Preludes And Nocturnes

Jim’s dad died in the middle of the night. It is such a shock. He was out for a walk and fell, breaking many bones in his face, his nose. He was found and rushed to the hospital, but on the way suffered multiple heart attacks.

What it took to resuscitate him took a toll on his body. He has been very healthy, but he is still in his 80s. They believed he suffered brain damage in the process, and they know he also ended up with broken ribs and some internal injuries.

It was just a matter of time from then on. It was just too hard on his body.

Most of you know that Jim’s mom died just this past January. Paul still lived in the same house as he’s lived in for the past 50 years. There was no sign that this was coming - in fact we were talking to him about him coming here for Christmas this year and we had planned on going out this fall so he could meet Malcolm.

We’ve been trying to figure out how to get out east.  We were looking at a few flights (there isn’t anything direct to Albany), but then found out that Malcolm would need a passport to ender the USA by air.  I just made some calls and the only way we could get an urgent passport is to travel to Vancouver and go in person- even then it will take 24 hours from the time we’re in the office, and that would put us into next week. The ground crossings can use Malcolm’s birth certificate. Seattle was my first thought, but the drive will be in excess of 9 hours and most of the flights from Seattle are not direct.

I’m checking the Montreal option now. Fly out to Montreal and then try to rent a car and drive down from there. We’ll need a car, I think, anyway so this might make the most sense. I’m just freaked out about the idea of renting a car, getting around a new city - all with a 4 month old. And I hate driving in new cities that I don’t know.  I’m just a bit scared.

But I don’t know how else to get us all there.  My mom has offered to take Malcolm, but we’ll be gone for too long. And I think Jim needs Malcolm along with us.

 I cannot believe it. I never would have thought that an infant would need a passport. I never thought that Paul would suddenly be gone. I don’t know how best to support my husband through all this. What a horrible night all around.

Our ads are out for our rental suite.  And having never done anything like this there are all sorts of considerations we’ve never, well, considered. (We’ve always been the renter, not the rentee - rentee? yeah, whatever.)  AND given that we’re living on the main floor/upstairs with people right there in our basement, it means we really really want things to work out as best as possible.

So I’m trying to think up questions for our application form.  Here is my list so far:

• *Soo, plan on making or selling any illegal drugs?
  
• *Would you anticipate a future of flaking out and offering me nine million excuses on why you can’t pay the rent, including rather long awkward stories about your personal life?
• *Do you believe that if you open the bedroom window and smoke with most of your head outside that doesn’t count as smoking inside?
• *True or false - the movie is only worth watching if you can feel all loud noises vibrate in your rib cage… from the bedroom.
• *Have you ever kept live farmyard animals in your home?
• *Dead ones?

Anyone have anything else to add to this? We’re taking real advice along with the silly.

(Edited to add: yeah, this is long. And sorry I haven’t blogged for a while, I was totally sick with, I think, a gall bladder attack)

I have this crazy fear of people seeing my new house. Why? Well because it is rather messy. And disorganized. And I, my friends, am organized. I have always maintained that I am organized only because I am, actually, incredibly disorganized. Can you follow that. The conversation usually runs along the line of:

“oh jenn, you are so organized with all your schedules for completing your thesis and binders for tracking journal articles.”

“no, I am a spaz who would never find anything if I didn’t do this. If left to my own devices I would be sitting in the middle of a pile of papers, dirty dishes, and unwashed knickers.”

Substitute all sorts of things for that first line. My ongoing lists, my organization of my work files, my spreadsheets comparing different strollers along the lines of prices, features, and colour options…

Now take that second line - my greatest fear - and make that my current reality. I just feel like my house has become an incarnation of my true disorganized internal self. The rooms full of boxes half unpacked. The piles of baby stuff in the living room. The never really emptied laundry baskets of clothes.

Anyone who knew me in my teen years knows I’m not a tidy person. I am a cluttered person. I have cluttered thoughts, cluttered shelves, cluttered purses of tic tac containers with only one tac left. I struggle against my impending towers of clutter daily. The move down from PG where I went from a 3 bedroom house with full basement to a two bedroom apartment saw the clutter build (in my mind). Although there is an argument to be made that it wasn’t really clutter, it was just the reality of moving from a larger home to a smaller apartment while also merging households with my husband. And now we’re in a house and it hasn’t gotten much better despite the basement (empty and waiting for us to find the perfect renter) and the third bedroom (beeb-a-rama). Add to this the one week in new house and then beeb makes his debut just a smidge early and we have the perfect recipe for Jenn going mental with the mess.

