Hello Hello

So it's 2016 and my son is 2 years old (WHAT?!) and my baby is teething and I'm back up to full time units at school and still working as well and it's been about 70* around here which is lovely after all the cold and storms and my sister came to visit briefly last weekend and it was so so hard to let her go back home.

How are you?

pros/cons

Phil and Hunter went to visit family, so Phoenix and I are on our own this weekend. The house is so tidy (I cleaned up yesterday, and it's still clean!) but it's also very, very quiet. The Christmas decorations are up in record time, and I can pretty much nap whenever I want. Still, I can't quite decide if I like it or not. I think I might miss my messy boys.

AWOL

Oh gosh, I haven't posted since July??! Sorry, anyone who still shows up here!!

So, updates: We moved a couple of weeks ago, and we're almost settled in. I don't know for how long exactly, but at least I know we have a place to bring the baby home to. The kids' room turned out pretty cute, I like to sit in there sometimes even though it's tiny. Phil is working again and he really likes his new school. I am having early labor symptoms, but I'm far enough along that it's not worrisome and she can come whenever she wants to now. Hunter has become very protective of me and is also noticing babies everywhere we go--so maybe he has figured out what's up after all! We do tell him often that baby sister will be here soon, and that certain things in the house are for her. The other morning I found him cuddling his baby doll on his shoulder with no prompting; I think he's going to be an excellent big brother. :)

I'm so happy it's finally October... I am more than ready to meet this sweet little baby and settle into our new routine. I can't wait for us all to get to know each other, and I'm really looking forward to our first Christmas as a family of four. I feel like as soon as she's here, we'll be complete.

there's simply no accounting for taste

The other day we were getting ready to go to the store, so I asked Hunter to find his shoes and pick out some socks. I wasn't sure if he would actually listen, but he went right to it. After much deliberation (throwing many pairs of clearly inadequate socks on the floor) he brought me his too-big turquoise Christmas socks with little penguins wearing Santa hats on them. Smiling hugely, he backed into my lap so I could help him put them on, and I did. I let him wear them even though they didn't match his outfit and even though it is April and nowhere near Christmas.

And maybe it seems silly to you, like a non-story basically, but I felt so good about it, like I had won at something, because my mom would NEVER have let me wear those socks in April or maybe at all. But he had done exactly what I asked him to do, and there was absolutely no good reason to make him think he was wrong. Just because I wouldn't wear Santa penguin socks in April doesn't mean he shouldn't wear them if he feels like it.

Autonomy is so precious, you guys. I can't even tell you. For your own sake I hope you don't quite understand what I'm talking about. I'm confident that Hunter won't, and I'm glad.

motives

I believe that it is possible to be happy and fulfilled without children, and I absolutely believe that a woman can live a meaningful life without ever being a mother. But for me, having my son is what changed my mind about living. It made me not just want to live, for the first time ever, but to live the best possible life. To set goals and pursue them, for real, not just say something that sounded nice and then dwell on all the reasons why it was impossible. The goals I have for my life now still seem big and far away, but I know that I can reach them, and I am determined to show my son that adversity does not guarantee failure and delays do not equal defeat.

I won't ever say, "If I can do it, you can do it." I don't know what you can do; only you know that. But I have room in my heart for you, and for your struggles, because of how I chose to deal with mine.

kicking butt

I was going to say that first-time parenting, working, and being in school all at the same time is seriously kicking my butt, and that's why I'm so tired... but then I decided that I am seriously kicking butt at it, rather, and THAT is why I am so tired. If I stopped caring about any part of all this, I would definitely get more rest.

So. Now I feel more empowered.

Today I am thankful for my busy, needy, beautiful son, and the way he has inspired me to work harder than ever to make our lives better. xo

abridged

Just one lonely post for all of September. Man.

I have opened up a blank page several times and there is just too much to say so I close it again, still blank. That's what happens when you wait so long. Hunter is 8 months old today; time is rocketing by and the days are busy yet somehow so boring, every single one the same. My investment feels invisible most of the time but today he hit himself in the face with a book and charged straight for me, with his new-learned, stilted crawl, head down, tears streaming. His mama-radar finely tuned, always taking him the shortest route. He knows where to go when life hurts. I'm right here, baby. I'm here. He believes I can fix it. Which means I'm doing something right. Thank goodness. It all could have been so different.

Daily life is a grind but there is sweetness in it too. Turning 30 this year has dawned on me slowly, pushing me to refocus, keenly aware of my choices and where they are taking me. It's so easy to let life happen to you. It is not easy to make your life happen.

