitant and crazy amount - $2500!!!) and then move downstairs, where we currently are. She hasn't given us a good timeline, so we're just trying to find something before we're forced to take something at the last minute. Bleh. Again, though, it's making us look around at our Stuff. What's necessary, what isn't? We might have to rent a smaller place, so what can/should we take with us and what should be gotten rid of? I'm paring down the baby stuff a bit (clothes which we were given but won't re-use for a second child, some of the baby blankets which we don't need) and I'm even going through a formerly untouchable category: my books. The idea is to pare down before we actually have to pack it all up.
We have also gained some things recently, however. One of Shane's relatives bought a couch (on clearance) which she didn't like when she got it home. So she bought another couch, and needed to get rid of this one. She gave it to us. Yay! We actually have a decent couch now! We got rid of the second half of our horrible, ugly, broken Cat Pee Couch (seriously, we discovered when we moved it that the cat had been peeing in one corner--thankfully, it was so uncomfortable that we never sat on it!) and put this lovely new couch in its place.
Our upstairs neighbors have moved out, since the new landlady is moving up there. Someone rang our doorbell by accident asking about a piece of furniture that they were selling, and that gave me an idea. The next time I saw them I asked if they had an old T.V. stand that they'd be willing to sell to me. The answer was, "Please, just take it! We don't want money for it, we just don't want to haul it away." So I got a free T.V. stand, in decent shape, to replace the rickety little bookshelf that our T.V. had been sitting on. Thus, we got rid of my biggest babyproofing worry: that she would pull the T.V. over on herself when she starts crawling and pulling herself up to stand. We'll attach the T.V. to the stand so that she can't pull just it over, but now we don't have to worry about the bookshelf and the T.V. falling over. The stand is nice and low and sturdy, just what we wanted. And, just like the couch it was at the right price: free.
In addition to the T.V. stand, one of the neighbors is a liquor distributor and didn't want to move a bunch of half empty tasting bottles he had around. So, he gave them to us. Yep, you read that right. Free booze. And not even a small amount, either. We're not talking bottom shelf liquor, but good stuff, and not all of it has been opened. At my household's normal rate of consumption this is more than 6 months worth of liquor, even assuming we throw a party or two (or bring some along to other parties). I used some of the vodka straight away to make vanilla extract, since I'd been meaning to buy vodka for that purpose for the last month but always forgot. Now, I don't have to worry about it for quite a while.
We went to Arctic Man over the weekend. For me, it really wasn't that interesting. It can be summed up by "A tribute to the decadence of the first world." Or "fat men on snowmachines who think they're so sporty...because they can ride a machine real fast." Ugh. Not my scene at all. the wastefulness of it all, the amount of oil that was burned just in this one weekend. Not to mention everything else. Because people were camped out, a lot of them scoured Craigslist for free couches that they didn't mind having around a campfire. And on the last night, all those couches got burned so that people didn't have to haul them out. !!!! Yeah, you can probably imagine what I felt about that. Then there were all of the motorhomes, and I'm sure lots of food waste and packaging and whatnot. I went for a walk with the baby at one point and a girl on a 4-wheeler stopped and asked me if I wanted a ride. She looked at me as if I was crazy. After all, who would want to walk, right? I said no, of course, and she said, "Oooo-kaaaay," as if she totally didn't get it. Wow. Just wow.
Anyway, we went because my in-laws were going with some friends, and my FIL hasn't seen the baby since New Year's. Unfortunately, she was mildly ill most of the weekend and, especially with the new circumstances, just wanted to be with me the whole weekend. Oh well. But the in-laws were also about to take a trip to Hawaii so they'd brought up a bunch of food for us. A lasagna, a ham (part of which was eaten there), some milk, and a bunch of fruit. Banana bread. So our food bill should be almost non-existent this week, which is nice, especially since we came home to a sick cat.
I took Monday off anyway to watch the ill baby (just a precaution) and myself (I was feeling under the weather too, I just didn't realize it until we got home), so making a vet appointment when I discovered that our cat was peeing blood (I know! poor guy!) wasn't as hectic as it could have been. Still, forcing the cat into the kennel (with gloves on) and taking him to the vet, yowling the whole way, and with the baby, wasn't the most pleasant of activities. I think I need to talk to my child about being kind to animals, though, because she thought his cries of distress were pretty hilarious.
Thankfully, it is *just* a bladder infection. His kidneys seem fine, and the peeing blood should stop within 48 hours. I wish I could tell him that. He might be more willing to take his medicine that way.
So, life goes on. You win some, you lose some. For the most part, things have been going really well for us. Finding out that Shane only has one more year of school was a huge, huge plus. We're nervous and excited because we're not sure where life will take us after that, but it will be good. I'm certain of it.

So, how's it going?

Every day is a whirlwind for us. Especially the evenings. We've fallen into a routine, but that doesn't mean the routine is particularly easy. For at least 1 1/2-2 hours in the evening, it seems like everything needs to get done. Dinner needs to be made, breakfast (if I'm making something baked) needs to be made, pets need to be fed, baby always needs to be fed and have a diaper change, it seems, which leads to realizing that we're totally out of diapers and so a load of laundry needs to be started, the overflowing dishes need to be done because the cook needs that item right there and all the space the dishes are taking up, the cat box needs to be cleaned out, some spill (or spitup) needs to be cleaned up and, oh crap, is it a bath night? Hurry hurry hurry! When we were in the midst of this the other night Shane paused and asked, "Do you remember when we used to relax in the evenings?"
Which is not to say that we don't relax. It might seem crazy for a short amount of time, but the before and after are quite nice. It's been warm enough in the afternoons to go for a decent walk when I get home from work. I strap baby into the Ergo, leash up the dog, make sure I'm wearing my ice cleats, and off we go for about half an hour. It's lovely. Miss B(aby) tends to suck her pacifier and keep her serious face on during the walks. I was a little worried that she wasn't enjoying them until Shane pointed out that not once in her life has she ever hesitated to tell us, quite loudly and vocally, when she wasn't enjoying something. Too, she tends to put on her serious face whenever she's trying to take in a lot. She's the same way at the grocery store, but she's also very quiet and well behaved so she must enjoy it at least a bit.
The reason I mentioned my ice cleats is because, well, I broke my wrist a couple of weeks ago. I know I mentioned before that it was already hurting and I was starting to suspect a stress fracture. Well, I fell on it one day when I took the dog for a short walk (for which the dog is totally to blame), and then slipped and fell on it again later in the same week. It hurt bad enough that a couple days after that I decided to go to the urgent care clinic. I have, according to the doctor, a buckle fracture in my left wrist. So I need to wear a hard brace for 6 weeks (I talked the doctor out of making me see an orthopedist to get it casted) and I'm already sick of it. This is all exactly what we needed, more medical bills and for me to not be at 100% again. I'm somewhat annoyed with my dog (I had the baby in the Ergo when I was tripped, and she nearly fell out), but then I have to remind myself that she's an old lady and she tripped me not on purpose, but just because she was so damn happy and excited to be out for a walk. She's going blind, and we think she's starting to go deaf as well. Poor dear, she didn't know what she was doing. Her life has changed, she's not getting all of the walks and runs and attention from me that she's used to. Sometimes that's hard to remember.
After the crazy part of the evening, though I need to be with her (still) for her to sleep, Miss B is usually asleep sometime between 8:30-9:15. After she's asleep I read, with her snuggled up against my side, until I get sleepy and then curl up with her and go almost instantly to sleep. It's hard to complain about that.
As crazy as life at home has been, life at work has been even worse, filled with uncertainty and, frankly, having to deal with crazy people and crazy ideas. I won't go into it, because this isn't the right time or place, but it's been stressful, annoying, and just plain hard to deal with at times. It makes leaving my baby every day that much harder.
As if everything else wasn't quite enough, our duplex was purchased and, though we'd been told by the realtor that the new owner wanted to keep renting to us, I met the new owner this past week and she said that she'd like to move into our unit, not the upstairs as we'd been originally told. When I asked for a timeline she said "one to six months, I'm not sure." Oh goodie. Apparently she's going to fix up the upstairs unit a bit first, while living there, and then move downstairs. So, Shane and I were hoping that we could stay in this place until we moved out of Alaska and it doesn't look like that's going to happen. *sigh* We're trying to figure out what our options are.
You'd think that life would have slowed down a little bit this week, because it's spring break here, but not really. Shane gets to be home with Miss B during the days, but that just means that he needs some time to himself in the evenings. I do get tomorrow off, though, so I'm trying to hang onto my 3 day weekend. I'm sure it will go by far too fast, to be in proportion with how long this relatively short work week has felt.
The very big "however" to all of this is that I'm still managing to take care of myself pretty well. In fact, now that I'm pretty much totally recovered from the c-section, I'm doing my best to put myself first once in a while. I've started running regularly again! Just on weekends, but it's still progress, and last weekend I was actually able to extend one of my runs, so I'm getting back into shape. I carve this time out for myself when I get the baby back to sleep on weekend mornings. I lay her down with Shane (who's either sleeping in or very happy to have an excuse to nap himself) and then I lace up, grab the dog, and go. If I'm really, really lucky, she'll sleep long enough to let me do a few other exercises (like core exercises), stretch, and take a shower. Ok, that really only happened once so by lucky I mean, in my fantasies.
When Breakup really starts and the snow has melted a bit more, when Baby Girl is big enough to go in the jogger, I'll start adding weeknight runs into the rotation. For now, we'll stick with our walks on weeknights. That's about my pace in the evenings, after work. Just enough time and distance to get the benefits of exercise, without it feeling like exercise.
I'm losing the weight I wanted to lose, and though it seems slow to me, it really isn't. I'm losing about the pound/week that's recommended as a healthy pace. And the best part is that I'm not depriving myself at all. Our birthdays are at the beginning of March and this year I made a giant skillet cookie for my birthday, and a key lime pie for Shane's. (See in the pie recipe how it's supposed to be two layers? Yeah, I need to learn to read directions when I'm trying a new recipe. I mixed it all up together and then realized what I'd done. So I tossed in an extra egg and hoped for the best. It still turned out great!) I've since made the skillet cookie again, and I probably will make it again this weekend. It's so much sugar but damn, it's tasty. Even Shane, not normally a fan of cookies, loves it.
I've gotta say, drinking a big glass of whole milk most days is helping me with my weight loss. I'll feel a bit hungry after dinner, drink my milk, and still usually be a bit hungry but not so much that I feel the need to eat. Just as good, I've noticed that it helps with my milk production. And, with a broken wrist, the extra calcium is doing me some good.
So life is crazy, but for the most part I am enjoying it. Baby Girl has learned to laugh, so Shane and I spend a good portion of our time trying to get her to laugh some more. Just as there are no diminishing returns on the humor of baby farts, baby giggles solve all problems and make life infinitely better.