But I’ve been pretty good. I’ve gone a bit zen on the messes and whatnot.

Mostly.

It is just when I think of someone coming over and seeing my nice new house that I kinda freak. I worry about being judged. And I think part of what I struggle with is the difference between gross messes/unhealthy clutter, normal homes that are lived in, and The Perfect Home ™.

I don’t understand how some of my friends have those homes: those perfect homes. You know, those homes without books stacked around the living room and laptops with papers on the dining room table. Homes with coordinating furniture and things that all fit in their places. Homes with bowls of things in the middle of the dining room table that aren’t even real things like balls made up of willow sticks or something. And vases full of glass beads or glass rods or, um, stuff. And shelves with so few books on them that there is room to put some books flat and leave a space and then have a nice single piece of pottery. All the furniture matches - throughout the whole house! There is a single accent colour in the living room and everything is either the neutral or the accent.

I really saw it when I watched Juno. You know the difference between the adoptive home and Juno’s home - that is how I feel. And I don’t want that perfect house, I’ll never have it so why want it? But I still struggle with feeling that people might judge me when they see my house. And I don’t know why there would be this value put on the one vs the other… I don’t judge those who have those kinds of homes, I don’t judge those who don’t - unless it is me.

Cat hair rolls in tumbleweeds down the floor as you walk from the living room to the kitchen. Some kitty kibble might greet you there where Rupert has knocked the bowl over. It doesn’t sit there long enough to rot; I don’t have a smelly dirty house - but it isn’t vacuumed or swept every day, and right now it isn’t even done every week. I have so many beautiful quilts and knitted blankets and pillow covers from far away lands bought/knitted/hand-crafted by people I love. I love them, I wrap myself in them, I display them in a jumble of colour and textures at the end of the couch. But they are not monocromanic in the slightest. And they all live in my living room at the same time.

What is funny is that if I think of homes I have known growing up - my home, my friends’ homes - that are similar to this, I remember them as being so comfortable and cozy and loving. I grew up expecting homes with comfy couches waiting to have the various quilts pulled over feets and legs as we all snuggle down with popcorn to watch a (vhs) movie. There should be a cat sleeping on the quilt when you go to pull it down. There should be a half-read magazine on the mismatched end table where you go to put your glass of pop. Somewhere on the main floor someone has a spot set up where they are writing/painting/knitting/crafting/sewing so there are piles of books, paints, textiles, feathers, papers. I loved those houses. And when I am in the right mood, I love the thought of being one of those houses.

So why is it that I stress about being that other house? I think part of it is having a new house. I think another part is all the home decorating shows. And I think, now, there is more stress put upon having these coordinated homes. I know as a teen I rolled my eyes at fancy rooms nobody was allowed to go in unless there was company. Not to say I don’t like a neat home, at times, but this is different. And not to say I don’t like a decorated home, I love decorating and I love beautiful things - but again this is something different. This is a fear. This is a strange belief about a “perfect” house.

And this isn’t about having a baby. Trust me, I’ve struggled with this before Malcolm arrived. Now, thank goodness, I just have a valid excuse.

I will now share some pictures of my home - when we first moved in and from this week:

(please note the box of huggies is, in fact, a box of cloth diapers)

And I won’t leave you without some beeb (boob pic at the end - you’ve been warned):

It is 5:30am and I’m feeding my 11 week old son. He is fussing on and off of the feed. He wants to eat.. he doesn’t want to eat. I’m getting slightly miffed as I really want us to get back to sleep; I could use another solid two hours.

Then he stops eating, looks at me, scrunches his face and lets out a loud, guttural “UUURRRRRRGGGGG” - soon followed by the mother of all wet farts. He doesn’t let up. He grunts and poops loud enough to make any caveman proud.

I burst out laughing. No matter how tired I was and how much I wanted to get back to sleep, this was just too funny.

And the content look on his face when he is done, his satisfied smile and his grin up at me as he waits for the praise he feels he is due… priceless.