I am reading a lot of articles these days; ISIS, Syria, feminism, sociology, psychology, presidential candidates, student debt, water shortage, the NFL. It feels good to have opinions about things and lively, educated discussions. For the past year I was in a sort of limbo, dealing with aggregate trauma around my pregnancy and bringing a tiny new human into the world. Now I feel suddenly awake again and it is refreshing and uncomfortable at the same time. But healthy discomfort can breed welcome change and that is what I am going for.

When Hunter was born, my old life ended. I have a new life now. And a squishy belly, and not enough sleep. And something gorgeous and unfathomable and inimitably worth living for. I never knew I could feel this way. I can't explain to you how powerful it is, to live for the first time under the assumption that living is good, that it's the best, that I'd rather not give it up. I fought so hard for so many years. The pure optimism of it boggles my mind. And yet here it is, the life I was fighting for.

rice cereal and existentialism

I thought life was passing quickly before, but nothing makes time seem to pick up speed like watching a baby grow and change right before your eyes. He is so awesome and active and awake to the world.

He started rolling for real-real after I went back to work. He could roll before, but he didn't very much, probably because his big sweet head is too heavy. Though even now he mostly kind of rolls around his head. Like a pinwheel, or like you may have seen a breakdancer do. He likes to sit up, but still falls forward after a second or two. I tell him not to worry, his head is just heavy because he has such a big smart brain. Like mama, Phil adds, smart as well.

I bought Hunter a booster seat last week, where he leans nonchalantly and practices picking up rice snacks. He eats cereal and bananas on the regular, and has tried squash and mangoes and apples and other squishable things. But his favorite food so far is avacado, which makes me oddly happy for reasons I can't explain. He gets super excited about it and makes us laugh. He also tried drinking water out of a plastic cup recently, which he first thought was a funny joke, then decided was a mean one.

I love every single one of his facial expressions, and all of the noises he makes, especially when he surprises himself with a particularly loud squawk. He doesn't really chatter, so it feels special when he tries to talk, like he really wants to communicate something important with you.



He has met so many milestones so suddenly that for a few days I was experiencing some level of panic as my own mortality was made abundantly clear to me by way of his rapid development, and I saw his (and therefore my) whole career as a human playing out as if in fast forward on a movie screen in my mind. All I could think was, Holy shit, it's not going to be like this forever. One day he will be an adult and I will be old and then it will all be over and I don't know what comes next. And then my brain would start melting, like, How the hell am I supposed to deal with the weight of this knowledge? Shit, shit, shitshitshitshitshit, holy fucking shit, no stop no, etc.

Usually I have no fear of death and can rationalize the end of my own existence quite well, but I am so attached to this tiny person and his progress is so easy to see and I care so much about it that it throws many of my complacent attitudes into disarray. I think this is a big part of what we are getting at when we say we wish that babies could stay babies forever. It was easier when I had no strong attachments. There were people I loved very much of course, and who loved me, but I knew they could get on just as well or almost just as well without me if they needed to. My son would not get on just as well without me.

And I actually like being alive most of the time now, too, so there's that.

I have adjusted mentally and am doing better, but it was an uncomfortable bout of insecurity to say the least. Thank goodness our minds are generally good at distracting us when things get too intense. Self preservation and whatnot.

-----

I haven't started his baby book yet (though I did finally purchase one, omg!) so I am using this space to help document his firsts and my personal/parental freak-outs alike. My instagram has also turned into mostly Huntergram since he was born but for the same reason so I am unapologetic.

Seasons, you know?

here is the world

My sweet baby is one month old. I'd love to say something poetic and concise about being a new mom and how magical it all is but I don't quite have it in me at the moment. Sleep deprivation and whatnot, you see. But my heart is full. I still tear up when I talk to him, but I do talk. Sometimes he looks concerned and I make sure to explain that I am happy, not sad. I don't worry anymore about being a good mother, I just do the things a good mother would do. Phil and I love him and sing him our own made-up songs and tell him about the kind of person we hope he will be, the kind of life we'd like him to have. I knew we could do it, and we are doing it, and everything is going to be fine.

Here is the world, my love.
It is all for you.

I will be the one to show him how to not be afraid.

hello!

I am 2.5 weeks old! I have been to Target, the grocery store, the lake, and three restaurants, but I don't remember because I slept the whole time. I like milk and my soft blankies and staring at faces and windows. I do not like getting my diaper changed or waiting for anything or when I poke myself in the eye. I hardly ever cry, but when I do I go from zen to boiled lobster in less than a second. Daddy went back to work yesterday and we really missed him a lot so I had to yell at him a little when he finally came home but we're cool now. This place is pretty weird but I'm trying my best to fit in.

*grumble*sniffle*mumble*whimper*cough*

Feeling kinda pitiful over here with the cold. that. will. not. die.
Can I go home now? Like, forever?

counting down

Two months sounds like way too long to still be pregnant and also not nearly long enough to have everything ready for this baby. But I want him out. I am so miserable. (Please for the love of all that is good do not remind me that first babies almost never come early and more often come late. I might not speak to you ever again.) We are hoping for anytime between Feb 1-14. He will be full term and good to go. I am counting down, trying to focus on things I have to look forward to in the meantime.