2014 is

The holidays are over, finally. I say it that way, but I love the holidays. Christmas is one of my favorite times of the year, and ringing in the New Year does, of course, lend itself to thoughts of what I want in the upcoming year. 2013 was pretty damn fabulous, and 2014 is going to have to work hard to beat it.
Unfortunately, we started with more of a bang than anyone wants. On January 2nd, my dad had a heart attack. A big one, according to my mom (and his doctors). He's alive and recovering, but it's been scary for us all. Every time I talk to my mom she still sounds shaken by how close she came to losing him. My dad sounds a bit sheepish, like he's ashamed of scaring us all so much. He's young, still in his early 60s, and he apparently had a treadmill test in September that looked good so no one's quite sure where the blockages came from.
They told me not to come home, but it's frustrating to be so far away. The first time I got to talk to my mom (the initial contact was with my brother) I asked how my dad was doing and she said, "Oh, well, we can talk about that later." NO, WE FUCKING CAN'T. (I did not say it that way to her.) But she put my dad on the phone, and that was a bit reassuring. They both keep trying to ask me how I'm doing, as if that matters right now. So when they do I've been cheering them up with stories of their granddaughter.
So, that's what's going on with me right now. Pardon me if I don't write much. Between the baby, the concerns with home, and an upcoming visit from two of my brothers, my life is a bit chaotic right now. I don't even know what to write about. In comparison to all of the family stuff, being excited about my consignment shop sales (so I only had to pay $4 for a pair of jeans there, jeans that actually fit my post-pregnancy, post C-section self) seems pretty lame.
Baby Girl grew out of the newborn size of clothing over the holidays so I washed them all and put away the ones we want to keep and took the ones we didn't like (pink freaking cheetah print) to a children's consignment shop. While I was there I bought a (used) bouncy seat so that we can get small breaks. It worked. She took a long nap in the seat after I got it home, and I was able to use two hands when making my breakfast today. Of course, I then had to nurse her as soon as breakfast was actually made, so I ate cold oatmeal a while later. :)
In other positive news, breastfeeding is going much better. I used the pump a lot over the holidays, both to try to build up my supply and to have some milk on hand so that Shane and I could have some baby-free time. We actually got to go on a date to see "The Hobbit"! It was lovely. We dressed up a little bit, went out to dinner, then went back to the house for a short while since the deli we wanted to eat at (Jersey Subs--go there, it's amazing) closed early and the movie didn't start until almost 10:00. So when we left for the movie Shane said, "Um, I'm pretty sure my shirt has a pee spot on it." (We discovered just before we left that she was leaking out of her diaper--the cloth insert got moved around a bit and she, apparently, peed a ton in the 45 minutes since we'd last changed her.) I said, "That's ok. She spat up on my shoulder after I fed her and I forgot to change my shirt too." Ah, parenthood.
I've been driving Shane crazy by doing exactly what I said I didn't want to, which is second-guessing him when he's with the baby. I finally had to explain the other night that when she's not in my arms it's like I have phantom limb pain. Part of my brain is constantly freaking out and it doesn't feel right until I'm holding her again. Even when I'm happy that I've put her down, because now I can get shit done, I check on her every minute or two because having her so far away from me (even if it's just a couple of feet, or if she's with someone else) doesn't feel right. I have to work very hard to restrain that instinct. But I'm working on it. I took the dog out for a jog the other night, my first one since just before I found out I was pregnant last March. It sucked. My legs are so out of shape, and I was getting over a (24 hour) cold so my lungs weren't in the best shape. It was cold, and I didn't wear anything over my face, which was just stupid. But, it was glorious too. My iPod died at Thanksgiving so I didn't have any music, just the crunch of my feet in the ice and snow reminding me that every step is one that I couldn't have made just 7 weeks ago. I'm going for another run tonight.

So, what am I looking forward to about 2014? I'm not even sure, other than a general excitement about seeing Baby's development, and getting closer to my husband, spending time with family and friends.
Because the darkest part of the year is finished, I'm once again looking forward to gardening. I won't be pregnant this year, so I have no excuses to neglect my garden and while I'm certain I won't fulfill all of my grand plans, it will still be a garden. I will grow food for my family and it will be glorious.

The good, the bad, the ugly side of being a new mom

I feel like I've unintentionally become an attachment parent. I don't subscribe to any parenting philosophy or style, because each family and each baby is different. What works for one kid might not work for the next, or won't work for your friend and her baby. I grew up hearing my parents talk about how different my siblings and I are, and how they had to do everything (like disciplining us) differently for each kid. Sending one of my brothers to his room as punishment worked; sending another brother did nothing because he'd just quietly play with his toys, no sense of punishment. As an observer of human nature, it seems obvious to me that I should become a different parent based on my child's needs, not on what some book says, no matter how well researched. So when people get so up in arms about their parenting style being "the best", I find it more than a little ridiculous. Just yesterday I was hanging out with a friend, who currently has a 2-year-old and an infant just a few weeks older than mine. I was bemoaning the fact that I can't ever seem to put Baby down because she either wakes up and starts screaming or, if awake when I put her down, starts crying within five minutes. Oh, there have been exceptions. We've gotten her to sleep in her cradle about four times for a couple of hours each, but only if she was really, really deeply asleep when placed in there. Usually I know I have just a couple of minutes to go to the bathroom and pee. If I'm really lucky, I can do something like put in/take out my contacts or brush my teeth before the screaming starts. I haven't written anything in almost a month because the few minutes I have free are inevitably spent doing laundry (diapers need to be done every couple of days), or doing the dishes, or taking a freaking shower in the ten minutes before she wakes up and needs to be fed yet again. I'm currently typing this courtesy of the Moby, so Baby can sleep and I have hands free. (Laundry is going to be started as soon as I'm done writing.)
So I was telling all of this to my friend and she nodded in sympathy. Her son, the infant, is the same way. Apparently their daughter slept in the crib like a champ right from the start, but their son needs to be held to sleep. So currently, we're both bed-sharing with our infants. I'm torn. Part of me panics about the (slightly) increased SIDS risk. I check and double-check that she's got enough space to breathe, that none of the blankets can fall or get kicked onto her face, and Shane does the same. (I've woken up a few times to find him bending over us in the eerie glow of the nightlight as he checks on us.) I wake up every time the dog shifts, although she's been very good about the baby. Better than expected, actually. She's anxious, of course, but very gentle with Baby. I've had to worry more about her stepping on my incision as she climbs across the bed to snuggle with Shane. Usually, that's how we sleep. Shane and the dog cuddled together, me with the baby. And really, if this is what we have to do to ensure that we all get to sleep, then so be it. I have to say, I'm sleeping much better now than I was for the first few nights, when I tried to get her to sleep in the cradle. Not that it worked. I'd put her down, start sliding into bed, and she'd wake up. I slept more in a chair in the living room than I did in my own bed for most of the first week. When I did manage to get her to sleep in the cradle I still panicked about SIDS, only I'd have to actually get out of bed to check on her. I woke up every time she shifted, and at every little noise she made. Now it's easy enough to put a hand on her little tummy and determine that, yes, she's still breathing, or that she's just fussing in her sleep and will go back to sleep, or that she's waking up to be fed. When she needs to be fed, I grab an extra pillow I keep by the bed, prop myself up a bit, and feed her right there. It's not exactly restful, but it's much better than getting out of bed every time I need to nurse her.
And that's another thing I didn't expect to have problems with: breastfeeding. I remind myself all the time that of course it has taken a while for my milk production to ramp up. After everything I went through with labor and delivery, of course my body has needed time to heal itself before providing for another as well. I'm finally feeling like my milk supply is almost adequate for our needs, though. Almost. We're still supplementing a little bit of formula, but not nearly as much as we were. And a little bit of it is because Shane's leery of using the small amount of breast milk I've managed to pump. Baby hasn't gotten the hang of using a bottle yet, which flows too fast and she ends up choking a bit or spitting out whatever's in her mouth. So for the supplementation the public health nurses gave us a feeding tube. I can snake it into the side of her mouth when she's breastfeeding, and get the stimulation that my body needs to signal "hey, produce more milk!" Shane uses it with the pacifier, snaking it through a hole in the side and into her mouth. (No, there've been no problems with "nipple confusion".) But, you have to prime it by sucking a bit into the tube before getting it into her mouth. Generally whoever is doing this gets a drop or two of formula in their mouth (tastes horrible, by the way) and the idea of doing the same thing with breastmilk just grosses Shane out. He's even laughed at me when I pump, because it does look a little weird. "I'm sorry, it's just odd to see my wife...milking herself."
This doesn't really make me sound like an attachment parent, does it? I had an epidural, rather than suffering through the pain after about 20 hours of labor, a C-section, and worst of all I supplement with formula. Go ahead and gasp, judge me even. Do it. The attachment parenting that I referred to is the fact that I hold my baby for roughly 80% of the day. The rest of the time, Shane's holding her. We're working on putting her down more often, but she's not a fan. I got her to lie on the floor next to me for a few minutes while I tried to do some quick exercises to help my abdomen.
I really, really didn't expect breastfeeding to be so hard. I'd read up on it and so much of what you read follows the "it's natural, therefore it's easy!" line of reasoning. And I'm sure that for a lot of mothers and babies, it is. If baby starts with a good latch and Mom's milk supply comes in on time, piece of cake! My milk took almost a week to come in, and even then it was a slow start. I thought I knew what to look for in a good latch, but apparently I didn't so we had to deal with that. Once I got help for it it took Baby less than a day to learn how to properly latch, but until then it was incredibly painful to feed her. I had big sores on each nipple where they were bruised and even, at times, bloody. It cleared up within a couple of days of getting a good latch, but it was not fun to deal with.
The fact that my milk is just barely or not quite keeping up with Baby's needs is frustrating to me. A little bit of the supplementation at this point is simply because Shane wants to give me time to sleep. I go to bed early and he takes over baby duty, then when he's ready for bed he wakes me up and hands her off. The rest of the night is spent nursing and co-sleeping. However, I did get a pump a couple of days ago so we should be tapering off the need for formula soon and I can still get the sleep I need. We just need to teach her to eat from a bottle as well now, too. Currently, she's a bit too greedy and almost chokes herself unless we pull it away every couple of sucks.
It has been incredibly helpful to read online about other women's less-than-perfect breastfeeding experiences. I'm not alone! I'm not the only one who broke down into tears doing what's supposedly "natural and easy"! It also shows me how lucky I am in how supportive the people around me are. When I was feeling the lowest, that first week, when I'd cry nearly every time I had to feed her, my mom was here to hug me and tell me that I'm not a failure. I don't know what I would have done without her. I also have the amazing public health lactation nurses, who were amazingly helpful and understanding and who visited my house so that I didn't have to take Baby out in the cold. I might have given up without them showing us the right way to latch and what's normal. Last, I have another breastfeeding mom to hang out with, commiserate with, and laugh with. Every new mom should be that lucky.
What's not helpful? The breastfeeding propaganda, and the number of people who get so high and mighty about breastfeeding. I came across one story (I won't bother linking to it because I'm still pissed) in which a woman basically said that supplementing is a sham and that no mom truly needs to do it. She fought the system, everyone else should too! Good for you lady, and screw you. I couldn't watch my baby lose any more weight, and supplementing was the least bad option. I still hate formula, but it's better than starving my child.
This time of year has never been so tough on me, but without my routine I have more time to focus on how dark it is. When I wake up, I have no idea what time it is, except that if it's starting to get light then it's sometime after 9:00. With my crazy sleep schedule, and with the complete lack of any routine at this point, I sometimes feel a bit disassociated with reality. Not in a dangerous PPD type of way, I just feel a little odd sometimes because I don't know what day it is or what time it is. I'm still taking one medication (an iron supplement to help regenerate all of the blood I lost) and I have a hard time remembering each day if I took it three times, or only twice? Was that today or yesterday that I last took one? I should write it down, but finding the time and energy to do so hasn't been high on my list of things to do. Hell, I'm lucky if I get a chance to heat up leftovers to eat while breastfeeding Baby. I think that my most impressive feat as a new mom was to make dinner while breastfeeding the other night. I'd laid her down and, amazingly, got enough time to chop all the veggies before she started screaming for food. So it was more a matter of putting it all together, but still. Wandering around my kitchen with Baby in one arm, latched onto my boob, and dumping veggies into the pan with the other and then stirring, adding spices, etc. Yeah. I felt like a badass.
So that's the bad and the ugly. The good part of being a new mom? Do I even need to say? Sometimes I get irritated that I have to spend basically my entire day holding Baby, but at the same time I know that this stage is very fleeting. Babies develop so much in the first year that she'll be almost a different creature by this time next year. So I'm trying to enjoy it, and it's really not that hard. She's wonderful, and beautiful, and I am such a lucky mom.

Take the good with the bad

I have to admit, for the most part I've really enjoyed being pregnant. At the very least, it's fun digging into the biology behind what's going on and tracking the changes in myself. Seriously, it's magical to be able to make another human being.
At its best, I realize in awe that no one else will ever get to have this experience of my child that I do. Not even Shane has gotten to know her yet as I have, through her kicks and rolls and how we respond to each other. I eat certain things and she turns into a little ninja, I think in appreciation. (Baby loves Thai food as much as I do!) I sing and she goes quiet, either sleeping or just appreciating. However, she kicked and rolled through all of my Symphony rehearsals as if she was dancing. I've had a few inordinately stressful moments at work over the past few months and every time I got really stressed out she started moving a whole bunch like she was trying to say, "Mom, chill out! It doesn't matter!" It's amazing, getting to know her this way.
So most of my griping is because I'm just impatient. I dream about holding my Baby in my arms and I want to do it right now. We've technically reached full term (I'm almost 38 weeks) but still have a couple of weeks to go for optimum health. Still, when I'm alone I'll tell her that she can come out any time now, I'm ready.
My other big gripe is how other people respond to me being pregnant. I thought the most annoying thing ever would be having others touch my belly. But, I realize that the people who do this are just excited and awed by what's going on. I even invite people to touch my belly when she's poking a knee or a foot out, so that they can experience it a little for themselves. And really, it's only been friends who've touched my belly. (Plus one coworker.) One friend gets teased for being "that guy" because every time he sees me he reaches out and gently lays a hand on my belly. But, the look in his eyes is so reverent. He just thinks it's so cool, and how can I be annoyed with that?
What I didn't expect was the number of people who would think that it's perfectly acceptable to tell me how huge I am. What...what the hell? Why would you ever say that to a person? If it's not acceptable to say to someone who's not pregnant, why would it suddenly be acceptable to say to a woman just because she is pregnant? You wouldn't tell a fat person how huge they are. (Or at least, you fall into the category of "giant douche" if you do.) Generally, you expect that an overweight person will know it. And you know what? I do too. I already feel like a whale without you needing to say it, thankyouverymuch. And while I generally have a healthy body image, and I understand that I've gained weight because it's healthy when you're pregnant, I do still have my fears. Will I ever be able to get back into the shape I was before I got pregnant? Will I have stretched out, saggy skin forever? I take solace in the fact that my stomach is stretch-mark free, not because stretch marks are so terrible but just because it's one thing to cling to and feel good about.
These comments are all the more hurtful because I really haven't gained that much weight. 25 pounds is on the lower end of the recommended weight gain for someone who's not over- or under-weight. I measure exactly where I should be at every appointment, and there are no signs that I'm going to have a particularly big baby. No one at the doctor's office has said a word about my weight gain, since it's exactly what it's supposed to be. But, I'm short. Adding 25 lbs to my frame looks very different from adding that same weight to the frame of someone several inches taller. Also, I'm carrying all out front. I still have most of the inward curve to my waist when looked at from the front or back. So, yeah. The belly looks pretty big. But, there's also a tiny person in there. I made a fucking person. Back off about how big I am.
I do understand that most of the women who've made comments about my size (yes, it's only been women--men KNOW not to tell a woman she's big) don't have any children of their own and so I can give them the benefit of the doubt that they don't quite understand how hurtful that statement can be. There are only two people who've said this that I know were being catty. One I can forgive, because she's a friend and I have no doubt she was just trying to make herself feel better for her own pregnancy weight gain. (Which doesn't mean I didn't really want to point out that at least I don't look like a dumpling, round all over, and I did avoid her for a few weeks to calm down.) The other woman...well, there's a history there that I won't go into. Needless to say, I already couldn't stand her so her bitchiness is far less hurtful than the comment from an acquaintance who said, "Weren't you supposed to have that baby already? No?! Oh. ...Well, you're going to have a biiiiiig, healthy baby."
The other annoying question I get seems so innocent at first. But, everyone seems to ask it and I think it's about the dumbest question ever. "Are you getting excited?" What do they expect me to say, no? Of course I'm flipping excited! If I wasn't so huge, I'd be doing backflips to show how excited I am. It's right up there with people asking the gender and when I tell them they say, "Ooh, are you excited?" Once again, of course I am. But not because she's a girl, I'm just excited because I'm having a baby. A healthy baby, at that! That is something to celebrate, but it should be obvious and you don't need to ask me if I'm excited. Just trust me, I am.
Men can be weird about it all, and in such varying ways. Most ignore it, some (like my friend who touches my belly) are super excited about it, some are leery (as if it might be catching?), and some are just plain weird. There was the creepy guy in my office the other day who kept asking me questions with a weird smile. Maybe he was just trying to be nice, but I was just trying to work and I didn't want to play 20 Questions About the Baby Belly. It doesn't help that he started, randomly, with "So, does this mean you're having a baby?" "This"? I should have said that it was a tumor.
I did also have a friend of a friend (who, for background, was asking weird questions all night, including if anyone would mind if he lit up a joint, in a place where no smoking is allowed) ask me randomly who my doctor is. I reacted a bit harshly, in part because he'd been so strange all night and partly because I was so sick of answering questions. So I said, "I'm not going to tell you that. You've basically just asked me who's been poking around inside my vagina, and I don't feel like telling you." He got offended and only afterward explained that, apparently, his wife works in healthcare and knows a number of the OBs in town. It would have helped had he lead with that information, but it's still a weird question for a man to ask a woman. Or am I the only one who feels that way? I think it was also the suddenness of it, and the awkwardly confrontational manner in which he asked it. Not jovial, or silly, or curious. More of a command than a question, like he expected an answer, or deserved one. He was just as awkward and socially inept every other time he opened his mouth, so I was out of patience.
The one thing I don't get sick of is hearing my brothers answer their phones with, "Baby time? Or not yet?" They're so excited to become uncles, and they will be fantastic at it. Also, adorable. They will be adorable uncles. :)
I'm also overwhelmed by the number of friends and family who've sent things to us. I got a message from a cousin the other day which basically came down to, "What will be the most helpful thing you still need?" It was like a long-distance hug, I felt so loved. She's sending a box with a few things she'd kept from when her own babies were babies. So while we have lots of baby stuff, we've bought basically none of it. One dress and one infant onesie (but only because they're blue and we needed something to go against all the pink): $4, used. One nasal aspirator and one set of baby nail clippers: $5. That's it. If you count the gift card, we bought a humidifier but spent $0 of our own money. If you count the things I've needed while pregnant, we've bought some prenatal vitamins (about $30 total), some maternity clothes (all used, some given to me, so we only spent about $35), and the healthcare costs. I will be getting a breast pump, but that's paid for by my insurance. That's it, and with it we have enough stuff to see her at least through her first six months, except for bottles and I'll probably ask for those for Christmas. (We'll need those, at the latest, when I go back to work.) Wouldn't you be amazed and grateful for all of that help? I am so, so lucky to have such a supportive network of people around me and I just hope that I can pass the helpfulness along when more of my friends start having babies.
Finally, I have the dates my mother will visit! I'm excited for all of the other family who will be here for Thanksgiving, of course, but my mom has been so amazingly helpful through everything. Calming, sympathetic when I need it, and (after having four kids of her own) so knowledgeable. She, more than just about anyone else, has given off the vibe of, "What do you need from me? What can I do that will be most helpful for you and Shane as new parents?" (Rather than, "How often can I see the baby? It's all about the baby! BABY!!!!!") So she'll be here for two weeks to help out and I really couldn't be more excited.

Millions of tiny happinesses

My library ebook copy of Gretchen Rubin's "The Happiness Project" is finally mine (for a short time) and I've been very much enjoying reading it. Like, 'I would recommend this book to pretty much anyone' levels of enjoyment. Why? What makes reading about someone else's project to be just a bit happier so rewarding? Well, lots of things. For starters, it's a helpful place to think about your own happiness (and she repeatedly outlines why this is a worthy goal--such as the facts that happier people tend to make those around them happier, and they are more generous). Are you happy? If so, why or why not? What makes you happy and why don't you do more of it? Like Gretchen herself, I struggle with these sometimes. I push off the things which make me happy for the things which I should do instead. And there is happiness in having a clean house, but there is also happiness in taking a relaxing bath when I need it and I don't do that nearly enough.
Some of what she says are her weaknesses, her faults, resonate with me. Probably the biggest was when she described herself as a score-keeper, particularly with her spouse. I have to admit, I really hate this quality about myself, but I'm also a score keeper with Shane. He is with me as well, but of the two of us I'm probably far worse. I'm sure that on my end it has something to do with growing up as one of four siblings, learning to keep track and keep score so that I don't miss out on my fair share of good things (dessert!) or end up with a disproportionate amount of bad things like chores. However, this isn't an excuse for keeping score in my marriage. Really, it's a horrible way to look at things. "I did X chore, so it's not fair that I should also have to do Y chore as well." It's a "wah! poor me!" attitude and I really want to break myself of it, but of course a change such as that, a change in your entire attitude, is hard to do. Probably if I worked on it every day for the next year I would still find it hard at the end of that year.
Compounding this, I am pregnant. 33 weeks! The end is in sight (and yet, that makes for the beginning of another tough but rewarding chapter in life: motherhood). I have zero stamina, lots to do, insomnia because I'm the size of a hippo so I'm tired all the time, and dammit, I deserve a little extra special treatment! Everyone tells me so. I tell myself that.
But...doesn't Shane deserve a bit of coddling too? He's taking seventeen credits of classes this semester. All told, between class and homework, it's more than a full-time job, and he's working on top of it. (Still helping our elderly friends up the hill to clear their trees, and got a few hours a week in the computer lab--at least he's allowed to do homework during the lab time when someone doesn't need his help!) Not only is he putting so much effort into this semester, but it's not even the fun classes. Three of them are hard, and only tangentially related to the programming that he's interested in: physics, calc 3, and statistics. These classes suck. Physics sucks even more because of the way the class is structured (it's an evening class and homework is due by midnight the night of class...so 5 hours to get it all done, and that's true even for the Friday night class!) and because the professor...well, I'm not in the class so I don't know if he's got tenure and has just stopped caring, or if his teaching style just isn't for Shane, but it's hard. Even with a friend's help, the homework takes hours every week. My poor guy looks so frazzled. Just because things are a little harder on me doesn't mean I should add to his burden. So what if I had to do all of the hand washing, again, because he was too busy, you know, doing homework? What makes my contribution to the household more special or more worthy than his?
On top of everything else, we don't get to spend much time together right now, for obvious reasons. When I have time, he doesn't. When he's free, I'm working or doing homework. Between Monday and Friday of last week, I'd estimate that we only got to spend about 3 hours of quality time together, and most of that was while we ate dinner for a few quick minutes or did a little bit of cleaning up together. Wheeeee. On Friday night, we ended up snapping at each other a couple of times, not because we were mad at each other but because we were frustrated by the situation. Thankfully, we did each explain ourselves so what could easily have devolved into an argument turned into hugs and sympathy for how hard we've each been working.
So this leads to the biggest reason why I'm enjoying this book: it's making me think more about gratitude. Instead of being upset by these hardships, I'm going to do my best to undertake a more grateful way of thinking about them. Instead of mentally whinging because we only got to spend a few minutes together eating a dinner that I had to make, again, I would like to be grateful that I have a husband who will take a few minutes out of his busy day to eat dinner with me, even if it means staying up that much later to finish his homework, and who is grateful in return that I took time out of my busy, tiring day to make dinner and have it waiting for him when he got home.
As the saying goes, instead of being upset that I have to do the dishes, I should be thankful for what those dishes represent: food on the table and someone I love to share it with. Not everyone gets to say the same.
Along with gratitude needs to come that buzzword which I really dislike for some reason, but which really fits: mindfulness. Since we'd spent so much time apart last week, when Shane asked me what I wanted to do on Saturday night I told him that, honestly, I wanted to hang out at home with him. Instead of saying that he wanted to go out and see people, which he usually does after a hermit-like week of schoolwork, he said, "Sounds great! There are a few movies we haven't seen yet that I'd like to watch." So we sat in bed the entire evening and watched movies. We cuddled the dog, we made hot chocolate from scratch, and it was beautiful. I just didn't realize how great it was until this morning when I was wishing that I was back in bed, cuddled up with him and sipping cocoa, laughing about something together. At the time, I was so tired from the week that I didn't stop to fully appreciate how wonderful those moments were. Now that I can't get them back is when I'm realizing just how good I had it.
I must admit, it's easier at this time of year for me to be grateful. I know it just officially became autumn according to the calendar, but we've already had our first couple of light dustings of snow, which didn't stick but are a poignant reminder of how fleeting the seasons are. The trees are still in their golden glory, but not for much longer. The air is chilled and perfect. It's my favorite time of year, when I'm so happy to snuggle into sweaters once again, and to curl up with a good book and something hot to drink--warm milk and honey, hot cocoa, hot apple cider.... It's the time of year to make gingerbread cookies and to really savor all of the flavors of the season. So many good things are coming my way. And the holidays, while still distant, will be upon us before we know it, with all the attendant fun activities and family time. How could that not foster gratitude?

