October and me

The problem with not posting in over a month is that it’s hard to know where to begin.

Should I tell you first about the insomnia or the change of heart I've had about cooking? An update on the kids or gushing about Anne Lamott’s new book?  You see the problem? I’d usually write a separate post on each one of these things.  

Maybe I’ll back it up to September.

That’s when life sped up and forced me to prioritize. Shaune started his brand new permanent job. Deaglan became a first grader and Naveen went back to the preschooler room after a summer with Daddy. I felt the overwhelming urge to hold things together, hold all of their hands through it.  

Sadly, writing was triaged right out. Even sadder, I began waking up every night at precisely 1:30 am and lying awake until the morning.

I knew Shaune needed the freedom to embrace the new job so I released him of home work when I could. After all, he’d given me a luxuriously easy summer.

So, I took over all the cooking, dealt with the kids myself every evening; fed them, cleaned up, read to them, worked with Deaglan to improve his reading, bathed them and tucked them safely into their beds. While I did this, Shaune worked hard to create a foundation for this program he'd likely teach till the day he retired.

At the exact same time, work got good and busy. And then Deaglan's hockey started. I broke a toe which meant I had to get creative with my workouts – workouts that had become crucial to my sanity. Shaune’s partner teacher went on sick leave which meant he had to bring the rotating door of substitute teachers (usually starting teachers with absolutely no experience in commercial kitchens) up to speed almost every day.

The insomnia worsened and hot flashes and night sweats joined the party. And at least once a day I couldn't remember something important, it was on the tip of my tongue, near the front of my mind but I just couldn't find the words or remember what it was I was thinking about.

But every day around 4pm I took a break and googled healthy dinner ideas.  I often stopped in at the Metro on my way home to grab the things I needed for that night’s meal.  I liked the control I suddenly felt over what we ate. Shaune loved the break and he raved about the meals I was making.  

And then one Saturday morning a few weeks ago, I was scrolling through the digital TV guide in search of a cartoon both kids could agree on when I caught a glimpse of Suzanne Somers on CityLine.  She was listing symptoms to something - I’d missed the beginning – and almost every single symptom she listed sounded acutely familiar. A few hours later I had her new book I’m too young for this in my possession.

As I work through her book, I've begun adding other authors' viewpoints on the topic. Turns out I'm not too young for this. It has become evident that I am in the throes of perimenopause.

So that's it friends. That's what October was all about for us. I've missed this place and don't plan to be away for so long again. Next time I'll post more pictures and go on and on about the kids. And when the time is right I'll give you the lo down of what I'm doing to get myself on track with sleeping and all of that.

The boys got their hair cut and I tried to capture the before and after. These are grainy photos from my phone.

 



 I think I agree with my father-in-law that Naveen is meant to have long hair.

 

I got a haircut and other fascinating tidbits

A few days ago when my friend popped by with her toddler, I was on the verge of apologizing for the disaster-state of my house when I realized I’d just finished cleaning it only an hour before. I let go of my need to make excuses, hoped she wasn’t taking silent inventory of the Cheerios I’d missed with the vacuum.

And I was going to give you some long-winded explanation about how I didn’t have time to style my hair before Shaune turned into a paparazzi snapping these terrible pictures of me without warning. But the truth is, I did style it and not only that, I asked him to take some photos of my new haircut for my blog. Sadly these are the best he could do with what I gave him. What can I say? This is how I usually look, with a few rare days of good hair in between.

There’s a feeling that washes over me every few weeks – a feeling which never fails to bring me down. It’s a wagging finger during my busiest times, when balance is elusive, the demands of work and family leaving me exhausted, too spent to indulge in my art. It convinces me that I will never amount to anything writerly, that inspiration when ignored too many times will stop showing up.

It’s the same feeling I get sometimes when I catch a glimpse of my aging 40 year old self - a mix of well it could be worse meets Really - this is what doing my best to eat right and exercise gets me now?

I had hopes of editing the two books I wrote last year on maternity leave, making this blog a regular place you stop by for sweet little stories, inspiration. Back then, I imagined myself this well-rested, working mom, writing on the side, running the odd half marathon.