First up: the party this Saturday. They had to call it a "Welcoming Baby Party" instead of a baby shower, so that I would show up, because I have always hated baby showers so much! I am looking forward to this party though. They promised me co-ed attendees, no silly games, and lots of good food with sparkling cider for me and nice wine for everyone else. We are also letting people vote on the baby's name, out of our top five choices. Should be interesting. And if we can arrange it we might also set up a video camera for people to record messages to the baby. Yay!

After that comes Christmas, then New Year's. Then just a few more weeks of work and deciding when to begin my maternity leave. Time should fly. I hope so.

resolved

I actually won an argument for once.
So, no more trouble in paradise. For now.

silent

I do not talk much. I am thinking every day about your tiny body, about the delicate chemistry of your brain. I wonder what you will be like, about the depths of your psyche, the unknown places of your soul. I feel guilty, because I should be talking to you, should be laughing and singing and telling you stories so that you will remember my voice and will know that you are welcome here and will think that this is a cool place to live. All the books say so. They say I should talk. I want to. But most of the time all I can seem to do is cradle your temporary home in my two hands and try not to cry. I am quiet because I am afraid, and I don't want you to know. But I'm sure that you know. Your future flashes through my mind by day and my own past haunts my dreams by night. Carrying you this far is the most difficult and frightening thing I have ever done. Even steel has it's breaking point, and I am far less than that.

-----

I'm trying. My own voice is loud in my ears, and startles me, alone in the car. Other times I rub my belly and send loving thoughts and hope that it counts for something. My biggest concern is mental health. I want him to be sound, smart, capable, courageous. I tell myself there's no reason why we shouldn't all three of us be diliriously happy, deliciously whole. But I worry still. Standing at a crossroads again, and not knowing where we will live, what we will do. I want Phil to be happy, and I want to be happy, and I hope we can achieve that at the same time, in the same life, together. I hope so for our baby's sake and for our own sakes, too. I need to do some research, get some things figured out, ease my anxiety somehow, self-reflect. But work saps my mental energy and by the time I get home I feel like there is little or nothing left. We need the money just to get by, for now and for later, but I am so miserable going to work every day, and there are still four months to go. I'm not sure what to do.

Will you send us some loving thoughts? It must count for something.

currently

Apartment living has its pitfalls (most of our annoyances have been plumbing-related) but so far things are working out and we like our new place. Fremont has pretty much every convenience you could ask for, and we are enjoying exploring the area. I am really happy with the way life is coming together right now; the apartment, the baby, and being with a really great guy who loves me and enjoys my company. I feel like things are on track for once, even though it scares me to say it. I am just trying to appreciate this time, and take each day as it comes.

settled

P is staying over for a few days this week. This morning as I was getting ready, I reached into the medicine cabinet without looking to grab something, and did not feel what I expected. When I looked, I saw that P had found a space and put his shaving kit in there, instead of putting it back in his bag, or leaving it on the counter as he usually would.

This little act of settling in has made me absurdly happy all morning.

typical

I've been procrastinating rather badly but it's all coming down to the wire now so I'll be packing furiously (adverb open to interpretation) tonight and tomorrow and getting everything in order on Saturday and then moving on Sunday. P is moving as well, so we have a lot of work in front of us this weekend but I know we can do it.

Work has been very busy lately which is really good for the company but exhausting for me, and it means I haven't had a real day off since Memorial Day and what with moving am unlikely to have one again until at least the 15th. Hopefully I don't drop before that.

Anyway, take care guys. If I don't show up next week send a search party.

fitness secrets

I've never in the history of ever had thighs that don't touch, though I am usually reasonably fit. I don't much mind the way they look but when I go running in shorts I get an icky rash which is extremely upsetting and painful. And I can't just stop wearing shorts because you guys it is dang hot out and plus I can't get a tan in yoga pants and without a tan I'm pretty sure they kick you out of CA. (Just kidding! Maybe? I don't know, I haven't totally figured this place out yet.)

Anyway. If you have thighs that don't touch... Please, kind wizard, teach me your ways.

bachache, boxes

Please excuse my absence... Not only have I been in photoshop-land in most of my spare time but also I moved rather suddenly over the weekend. So I have a great little place now that is cute and mine and the location of which has shaved a full HOUR off of my commute so that I arrive at work in the mornings in less than twenty minutes, and get home afterward in about the same. Which feels like a miracle.

Pictures as soon as all the mess is cleared away!

my weekend

FRIDAY:


SATURDAY:


SUNDAY: