tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-281004292024-02-06T20:06:54.379-08:00Gone CoastalCoastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.comBlogger139125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-18276463300782349382010-08-03T17:48:00.008-07:002010-08-04T23:08:14.777-07:00I know nuh-sinkh!I begin this post while sitting in the Ambulatory Care Building of BC Children's hospital. Apparently, I'm three hours early for my appointment. It's quite possible that it's my error - my mind's not exactly razor sharp these days. I had an appointment for 1:30 with Rheumatology, and I opened some mail a few days back that mentioned an appointmentment at 10:30 with our doc at Biochemical Diseases, but maybe that was the appointment in October. I know the plan was to coordinate visits. Whatever the case, I'm here with Trin, with three extra hours to kill. Thank goodness for the great silly installations they have in the clinic waiting areas, with wheels to turn chains, pulling bouncy balls up elevators to tracks, buckets and ladders, spinning sunflowers and sending cows looping round a moon with his smile on backwards.<br />Oh, yeah. And a TV. Sigh.<br />All of that helps pass the time and keeps Trin busy. But I'm still a parent, back again at Children's, hoping we'll finally get some answers. When our appointment comes, I expect we'll go through a very familiar routine. Weight height and blood pressure, then back to the waiting area. Then rewind/replay the clinical history for the Rheumatology Fellow. Watch Trin walking, do basic strength tests. Then wait for the Fellow to discuss with the attending Rheumatologist and possibly rinse and repeat. Then possibly do it all over again for the Biochem folks.<br />In the last few months again, there've been a few things more evident than before. Whatever <span style="font-style:italic;">it </span>is, it's still subtle, still changing, and not going anywhere.<br /><br />At the end of the appointment, I know nothing new, medically speaking. The new symptoms don't fit the patterns that would indicate a specific condition, and there are no further tests at this point beyond some rather invasive options that we don't wan to proceed with without stronger evidence that we'll actually find something.<br />Discouraging. But one thing I know. With all the varied struggles big and small, it's tough sometimes to find that sparkle in Trin. But when everything comes together and her imagination is sparked, she blossoms bright, like a flower in the desert. <br />In the Nevada deserts around Vegas, I was struck by the beauty of the desert - a place we tend to associate with insufficiency. I was especially struck with the contrasts of the desert surrounds with the intensity and boldness of the blooms there. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuQI6oCnr2m5NUjzoJ8ao11fukHtf7oPi4nV1RKIjL9KUu6nYHLOfPo8F_bgoQNRlm1M51PMaovsxl70PU5vLWGqbb1GWK5ecqUs9uFd-X0AyNUkaEVHXhggbjwjhQy27MZNn6/s1600/Tat.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuQI6oCnr2m5NUjzoJ8ao11fukHtf7oPi4nV1RKIjL9KUu6nYHLOfPo8F_bgoQNRlm1M51PMaovsxl70PU5vLWGqbb1GWK5ecqUs9uFd-X0AyNUkaEVHXhggbjwjhQy27MZNn6/s320/Tat.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501802445535261554" /></a><br />Three weeks ago today, I sat somewhat awkwardly for an hour and a bit and let an artist of a different medium capture that essence in a tattoo, my first, on my back shoulder. A desert cactus in bloom. It was a way of declaring indelibly that I love my daughter dearly, that she is wonderfully made, and that I want to be there for her on the road ahead, wherever it leads.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-12372505713603633532010-05-11T20:47:00.003-07:002010-05-11T21:41:42.414-07:00Can I paint you a picture?Vegas sits in the middle of a low flat valley. To the west, and a little bit north, is Mount Charleston, and a long low finger of a ridge stretches south.<br />It's been windy since I've been here, and I might have mentioned to some of you that it's a bit dry. In fact there's been a bit of a drought, and even the famous fountains are flowing rather with much less flash. In the early evening, there were dark clouds breaking up the blue sky. Someone around here's gonna get some rain, I thought, and that's probably a good thing. I was driving down to the outlet center to find a place to eat.<br />When I came out after supper, the sun was just setting, and most of the sky had cleared again. As I pulled out of the lot and turned west to cross over the freeway, I saw what remained of the earlier menace. <br />Ahead, running the length of that mountain ridge, was a line of rain clouds, still emptying. A thick dark line divided the darkening blue sky. Below it, the virga hung and just brushed the top of the ridge's silhouette, backlit by the last of the sun's rays.<br />I didn't have a camera, and in any case I was driving. For a moment I wished I could snap that shot, capture it, but I wouldn't have done it justice in a frame.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-5902790172998139972010-05-09T21:27:00.002-07:002010-05-09T21:38:07.923-07:00FlashbackBy the time I post this, I'll be in Vegas, but at the moment, I'm at YVR, waiting to board. About an hour ago, I said goodbye to my daughter and planted a kiss on the sleeping head of my son in the back seat of my car, having been driven to the airport by my Mom. It's Mother's day and I'm heading away from my kids for two weeks for training.