Thursday, 26 July 2012

The Thot Plickens

Well, with Chris being away, the kids going haywire, and that stomach flu I had last week, I must have accidentally, quietly, and ill-advisedly asked, "What's next?" 

And the universe, of course, replied, "Challenge accepted."

I had an ultrasound last Wednesday (to see the Huffling's "morphology"), and boy, is it cute!  (photo to come)  Another wee little nosey, some chubby cheeks, cute little hands... you know, another Delightful HufflingTM

And before we left, the tech said that I had a short cervix. 

Mom, who came with me (as Chris wasn't there!), immediately panicked and googled, even though I told her, in no uncertain terms, to not google anything.  After all, IF they thought it was a big problem, they would have said something when I said, "Great!  I'm going to teach an hour-long, high-impact aerobics class tomorrow night."  Even though they can't diagnose or give medical advice, if it was enough to be a concern, it would have triggered something.  Like that time that the doctor's office called (after my glucose and syphilis tests) and said, "you need to come in to discuss your results" and I said, "is it my blood sugar?"  and they said, "we can't discuss results over the phone" and I said, "Oh my god, I have syphilis" and they said, "it's your sugar."

See?  A plan so cunning that if you put a tail on it, it would be a weasel.

But no, they were smarter than me.  The next night, my doctor's office called and said, "Your placenta's low.  Don't lift anything heavy."  I asked whether my two delightful children counted as heavy objects.  "Yes," she replied.  "What about aerobics?"  "No aerobics."  "Light weight training?"  "No."   "Walking???"  "Walking is fine."

Hiss.

So, Universe, not only am I still, essentially, a single mom, but my mother has moved in (damn you, Google).  Dun dun dun.  I can't work out.*  I can't lift my kids up,** or do laundry.  So, I walk to work, grumbling, eat lunch at lunch (what is UP with that?), and go home, watch my mom bathe the kids, lift them into/off of things, and push them in the stroller to daycare, since that's "heavy" too. 

And nope, still can't drink.

A girl's gotta do something:  I decided to go buy some karma today, as it's Miracle Treat Day.  If it helps the kids, I'll even have another Blizzard tonight!  Anything!  For the kids!  I am such a good person.  Nom nom nom.


* A coworker thought it was great:  I could "finally just relax and put my feet up!"  Note that, in 36 years, I have not done that, because I don't like it, not because I've never had the opportunity!  I don't want to start now.  The only possible positive is that I don't have to suffer the Ridiculous Gym Outfit fiascos 4 times a week.

**  V said, "Are you still allowed to hug me?"  Awwww....

Tuesday, 17 July 2012

I am Woman; Hear Me Whimper

Disclaimer:  this is just a vent.  It is NOT a cry for help.  Unless you can find a loophole in which I can drink heavily...in which case, HELLLLP!

As I may have hinted at in recent-ish* blog posts, the main reason that the blog went so long unupdated (it is SO a word) was that there was too much going on, too many changes, too many uncertainties, and too much stress.  So, where to begin?

(and yes, the March "vacation" and Ailsa's birthday posts are still coming, I promise)

Well, there was the excitement of Job Uncertainty, not knowing whether we would have any income at all, as I am still on contract and Chris was "affected" (I know - that one is just handed to you), and then coming up with Plan Bs for both of us, my part involving copious cover letters, tests, and interviews, all for low-level jobs that I'm not interested in, in the slightest.  (Just kidding, new boss!)  (kaff)  And then Chris got to keep his job after all.  (ha-kaff)

There was the rollercoaster of discovering, in late January, that I was pregnant, and the subsequent sorrow of a miscarriage.

There was a trip to LA, in which I was not only deathly ill for most of it, but also still not pregnant, which I discovered, ironically enough, at the Happiest Place on Earth. 

Then there was the subsequent discovery, a month later, that I was, in fact, pregnant, and apparently had been for some time, if the ultrasound was accurate in any way.  Also upsetting:  having wasted a perfectly good day at Disneyland being depressed.  Boo.

Of course, crippling sciatica, weeks of nausea, inexplicable weepiness at commercials and youtube proposals brought me back down to earth fairly quickly.

All of this leading up to a finite amount of time to make a big career move before I'm on mat leave again (woo!...eeek), and how being a trooper, yet again, has bitten me in the ... maternity jeans. 

I, the always-supportive wife (despite my smart mouth), fully supported and endorsed Chris' decision to take on an amazing developmental position, far away, for three months.  (see also:  job uncertainty, 2 small children, pregnant and dubious-mental-health-at-the-best-of-times)

"No problem!"  I said.   "You're more trouble than you're worth!"

"He's pesky and underfoot!"  I'd say.

"I can cook vegetarian meals again!"  I'd boast.

Well, he left on Sunday morning, early. 

The day started well.  We were up by 7, fed and dressed, and went to the gym, then the grocery store, came home, played in the sandbox, and baked some cookies!  This was all before lunch.  So, after a Very Short (from my perspective, anyway) Naptime, I was a bit lost.  It was another ridiculously hot day, but we waddled on over to the playground anyway (it is shady in spots) and I supervised kids climbing up and down the slide and other unsafe behaviours.  When I got too hot, we waddled on home, had some water, and (gasp!) watched Dora for half an hour while I made dinner, which I'm ashamed to admit used Sidekicks as a base.  A quick sponge-off, jammies, stories, and bed.  Great!

I hopped in the shower.  What was that noise?  Huh.  Must be my imagination.  Then the bathroom door opened, and two little kids stood there, one with large wet eyes and a shaky wail. 

"Ailsa's crying," Vaughn said.  Whatever his faults, he sure does look out for his little sister.

"I'm saaaaaaad," wailed Ailsa.

I was too soapy to give her much of a hug, but I promised to come tuck them in again once I was clean.  She settled in again, I towelled off, then cleaned up the kitchen and went to bed.  Day One done, I thought.  Piece of cake

Monday morning:  no problem!  My stomach was a bit off, but I managed breakfast with the kids, got them dressed, got them to daycare and myself to work, threw up in the bathroom, and was home again by 10 am.  The rest of the day is a bit of a blur, but it involved dry toast (nope), and a non-cooking-intensive dinner of PB&J sammies with a banana/yogurt/graham shake (belly said NO).

Tuesday morning:  I'm on this!  Up, Rice Krispies, kids to daycare... me back to bed.  The belly accepted the cereal grudgingly, and by noon, I decided I was in the clear.  I cleaned and organized a few things around the house (between long stretches on my couch and bed), and wandered over to pick up the kids by 5.  Dinner was a stir-fry of chicken, peppers and onions over garlicky noodles, treat was a handful of grapes and one of those cookies we made together, and I threw the kidlets (Sweaty Eddie and Sweaty Betty) into the shower to de-stick them.  They thought it was awesome, it only took 5 minutes, and they were in bed by 7:30.  Super Mom has returned.

So, it's been three full days, and I've only broken down sobbing once... about 20 minutes ago.  I called Chris, and he couldn't hear me well.  "That's because I'm crying," I said.  "I don't want to do this."

The hardest part, of course, isn't the doing it.  I know I can, because I have before, just not for this long.**  It's the having-no-choice part and the if-I-hadn't-acted-all-brave-from-the-get-go-I-might-not-be-in-this-mess that's driving me crazy.  To be fair, I know that it wouldn't have changed anything, but I hate eating my words, admitting that it's too much for me.  I want to be the superstar at work that I was when I convinced them to extend my contract 2 months early.  I want to cook healthy, tasty meals, hang the cloth diapers on the line, and weed my garden while the kids play nicely outside after dinner.  I want to be a great role model at the gym, too, teaching a killer class as my belly grows; I'm going through that miserable pregnancy identity crisis right now, too, where I have to reduce my activities and not be invincible Captain Fitness for a while, as my body tells me hourly...oh yes, the diasteses of my abdominals and pubic symphysis are in full swing... (men -- and not-yet-mommies -- google those at your own risk). 

Is it wrong to dream that, or to expect it of myself???

I had a beautiful, relaxing weekend at a cottage right before Chris left, and it was all I imagined it to be (without the sunburn part, that is), but I don't see how it will be enough to get me through the next 74 days.

Truth time:  you know, if I could drink, none of this would even be an issue.

Sigh.





* "recent-ish" being relative, of course.

** not the 3 days, silly.  It's the upcoming 74 that are really looming.

Wednesday, 11 July 2012

Whole Sort of General Mish Mash

There IS more to come for February-June (honest!), but in the meantime, here's some quick updates of "recent" "excitement" in Huff House East.




The Domestic Goddess gets herself into a pickle...
Inspired (ordered?) by sous-chef Encraque, the DG blended up a quick white bean dip (with fresh lemon, sundried tomatoes, and basil from our garden...the part that the squirrels and too-hot weather have left alone), fenced in by carrots, with non-prickly, pickly cactuses (cacti?) standing in them.  The salt and tang of the pickle really went well with the mild bean flavour.  OlĂ©!



Snugglebugs
This photo shows off not only the ridiculous snuggliness of the Hufflings, but also my new, improved teeth.  The braces have come off, and I'm just left with a nice smile.  And 6 more months of perpetual retainer wear, followed by nighttime use for the rest of my life.  Worth it.




Um, newsflash... ish.
After an afternoon of fabric painting, the Hufflings proudly showed off their creations...with a twist.





So, yep, it's happening again.
  20 weeks along, today.  Yahoo?  More, of course, to follow.
When I get around to it.