Moments

Things not to say:
You: This is the second time [client] has wound up in litigation over this type of clause. Not sure who they're getting to draft their agreements; hopefully it isn't us.
Partner: Actually, it was drafted in-house and I reviewed it before it went out.
You: .......... [try to remove foot from mouth]

Things other people shouldn't say:
Other Person: Are you getting that masque of pregnancy?
You: What do you mean? Like dark patches on my face?
OP: Yeah, right here [points under eyes]
You: Maybe. Or, maybe it's, um, just fatigue?

Things you forget:
How you spend the first half of pregnancy wishing you had a rounder, cuter belly, and the second half feeling unwieldy, having a tough time bending over and getting kicked in the spleen constantly.

Things that are cute:
How whenever LM passes gas in the bath he invariably says "Water come out my spout!" and giggles. No one taught him that, I swear.

5 Things

Must be pregnancy hormones or something, but I am feeling so appreciative for all the wonderful things in my life. In no particular order, they include:

#1 My adorable baby boy who does something charming and lovely every day - last Friday it was running into my bedroom with a tiny bouquet of flowers; "Fo' you Mama! And Daddy got a BIG flowers!!!" Tonight it was giving me a kiss and then telling me "You feel better now. Let's cuddle." And yes, two is hard, and I struggle with discipline, and occasionally he hits me in frustration, or pulls my hair, or throws himself to the ground and licks the floor of the bus while horrified passengers try not to stare. Sometimes he does all those things at the same time. But 98.9% of the time he is the sweetest, dearest, cuddle-monster who loves to do "art" to read books, to tell me about his day, and even, begrudgingly, to share. And that more than makes up for the other 1.1% of the time.




#2 My city. I am the least jingoistic person ever, but I got all teary-eyed several times today staring at the hand-painted signs in the window of every third house cheering "Go Canada Go!" I've read the Guardian's cynical criticisms (they called it the worst games ever). I won't bother linking because frankly, the article was silly, and I won't bother linking to the Canadian media response because it's been either overly defensive, or too apologetic. There have been hiccups, and even tragedy. But even as someone who normally feels completely detached from these sorts of events, there is something so electric about being here. About thousands of people from different countries coming together, celebrating and trying to each other a little bit about each other. Everywhere you go tourists and locals alike are wearing red Canada mittens. Strangers offer to help you fold up your stroller on packed city transit, and O.P.P. officers in town for just a few weeks help you carry your sleeping child up the stairs of the convention centre so you can have a glance at the flame. As LM would say "I so proud."














#3 My wonderful husband - who patiently explains to me the intricacies of curling rules and regulations and answers my 800 spaced out and repetitive questions, and then makes me dinner afterwards.














#4 The little one inside me who kicks and pounds and reminds me all is well. Sometimes I can even feel her bony little back against my tummy and I push her and she pushes back.



#5 My little boy again - who dashes out of the bathroom after Daddy has given his bath, drops his towel and yells "Mama! You like n@ked boys!" Which is funny because when I give him his bath I always tell him I like naked b@bies. (I censor that only because I'd hate to think what kind of bizarre Google searches it might attract.) And then he jumps up on my lap for a cuddle. Heaven.

Happy New Year

Cross your fingers that the worst is behind me - the two-week long headache I've had has finally subsided. I'm not perpetually exhausted - only marginally so. And I think given another couple of weeks I may graduate from slightly paunchy to cutely pregnant. Of course that means many of my pants (god - even my pajamas!) are getting a little tight as I tend to stockpile my extra pounds in my thighs and back - but it's all good!

This pregnancy has been extremely similar to my first; I also remember feeling much better as I got close to the halfway point. I had lots of headaches in trimester 2. And I gained weight the same way - lots in trimester 1. Also, weirdly, my leg hair has started becoming much more light and growing more slowly. I remember now that it was the same with LM.

