And she's two

Shira Clementine makes my heart swell each and every day, even when I'm exhausted and irritated. Today she is two. Here is a list of things she enjoys: Alyce, butterflies, farm animals, lentils, hats, princesses, marching, painting, breastfeeding, and cake. I could go on all day but then you would surely roll your eyes and wonder why it was that you even joined me here.

She's excited about her birthday, but let me be clear: this birthday is really all about her parents. At two years old her birth is still fresh in my mind and I find myself daydreaming about my labour and what it felt like when she finally emerged. In case you are interested: a lot of pain, worry, a little panic, relief, delight, heartache (the good kind), euphoria, and hunger, in that order.

The harder memories, like the isolation I felt when she was born so many hours away from friends and family, are more distant. Instead I am grateful for the generous visitors we did have, who traveled very far, not just to meet Shira, but to offer us support. These visitors might not remember much about their trip to Delaware two years ago, but when I think of Shira's birth I think of them, too. Thank you doesn't quite cover it.

***

We are having a very small party tomorrow afternoon with some friends and their two young children. Today it is just me and the girls, as it is most days. I've spent the day baking this yellow butter cake and cupcakes, and even though we're saving most of the celebrations for tomorrow, the three of us shared a pink birthday cupcake this afternoon, candle and all. Now I'm off to assemble a wooden dollhouse for a certain two year old (please don't spoil the surprise)!

On limits and freedoms

Yesterday we found worms. Alyce dug them up in the garden and carried them around the backyard for a solid forty-five minutes, disappointed by my decision against worms as indoor pets. Shira, too, was excited by the worms in Alyce's hands and followed her around the backyard like only an almost two-year old can. Did I mention they were both in their jammies? Oh, I love non-school days. On the surface I look forward to school days because I get some time to myself to work while Shira is napping (like at this very moment), but there is something I love about hanging around with these two. I'm learning a lot from them, and not just about worms.

I'm learning a lot from others, too. After my post the other day about my resemblance to a lazy slug, my cousin, Lisa, reached out with some advice. She's an incredible mother to a one year old boy and I take what she says very seriously (she once took me white water rafting, and we didn't die, so I've learned to trust her). She told me never to stop moving during my days at home with the girls, and I think she's on to something. Not that our bodies don't need a break sometimes, but since energy often boils down to momentum, it seems like a good idea to preserve it once you've got it.

It's been making me think about my experiences working outside the home. I've never had an office job (and since I'm trying hard to forget that terrible office temp work I did in the fall, I'm sticking to my version of history), but I've worked plenty hard in other jobs. I've been a server in a bar and fine dining restaurant. I've spent years in libraries reading, writing, and trying desperately to translate Sanskrit and Tibetan (I was terrible at that job). I've taught university classes, in person and online, to hundreds of students. In all of these jobs I've often worked hard and fast, allowing the momentum to push me through hours of work that I didn't always enjoy. In these jobs I had clearly outlined tasks that kept me busy and I think all the uncertainty I've experienced in the past few years has stood in the way of the momentum that comes from becoming absorbed in the work that you do.

I've been reading a lot lately about how to balance the scales between limits and freedoms. Creativity is the outcome of this balance. If you have too many limits there isn't any room for movement in any direction, but too much freedom can be paralyzing. Lately I've become a bit of an expert on the latter and I've felt frustrated when so many (good-intentioned) people have told me just to enjoy myself, to take advantage of all the time at home with my family. But they were right in many ways and from the outside they could see things I couldn't. Staying home with Alyce and Shira is a choice I've made, given both the reality of our (un)employment this past year and my own preference to spend as much time as I can with them while they are so young. The reason I was so often deaf to my friends' advice was that everything felt so unbalanced: I had so much freedom and no tangible limits, outside, of course, the financial limits imposed by months of unemployment.

Staying busy, for me, means finding that balance. If I want to enjoy some momentum I need to declare some limits amidst all my freedom. When I find myself feeling energy-less it is often because I just don't know which direction to move in. The girls want to play, I need to put in a few hours for work and plan dinner (usually for the entire house), plans need to made for our impending move out of my mum's, and, now, I need to complete my certification to become a labour doula. My perspective this last year, feeling a bit helpless as Matt and I try to navigate a new stability for our family, has stood in the way. As simple as it may sound, I have been unable to declare my intentions for my life in such a way as to live within both limits and freedoms. I've been floating around and unwilling to commit to the realities of our life, both the good and bad. Why have I done this? Fear, uncertainty, mostly fear. But without this balance I've been useless to myself.

