Still Here

One of my loyal readers ordered me to update my blog tonight. I was going to cheat and post pictures - you know, of my son, Matthew? The one I used to talk incessantly about and have recently abandoned talking about all together? I have very sweet photos of him.

But Blogger's being a little biyatch and it's not working, so we'll have to try something else. Since I'm feeling a little guilt for not updating various Gamas on the goings on of their boy, here goes:

Some cute things he's done: Run and hug my legs when I got home, "Mama, mama!" with a huge smile. Order me and NOT daddy to push his stroller. When presented with option of eating or going to bed, get a grin, whispter, "Eat..." and begin fake eating his yogurt. Sing Rock a Bye Baby with me - word for word - for the last few nights in a row. Three times in a row, per night. Color all over his arm with markers. Play all weekend with his cousin Danny - giggling and chasing each other taking up 90% of that time. Hug and kiss the dog and say "Sorry" after the dog knocked him over tonight. Name his cabbage patch kid "Baby Shane" (nice ring, eh EEJ?) and insist on putting it to bed, in his crib, with his trains and his blankeys. Then climbing in to cuddle him.

Other stuff he does: Have a fit if we mention food to him when he's not interested in eating. Insist on riding his "motorcycle" when we come back from walks and woe be to us if we remind him 7:30 is bedtime not motorcycle time. Have a fit if we put on brown shoes and he wanted green shoes. Hoarding all cars/trains while visiting cousin Danny, cradling them to his chest and frequently punctuating the situation with "Mine! My trains, MINE!" Have a fit about once a week where he is inconsolable. Then just as suddenly wipe his eyes and say "Matthew's HAP-PEEE!" Right in the middle of my nervous breakdown.

Hopefully I can show you evidence soon that we've actually still got him running around here somewhere. I promise I didn't trade him in for the girl model.

The Never-Ending Dilemna

Most of you know I've struggled a lot with the working FT/working PT/not working "decision." In quotes because financially, it feels more like a path (full time work to pay bills and occassionally bust a move down to Florida for a week once a year) than a decision (driving a car that works, with gas in it/not driving a car that doesn't work, without gas in it. Health insurance covering doctor visits vs. self-diagnosis or delivering this baby at home ourselves. The little things.)

I have to say, it's gotten easier. Much. Having a little man vs. a tiny baby has made me much more comfortable with the balance. I can spend time at work, and still come home to someone who remembers me, knows I'll come home each night, knows I'll tuck him in and be here to get him up (most days, at least). Someone I have jokes with, who can even start to now tell me about his day.

In short, we've got a routine, an understanding. A kick ass nanny and a daddy who's home at 4 daily. And we're all used to it. He's growing, he's talking, he's smart, but most important, he's happy. This makes me happy and more confident in my "decision."

Okay, so I'm way paraphrasing what has been two years of personal growth and back and forth deliberation ... but basically, the point is, I got it, I'm good, finally.

Now with impending you-know-who on the way (don't want to hurt her feelings, but it's the aby-girl be in the elly-be), I'm of course wrassling with it all again. And let me be clear - nothing will change. Fear and doubt are rearing their ugly heads again, but I know I will continue working full time because that's our deal and we've got it going, and we need it, and blah blah. We both work, that's our family. We'll both keep working.

But set as I am, I continue to be fascinated by the dialogue - elevated to oh-so-many new levels through the blogosphere. Today I read this post from a stay at home mom about the "dirty secret" that it's great to be home. IS this a secret?

I certainly know it's not easy to stay at home. I know it's hard. But I also have never imagined it sucked either. I think it's a gift to raise your kids, to be there for everything for them. To plan your own day (okay around naptimes), keep your home, to run errands, to be the true hub of your family.

Sure, maybe stay at home moms would trade a bad day, or several weeks from an especially noxious part of toddlerhood. Certainly there's the drag parts of it. But working moms would also trade an especially long biz trip, or missing a doctor appt to have your husband or sitter go instead. There are definitely drag parts of that, too.

Who IS the one idiot working mom who ruined it for the rest of us and apparently at some point back in the 80s said, "I couldn't stay home and eat bon bons and be lazy and watch soaps all day, I'd go cuh-RAZY!" Because duh, that is clearly and absolutely not what any sane person would assume stay at home moms do. I don't know anyone who's a working mom, who says that shit and believes it.