A few things are different - one complicating factor in this pregnancy is that I am still breastfeeding. Yes, I am breastfeeding my 2-year old. I should do a whole entry on toddler breastfeeding at some point, but I can't really think coherently right now.

Another thing I don't recall from my first is being so anxious. Not about the baby, but about LM and D. I'm constantly worrying that something horrible has happened. D took LM outside on a ferry yesterday and my first thought was "don't hold him up near the railing or we could risk something like that Toronto airport incident." (warning - sad link). D looked at me and said "We're not even going close to the edge!" But things like that cross my mind about 10 times a day and I wish I could find a way to curb it. I know it goes beyond normal parental caution and is getting into the slightly paranoid.

In other news, New Year's resolutions; originally I thought I didn't really have any. It's not a year for big career goals. I just want a nice, healthy fat little baby and that's it. But on reflection one can always come up with a few areas for improvement:

-exercise at least twice a week (I was doing pretty well with this until the last couple of months - urrrgh.)
-start taking my lunch to work at least 2-3 times a week;
-cut back the spending a bit to save for the maternity leave
-get more adventuresome with my cooking

And for your viewing pleasure, LM:

Hapy New Year!

You know what one of my pet peeves is? When people invite you to dinner, you accept, and then they ask you to bring a dish. I'm not talking about a potluck, or a situation where everyone has agreed one person will host and everyone else will pitch in. Those are acceptable. Like when I was on maternity leave, we used to do lunches at each other's houses, and we'd all bring something. It was a communal thing.

But if you invite me to a dinner party, do not ask me to bring a salad! And especially do not ask me two days beforehand when the interim day is a stat holiday. I hate having to do an unplanned grocery trip on a day when I'd planned to loll about and stare at my two-year old all day.

D has this compulsion. He will OFFER to bring something. It's like a disease for him. You can't invite him anywhere before he's offering to bring something and then agreeing to make 25 canapes. I'm always standing next to him waving my hands in front of my throat to say "DON'T DO IT!"

Anyway, maybe these sorts of uncharitable thoughts are why I'm spending my New Year's deliciously, lazily, devouring a book. We recently started "reducing" LM's nap, which means he's actually asleep at a decent hour (read: before 10:30) and I have all this wonderful free time in the evening. It's even worth not having the looooong break mid-day. Tonight, D fell asleep with him too and I'm still wondering whether to wake him up, or just to fall into my own bed all alone and greet 2010 in the morning.

To the rest of you, Happy New Year!

Walking

In our neighbourhood, almost every one has an alley. I love that. Sometimes we walk past a house I find beautiful, or interesting, or odd, and I just have to duck down the alley and take a look at it from the back. It's so fascinating to get these little glimpses into people's real lives. Is there yard a paved concrete jungle with a broken down car? Or are there grapes hanging over trellises and tomatoes growing abundantly in little pots? Are there children's toys scattered across the lawn? Is neat laundry hung out on a line? Is there a beautiful granite water feature trickling away? Is there a family speaking Italian out on their summer deck, or four teenage girls huddled around the glow of a TV inside with a Bollywood musical? Do they have a beat-up old Rabbit or a fancy Lexus? I love our neighbourhood because we see all these things.

I think we may switch up our bedtime routine for the summer. After bed/bath/book/nurse, instead of the long ordeal of falling asleep we may just toss him in the stroller with his "Bear" and his blanket and wander the neighbourhood. We did it tonight and it worked very to transfer a sweaty little child into his crib afterwards. That's one of the things I miss about pre-parenthood - evening walks. Once bedtime happens, you have to be here. D goes on a walk by himself sometimes, but I can't be bothered to go alone. And yet I love the luxury of talking, walking, dreaming, planning.

Feelings

I feel like I should just post something since I haven't posted anything in 10 days or so, but I really don't have much to say.

I'm desperately in need of vacation. I haven't taken any real time off in months and I'm feeling a little burnt out. I'm getting to that stage where I'm worrying about work in the middle of the night, and that's not good.