I’ve been back to work ten months and I have to tell you: It’s hard. This living and working and raising a family - it is hard work. And none of it looks like the picture you had in your head. You know the picture I’m talking about? The GQ corporate life followed by the sweet obedient vegetable-eating children snug in their beds so you can have a few hours to pursue your other self.

But when I watched this old Ted talk a few days ago (I think it was right about the time Oprah demanded we all read Eat Pray Love) where Elizabeth Gilbert discusses the notion of nurturing your creativity, I realized that I could change my mind. Art doesn’t have an expiry date. I could focus guilt free on what’s right in front of me, write when I could. I loved the story she told about Tom Waits – looking up at the heavens after getting some of his best song inspirations while driving on the highway.

Really? When I’m driving and can’t stop to write this down – this is when you’re [inspiration] going to hit me?

What we did today

When I was a kid I wasn't adventurous. Or fearless. It always irritated me when an adult insisted I try something just because everybody else was doing it. I was bookish, quiet, and continually trying to perfect the art of blending into the background. And even in my pre-kid adult life, I found it maddening when anyone demand that I join in  on something - waterskiing say - when it was the last thing I wanted to do.

And yet there I was today, bribing, cajoling and finally sweet-talking Deaglan into running through the water at the splashpad. Parenting comes with it the need to make sure your child is having fun at all costs. Even if they don't think it's fun.

We were at the park for an hour, climbing the jungle gym, swinging and spinning, all the while I was pointing to the splashpad side, directing Deaglan's attention to the fun, the wet-squealing kids were having.

"I don't want to get wet Mommy." he said bluntly.

"But it's so hot out here, c'mon, I'll even get wet."

"Nope. Can you push me on the swing now?"

"Okay, I guess Naveen and I will go over and have fun then."

It went like this for another forty minutes and finally he agreed to see what all the fuss was about.

 See? I told him he'd have fun...maybe I need to make some phone calls to some of those adults who kept insisting I try stuff...

 And this guy went for his first haircut today. For Deaglan's first few haircuts we took him to the fancy kid salon (read overpriced so the kid could sit in a helicopter and watch Dora while they snipped). I figured since soon enough they'll both join their Dad and the rest of the male population at First Choice, I might as well make the introductions now.

 I forgot about those ears.

And could you not just nibble that neck right now?

I love Saturdays.

Too much calcium?

I have a hard time saying goodbye to each phase of this kid's life. I could have easily fallen to my knees and wept the first day I had to leave him at the daycare and don't even get me started on weaning him. So it shouldn't come as surprising that I've had my challenges when it comes to cutting his hair.

I love his hair long. But it is quickly proving to be impractical. It was only about two months ago that I took him down the street to the kids' hair salon. I know, I know, what kind of a mother pays for her toddler's hair cuts. Believe me, I went down that other road and it wasn't a success. I wrote about it here. So last week when a woman said your daughter is just lovely I thought maybe it was time to go a bit shorter.

I didn't know if I would like it short. I didn't want to lose any of his baby-ness. But then I looked at him after she was done.
And I fell madly in love with him all over again.

Not one of my talents

I did the one thing I vowed I would never do. I cut Deaglan's hair last night. It was a trainwreck. For weeks I knew I would have to do something about his bangs in his eyes. How hard could it be I asked myself. We put him in the highchair and Shaune sprayed down his hair while I cut a straight line across his forehead. Well the results couldn't be any worse - I guess if I closed my eyes while cutting maybe. Shaune called him everything from Friar Tuck to Spock's mini-me to muffin head (I don't even know what that means). Anyway, I spent the evening full of guilt and shame not to mention annoyance at Shaune for coming up with all these names. I even dreamed about the bad haircut I gave to my baby boy. This morning I called the children's hair salon down on the corner and made an appointment to remedy this debacle.

He does look really cute but I'm sad that his baby hair which I loved long is gone. I didn't want to pull a Celine Dion or anything - her kid (who is a boy) hasn't had a haircut yet and he's seven. But I did want to keep his hair long for a little while longer. Oh and by the way, the big bruisey scab on the bridge of his nose also happened on my watch.