<br />Most of what followed the goodbyes was pretty standard airport fare. A small lump in the throat and a butterfly or two. Stand in a line, Show some papers. The airline rep gave me the run down of 'the mill' ahead as I said it had been awhile since I'd been to this end of the airport. <br />Haul the bags down a hall. Show some papers. Answer some questions. Check the big bag. Stand in another line. Show the same papers again. Pull stuff out. Take things off. Put stuff away. Put things on. Stand in another line. Have the fast moving line I'm in moved to another queue and s.l.o.w. .r.i.g.h.t. .d.o.w.n. Exchange pleasantries, hand over a paper and walk through another door to the other side.<br />Having plenty of time before boarding, I wandered slowly toward my gate, checking out my options for overpriced food to bring aboard for later. My gate was waaay down at the end, and as I rounded the last bend it hit me exactly how long awhile it had been. About two and a half years since I was flying out of this airport and this very same gate. Trinity was just about 15 months when I was last here, and had been quite resistant to walking on two feet. But right here - or right over there, at that little indoor playset - as I watched with my 4 months worth of Eli belly and all the paraphernalia required for a mom taking her toddler on vacation - Trinity decided that walking was actually worth the effort. She proceeded to walk all over Kauai.<br /><br />I'm now watching a couple of brothers scrambling about on that same playset. The younger is probably under a year, not yet walking, but climbing up the same slightly slippery steps, making his mother visibly nervous. The older is maybe three, somewhere between Trin and Eli now, running circles around, and occasionally over, the younger. <br /><br />A little Mama nostalgia to mark Mother's Day. <br /><br />And who knows, you might just get another post or two out of me while I'm here, wondering how to occupy myself without eager little hands pulling me this way and that. I miss 'em already, but checking in with my mom a little while ago, there sleeping soundly already. Perhaps I'll catch up with them in dreams.<br /><br />Happy Mother's Day, all of you.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-27116278406678359822009-09-20T17:06:00.004-07:002009-09-28T11:46:49.159-07:00Tough questionsThis week we had one of those surreal experiences that you see on prime time drama shows. Swat teams in armoured cars, road blocks, and snipers on roofs.<br />Except it wasn't on TV. It was our block that was closed off with cop cars, the roof of the shed that backs on to our yard that served as a platform for the man in black with the big gun. And it was our next door neighbour - whom we've alternately seen arrange hedges and flowers in his garden, go on random tirades against neighbours and family, and raise a baby crow as a pet - who eventually gave himself up and was taken away.<br /><br />Drama aside, it's left me with a lot of questions. The sort of questions that don't have tidy answers. The sort we often don't want to think about for that reason. But this is not a character wrapped up in a screenplay reality, with a story line that neatly starts and ends within a few days or weeks. I have had a part to play, and a much more personal perspective.<br />I'll admit I've felt some relief, or at least reprieve, with the crow guy gone for awhile, at not having to wonder what state he's in today, or check for his presence outside before letting the dogs out in the yard. I'm also apprehensive about what's coming. We don't know where he was taken or for how long, and will not likely be informed when he's released. There's a good chance he's going to be pretty angry when he comes back, and he has a pattern of being highly suspicious of those around him after an outburst or when authorities have been called.<br />But beyond that, I'm concerned for him. I want to know if he's getting help from competent people wherever he's at. Is there anyone within the system who's been able to gain his trust before? Is there anyone who has contact with his grown sons, one of whom was over and did his best to calm down and reign in his dad during this most recent episode. Do they have support and resources to help their father? As his neighbour, how do I strike a balance between offering a hand of friendship, and ensuring the safety and security of my family, especially my children.<br /><br />I've done a lot of reading on mental health and various mental disorders over the last year while trying to understand my own experiences. I've talked to a number of friends who've struggled with different symptoms and disorders. I happened to just finish reading a book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Soloist-Dream-Unlikely-Friendship-Redemptive/dp/0399155066">The Soloist</a>, that chronicles part of the life of a promising musician who was afflicted with <a href="http://www.schizophrenia.ca/What_Is_Schizophrenia.pdf">schizophrenia</a>. <br />To my knowledge - it was mentioned in passing by our former landlord - it is schizophrenia that has long plagued our neighbour. <br />I'm no psychologist, but in what I've picked up there's a consistent dividing line between psychoses and other mental health issues, where psychoses have some element of disconnect with reality. In my research this past year, I've found commonalities between my experiences and many of the different categories of illness I've looked at. I've recognized that I've been lucky that many of the symptoms I've experienced have been fairly limited, often just enough to trouble me with a taste of what it must be like to deal with similar symptoms in a full blown form. I also count myself fortunate to have stayed on the connected side of that dividing line to psychosis.<br /><br />I was very glad that I happened to be out at a speech therapy session with Trinity for most of this incident, and just happened to pick that week to take a detour to visit a friend after the session, so that when I arrived on our block, Trin was asleep in the car and I only had to wonder for five or ten minutes before they cleared up the operation and I could go home and check in with the Bear, Eli and the nanny. <br />This was not the case with the last major incident with the crow guy. I was pretty much full term with Eli when a minor indiscretion of a friend's young puppy set him off. We were heading for coffee, when the puppy slipped past me out of her car and ran on the other side of our fence, on the crow guy's property, to playfully chase our dogs on our side of the fence. By the time we had retrieved the puppy, who had run a couple of laps front to back down his property, he was standing in the street in front of us, with a roofing hatchet in hand, screaming and threatening us.<br />Even then, we wrestled with whether to press charges because we were concerned first and foremost that he get the help he clearly needed. That obviously added some tension to our neighbourly relationship, and many awkward moments of avoided eye contact. A couple of times when opportunities arose, I tried to extend an olive branch of sorts. Sadly, it seemed to trigger his paranoia. Over the last few months, though, it was my very charming son who seemed to bridge the chasm and soften up the crow guy. A few well timed waves and smiles as the crow guy drove by or sat on his porch, and I no longer felt the need to usher the kids past that first property on walks for fear they'd pull a flower or step over a boundary and set him off. The crow guy even came out to give the kids some leftover bubbles one of his grandkids had left in his trailer.<br /><br />It bothers me immensely that a troubled man has to get to a point of bearing weapons on a street dotted with young families before action is taken, and that it then has to come in the form of forcible removal from his home at gunpoint. This is not a case where there were no previous indications. There are a number of people who have lived on this block for decades, and known this man and his occasional outbursts, but have generally gotten along with him. But over the last few years he has gotten steadily worse. <br />I don't know what should have happened. I don't know how to strike that balance between the rights of the individual to have some say in their own health and lifestyle, the safety and the security of the public at large, and the health and safety of the person whose very mental illness may make it difficult for him to recognize his need for help and accept what is offered. But I feel for our crow guy and his family. I feel the need to at least voice the questions, that perhaps a few more people would pause before pronouncing judgment on 'the crazy down the street.' I hope that I will find ways to let him know, gently, that we understand at least a little, and we hope to meet up again with that personable guy in the garden.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-51781388026919584602009-08-08T22:23:00.004-07:002010-01-16T09:23:01.975-08:00Like peas in a pod?There's absolutely no mistaking the physical resemblance between my two offspring. Blue eyes, blonde hair, a certain twinkle in their eyes. When I look at baby pictures of them at the same ages, they look very much alike. <br />My sister and I, too, look very much alike in pictures. But we're two very different people. In my first year of university, my sister was studying at the same school, and if I found myself near one of the buildings she spent most of her time around, I'd sometimes get a nod or a wave from someone I'd never met before. I'd wave back and carry on, with a bit of a smile to myself 'cause I knew I'd just been taken for my sister by someone who clearly (in my mind, anyway) didn't know her very well.<br /><br />Well, Trin's <strike>a month shy of her third birthday</strike> coming up on three and ahalf, and Eli's <strike>a couple of months past his first</strike> almost 20 months, but they are already very different creatures. <br />Trin has always been rather tentative in her approach to new skills. She seems to want to be sure she can do it right before she begins. When she was learning to walk, she took those first steps beyond the 'step-dive' maneouvre at 12 months, taking 3, 5 and 7 steps in the space of an hour. Then she went back to crawling and cruising till 15 months, in the airport on the way to Hawaii, at which point she took off and never looked back.