D is reading a book about psychology, and according to the book, people are very visual. When they think about the future, they can picture things - a new house, a beach vacation, a child. But it's very hard for them to imagine a different feeling, to foresee that they might be happier, or sadder, or calmer, even though they're in the same situation. This is part of why depression is so hard to get out of - it's so impossible to imagine feeling better.

And although I'm not depressed, I am restless. I have no trouble imagining different scenarios - cuddling a new baby on another mat leave, puttering in a renovated kitchen overlooking a lusher garden, taking a long beach vacation, opening a bed and breakfast a different city. But it's hard to imagine maybe just being in the same situation but loving it more, or feeling better about it, even though I find myself liking my job more all the time. Why is that? Am I just unimaginative?

Happy Chaos

My last few posts have been rather depressing, but I am hoping that the horrific start to this year is now over.

In other ways, life is very, very sweet. I feel like I'm kind of hitting my stride in terms of balancing the work/mother thing. I no longer feel guilty about the time LM spends in daycare. For a long time I resisted thinking that it's a "good thing" for kids to be in daycare and I still don't subscribe to the idea that a child is better off there. But I'm starting to realise there are advantages. He loves the other children and 'talks' about them constantly and I think he gets a lot out of being there.

Despite all the trouble we had finding a place for him to go, I am so pleased with the situation we have. The woman who cares for him is so wonderfully patient and loving. I've watched her defuse arguments between the children, and she's totally the mother I want to be. (Mind you, she has lots more experience as her kids are grown!) And she talks to the older ones with such respect and kindness, answering their questions with an appropriate mix of gravity and mirth. While her home is modest, she keeps them busy at the community centre and other spots. And really, what more do kids need than some toys, some books and each other? So it's not the major centre I briefly envisioned him at, but I'm actually pleased about that. LM forms very strong attachments and for him this works wonderfully. He literally leaps into the woman's arms at the start of the day. It's really rid me of any guilty I might otherwise feel because it's as if I'm leaving him with a surrogate grandmother.

Work is fine. I am very busy these days but I am learning to find balance there too - to say no if necessary and to realise when something is urgent or not really.

And life is just good. Even on the tough days, I find myself able to find joy in the small things. I'm rarely super-stressed. And for someone who's dealt with a heap of depression and anxiety issues in my past, I feel pretty proud of that given that first few years of law career + working mother could easily be the most stressful time of my life. But I feel in control, at least most days - and what else could I ask for than that?

Oh and LM finally started walking! It only took 18 months but he's full on racing now! I can't believe my baby is now really a little toddler now. He does and says something adorable every day. This one was taken awhile ago when he would only walk holding our hand.

I Never Felt So Wicked as When I Willed Our Love to Die

There is a lot swirling around in my brain right now and if it weren't close to bedtime just before the start of another busy week (and the end of a very busy weekend) I'd probably write more.

My first thoughts are around how death brings out the worst in some people. There is at least one vulture already on the horizon, squawking about inheritance and attempting to get her greedy little claws into everything. My aunt is not even dead yet and this carrion eater is circling. She's telling everyone what a huge inheritance she stands to get and is also complaining about how my aunt is "wasting money" by not cancelling her car insurance and gym membership. Yeah, I'm sure that's top of mind when you're in the hospital dying because you have 19 brain tumours. The vulture is also telling people my aunt is a millionaire, which is so far from the truth it's laughable. This cousin has always had a sense of twisted entitlement - a sense that had a rough ride and everyone else has it easy...and (this is important) because of this they owe her something. The fact that she thinks my aunt is rich just demonstrates that delusion. The capper is my aunt and this girl didn't speak for a year before her death because this cousin picked a huge fight and refused to speak to her, although they did reconcile in the past month or so.

Also, my aunt - god it's so fucking awful. I won't write more than that.