How to make the most of your library experience: Don't piss off the librarian

I don't usually think of my job as a "customer service" job. It is, and I do know that, but tucked away in our little corner of the University, most people don't even realize we exist. The people who do know about us are generally so happy that we exist, and use our resources so much, that they love us. Consequently, I avoid roughly 95% of all "customer service" related bullshit. In over four years of working here, I've only had to deal with a handful of truly rude or annoying patrons.
Which is not to say that I don't have problem patrons. It's just not the major problems that other places have. We get the little annoyances, the things that people without severe mental or emotional problems (I've had to deal with a few of those) bring to the library without seeming to realize it. Pretty much anyone who's going to read this will, I assume, be smart enough to know not to go to the library drunk. Most people will understand that, while looking at porn on a library computer is not technically illegal, it is gross. Doing more than just watching said porn, however, is completely illegal. (That doesn't stop people from doing it.) There are serious, gross, and flat-out creepy problems which librarians have to deal with and which most people don't even think of. Several of our librarians had to go on a hunt for whoever was downloading and printing pictures of child porn. When they called police and caught the guy, it turned out that he had an outstanding warrant on a charge of child molestation. Lovely, right? This didn't even occur at a public library. This was a University library. Public librarians have it so, so much worse.
There are entire meetings I've been to discussing the porn policy (where does the line get drawn between legitimate research--there are a few classes which could/do require students to look at what would otherwise be questionable material, and not all students have personal computers--and someone just getting their jollies watching porn in public?) or discussing what to do if someone's passed out. Are they drunk, or could it be a serious medical condition making them appear so? Where do these lines get drawn?
What I'm talking about are not the gray areas. These are things which people should know how to do, and just don't. These are the things which piss me off. Give me ten people with mental illnesses over one person who comes to me with a combative attitude, acting like I'm their servant.
To be clear, I am not, strictly speaking, a librarian. I haven't gotten my MLS (master's of library science) degree. I'm just a lowly library technician. A staff person. However, I sit at the front circulation desk. Our librarian handles the major issues, while my coworker and I handle the day-to-day running of our little demesne, including dealing with the patrons. Even better, mine is the first desk people get to when they need to speak to someone. So when we do get a lousy, annoying, or just plain rude patron, they come to me first.
So here are just a few problems that I've had over the years, and why they are problems.

1. It's such a simple thing, but push in your chairs. Seriously, you should have learned how to do this in kindergarten. I don't understand it, but very few people actual feel that they need to bother pushing in their chairs at the library. Consequently, they block aisles and create a less welcoming atmosphere for everyone. Every time I get up from my desk I end up walking around pushing in chairs that people have left strewn everywhere. It's annoying.

2. Don't be rude to your fellow patrons. I'm not talking about outright rudeness, here, (which is a huge problem but also falls under the heading of "I'm sure if you're reading this, you already know not to do these things" category outlined above) but about small rudenesses. Don't chat loudly on your cell phone. Don't take up lots of space because you can, spreading your bag, coat, laptop, etc., all around over several different desks, chairs, or tables. Someone else might need that space. Someone else might want to get through that aisle. Don't be a dick.

3. Don't whine about how hard you've got it and why that exempts you from the rules. Seriously. This is probably the most common type of complaint we get. One woman is so infamous for it that we groan when she comes in. My favorite is her complaint, "But I have children." This excuse has been used for everything from why she can't turn in any book on time to why we're jerks for sending an ILL book back to the library which owns it before she could pick it up, even though she had a month in which to come pick it up before it was due. Congrats on your fertility, lady! That doesn't exempt you from library rules. You are not special. Your failure to plan ahead is not our fault, so don't try to make it our problem. We will not sympathize.

4. Read the signs we have posted. They're posted for a reason. It amazes me how many people come into the library and just...don't read things. We have pretty much all of our rules posted somewhere or another. We've got signs up everywhere in an effort to show people where things are. We definitely have patrons who never need to interact with us unless they're checking out items, because they've actually read the signs. Then there are the patrons who won't even read the colorful sign I have posted on the front of my desk, and get pouty when I point it out to them. It's a sign asking people to stand in front of my desk, rather than coming around to stand by my side, both because it's creepy when they invade my space and, more importantly, for privacy issues. Speaking of privacy issues....

5. Don't assume that we're keeping things from you to be jerks. There are an amazing number of legal issues surrounding libraries and the information we have access to. We have an incredible amount of personal information about people in our database: names, phone numbers, addresses--all to get in touch with people when we need to, but still personal info--and since we're a University, ID #s which can access all kinds of other personal scholarly information, such as transcripts. Not to mention, information on what books people have checked out (yes, that information is legally protected). People are always shocked and generally a little pissed off when I can't do something for them which would infringe on someone else's library information. We had a woman in the other day asking if her husband had checked out a book. When I told her that I couldn't legally answer that question she said, "But he's my husband!" Sure. But you don't have proof of that, and even if you did I still wouldn't be able to tell you because there are laws protecting that information. Yes, even from spouses.
We also have patrons asking to check out books that are on hold for other people, on the other person's behalf. We can't let you do that for a variety of reasons, including those pesky privacy laws again. I realize it can be inconvenient, but you're not only asking me to break library rules for you, you're asking me to break the law.

6. Don't, for the love of all things holy, assume that we will do all of your work for you. The one thing I see most commonly, and which drives me craziest, are the people who walk up to my desk first thing and say, "Where do I find this?" My first question for them is, "Have you tried looking in the catalog?" Half the time they say no, and I mentally categorize them (fairly or not) as lazy. Sometimes, I do realize, it's a matter of telling them how to get access to the catalog. (It's online, just like everything else these days.) But I actually had one conversation go like this:
Me: Did you look in the catalog?
Patron: No.
Me: Well, you can look it up in the online library catalog from any of those computers over there. It will be the homepage, so it's really easy.
Patron: But I wanted you to do it.
Me: ...But I'm showing you how to do it, so that you don't need to come and ask me every time you want to look up a book.
Patron: Yeah, I still want you to do it for me.
At this point, I was super annoyed and wanted to tell this guy, "Go fuck off, it's not my job to coddle you and enable your laziness." Of course, I couldn't say that. I ended up looking up the book for him, but I did let my annoyance show through. It would have taken this guy less time to look it up himself than he spent arguing with me about who should look it up. I got the impression that he was being a douche because he could, and because he thought it should be my job to cater to him. That is not, ever, the purpose of a librarian. Yes, we're here to help. But using a library correctly is not difficult, and it is a skill that all people should learn. When you don't bother to try learning, you're not going to get the most helpful service.

7. Don't ever think that you know more about the library's resources than the library worker you're talking to. This one happened just this morning, as it turns out. The very first thing I had to deal with when I got to work was an angry phone call from someone who was pissed that he couldn't find the information he needed. I realized pretty quickly that he was looking in the wrong place on the website but every time I tried to explain how to get to the information he needed he swore he was looking at the place I wanted to navigate him to and would rant for a bit about how awful our website is. ("When I type in the title of this journal, it's not even the first thing that comes up! It's, like the seventh, and that's just crazy." I wanted to ask if he'd ever used a database before, and if he understood how they work. Do you always accept your first Google hit?) If he'd have shut up for 30 seconds, it would have been a much faster and more pleasant conversation. As it was, I had to endure several minutes of him talking about how horrible our website is, and by extension the library and everyone who works here. Not productive, dude. I finally got him to listen to me, explained a few things to him, and then how to get what he wanted. All the while, I had to endure more verbal abuse about how bad our service is. Thanks. Once again, if you're willing to learn then I'm willing to teach you. If you're not willing to learn how to use the library resources properly, then there's really nothing I can do for you. You're going to have a bad time, and it's going to be all your fault. I just can't say it that way to you.