Working moms I know all have sisters or friends who stay home and we learn from that, and so we know it's not about being bored, its more about being constantly busy. Crazy busy.

Isn't this obvious? Why do we ALWAYS feel the need to keep challenging, comparing and badgering each other? Working at a workplace has challenges. Working with kids at your home all day, ditto. Who the hell knows if they're even steven? One day or week or year might be better/worse at the one or other. Why do we keep doing this dance?

I know this is a way cliched topic ... the Mommy Wars and all ... but I can't believe that we cannot accept there are different options. Pros and cons to working FT, working PT, working out of your home for an employer or for yourself, or working at home raising your kids/taking care of your home.

And that, oh just perhaps, each of this situations might possibly fit one human better than another. And that MAYBE IT EVEN CHANGES AS YOU GET OLDER/HAVE MORE KIDS/MAKE MORE OR LESS MONEY/OTHER LIFE CHANGES OCCUR. That one size really truly does not fit all.

That is why I was pretty tickled reading how sane most (most) of the responses to her post were. Most talked about choices, and what's right for one might not be right for all. But yes, some were fairly obnoxious and judgmental - on both sides - and so I enjoyed even more the Sundry Mourning response to the whole thing. Because really, it's just not that simple. It's just really not.

And incidentally, I apologize if I have offended anyone by using "work" to refer to my situation which is working at an employer, outside my home. It's just for brevity. It is not remotely referring to the fact that any of the other situations are not LOTS AND LOTS OF WORK and in some cases, more hours a week than I put in.

And I am ONLY even making this annoying clarification because I was sort of, err, corrected by a neighbor we met tonight on this topic. Wet met him on a walk, he had kids, we had kid/belly ... started chatting, oh, when did you move in, welcome, when are you due, where did you move from ... I mentioned yep, it's been crazy with the move, a toddler, being pregnant and working full time ... he promptly got a look, I swear to you, he straightend up taller, and then he said, "Well my wife H. works full time too (jerks thumb back toward house) right here, being a 24/7 mom to these two kids. That is a FULL TIME JOB."

I could go a lot of places with that, but it's late and I don't want to belabor this further. So I'll just end this post here. Much like we ended our brief conversation shortly thereafter, funny ...

Mindless Fun, for a Cause

Tonight, I am relaxing. That is my new thing. Old thing = stressing. New thing = ree-laxxxx-ing.

So that's why I just spent about 10 - 15 minutes playing on this site, which will supposedly donate food (grains of rice to be specific) for each vocabulary word you get right. Yep, that's right, that's what I said.

Odd combo? Yes. Addictive? Oh yeah. Just try and stop testing yourself.

Highs and Lows

That's what life's like these days.

High - I am in my third trimester! The arrival of our baby is in sight.

Low - I suddenly feel like s**t a lot of the time. Swelling has set in. Contractions happen when I bend over or lift anything. I am a hormonal crazy lady about 60 percent of the time. CRAZY. My husband might suggest that estimate is a bit low.

High - We have unboxed 80 to 90 percent of our main floor. Some pictures are on walls. Lamps are setup, with bulbs. Kitchen is functional. Matthew seems relatively unfazed. Dog 1 and 2 finally settling in.

Low - Realizing our dogs aren't the problem. That would be the neighbor's dog who was inexplicably left outside all Saturday night. Barking at 12, 1, 2 and 4 a.m., respectively.

Oh, and our CAT. Who is apparently protesting our move by relieving herself in various parts of my house that are not her litter box. Tonight it was my son's basket of baby blankies. Sweet.

High - Our buyers have stopped calling us every five minutes with some other f'ing complaint.
It's officially their house and not our problem.

Low - It's their house. Not ours.

High - Driving Saturday nighth to pick out of big flat screen LCD TV we promised ourselves for two years that we'd buy as a treat when we moved.

Low - Driving to Best Buy and Sam's, we took our old Murdoch exit. Matthew gets excited look on face and says, "Home! Mathew's house!" Oh God. He's seemed happy, but only because he thinks we were on a trip, and that now we are finally going home.

Mike and I just look at each other, and I want to cry. We force ourselves drive right on past our street, with Matthew craning his next to look down it, and us talking excitedly about "new house! new house!" But with our little hearts broken.

High - Having move behind us, which means time to blog, read blogs, surf for crib sets, think about my new baby, and just flipping relax on the couch. Mike having time to go hit golf balls. Our boy really honestly enjoying his "new house"...snuggled in his crib happily every night since we've lived here, including tonight. And me having the house/TV/computer to myself peacefully for a couple hours tonight. And not one box in my immediate eyesight.

We'll just end on that note, shall we?

WE ARE IN!

So I'm sick with a cold, and over tired from not sleeping from said cold. Surrounded by boxes, three non-working, non-cabled-up TVs and fast food wrappers.

Our living room decor is a fresh eclectic mix of "stuff the movers weren't sure where to put" - a painting by my professional artist sister in law Michelle, along side Matthew's first finger painting, next to a hideously stupid collage I made in junior high school ("no, honey, you CAN'T throw it away, I made it, it's coming with.).

My dogs are continually circling and panting, wondering when we're going home.

I've started having nostalgic flashbacks of my family room; my front stoop; my flowers; my kitchen and (sigh) new fridge we had to leave behind.

But here's why I'm still surprisingly happy: I am not longer under any deadline to wrap and stuff every piece of crap I own into one of 200 boxes to be ready for movers coming at a very certain point in time. If I choose to live in BoxWorld for the next 3 weeks, that is my choice. I am also no longer living in constant anticipation - or fear - of my realtor calling with something else I have to do/pay for to buy/sell my house.

I am a new home owner! Neighbors are dropping off banana cake. Mattew is referring to the yellow bedroom he's sleeping in right now as "My woom!" I am listening to my beautiful new full sized black and whisper quiet dishwasher washing - as opposed to my old and midget sized and banging gongs loud dishwasher.

This morning Mike and I both had room to get ready in our new bathroom with double vanities at the same time vs. the divorce inducing proceedings that usually occurred in negotiating morning routines in our old one horse number.

Tonight I bathed Matthew in his new bigger and as Libby pointed out, lower down (i.e., less back breaking) tub. Hey people, it's the little things.

Last - miracle of miracles, as I was sitting here debating do I try to get online tonight... I looked down and saw that lovely wireless icon already going. I am online! I am joyous! I am settling in.

P.S. One Thing That Doesn't Blow About Moving

When your mom drives 7 hours round trip in one day, JUST to help you clean, lend moral support with the movers because your husband had to work, because she just wanted to see your new house so badly, and mainly just because she's my mom, I'm her baby, always will be, despite being a 33 year old preggo mom myself.

Oh - AND she brings two giant boxes of Crispy Kremes with her.

Moms ... are amazing. They just love you THAT MUCH.

My House: Love it or Leave it? Both

Here I am spending the last night in my house of the last seven years. Tomorrow will be the first night in the house that will keep us for the next seven, or more. I still can't quite take it in despite sleeping on an air mattress surrounded by blank walls, no furniture, no dogs (kennel) and no husband (the poor guy is STILL out dealing with unloading the garage onto our trash heap and/or into our SUV).

I feel I should post pictures of our house filled with boxes and mess. Or maybe all empty and sad. But I have none - damn batteries died and if I even had any, they're packed on a truck a few miles away, waiting to be delivered to our new side of town. A sad yet appropriately disorganized ending to our last few months here. (Read: moving really blows.)

I can't really get into all I want to say about the move. Exciting for what it will bring - our new daughter to her new home in 3 months. Sad for what we're leaving - the house I brought my son home to, had countless nights with friends, had countless beers with friends (and apparently spills - hello, my poor carpeting that was hidden under the furniture until now!), and to kick it off, the house I moved into with a different last name, just 3 short months before we got married and began building the family of seven (yes I count the cat) we have now.

This afternoon I got emotional saying good-bye to a neighbor. Thinking I won't live on this street - my street - anymore tears me up. I am happy I'll remain part of it a bit, as we'll continue bringing Matthew to our neighbor's for our shared daycare several days a week. But also scared I'll be jealous its not me living here...

And yet I know that soon I'll probably grow to love my new neighborhood just as much. After 3 months off for maternity leave, hopefully I'll know the streets intimately from walking with TWO kidsm in beautiful fall weather. Once our basement's finished, we'll definitely feel we've gotten the step up house we've waited a long time for. Having the kids in rooms where they have space to have a crib AND turnaround without bumping into something will be neat. And, it'll just be fun to pick paint colors and rearrange furniture again - to start fresh.

But walking out of here tomorrow is gonna hurt like hell.