Number three - this is so stupid - I got in a fight over a parking spot tonight. Some cow left a note on my car telling me not to park in front of her house. So I went to her house and knocked with a note saying unless she can show me documents indicating she owns the street I'll park wherever the goddamn hell I please. Let me add I was parked in a LEGAL SPOT for about 2 hours because I was at a friend's. It's not like I parked my junker for three days in front of her driveway. She came out on the street and started yelling at me - it was hilarious actually, although I did feel kind of bad strapping LM into his carseat as crazy lady yelled at me. You know what I hate? Note culture. I hate people who leave notes or send e-mails to deal with ridiculous situations. Talk to your f*cking neighbours please. Okay, I admit I didn't handle the situation as well as I could have and I'm lucky it didn't go (even more) sideways. Watch the police show up at my place because crazy lady reports my license plate. But you know what? It was really cathartic.

But not everything going on in my head is super depressing - in the past couple of days I've had some major realisations about what I want to do that are quite exciting. I'm contemplating hiring a life coach, which seems sort of new agey but I've got a couple of friends who have done with great success. I am going to set a goal - working for myself by 2010, doing legal education, giving back to the community, working with women and youth and individuals. I haven't got it all worked out in my mind - in fact nowhere close - but I've got to start a brainstorming process that involves more of a goal than just "Put in time at big firm." This situation with my aunt has been tough, but if there's one thing I'm learning it's that sometimes the present is a good place to be, and I need to make the most of it.

I Saw the Constellations Reveal Themselves One Star at a Time

2008 was a very happy year for us... we watched LM grow from a tiny baby to a full-fledged human being with a personality. He has brought us a ton of joy. I spent most of the year on maternity leave, which was wonderful, and then restarted work in the fall. That transition has gone pretty well too - still not sure I've found my true calling, but it pays the bills for now and I have a great group of colleagues. The days go quickly and before I know it I'm back with my little man for an evening. We've had some sadness too this year, as my aunt continues to decline and D's grandmother died yesterday.

What will '09 bring? I'm not sure... contemplation of another pregnancy perhaps. Potentially D going back to school. Hopefully being hired on at the firm I'm with... still not sure what department though. And some travel I hope - including a tropical vacation which I am leaving for very soon!

Resolutions? Nothing radical - to save more money, to eat more healthily. I also want to work out more for my overall fitness. Weight loss is not an issue - I realise this complaint doesn't garner much sympathy, but my main problem these days is keeping on the weight. Don't know if it's working too hard/lack of sleep/extended breastfeeding or just some weird hormone thing but I seem to be one of those women who gets thinner after baby. Other resolutions are, to try and be greener by buying less crap I don't need. Also I want to think more about what I want from my career and to make sure that I'm on a path that will eventually take me there - with the occasional course-correction as needed.

And since everyone is doing it, I thought I'd do a little recap of the last 12 months:

January - We do our first travel with baby; I leave LM with a non-family babysitter for the first time; we think about buying a house.

February - We bid on a house and lose it; the fog of the all-consumingness of LM clears a little and I become capable of thinking about a few other things (but rarely do!); his sleep regression and million and ten wake-ups through the night start to wear on me.

March - Lots more posts about sleep...

April - We buy a house! And then sell our condo (oh those wild heady days when you could do that!). LM goes to the beach.

May - We sell our condo again after our first buyer flakes out. LM and I do some travelling and I am reintroduced to the beauty of showering without a baby in the room the whole time...

June - I accost a cyclist and am bemused at my niece's comments about my breasts... oh and I run a half marathon (have barely worked out since then)

July - We move into our HOUSE and I start freaking about the fact that I have no childcare organised for LM. We go to the ER for the first time when LM spikes a 5-day fever of 103+; LM goes mobile and starts crawling.

August - With less than a month before going back to work, I organise daycare. We hire a sleep consultant and LM sleeps through the night for the first time EVAH!

September - I start back at work. My aunt finds out her breast cancer has metastasized to her brain.