8. Don't lie to us. It's pure stupidity on your part to assume that we can't see through your lies. Just because we don't call you on them every time doesn't mean that we believe you. The third time you come in with some lame and generally convoluted story about why you can't turn in something on time, I'm not going to be happy with you and I will let it show. Because the why isn't actually my problem. You checked out the item, and by doing so you need to understand that....

9. Checking out a library item is sort of like signing a contract. You agree to borrow it for a certain amount of time, and we should have a reasonable expectation that you will bring it back at least close to the time it's due. We explain when an item might have a fine attached to it so that you know beforehand. And usually, we're pretty nice. We'll waive fees all the time, knowing that a) students are poor and b) life happens. But when it's a consistent problem on your end, then expect the library to have a problem with you. You are not the only person in the world, nor are you the only person who might want to borrow the item you've taken out. We have rules about borrowing periods for a reason. If you're not following them, that's your fault. You knew what you were getting into when you checked the item out.

10. Understand that we have lives outside of the library. When I tell you that the library is closing, I mean that it's closing. I have a home and a family to get back to, and you're infringing on that. When I say "we're closed", I don't mean 15 minutes from now, I mean now. The fact that you didn't get all of your online shopping done before the library closed is not my problem, but you're making it mine. And I'm not being a douche for saying that I'll call security to have them escort you out, I'm trying to let you understand what a douche you're being to me. Once again, we have our hours signs posted all over the place. If you ask, we'll tell you when we close. I go around the library before closing to let people know, hey, we're closing up soon. It is not a surprise, and once again you don't get to be the special exempted person for whom the rules don't apply. You're just being an ass. Now get the fuck out of my library and let me go home.

Boom

Me: "She's getting enormous."
Shane: "Stop talking about yourself in the third person."



31 weeks, and I'm starting to get a bit weary of being pregnant. Mostly, the waiting. I'm not a patient person in general, and waiting for something so momentous which, really, I can't plan for as much as I'd like (I don't get to pick my due date, or how I'll react to the pain, etc.) is getting tiresome. Even Shane said the other day, "Yeah, now that the shock of 'holy shit, I'm going to be a dad' has worn off, I just want it to start already."
Of course, the aches and pains, the not being able to breathe or bend over very far, the not sleeping well because of all of this, and the subsequent exhaustion are starting to take their toll as well. That might have something to do with my impatience. And still, I am so lucky because this has been relatively easy on me! No health problems for either of us, no excessive weight gain for me, etc. So I do, constantly, remind myself of that. But at this stage, being pregnant will never be easy.
I still have plans for organizing and decluttering and getting ready for Baby's big arrival that I want to set in motion and yet...I have no motivation for most of it. I'm so tired. Can't I just lie down and read for the next two months?
My usual marathon of preserving food is more like a 3-legged race for turtles this year. A bit derpy, not quite sure what direction I want to go, and very, very slow. My laziness has paid off in one way, though: I finally used my food processor in the way it should be used. I had TONS of rhubarb to process, so that I can make Ginger Rhubarb Marmalade (recipe courtesy of my MIL), and instead of chopping or cutting it all by hand I took the lazy/easy way and pulled out the food processor. Because this is exactly the kind of thing we got it for. I feel ridiculous for not using it as much in the past because it made chopping the rhubarb the work of about 10 minutes.
And when I say tons of rhubarb, it's not too much of an exaggeration. Some of this will get given away as gifts, the rest will stay with me and go on muffins and toast and all kinds of other yummy things. Because it's amazing, and tasty, and perfect.
I'm just waiting for the stores to get more crystalized ginger candy in bulk.


Thanks to our recent Costco run, we have tons of food in the house. Other than needing a few perishables every week (fruit, milk) we don't have to buy really anything. We've got two weeks' worth of menu items simply with what we have on hand.
BUT...
Oh boy. Saturday night, we decided to make salmon chowder. It's Shane's recipe, but I generally act as sous chef when he cooks. (He does the same for me a lot, too.) The way we make it, the salmon fillet gets cooked in the oven first, while the vegetables cook and get soft in the soup pot, then the salmon gets added to the soup along with the cream base and everything simmers for about 20 minutes before we eat. Well, Shane pulled out the Pyrex baking dish and set it on the stove, not realizing that he'd left the burner under it on after making the roux. After getting everything set up to simmer, we fed the pets and I decided to do a load of dishes to clean up a bit pre-dinner and BOOM! The Pyrex exploded everywhere. I mean everywhere. The poor cat was gone in a heartbeat, terrified out of his mind. The dog, after one stunned minute, tried to go back to eating her dinner (there were salmon skins in it!) and we had to pull her away because there was glass in her bowl. We even had to throw away our entire pot of soup (16 cups of chowder!) because of the glass that almost certainly got in it. We tried to justify eating it. "Maybe if we chew very carefully? No, no."
To make a long story short, after 45 minutes of cleaning, when it was past 8:00, weary from cleaning and more than a little shell shocked, we decided that instead of trying to thaw something out and start dinner all over again we'd just go out to eat. So much for our streak of frugal meals. And now we're down a baking dish on top of it all.
At least no one was hurt. Shane called his brother later on and started the conversation with, "So, I tried to blow up my pregnant wife tonight...."

Land of Fire and Ice

My eldest brother, who lives in the L.A. area, keeps joking that living in Fairbanks is a little like living in George R.R. Martin's series "Song of Ice and Fire" (otherwise known as "Game of Thrones"). We do definitely go to the extremes, with an annual temperature swing of 140+ degrees (F). Frequently the summers, such as this one, are smoky. And the motto of pretty much everyone is, of course, that winter is coming. We spend all summer gearing up for the long, cold winters. Outside to do things, of course, but also to soak up the necessary vitamin D and to enjoy the sun while we can so that the winter doesn't seem quite so cold and dark. When I pick berries, it is with the knowledge that the season for them is so short and I need to get as many as I can to stock up for winter. I'm not alone in this.
This summer has been unusual, it's not just in my head. We've easily broken the old record for 80+ degree days (at least 36), when the average summer only has 11 such days. It's still smoky and the fires are flaring up with the lack of rain. (Over 2 inches less than normal.) The Tanana Valley Fair was in town and the old joke here is that fair weather means rain. Well, this year that wasn't the case. We haven't gotten any noticeable rainfall (a few drops here and there, but that's it) in what is usually the wettest summer month.
This is good in one way, because the family friends who've needed help creating a fire break around their property still need help. So Shane's been spending his afternoons up in the hills, helping to cut down, limb, and stack trees. He's not making the big bucks doing this, of course, but enough to pay for our most recent trip to Wasilla (for a kick-ass wedding!) and, soon, the snow tires we'll need for our car. I asked him how much more work he thinks is left and he said, "Probably they could keep me working until the snow falls." Ah. Well, it's good. Beyond the financial aspect, I can tell that Shane is much happier simply because he feels useful and productive again.
And now, the leaves are starting to change. It feels early to me, but I don't think that it actually is. I think that we're all a little confused by it, however, simply because it is still so hot during the day. It gets a bit chilly at night, but the days are scorching.
And now, we're even making plans to head down to the Mat-Su Valley once again to go to the state fair in Palmer over labor day weekend, with family. My first inclination was to be like, "Traveling, again? No." But to see family, it is worth it, even when I'll be 7 1/2 months pregnant at that point. I'm trying to remember that I feel extra tired right now both because it was a crazy week at work (which I don't want to go into, but I've never been so stressed out by work before) and because I'm getting over a cold. I blame Shane. He got sick first, then I got sick. I never got so ill that I felt the need to take time off work, but that was partly because I felt sickest over the weekend. Which, thankfully, gave me the time I needed to be super lazy and to recover. (I have a dr.'s appointment this week, anyway, so I'm sure I'll get checked out rather thoroughly then.) I made chicken noodle soup and we watched an entire season of a TV show online, and generally just took it easy.
The only thing we did over the weekend was to go to the Tanana Valley Fair on Sunday evening. We biked over to avoid paying for parking, then spent way too much money anyway on greasy, yummy fair food. We only go once a year, we figured (this was before the plans for the state fair), so it was worth it. And I discovered that my baby belly now sticks out far enough that drips and dribbles of food which would normally fall in front of me now land right on my abdomen. I had both gyro grease and blueberry stains from a crepe all over my shirt by the time we biked home. I regret nothing.
We saw "Goat Rodeo" in the list of activities and were super excited until a friend informed us that it was actually a one man band, not a rodeo. We were so hoping to see people roping goats. (Not raping goats, although that's not too far off the mark of what apparently did happen at the fair. Go Fairbanks.)
The next couple of months are going to be just as busy as the rest of the summer has been. Gearing up for birthday parties, the trip down to Palmer at the beginning of next month, and then the following weekend will be my baby shower, complete with a visit from my MIL. It will be fun, but I'm a bit tired just thinking about it all. I still have so many of my own projects that I've been wanting to get done that I have to work on. I did, finally, spend an evening cutting up an old flannel top sheet for reusable baby wipes, the draft dodgers I want to make for under the doors, and a rice heating pad for my aching back. However, when I tried to use my serger something went wrong. I must have threaded it wrong, but I'm not certain how. So I'll have to ask my MIL when she's here.
We're getting to the point in pregnancy where I think it's ok to start stocking up on some things. Our Fred Meyer rewards came in the mail (almost $10 off!) and some coupons, and a $150 gift card from a work program, so I'll stop there after my appointment later this week to grab some things off my list, like oats and dates and pasta and sticky hooks to hang curtains. I know I've mentioned this before but we're going to make and freeze as many meals and snacks as possible before Baby's arrival so that it's one less thing to worry about when we bring home our tiny new person. I still have all those craft and decorating projects I wanted to do as well, and organizing projects. Some deep cleaning of our apartment. (Heck, at the moment I'd settle for minimal cleaning of our apartment. With both of us being laid low for most of a week, and the traveling before that, our place looks like a bit of a dump.) I'm so behind. It will feel nice to make some progress on this stuff, finally. I've been putting it off for so long, not because I'm lazy but because I've prioritized other things. Now that I'm entering my third trimester, however, it feels just a bit more urgent to get things settled and ready for Baby.
Actually, I've got plenty of baby items on the list as well. A nasal syringe, thermometer, diaper cream, etc. Things that people say, "Oh, go ahead and register for that!" but I'd feel silly actually registering for. Seriously, a $1 bulb syringe? Baby nail clippers? They sell those in kits but all of the kits I saw looked cheap and had extra stuff that I didn't really see the point of. (And yes, that is after doing research about what kinds of health/safety items we really do need. I won't be leaving off my list things which will actually make a difference to my child's health and wellbeing.)
As strange as it seems, I'm a bit excited to buy these things. Not the purchasing itself, but the fact that we're getting so close to actually meeting her. I realized a few weeks ago that I'm not scared of labor, which I know a lot of women are. The knowledge is rather liberating.