<br />Eli is very much a jump in with both feet kinda guy. He's always pushing the limits of what he can do. He started walking on his own by about 11 months, and as soon as he figured that out, he seemed to switch gears to focus on trying to talk. He's quick - quick to learn and quick to move. A couple of months ago, I went to the mall with the kids to get my cell phone sorted out. I let go of his hand for maybe 30 seconds in the store while I fished stuff out for the clerk. Did the semiautomatic headcount scan and he was gone. A family friend happened to be in the mall and bumped into him (almost literally from what I hear) at the other end of the mall within a few minutes. (and yes, I scoured Zeller's for a harness for him before leaving the mall that same day).<br />Trin has always been pretty content and complacent. When she started daycare it took her some time (probably upwards of half a year) to learn that she didn't have to let all the other kids walk away with her toys. Eli has always known exactly what he wants and been good at making it known. And that, of course, has been a major motivator for stretching those skills boundaries: "How do I get to that, and if I can't get there myself, how can I get someone else to get it for me?"<br /><br />In an odd way, though, these differences are starting to make them more alike. Trin has had some significant developmental delays in a number of areas, due to some underlying strength and stamina issues that we're still working to diagnose. With Eli being rather ahead of the curve, they wind up pretty close to the same point. Eli's already got better coordination, strength and stamina than his big sister, though he's lacking some finesse in the fine motor areas yet. And there are days where he's as understandable as Trin, though what he says may be simpler in form.<br /><br />They learn from each other, adapt to each other, and look out for each other. And I can see them becoming a really neat pair as they grow. Not so much peas in a pod, more like strawberry and rhubarb. Different but quite complimentary.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-41099974281750419712009-07-27T22:20:00.005-07:002009-07-28T08:44:24.429-07:00A momentary change of paceLife with two young kids keeps you going. It's downright crazy at times. Probably no more so here than in other homes with two (or more) pairs of little feet trotting ever in different directions, but I don't have to trump anyone with epic tales for you to understand why my writing has been far from prolific. <br />So, now. How does it happen that I find just a little bit of time to post again tonight? Well, my two pairs of little feet are marking paths around Port Moody with their Mor Mor for a few days.<br />I've been very much looking forward to this, a few days with my hands free to make some progress on the list. And time to spend with some girlfriends who were visiting. Indeed, we did some marathon shopping (apparently, I'm an enabler for shopaholics), and hosted a little party Saturday, and Sunday I did roll the carpet of weeds back a little further in the yard, puttered a bit with some new art materials and slept more than I thought I could on the couch in the middle of the day.<br />But I found something was definitely missing. I've been dragging myself along, feeling rather low. I've done alright with taking advantage of the freedom, but even the fun stuff like art puttering didn't give much satisfaction. <br />It took me some time to put my finger on it, and when I did, it was an oddly pleasant surprise. I was missing the kids. Not just in a 'miss their smiling faces' way, a sentimental something you could neatly frame and put up on the dresser. No, with all that I struggle with, and all the ways it's so closely tied to the kids, as hard as it is sometimes just to spend a day with them and still keep myself together, nothing else in my life fulfills me like sharing life with them. Finding ways to connect with Trin when her words won't come. Watching the wonder in Eli's eyes as he discovers the world around him, and leaving him room to conquer a bit more of it, safely. And stretching out those chance moments I get with each of them alone, one on one. <br />In an odd way, the struggle seems to be part of the satisfaction, not only of parenting, but of all the other things that don't get done as well or as often when you're raising little kids.<br /><br />I'm wrapping this post up in the morning, before I dig into my work day. With my current mental state, I struggle at the best of times to stay focused and on track with my work, If I'm working from home, as I sometimes do, I can pretty much guarantee a few 'MUMMEE!!' interruptions, and I'll chat with Trin or look at whatever she's brought to show me and then shepherd her back out to the living room, or occupy Eli while Sheryll draws Trin in to put on her socks and shoes for a walk. <br />Today, I'm working from home again, saving the commute time knowing that there'll be no-one bursting in on me, no backdrop of toddler chaos and drama. But I know where my head will be, too. It's already there at the ferry terminal, waiting to scoop up my babies and get back to the crazy daze of parenting.