October - My articles continue; LM gets various daycare illnesses.

November - A tiny bit of work drama, but nothing major.

December - We adopt a "family in need" for Christmas and buy them loads of presents. My aunt gets sicker; LM starts talking in earnest and says all sorts of English and Spanish words...

And January - I leave this post to go eat chocolate ice cream with D! See ya later...

Wintertime is a dirty cold rival

As I get older, I sometimes feel like the joy gets a little more sucked out of Christmas... instead of being about giving and joy it's about negotiating with in-laws over where you should have dinner and buying tons of crap.

I am trying to think of ways to change that - to bring back the joy a little bit. Little Man is a little older this year and I think he will enjoy the festivities, but the significance of the holiday will still be lost on him, so I can't look to him for all my changes. One idea I've implemented is adopting a family in need and buying presents for them; we signed up for that last week and I am so excited to shop for them and give a little joy to someone who needs it more than I do. I'm also keen to do something soup kitchen-y, but I'm not sure where to fit that in between all the events we will likely be obliged to attend.

So what are your ideas? How do you reclaim the joy?

Also, real Christmas tree - is next weekend too early to put it up? Will it be overly crispy on Christmas Day? I usually aim for two weeks before Christmas, but if I put it up next weekend it will be almost three weeks. On the other hand if I wait, it will only be up 10 days... dilemmas!

I Am Not Dealing With This Very Well

I've had a lot of death in my life - one parent, three grandparents (the fourth died before I was born), 2 childhood friends, a pet, a miscarriage (not sure if that really counts, but hey.)

But still, I have no idea what to say. I am not coping well with the shaky handwriting on the card, the feebleness, the realisation that this may the last birthday that she'll be here, the last holiday...

I am irritated that my mother is going out of town for three weeks. I think it's a monumentally bad idea. But on the other hand if she stays, it will upset my aunt because she will know it's because we think she doesn't have much time. Crap, this stuff is so hard. But I guess I should just suck it up, because right now it's not really about me.

Sunday Night Blues

Blah.

One of my best friend's booked a trip here without telling me beforehand and I'm not even going to be in town (or wasn't planning to be.) I thought it was a trip at least in part to see me, but I guess it was more to hang out with her other friend who lives here. Shitty. She was a bridesmaid, so I consider her a great pal, and I'm more than a little pissed off about it.

Blah.

I missed an invite to go out for dinner tonight because LM got a fever that spiked to 103... and I decided I better stay home and ensure he's okay especially since he had one scarily dry diaper. He seems to be getting all these horrid little fevers lately and I'm not sure what it's all about.

Blah.

I am having no luck finding someone to nanny-share with. One measly reply to my Craig's List posting. My new strategy will be advertising on bulletin boards in my new 'hood, but I am starting to panic a wee bit.

Blah.

I haven't exercised in week.

Blah.

The weekend is over and I didn't even unpack one stupid box or paint one single wall.

20-Year Meme

Ooh, fun, Shelley tagged me for a meme... I never get tagged.

20 years ago I:

• was 10 years old
• lived in a small town in Ontario
• had a 5th grade teacher who was obsessed with nuclear armageddon
• bit my friend's brother on the ear until it bled
• read Wuthering Heights and decided it was my favourite book
  

10 years ago I

• was 20
• dropped out for a semester, then switched my major from political science to journalism
• backpacked through Borneo
• was in counselling for fairly severe depression
• worked in the cafeteria of a law school and thought law students were potentially the most snooty people on the planet
  

5 years ago I

• was 25
• met D and moved in with him
• worked as a program officer for the government and hated it
  
• wrote my LSAT
• went to Burning Man for the second time
  
• shaved my head
  

3 years ago I

• finished my first year of law school
• got engaged
• bought our first condo
• went on anti-anxiety medications for six months
  
• spent a heavenly week in Provence
  

So far this year I

• turned 30
• sold our condo and bought a house
• continued to be in remission from my depression/anxiety
• fell even more in love with my baby and my husband
  