Enjoying summer

It feels like I've spent most of the summer complaining about it being summer. It was too hot, the mosquitoes sucked, it was smokey, blah blah blah. And it was all true, and it was annoying. However, now that we're in the slow descent toward autumn I'm finally getting a chance to enjoy summer. Weird, I know. It's not as hot, the bugs aren't as atrocious, and most of the smokiness is gone, though.
I've gone berry picking twice with friends, netting about a gallon and a half of blueberries and a cup or so of raspberries. So far. We're definitely going to be doing more berry picking before the season ends, so I'm happy. A freezer full of yummy local berries sounds heavenly, doesn't it?
We bought some (non-organic) blueberries at Fred's the other day because they were ridiculously on sale. After eating a few of them, having gone berrying the day before and eating a few of those berries, it reminded me of exactly why I think that the local berries are so incredibly superior. Sure, they're much smaller. They stain your hands. They can be rather tart. But the cultivated berries are missing one major thing: flavor. I ate a handful and wondered, why on earth did I ever enjoy store-bought blueberries? They're watery little bits of nothing in blue skin. Compared to the wild berries I'd been picking and eating, they were completely tasteless. Even when I put them into some pancakes, they just didn't taste like anything. We'll freeze what we have left of them for winter, and I'm certain we'll make things with them, but I'm just as certain that they'll be the last berries to go. We'll all pout when we finish the local berries. Which, really, is just more impetus for me to pick as many as possible. Can I get three gallons? Four? We'll see.
We had another trip down to Wasilla for another wedding, and it was wonderful. Great friends, great party, ecstatic bride and groom. What more could you ask for? It was at the bride's family's farm, so the setting was gorgeous. I always forget how much I miss the mountains until I'm in the Mat-Su Valley and they're right there. (Alaska says no to foothills. It's just mountains looming all around, looking imposing and impressive and gorgeous. It's the one thing about the Valley that I love.) Shane and I actually helped out quite a bit, trying to get it ready. When there was nothing else for me to do, a few times I ended up holding babies to help out their parents, who were in the wedding party or were in charge of someone in the wedding party, like the flower girl's mom. I feel a little silly, because at one point I ended up taking a nap on the couch in the house of these people I'd never met before, but I'm pretty sure everyone was sympathetic to that. (Who's going to wake up a pregnant woman?)
The one thing which I didn't like about the weekend is that we drove. so. freaking. much. Wasilla is set up horribly. It's so spread out that even if we'd brought our bikes down we would have spent much of the time driving because it just would have taken too long to get anywhere otherwise. We drove into Anchorage to help ferry supplies, like the alcohol (four kegs--we had only one and the wine in our vehicle) and food supplies (a family friend, who's a chef, did the catering, so they bought a lot of the supplies at Costco). We ended up making a trip to Value Village on Saturday morning because Shane's dress pants were from high school and while they're still plenty nice, they're a little tight in the waist. (Good guy husband--keeps himself in shape and can still fit into high school clothes a decade later.) We found a new (to us) pair of khakis and I even got to browse the baby girl outfits. Shane surprised me by holding up a dress and saying, "Um...this is really adorable. Can we get it?" A blue plaid jumper for a 1-year-old, for $1.99. Yep, we bought it. It just charmed the hell out of me to see my husband, who usually hates this kind of thing, looking hopeful over buying a dress for his baby girl.
The wedding itself was perfect. Oh, there were moments, as at every wedding. The ring bearer decided that he didn't want to walk sedately down the aisle, so he took off running out into the field (don't worry, he didn't actually have the rings) and the flower girl saw all the crowds and froze for about five minutes while her mom tried to coax her down the aisle. A plane flew overhead after the vows so we heard nothing until suddenly, "...man and wife. You may kiss your bride." But it was still lovely. And the party afterward was fantastic. We danced, we ate cake, we laughed and had a great time. There was beer-in-hand kickball (it was even fun just to be a spectator), pony rides for kids, board games, beer pong with a wine cork instead of a ping pong ball, and much merriment. I've been to weddings which were as good before, but none better.
Though it was an option, we decided not to camp out on the lawn that night. It was rainy, we would have had to set up the tent in the dark, and I didn't have a pillow. Instead, we stayed at our friend's parents' house. So nice of them to let us crash there!
But that missed camping opportunity, and the pictures of the bachelor party (which was a camp-out) really, really make me want to go camping. So we're hoping to get people together to go camping in a couple of weekends, before it gets too cold. We even want to combine it with both a birthday celebration and berry picking. If we can pull it off, it will be such a good time.
As I walked to work this morning, I got the "end of summer" vibe. It must have been the angle of the light, which really isn't that much different than it was last week. But combined with the chill in the air (I was still wearing a sleeveless blouse, so just a chill) it made me realize that autumn is rapidly approaching. I'm excited for it, as I always am. Autumn is my favorite season. And of course, this year I have even more to look forward to. So I'm not unhappy about summer ending, but I am trying to squeeze in as much summer activity as I can before it all winds down.

Who says pregnancy makes you emotional?

Have you heard of that website, Reasons My Son is Crying? I've been thinking lately that Shane could start a similar one, reasons my pregnant wife is crying. I'm told this is quite common among pregnant women. When we were in Wasilla, Shane's cousin and I laughed about some of the things she cried about during her first two pregnancies. Her husband joked that he didn't realize dish soap commercials were so emotionally laden before.
Honestly, my emotions have felt rather steady. For the most part. I'm just a little bit more prone to tears. So I've been reading the news a bit less, never sure what will set me off. Shane, thankfully, usually hasn't been around for the crying jags I have had, and he's done his best to ignore the ones he has seen. When I'm quietly snuffling because of my book, he politely pretends that I'm behaving completely rationally.
There are some things which I can admit, even while I'm crying, are thoroughly stupid to cry about. Sometimes I don't even know why I'm crying, but it feels damn good to get it out so I just go with it. So, in the interest of letting other pregnant women know they're not alone in their tears, and giving everyone else a good laugh, here are a few of the things I've cried about recently:

The secondary character in my book who was dying of cancer finally died. Of cancer.

I saw a picture of a wedding dress on Pinterest (which looked nothing like mine and, actually, I thought was rather ugly) and it made me remember my own wedding day. I didn't cry on my wedding day, but damn if I didn't cry over the memory of how happy it was.

I read a story in which a mother disowned her son for being gay. I wondered how any parent, ever, could do that to their child and sobbed my heart out. I kept whispering to my belly that I will love her no matter who she is.
And now I'm crying over that one again.

I realized that one day my daughter will tell me, and think that she means it, that she hates me. Then I remembered the times I told my own mother I hated her and cried even harder. Then I simply cried because I missed my mom. (This was before they visited.)

I cried because time goes so fast, and before I know it I'll be sending my baby off to college, or off to travel the world by herself. Then I laughed because I haven't even birthed this child yet, but I still couldn't stop crying so I was both laughing at myself and crying.

I cried because my dog won't live forever.

I cried because my husband is wonderful and I'm so happy with him. Seriously. I think he'd done the dishes or something silly like that, and it moved me to tears.

My all-time favorite, however, happened a few weekends ago. Shane was doing some maintenance on his computer so he turned on "Finding Nemo" on his laptop. He fell asleep in his computer chair at some point, then woke up enough about an hour later to stumble into bed. (A grand total of about one foot. It was quite the feat, I'm sure.) Anyway, "Finding Nemo" was still playing, looped, on the laptop when I woke up. So I made myself some breakfast and took it back to the bedroom to watch the tail end of the movie. (Get it? Tail end? So bad.) Shane woke up to the sounds of me weeping uncontrollably and asked, "What's wrong?" I managed, between sobs, to stammer out, "D-Dory's missing!!" Ever the gentleman, Shane did his best to muffle his laughter in his pillow, but seeing him laugh made me laugh too and, once again, I couldn't stop crying while I was laughing so it was a bizarre combination of the two.

I should also add, in case you were wondering, that I am not a pretty crier. I don't get cute. My face contorts like an Olympic gymnast and I get red-rimmed eyes, tear stains, and blotchy cheeks. My nose runs, then stuffs up so I spend the next half hour sniffling. When I say these things have made me cry, I mean that I cried. No adorable couple of tears slipping down my cheeks like in a movie.
So the next time you need a good laugh, go ahead and imagine what I'll cry about next. I'll probably end up laughing about whatever it is myself, even before the crying has stopped.

Everything else

It's been a fun and busy few weeks, hence the lack of posts. We went to a wedding in Wasilla (staying for free in my in-laws' motorhome), and my parents came up for nearly a week, both to visit us and to celebrate the wedding of two of their college friends. (Cute story, the couple dated in college, broke up soon after because he wanted to leave the state, and then met again last year and fell back in love so they got married.) In between these events, I spent a few days frantically cleaning my apartment, both to make it presentable to my parents and because my dad is allergic to cats, so I did my best to get rid of as much cat dander as possible. (It seems to have worked. He sneezed a lot but his eyes didn't itch, and the sneezing might also have been caused by the smoke.)
Ah, the smoke. We've been keeping an eye on the reports about the Stuart Creek fire, just out of town. Not only has it been blowing clouds of smoke into habited areas, it actually caused a temporary evacuation before they started getting it under control. Thankfully, we've had some rainy, wet weather which has been helping the firefighters. It's still almost 85,000 acres on fire, but the weather is helping to keep it from spreading toward homes.
And, it's sent a small boon our way. Some family friends live in the hills, not anywhere too close to the fire (they didn't have to evacuate) but they can see it and theirs is a very woodsy area. It got them thinking about what their fire danger is so they wanted to make a fire break. Unfortunately, they're an older couple and the wife is in poor health so she can't do much. So they hired Shane and another friend of ours to work on clearing out a bunch of the black spruce around their property. They're not clearcutting, but they're thinning it out both to make it less likely to be eaten up by a fire and more palatable to firefighters, should they be needed. As Kathy pointed out, "After the incident in Arizona, I can't blame them for being wary. And they'd take one look at our property and say that there's no way they're coming out here just for one structure." It's just been a couple of afternoons of work so far, but they're going to re-assess over the weekend--they have family visiting right now--and then see what other help they'll need from Shane next week. (Am I a bad person for hoping that they'll need at least a week's help more?) As for the trees, anything which can be used for firewood will be (the other guy working on this is going to haul most of it home) and some of the logs have big burls on them, so it was suggested that those get sold to the Alaskan Bowl Company or another local artisan. So they're being cut down, but they're not being wasted.
This isn't the only odd job that has come Shane's way recently, either. My boss retired and immediately after, she and her husband packed up and left the state to be closer to their kids. They called on Shane to help with the packing up, which worked out well for everyone. We're not making boatloads of money off these jobs, of course, but any little bit helps.
My odd jobs, however, disappeared. I was hoping to do the summer opera ('Carmen'), which pays a decent amount for the work they ask. At least, for music in Fairbanks it pays well. (And really, half the point is that I get to play my violin, the money is just extra.) But that fell through, due to the wedding in Wasilla and a few other factors. Even worse, I just found out that the fall FLOT show will be starting November 15th. Since my due date is the 11th, there's no way I can do this show ("Willy Wonka and the Choclate Factory"). I'll still get to play, hopefully (I can do the Fairbanks Symphony, depending on the concert dates) but I won't get paid and, darn it, I love doing the FLOT shows! Missing out on one is disappointing. I do have a wedding which I'll be playing for (and probably getting paid a few dollars for), so the music season isn't a total monetary loss for me yet.
If those are my only real complaints, though, it should show you that life is pretty good right now. Shane's summer class started, so he's got more to keep himself busy these days. I hate how he gets when he's jobless because not doing anything just makes him grumpy and irritable. I understand it, to a certain extent. He gets bored and lonely being at home all day with no one but the pets for company. Hunting for jobs is boring and annoying, and being rejected for job after job is disheartening. He's still applying to new positions, of course, but the pickings are slim right now, which adds to the frustration. Having even small things, such as his class and the odd jobs, helps a lot. I'm glad, for both of us, that he's got plenty to do right now.
As for me, I'm mostly in good spirits. At 22 weeks I'm starting to feel quite large. And apparently looking it, too, enough for the FedEx guy who delivers to work to feel confident enough to ask me when the baby's due. (I told Shane this and he said, "Bold move, sir!") For the record, the delivery guy said November 13th. I kinda hope he's right, since that would mean I'd only be two days overdue. :)
I'm still trying to enjoy most of this, or at least look at it clinically. My stomach is big enough to be getting in the way, which is both funny and depressing. I'm finding it hard to do small things like put on my own socks. (For shoes, I've been wearing slip-ons.) I weighed myself again after several weeks of forgetting to, and saw a number on the scale much larger than anything I've ever seen before. Even knowing that I'm gaining the proper amount of weight and not extra, it still made me want to cry. Then again, lots of things make me want to cry lately.
I have had a number of people tell me that I look great, which helps. And when I actually see myself naked in the mirror, I end up thinking, "Really, I'm not that big." I just feel like I am. My belly button is just on the edge of being an outie, but isn't there yet. My balance doesn't seem to be too far off yet, and I think the yoga is helping me with that. However, it does seem as if my walk to work is getting harder by the day. Getting up the hill is a supreme effort of will, and people look at me with a mixture of pity and awe when I make it to the top, sweating and panting. My stamina is so bad right now that, the last time I took the dog on what used to be our medium length walk on a weekday evening, I came home and told Shane, "That can only be a weekend walk from now on. It's too much, when I've already spent over an hour walking earlier today." And then I collapsed onto the bed and didn't move for a while.
I am totally nesting. Mentally planning, preparing for what's to come and all of the changes. Trying to figure out even more ways to spend less money, to make things out of what I already have and just to, you know, prep the nest. I started reading Dr. Sears's "The Baby Book", and although I was leery when starting it I'm actually rather enjoying it. They do advocate attachment parenting, but everything comes with, "Of course, every baby, parent, and family is different so if this doesn't work for you, don't do it." It's not only backed up with anecdotes but with science. And there's a good dose of relationship advice, too, for how to deal with the changes a baby introduces to a marriage (or a partnership, or whatever) and how to deal with some of the conflicts that naturally occur. I don't expect Shane to read it, but some of it would be helpful for him so I've been passing along things that I think he'd appreciate knowing. The fact that there is so much geared toward fathers, and that so much of the book focuses not just on what the mother could/should be doing but also on possible roles for the father is great. So many new parent books completely ignore the dad, and Dr. Sears says straight out that fathers have a different, but just as important role, from the mother. I really, really want Shane to understand that. I'm terrified that I'm going to make him feel inadequate, or that I'm going to take over everything and make him feel left out, both of which are quite common for new moms. I have grand plans for things like leaving Baby with Shane in the evenings and taking the dog for a short one-on-one walk, but who knows what my feelings will be after Baby is actually here? Will I get possessive of her? Will I get bossy (which I tend to do) and know-it-all-y? Shane doesn't have much experience with kids or babies, but I have lots thanks to my years as a babysitter and nanny. So I hope I keep all of this in mind and that I don't push my husband away when he's learning his role as Dad. I think the biggest thing which will help me is just that I am as excited about seeing him morph into his role as a dad as I am about meeting our baby. I know he'll be a great father, no matter what.
And there I go, starting to tear up again. Dammit.