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-1557808477987043412009-06-11T09:32:00.002-07:002009-06-11T10:32:51.458-07:00Happy Birthday to me!Well, it's not actually my birthday, yet, but I did give myself an early present. Yesterday I went into the hospital to get my tubes tied. Or fried, to be slightly more accurate. And so here I am, taking a couple of days off at home, with time to actually post to my much neglected blog.<br />We made this decision a long time ago, shortly after we found out we were pregnant with Eli, in fact. I talked to my GP almost as soon as the three month minimum post partum wait was up, only to find I'd be waiting quite a bit longer. Sometime in early March I got a call, for an initial consultation late April, and an average of six weeks or so after that for surgery. <br />Which all amounts to another ten months to consider the choice. I've thought about it a lot, and it makes each of those milestones that are passing all to quickly with Eli a bit more precious, but I don't think I've ever really come close to changing my mind. It would have been a harder choice if I were maybe ten or fifteen years younger, with that many more potential childbearing years to cut off. But I'll be thirty-seven in a couple of weeks, and unless I had another in very short order, I'd likely be done anyway.<br />Probably the biggest factor for me, though, has been the struggle with mental health issues. Eli's a year old now, and at some point things cease to fit into a neat postpartum package. They simple become a part of ongoing life. As with any other health issue, you seek out ways to manage the disease, and work to maintain a balance in your life, always juggling a bit as things shift. I can no longer do my job the way I used to, and have to keep that in mind as assignments change. The children grow and develop and different issues come up that require different strategies, and take different tolls. And you reevaluate and adapt.<br />I do look back on the last few years, though, especially as I have a few longer stretches of clarity, and am a bit saddened to see signs of the impact this has had on my kids. The times I've not been able to be fully present with Trin, when I've simply been doing what I know I ought to, working up a smile and a kiss, but not fully there. I can't help but think this has been a factor in her developmental delays, and in the insecurity that shows itself now and then. It's far from the only factor, her sickness last year was a big part of it I'm sure, and it's not a guilt I feel, just a regret that this was how it had to be, and that in some cases I didn't have the energy to advocate and intervene sooner on some fronts. Eli's doing great developmentally - in fact I wouldn't mind at all if he slowed down a bit. But I'm disappointed, to put it a bit mildly, that I've missed out so much on really enjoying that first year - being fully in love with my babies. I've had a few of those really good days lately, and they're wonderful, but it kinda hits home about how much I've lost.<br />So, to think there won't be any more first smiles, first giggles, first hugs, first words or first steps makes me feel a little nostalgic. But I love the two blessed, beautiful babes I've got, and I want to take care of myself so that I can be more to them. And for me, that means taking no further chances with aggravating mood and anxiety disorders with another child. As time goes by, I hope and pray and expect things will continue to get better, the good stretches brighter and maybe longer, the dark spaces more manageable. We can't go back but in the days ahead I'll be able to make up for some of what we've missed. I pray, too, that my children will learn from my struggle, to become resilient to depression and anxiety themselves, and to grow up to be empathetic to those in their lives who struggle like this.<br /><br />Of course, no post on this topic would be complete without some reference to the joyous return of spontaneity, freedom and stress reduction to our sex life. No more hormones messing me up, no more double backup to be extra sure (we don't trust much to be fully safe after the IUD :). Which could all make for a great birthday party! And one less thing to stress over in life, and a little more access to a great outlet for the other tensions, is good for all of us!Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-30091676707268773702009-03-20T22:05:00.000-07:002009-03-20T22:06:02.827-07:00Life is goodSometimes it's hard, and now is certainly one of those times, but it's good.<br /><br />I was talking with a friend sometime last <s>week</s> month, and an offhand comment stuck with me. I'm not even sure what we were talking about before. "You think your life sucks? You should try walking in my shoes." Now, we didn't go any further with that thread, so I don't know what trials were wearing on her at that point, and obviously it wouldn't be for me to share here if I did. I expect it was an overflow of frustration with any number of things piling up on her horizon. I do know very well that any trip down her path would be far from a vacation. I know I couldn't do what she does, and I don't know how she does and handles everything else as well as she does.