• ran a half-marathon
  

Yesterday I

• met friends for dinner at a sort of fancy restaurant for dinner with LM
  
• spent naptime in the backyard reading instead of unpacking
• climbed through a small hole in 5-foot fence in a cemetery and lifted the stroller over it
• talked about post-baby body image issues with a group of women at a new mom support group
• watched LM learn how to clap
  

Today I

• read part of Late Nights on Air
  
• am bummed to be stuck in the house waiting around for appliance delivery people
• mopped the kitchen floor
• got the first two discs of The Wire: Season 4 in the mail
• cursed Stephen Harper and his moronic excuses for not doing anything to reduce greenhouse gas emissions
  

Tomorrow I will

• go to music class with LM
• attempt to get my nap in before said music class
  
• watch an episode of The Wire
• go to the park
• try to savour these lazy summer days as my maternity leave winds down

In the next year I will

• learn to juggle working full-time with motherhood
  
• go to Mexico for a wedding
• finish my articles and become a lawyer
• contemplate getting pregnant again the following year
  
• be amazed and appreciative for all my many, many blessings
  

I tag: Kaitlyn, Michelle and Lindsay.

From the Mouths of Babes

The other day I was happily bouncing my two-year old niece on my knee while we sang "Walk Old Joe" when she looks over and grazes my chest with her hands. She looks up at me with her big blue eyes and says: "That's where LM eats."

"Um, yes"

"Eats milk," she says. "Only milk."

"Well, he eats some other things too."

"No, only milk."

Ah... you know you're a mother when the only comments that are made about your chest have to do with milk production.

Anyway, we are indeed homeowners, registered and all, with possession tomorrow. Our Internet access is getting shut off in the wee hours and the stupid ISP can't flick the switch to turn it back on for a few days. Between then and now I'll be celebrating a rather momentous birthday, so think of me as I cross the threshold from sweet young thing to, er, not so young anymore (though, I guess given my niece's comments, that threshold is likely already passed.)

Not Packing

I should be packing right now, since we are moving in less than a week! Egads. I did a few boxes of books today, but other than that everything is still completely in its place - all the knick-knacks, dishes, clothes, and other tchotkes. But I hate having my place in a mess, and so I guess I'd rather have a couple of days of packing hell rather than a week or more of boxing messiness. I unpack really quickly too - although with LM it will be more of a challenge.

D is out tonight at a stag party so I am watching Sex and the City. I love the show and all the subplots. But I just cannot get excited about Mr. Big. The scenes where Carrie is pining over him and having public temper tantrums because he is dating someone else - ugh - painful. I mean the guy is a complete ass. I guess that's the point, but somehow it's just not as entertaining anymore. I think I related to this show more five years ago (and maybe, just maybe had a tantrum or two myself.) But we all have our guilty pleasures, right?

Judgy McJudgermom

I decided I need to cut back on night feedings - no more than every five hours, at least until he starts sleeping some longer stretches. It is, I postulate, the only way I am ever going to get some sleep. My baby loves to nurse, and does not seem to think he can get to sleep any other way. The breaking point was when we had several nights in a row where he was up every single hour. I can no longer function like that.

So I have decided to stop trying to stop worrying about whether I am the perfect parent, or what the books say I should do. I know I am a good and extremely loving mother. I also know that what I'm doing is motivated in self-interest - LM is happy and thriving having a little nosh every hour and waking me to do it. But he is six months and nearing 20 lbs and I don't think it's unreasonable for me to put my own need for a few straight hours of sleep before his hourly need for comfort.

So the past few nights have involved a lot of crying. Some his, some mine. He is still in our room, and we do what we can to comfort him, whether it's picking him up, patting him, or simply being there. It doesn't always work, but it makes me feel better about it. I'm not following any particular method, I'm just doing what feels right.