Yep, one end of him to the other - with a pee thrown in for good measure (and he then spit up on himself while I was cleaning.. which made me laugh too at that point). Then as I lifted both his legs and pushed his knees to his chest to clean the rest of his bum, he poo’d again. It was like lifting his legs up and back like that operated a soft-serve ice cream machine.. or maybe a slushy machine. I laughed so loud at that one I was thinking Jim would hear me upstairs.

Anyone find that after they clean up something like that they feel like they still keep smelling poo? I’m sitting here at the computer (as we are now way too wide awake to let mommy get back to sleep), and I have to keep checking my hands and my arms and my shirt because I feel that there MUST be more poo on me still.

Of course there are those times where you discover there IS still poo on your hand… like when I was out at my friend’s place at the COUNTRY CLUB. Yeah, I wasn’t feeling out of place enough already without a smear of baby poo on the back of my hand.

*sigh*

Pictures are not from this morning’s poofest.

I think this woman and I are twins. Except she knew how to lanolize her wool and I didn’t (hense my finding her with a google search so I could lanolize the wool covers Leone just made for me).

But her post made me laugh and laugh. Very good.

Mom and Leone are not here today. Julia went back to Vancouver (and soon she’s off to her new placement for Drs w/o borders). Leone is off to start finding her grown up teacher job (she just graduated!).  And Jim is teaching two summer courses so he is not in the house.  Who does that leave in the house? Me, beeb, and cats.

Cats not too helpful.

But on the up side Malcolm has decided to nap *not on me* for the last hour. I did dishes, bottles, laundry, and still need to brush teeth and lanolize covers.

Wish me luck!

2:30am Report.

Wednesday (yesterday) we all did our first family outing. We went to the doctor’s office for our one week check-up. We were only 20 mintues late. I think that is some kind of newborn record, right? I mean, they factored in for that.. yes?

We also went to a great little store and got a sling. I love it.. but, I’m not sure about Malcolm’s placement in it. I am not happy with his constriction and worry about air flow. We will fiddle some more tomorrow, and I watched the youtube on how to make him not squished, but we’ll have to see. Look up peanut shell sling to see them. Might I add that EVERYONE ooh’d and ahh’d over beeb everywhere we went?

Then we went to London Drugs where we picked up ALL their stock of the formula we’re using since to date this is the only place in town that carries the one we use. Formula is interesting. You first get the brand, then you get their particular “formula” of formula, then you get the format. So I don’t know how this brand manages to get on with the hospital, but well done company, well done. I mean, hey I was writing down what we used at the hospital and you can bet your shiney red wagon I was going to find the same. That’s the brand, then the formula. This is the one with iron (duh - what’s up with the low iron?) and the omegas. Check. Then the format - this one is the Ready To Serve. Reason being that the powder is not guarenteed to be sterilized. No biggy according to the LC if all things are equal (she was nicely on board with me re: over sterilization etc), but given Mal is a preemie - we’re doing some extra precautions until his birth date. There is also the concentrate (add boiling water), but right now I don’t want the extra step for pretty much the exact same price.. thanks very much anyhoo.

So all stores have the brand. All stores have ready to eat. All stores have a version of the omega/iron combo. Only one store so far has all three together.

So I bought every single packet (sets of four cans) from the shelf.

Have I talked about boob feeding yet?

As a preemie, little Malcolm had some issues with eating. He was thinking he had a free ride still for another four weeks. Breastfeeding was not good. Plus, I have some milk issues given that I had the breast reduction. Now, I’m producing milk (go boobs go!) but not enough. Combo all this - two frustrating days and Mal losing weight.

No boob Nazis. No horrible pressure. Some conflicting info depending who was on shift, but all in all we went to finger feeding via a tube some formula to suppliment. We still tried the boob, but it wasn’t happening.

So I also started some meds to up my milk production - domperidon (sp?) and bought the mother of all breast pumps (is it okay that even with the discount hospital rate and no tax the $180 made me cry a little?) but I wanted to get some boob milk into my little guy. And Jim has supported me all along with whatever route I wanted to take. He also watched carefully for anyone putting pressure on me.