Staying busy, listening to Lisa's advice, means staking a claim in the life I have right now. I am a mother staying at home who works part-time as a teacher and, hopefully, as a labour doula. This is where I am, so I need to stop wandering. I love all of these things but I need to remember that some days. When Lisa offered her advice she suggested that I just get up in the morning and start moving. Take the girls out on a bug walk, she said. Spend the morning outside. And so I did. We found worms and I had a fabulous day.

Listen to Lisa. Go find some worms

What you missed last week

 

• A trip to Riverdale Farm in downtown Toronto. We traveled into the city one day last week with Matt, and while he was working we enjoyed the most beautiful little farm in the centre of an otherwise very busy city. Also: I took Matt to the Riverdale farm on our first (sort of) date in 2005. He didn't know it was a date, but I did.
• Shira napped and I took a walk in the woods near Alyce's school one morning.
• I baked two loaves of pumpkin bread, one for home and one to charm my new classmates at the doula training I began last weekend. Yes, I am on my way to becoming a labour doula (I'll fill you in on that a little bit later) and I can't wait. It's a good way to spend my time this year. Anyone looking for a doula?

• There were many trips to the library. One of my favourite parts of the day is watching Alyce put her bed together each night, carefully placing her best library books in the just the right spot. Also on her bed: Bear and Mrs. Bear, a hair brush, a drawing of her best friend, a valentine, and a certificate she received after a hard morning of entomology training at Kindergarten last week.
• Alyce learned to feed pigeons. 
• We hosted a party for my grandfather (Mary Alyce's husband) this weekend and celebrated his eightieth birthday. At eighty years old my grandfather gardens all day long, has learned to cook for the first time in his life, and is not above playing baby stroller with Alyce.

• Took Alyce and Shira out for breakfast while we were visiting Toronto. 
• Sought refuge at a friend's house after a long day of errands with The Children. I love having friends who let you throw your kids in the tub with their kids.

Now it's a new week. I'm excited for some new beginnings and I'm already working on some strategies for rediscovering my energy. Do you have any suggestions? What works for you?

Raise your hand if you wish you had more energy?

Shira rests, briefly.

I spend most of days around two wee ones with more combined energy than, well, anything I've ever known. I'm sure all of you with young children feel the same way, and wonder, as I do, what it is that we're feeding these kids. Where does all the energy come from? They just don't ever stop. They fill their days (actually) hopping from one new discovery to the next, running instead of walking, skipping instead of strolling, talking instead of breathing. The world is so big, so exciting, that they can't contain their passion for living. Exhausted as I am some days, I am grateful to be in the proximity of this energy. Lately, instead of feeling overwhelmed by their endurance, I am feeling just a little bit motivated by it.

I have been in hiding lately. But I needed some time to realize that their energy could motivate me instead of just making me very, very tired.

I have tried so many times in the past couple of weeks to share things on this blog, and every time I've fallen short of putting two words together. Yes, life is busy and gets in the way, but life is always busy. It always gets in the way. No, it isn't just about not having the time. It has more to do with not having enough of a voice. I'm not quite sure how to put into words how I'm feeling lately, how to talk about my days, or how to imagine what I want for the future. I feel a bit stalled, stuck in place. Each time I try to speak or write I draw a blank. For someone who has as much to say about the world as I do, it comes as a surprise. But amidst all of the good things, life can still feel overwhelming.

***

I've suffered from depression before, particularly when Alyce was young and I was isolated from my familiar friends and family while we lived in Delaware. That was tough, and for now I'll leave it at that. Today, this time, it feels different. Instead of depression I feel more as though I resemble a slug.

I am without energy. We are planning for the future, I am working on new projects (like the online course I finally start teaching tomorrow), and I am adapting more and more to staying home with The Children. Of course some days are harder than others, especially those days when the three of us are stuck home, inside, feeling a bit stir-crazy, but most days it's good. In spite of these blessings, I am still slug-like. I feel incapable of enjoying so much of my day because my stores of energy, both mental and physical, are low. I've tried to acquire more energy from the sheer force of will alone, but it's not working, and I'm just left with a hurting brain (willing requires extreme concentration, but I'm just too tired to concentrate that hard. See above re: slug). It turns out that I'm actually going to have to do something different. I need to make some changes.

I'm in a rut. In some ways I was pushed into this rut on account of some very practical life details, such as moving countries, unemployment, living with my mum and stepfather for the past six months (which, of course, I am eternally grateful for), and I accept that I have been challenged a bit more than I've wanted to in the past year. But I know who I am and somewhere underneath all of these challenges is a person who is optimistic, passionate, and confident. I know these things are not lost and I'm desperate to make an effort to rediscover these things. This rut has been in the making for a long time now, and I need to speak up for myself again. Of course I speak all the time (overshare much, Danielle?) but it is a particular voice I fear I've lost lately. A voice that is confident enough to declare what I want in my life instead of feeling silenced by, well ... I'm not exactly sure what has silenced me.

I have a few ideas. I spend a lot of time apologizing for past mistakes and focusing on mistakes is a surefire way to suck out a person's confidence (take it from me). The problem is that it's hard to stop apologizing. Of course I'd rather think about new opportunities, and I really am an optimist, but it's a bit of a vicious cycle: as soon as my confidence started to waiver I would worry more about mistakes I'd made in the past because I was quickly convincing myself that I was incapable of doing things differently. I was soon convincing myself that I would always make the wrong decision (such as staying in a graduate program I wasn't happy in) or planning poorly for my family (not saving money for what turned out to be a year-long emergency of unemployment). And these mistakes I'm apologizing for? These go back years, not just the past year or two. I still have guilt about decisions I made in high school. Could I be more ridiculous?  If I keep up this way my confidence doesn't stand a chance.

***

I follow Andrea over at Superhero Journal because I am consistently inspired by the way she lives her life. With confidence. With excitement. Always with purpose. I have all of these things, but sometimes I forget where I keep them. She has a tradition wherein she chooses one word for the upcoming year, a way for her to focus on her goals, to direct her steps, so to speak. She usually chooses this word at the beginning of the year (one year her word was thrive), and as much as I have wanted to follow in her footsteps and start the year off with some focus of my own, I've been stuck. Four months it has taken me to come up with my word. (Remember? Slug.)

Vibrant. Vigorous. Lively. Vital.

I am craving some vibrancy in my life again. The word vibrant, or, rather, my word vibrant (because I am choosing it for myself, to play with for the next year), can remind me what I crave so very much in my life. It isn't something I can have, but something I need to feel. Losing my confidence made me feel powerless, and feeling powerless stole my energy, allowing for sometimes-bad habits to turn into all-the-time-terrible habits.

So I have my word, my magic. Now I need to find out what is contributing to my lack of energy, practically speaking, and then banish those things from my life. (Except The Children. They are my muses. Exhausting muses.) Having declared my intention to feel vibrant again, I am now working on an inventory of things (both physical and emotional) in my life that threaten to steal my confidence or deplete my energy. I am not a slug. I can do this.

Next step? A list of energy-stealing offenders. You know I love a good list. Coming soon.

Rainbow

Anyone lose a rainbow? Because Shira found one.

Hope you're having a good Monday.

d

Confessions

1. When I eat breakfast and lunch I read cookbooks. I make myself a meal, sit down at the table, and promptly begin planning my next one. Fortunately at dinner time I have enough restraint to sit and give direct focus to the meal at hand. Except for last night, that is, when I read another cookbook. The cookbooks on my table right now are La Tartine Gourmande (a new favourite) and the Rebar cookbook (an old reliable that I like to revist every now and again).

2. I love boxed macaroni and cheese. I wouldn't choose it over my homemade mac and cheese, or your homemade mac and cheese, but I am a sucker for that box. It might just be the muscle memory that makes me reach for the box (my dad made it at least once a week when I was a very impressionable child), but whatever the cause, the force is powerful. I make bread from scratch, weekly batches of muffins, pots of soup, but boxed mac and cheese calls for me. That's cool, I'm complicated.

3. My husband gives me foot rubs almost every single night. He's giving me one right now.  No, you cannot have him. Yes, I know how lucky I am.  It started during my first pregnancy five years ago and just never stopped. Same goes for the cats' litter boxes. I just never got around to sharing that task after pregnancy. But according to my calculations I did give him two beautiful children, so we're even.

4. Here are the things that I daydream about: running for five consecutive minutes, sleeping for nine consecutive hours, having long hair, singing on Broadway, sheep, moving to France, having another baby, and my next coffee.

5. Almost every day I write a to do list for the next day and then I wake up the next morning and immediately forget that I wrote one. It's not that I don't accomplish anything that day, but it often looks nothing like my list. Why would a rational person do this? Why would I write a list only to completely disregard it? I imagine this is a case of big ideas versus follow through. I wonder how I can continue to make the most of my big ideas while implementing a plan to actually see one of these ideas through. Here is my list for tomorrow: walk Alyce to school, tidy the basement, thin out some toys, write-up a menu plan for the week,  and go for a long walk with Shira. Any chance I'll actually do any of these? I'll report back tomorrow.



What are your confessions? I won't tell.

Someone please create a helpful tutorial on raising siblings

I have no idea what I'm doing.

In Delaware I taught a prenatal class on how to best prepare children for the birth of a new sibling. It was delightful. I know babies. Sure, I've only had two of them, but I feel confident that I know what to do with them, for the most part. I know how to love them, smell their heads, swaddle their bodies, rub their baby skin, and breastfeed them, and I loved sharing all the wonders of new babies with excited older children. We made crafts, played with dollies, and whispered to each other about how much we loved babies. 

It turns out that I only really know a thing or two about siblings when one of those siblings is a new baby. I need some help, and I need it now. Can someone please tell me what I'm supposed to do with grown-up baby siblings, because I truly have no idea. I was an only child growing up and so I can't even rely on a distant muscle memory of living with brothers or sisters. I have memories of my friends arguing a lot with their siblings, so I've filed that under "normal" in the daily sibling behaviour category, but I need more data.

Here's what I know so far: Alyce and Shira love each other a ton. It's not even unidirectional. I expect that Shira adores her big, bright, and bouncing older sister, but the feeling, it seems, is mutual. Take our evening Snack and Show. Every night after dinner Alyce has Snack and Show, wherein she snuggles into my mum's bed with, you got it, a snack and a show. Until last week this has always been a solo event for Alyce, a great way to keep her busy while I nurse Shira before bed. But since Shira insists on growing up, it has become obvious that she's ready to join Alyce. The two of them enjoy their snacks side by side, and only sometimes argue over Toopy and Binou (Shira) and The Backyardigans (Alyce).

Snack and Show I can handle. Even my mum and stepfather put up with crumbs in their bed every night. I have this sibling event down.

But taunting each other throughout every meal, I'm not sure what to do with that. Don't get me wrong, it makes me giggle sometimes. But parents of siblings: does this ever stop? Of course it won't. I don't even know why I'm asking. They've discovered a new hobby, these two, and it's called "how much of my food can I shove back out of my mouth to gross out my sister." Other recent mealtime hobbies include, but are not limited to, sneaking food off the other sister's plate, throwing the watermelon at the dog, and, my personal favourite, the "who can yell the loudest?" game. Yes, I'll keep working on manners, but let's face it. It's going to be a losing battle.

I've also been introduced to the horror endured by the older sibling over the younger one tagging along at every turn. Alyce had settled in for some floor baking with her Nana the other day, and it took all of five minutes before Shira insisted on joining in. I have to say, Alyce took it well. But it doesn't always go down like that. Yesterday Alyce had approximately 4,864 meltdowns because Shira wanted all of her favourites. I was endlessly annoyed that Alyce wouldn't just share, but when I thought about it for a minute I realized that it must be a hard lesson for older siblings, and often a losing battle. The baby always gets the sympathy of the parent. Older siblings out there? Please send help.

I think I'm also just not used to the LOUD. That's not going to go away either, is it? I'm coming to terms with it all because, well, I like my family. But I think I just need a little encouragement, a nudge here and there to remind me how to be a parent of siblings. I don't need help loving them both, but I do need some assistance in the "is this normal" category of parenting. Is it normal that Alyce shoved Shira out of her way this morning leading to a cut lip on Shira's face? Probably, it was pretty minor and Alyce felt terrible for doing it. She sang Shira endless songs while Shira nursed the pain away. Is it normal that Shira tried to smother Alyce with a place mat during lunch today? I expect it is. Either way, I'll be waiting for your help.

One last thing: I have come to appreciate the ingenuity of an older sister trying to defend against the destruction of a younger one. Alyce spent an hour building a castle on the kitchen floor the other night, a glorious structure of which she was very proud. After suffering a few destructive blows from Shira, Alyce solved the problem by surrounding her palace with barricades (kitchen chairs). I really respect that girl.