My goals are not particularly lofty - I'd just like him to get some consistent three-hour stretches. Hopefully once he gets used to sleeping longer stretches we can go back to feeding on demand as we face the challenges of teething, colds and so on. I have to admit I've really grown to love having him in the bed, despite the fact that I sort of pretend that it's an inconvenience. But I don't see how he will ever stop eating so much while he's in there and so close to the "fridge" as D lovingly calls it, so for now, he is in his crib.

It's funny, I'm very confident in my parenting skills and I have a lot of faith in my instincts. I can't picture anyone else doing a better job with my little man. But I'm so self-conscious about parenting too. I want to be a certain type of parent - the kind they feature in La Leche League magazine or in the Teresa Pitman articles in the magazines at my doctor's office. I want to be, as Dooce would say, the valedictorian of parenting. I hated to admit in my last post that I let my kid cry for 10 minutes even though I think (I KNOW) in the circumstances it was completely understandable and did absolutely zero lasting harm.

It's so weird, I don't think I've ever been like this about anything else... I'm a leftist, but I don't agree with all leftist ideology; I'm a feminist, but I sympathise with both liberal and radical schools; I've never been in the "cool" group at school, but sometimes I was friends with them. I have no idea why I'm so hung-up on fitting into some book's idea of the perfect parent when I myself don't even think that the same parenting style is going to work for every parent or every baby. I guess it's because there's so much guilt involved in parenting, and so much judgment and I've always hated being judged. And maybe it's because I can be judgmental about parenting too, even though I'm usually not a particularly judgy person.

Anyhow, somehow this post about LM's sleep turned into a post about me. But I'm sure you're fine with that as y'all know you are going to be getting more sleep posts in the future! Betcha can't wait!

Realisation

It's funny, when I see the girls I've known since high school, I don't really feel like we're getting any older. When I think back to our high school days, I picture us looking the same way we do now. I know intellectually that it's not true, and I certainly know that when I look at a picture of us 15 years ago. But in a lot of ways, I don't feel any older than I was back then. It's strange to think I am now so much older than my older brother was back then, because I think I'd still be kind of cowed by the person he was then.

Today I was browsing someone's online photo album and I came across a picture of a mutual acquaintance, someone who I haven't seen since those olden, golden days. This acquaintance has two kids now, one of whom is probably similar in age to LM. (I still remember her getting all pissy with me because the guy she liked gave me a massage on the beach. He was a cutie too!) She looks so much older than I would have thought. She's still very attractive, and bright-eyed, but she looks like a mom. And then I remind myself, shit, I probably do too! How can that be? I still feel like such a child.

Out of the Fog

It's funny, I feel like I'm emerging from the haze of motherhood a little these days. Something about it has gotten easier. And the other day, I woke up and wondered: "Hey, whatever happened on that litigation matter I was working on?" I remember the partner I was doing the work for saying that when she had her kid, she stopped caring completely about work for a little while, didn't follow what happened on any of her cases. I couldn't imagine it at the time, but it obviously happened to me since that case did not even cross my mind for four months, despite having worked on it for two summers. I did a search and it doesn't look like the decision has come down yet.

Then the other day I was out for an afternoon, and I didn't spend half the time thinking about him. In fact, he barely even crossed my mind. It was kind of freeing, not because I don't love him, and love spending loads of time with him, but it felt like I was getting a bit of myself back, a part of me that I didn't even realise had been on hiatus. I was just me, not mummy. And it felt kind of nice. And it felt just as nice to come home to a big old toothless grin.

Flux

Well after my awesome (and long!) sleep post the other day I had a horrendous night last night - every two hours. Lots of dairy + cold + teeth possibly = very bad night. Anyway, I remain optimistic about tonight and am now back off the dairy.

When I was in law school I was so active in all this law-related volunteer stuff. Gave legal advice to low income folks, attended lectures on cases, participated in a women's law group. Now I get e-mails on this stuff and I just DO NOT care at all even one tiny little bit. It all seems so abstract and divorced from reality. It irritates me when it arrives in my inbox. Hoping that feeling fades.