Now at home we are pumping throughout the day and feeding as much breastmilk as possible with forumla as top-up. I say the formula as top-up, but truth be known the formula is the greater amount of the two. I read some women talk about the frustration of pumping and only getting 1.5/2 oz a session. I pump for 30 minutes (15 each side) and do the snoopy dance of joy to get an ounce. I call out things like “look at what lefty managed today! Good job little lefty!” (Lefty has been a bit behind in all this.) Then I turn to my powerhouse, my saviour in all this pumping, the boob that will get it done. And righty will take the 15minute teaspoon worth of pumping from Lefty and turn it into a solid 30 or even 40 ml. Meeting and possibly exceeding that 1 oz mark!

But it is hard to keep pumping and seeing so little results. I hope to increase the number of pumps and maybe spur on greater results the next few days. Keep you all posted

And I love the japanese inspired Monster Lizard Rupert comments, and yes we’re calling him Mal as well as Malcolm. xxoo

Beeb’s first knitting with auntie Leone:

What he does when we try to breast feed:

Snuggling with daddy:

Napping with grandma:

We’re home! I’m not able to sit for too too long (ooch) but am trying to get around and say a quick hi and let everyone know we’re all good. We were at the hospital a bit longer than expected, but everything is good, and we’re so glad to be home.

Mom and dad and Auntie Leone have been helping like crazy so the house is ready for beeb. Or, if you would like his other name - Malcolm Phineas. And here we are. A few more pictures, much love, and an update - no doubt- in the next day or so.

*much ecstatic bouncing up and down of Bears*

Beeb was born last night, May 13, at 9:16–a month early but still weighing in at a solid 6 pounds, 10 ounces! Baby Boy and Mom are both doing great.

Beeb still doesn’t have a name other than Beeb, as Jenn and Jim thought they had another month to figure that out.

Beeb catching some rays on the baby warming thingie

Beeb and Mom resting the following morning

As mentioned below, I will be teaching from 8:30am-2:20pm three days a week (for three weeks) starting next week. This will be interesting on a number of levels. First, that will take me to the END of week 38 pregnancy wise. Yes, I have a few back-up people arranged. Second, this will be the longest class I’ve ever taught. I’ve done three week intensives other summers but the timing was kinder (a WMST one last summer - wow, was that really only one year ago - but we scheduled it on four mornings rather than three days thus meaning no need for a lunch break and making the day significantly shorter). Third, oh I forgot my third point.

So I have broken the class up into just over an hour long sections. Section one, coffee break, section two, coffee break, section three, lunch hour, last section. I quite like 60-70 minute sections. That seems to max out the attention spans without entering the glazed portion of the show.

Again, interesting as I’ve never taught four classes in one day - which is what this pretty much comes out to be. So I am doing very much what Kim mentioned in her comment yesterday - share the work!

Section one: lecture. I will talk, they will write, they will feel they’ve been “Instructed”. As much as I try to drill it into students that active learning gives them more skills, they learn as much, and they learn with less pain and wasted time - students want to be lectured to and to take notes. I continually get the feedback “but how do I study for this test as there are no notes!” and I ask if they could write a three page long reply about the use of the hero’s journey to explore notions of childhood transforming into adulthood/maturity in three of the texts we covered and they say ‘yes, no problem’ and I say ‘well that’s the whole point!’ But they still want notes. It doesn’t matter that they learned the components of the Hero’s Journey by actually tracing it out in our multiple examples and in group work and in our discussions. They are worried because they don’t have a page of notes on it. So you know what, each morning I”ll give them some notes - but that is it! Plus it will cut down on the late wanderers or at least provide some tangible consequences.

Section Two: Presentations- prep and delivery. For half the sessions this will be independent time in the class or in the library (or the cafe, I don’t really care). They will be doing group presentations and since there is no wiggle room for them getting together, I will provide that time in class. Plus they can then ask me for any input or help. The second half of the sessions will use this time block to, well, present their presentations.

Section Three: Guided activity of some kind (this I’m mapping out in full today). I already have four of these sections done, and they include specific guided questions about the texts due that week, a theoretical approach, a key concept for the study of literature/children’s literature. I have five left to prep and I think I’ll try to find a few good articles for a couple of these. Hand out the article before the break, give them time to read it with their coffee, and then come back and discuss the significance.

Section Four: The carrot and the stick. Or something like that. Each Friday is test time. Three weeks, three tests. The first two are midterms and they’ll have an hour, and the last one is the final and I’ll give them 90 minutes. For what it is worth, this pretty much works out to be how long the final usually lasts in a regular course. It just breaks it up for them (studying) and for me (marking each weekend rather than a huge wack at the end). At this point the plan is to use section four on the non-test-days as a movie time. I think we’ll watch Harry Potter and The Dark Crystal. Or at least watch significant clips of them with time for discussion (I’ll select clips that tie with my discussion that day). Potter is good for the last week as we’re reading The Golden Compass so we can do all the magic stuff. Dark Crystal is good for week two because we’re doing Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH and both have elements of Heroes, Quests, etc.

Now, if I can just get this all mapped out today, finish my sketches of the midterms and final, and firm up my lectures/activities… hopefully by Monday since I start teaching on Tuesday.

Our books are: The Paper Bag Princess, Where the Wild Things Are, Mrs. Frisby, Charlotte’s Web, Anne of Green Gables, and The Golden Compass. The four groups will present on the four novels. I’ll also do lectures on Myths, Fairy Tales, Fables, and Nursery Rhymes.

Class work includes the three exams, presentations, short paper to go with presentation, and 10% for showing up and talking.

Almost sounds like I know what I’m doing, eh?

First the good. Internet is now hooked up to the house! Which, really, is the measure of a true home - yes?  I have another week at home before heading in for the final three weeks of my contract at work, but I’m scrambling. I have to finish my prep this week and keep plugging away at the house. Main floor is one day away from being “good enough” but upstairs is a disaster.  We still don’t have any window coverings, but did a very classy masking tape and table cloth set up in the bedroom windows so we could sleep without the street light shining in quite so brightly on us.

I am sadly lacking in baby stuff, but the weekend before the move (oh man, was that only last weekend?) mom and I hit the big Baby Garage Sale held at the rec centre and she bought up a storm - receiving blankets, some more nightgowns, and a few odds and ends. All were amazingly priced and in awesome condition. In some ways I’m very very set…I have a car seat, a pack and play with bassenette, and a stroller.  I have some diapers, tonnes of clothes, and my own boobs.  He can eat, poop, and sleep.  Our washer/dryer are hooked up and fully tested.

But the baby’s room is currently stacked floor to ceiling with boxes and random moving items (as is the office).  Our room is good, and there is space in there for him to sleep.  The crib is still in the box and there is no mattress yet… later, it will come later.  It will take this month to recover both space and money after move, notary fees, down payment, appliances, hook up fees, random items, life insurance, house insurance, car insurance this month GAH!, mail switch over, and the baby gear we just bought.

But people have had kids with less than this, right?

I’m just thinking, I can have a baby without having a boppy pillow. Many many women have babies without ALL THE GEAR.  I think it is the part where I can’t find all that we have right now.

I’m on a mommy board and “my month” - June Mommies - is full of great supportive women. But I think I’m the only one hoping he STAYS PUT for the next full five weeks!! They are all talking about how ready they are to not be pregnant any longer or to hold their baby in their arms.  On the other hand, each week *I* make a bargain with him where I promise him goods and riches if he sticks in there for another week.  Last night as I sat amongst the boxes I had a horrible thought of him arriving this week and bringing him back in to a home with no usable floor space cleared yet and digging through boxes to find at least one stash of baby clothes.

Honestly, I’m petrified at the thought of a baby right now.  I have strange moments where I hope/wish (?) that I’m not really pregnant because I feel so overwhelmed and not ready.  Given that I didn’t feel this two weeks ago, I’m thinking it is move-related.  But also money related (bah!).  I keep thinking how much better we’d be if I could work this full year and help more towards getting us settled (financially) into the new house with the crazy first year homeowner bills.

But I trust this will pass more and more with each week we get beyond the biggest bills and each box we unpack and settle more stuff into place.

And I know it doesn’t help that I woke up this morning with the mother of all sore throats and a runny nose.  And all I want to do is make some more diapers and curl up on the couch.. I’m even in a tizzy because I haven’t gotten enough diapers done.  I might bite the bullet and order some in the next few weeks to fill in some holes in what I’ve managed to make.  Again, though, this would have to be normal.  If I weren’t feeling like my world was insane that would actually mean there was something wrong with me, right?

Hugs will be gladly collected here.

xxoo