To follow up on my earlier post I will say that I do remain optimistic that the perfect career is out there for me. I hope it's not super-far-removed from where I am right now, but I am going to try to stop stressing about it and trust that if I don't love what I'm doing once I start doing it again, I have the power to change it. I may surprise myself.

D worked a god-awful number of hours last week and barely saw LM (or moi.) Was quite bad. And I am tired of microwave dinners alone. He was planning to go down to four days a week after I go back to work, but now we're wondering if he should do it now. It would mean 20% less pay, which is scary. But you can't buy back this time either. I don't know, I don't know. It will be his decision.

His place of employ is staffed mainly by men. The partners don't see their families all week and are often away on weekends. When they do have a night off they play rugby with the guys from work... it's hard in that environment to request more family time - it's like an implicit insult to the choices they've made. But I just wonder what their wives get out of a relationship like that? The big house in the right part of town, the 2.4 kids in private school, the vacations to Dominican, but no time with your husband? I want more from my marriage - I want my husband. And I don't want to give up that kind of time either.

Musings...

We were talking in our yoga class about being more authentic. Truer to ourselves. Sometimes I find I really mute myself. I have strong beliefs and a fair amount of confidence but I don't articulate it for fear of offending someone. I am so fucking agreeable. Is that being inauthentic? Then I thought, well maybe being that way IS being authentic because part of my personality is a desire to make people feel comfortable. And sometimes I think I do a pretty good job of it. Lots of people used to confide in me - really personal things. But I don't get out much anymore, so that doesn't happen a whole lot. So I'm trying to find that balance between being authentic about my beliefs while still trying to put people at ease.

Anyhow - career. I remember before I had the baby I said, if I won the lottery, I'd keep on doing what I plan to do - article, work at the same place as I work at now. I'd just buy nicer clothes. But if I won the lottery today I don't think I would do that. I've had such a mental shift - I love being home, I love seeing the baby every day, I love being able to get outdoors and meeting lots of different kinds of people all going through the same universal experience. I love that 40-ish hipster baristas, or strung-out skinny east-siders, or trendy shop girls all say "Hey, I remember when they were that age." I want lots and lots of babies.

I wouldn't say I'm married to a work-a-holic, but I am married to someone who puts a lot of pressure on himself to work and succeed and who's willing to sacrifice a lot for his work. I'm not the same - I want my work to facilitate my life, and express it. Not the other way around. My success at work and school does not impact on my self-esteem the same way it does for him, although I did extremely well in law school and excelled in the work environment I was in before that. Normally I would try and mute that with some self-deprecating side-stepping, but I'm striving for authenticity here and I know that to be true.

Sometimes I think I chose law school because I'm risk averse. Because it seemed like a sensible thing to do. Because my mother said "Why don't you go to law school? You'd be so good at that." And I loved it. I know I could do well if I kept on trekking down the road I'm on. But more and more I'm thinking I want the road less travelled - not the short-cut, not the easy route. But some different path that will be more challenging and more rewarding for me. I want to take some risks. I just haven't found the right-turn off yet.

I will definitely remain on the path I'm on in the short-term. But bigger picture - I'd like to do something more authentic to me, something that taps into things I care about and love. I'm just throwing out ideas - they are random and unconnected. I'd love to start a business and do something entrepreneurial. I'd love to work with mothers and babies. I'd love to be with people as they go through some meaningful event. I worked with special needs kids for a semester and it was the only job I've ever consistently been thrilled to go to, even though it meant waking at six at a time when I was often out until four. I'd like to work in an area that furthers our quality of life somehow. I want to consume less and live more healthily. I'm willing to work a lot of hours, but I want to be able to set them. I want to live in the country. I want to be financially comfortable. I want to do something that makes a direct difference in the community I'm in.