<br />But the reason the comment stuck with me actually has nothing to do with her. In the back of my mind, it bothered me that, doubtless due to all the talk of my various struggles, I'd given someone the impression that I thought my life sucked. I like my life. And you should know that if I didn't feel that with some certainty, it would be a lot harder than it is.<br /><blockquote>A little disclaimer here. The rest of this post could get a little graphic, a little scary perhaps. If you're the sensitive type, or you're just feeling a little vulnerable now, you might want to skip this and come back another time.<br />That said, I choose to share this because one of the hardest things about going through depression and mental health issues of any sort is feeling like you're the only one who's ever felt this way or experienced this. I know of at least a few people who are currently struggling with something similar, more who've been there before and perhaps there are others among my readers who are still silent. And perhaps there are some out there who will stumble on this little corner of blunt reality and feel a little less alone.</blockquote><br />One of the ways depression manifests itself for me is intrusive thoughts. Ugly thoughts about things I might do or that might happen. I've learned, though, that there's a huge difference between the thought that just crosses my mind and the one that sets up camp. If, say, the thought of shooting myself in the head fluttered past in a moment of high stress, I'd let it go and pay it no mind. <br />On the other hand, if it started doing laps, passing by somewhat predictably, I'd need to pay some attention to what was happening, lest it just sidle up on beside me like a shadow. <br /><br />This is where things get a little hazy. I started this post well over a month ago and so much has happened - little day to day things that keep me busy as well as grander things pondered, learned or revealed. It's hard to remember exactly where I was at and where I was going when I left off writing this post. As such, it won't be quite as potent as it would have been had I managed to finish it much sooner. The sharper edges grow dull with distance.<br />But if I look at what I'd written, I remember one key point quite clearly. The marked contrast between those dark thoughts that sometimes fill my mind, and what I really believe and value. When things are most off balance, when the storms in my head are raging, it's difficult to see anything else. I seek desperately for any way out of the chaos, and that's where the dark thoughts come in. The urges for anything other than the chaos. Nothing makes much sense, especially from the outside looking back, but in the midst of it somehow it seems that slamming my head against a door frame would be a useful tactic for dealing with it. As obviously irrational as that is, it is amazingly difficult in that state to fight those urges and follow reason.<br />That's where I was when I realized I needed more than a little moral support or a day off. When I knew I had to talk to my doctor and take some concrete steps. I had given in to those urges on a couple of occasions. Feeling totally out of control, even over myself, I had ducked around the corner from whatever room the kids were in and let loose. The result? Add a horrendous feeling of guilt and despair at what I'd done to the mix. And a good sized tender spot on the side of my head. Then came the day when I didn't leave. I didn't have even so much control left as to spare my kids that sight.<br /><br />When I'd come through the initial challenge of finding the right meds, I remember I described the effect of the meds as keeping a lid on things. Keeping the thoughts and anxieties from boiling over. Leaving enough room in the cauldron for reality to remain on top, and just let the steam out slowly.<br />In the calmer times, I'm able to go through those alien thoughts and think about what I really do believe. In the last couple of months, there've been a few longer stretches of calm, and I can see things a little clearer, bit by bit. When that door frame taunts me lately, I've been able to recognize not only that it's not what I want, but that I'm really longing for a place to rest my head. I can change the picture.<br />After I started this post, I was bathing the kids one night, and peeling again at the plastic liner that didn't come off the tub before we started using it. We were trying to protect the new tub while various construction stuff continued, but the end result is that it's no longer going to peel off nicely. So every time we have a bath, I peel at the edges of the film. The film is now pretty grungy and a little grey, so as I peel back more and more the clear surface is revealed. That's kind of what it feels like to be coming out of this. Very slowly. <br />As dark as things sometimes get, even when I'm desperate for anything that feels like control, even an end to life, I've always known that my life is good. It's hard, in more than a few ways, but it's good. I have two beautiful children. I have a marriage that, while bumpy, has been a blessing through 12 years and is worth fighting for. I've been blessed with good friends who encourage and inspire me. There've been cracks of light from unexpected sources. I've been blessed with gifts and abilities and great opportunities to use them. And above all I know there is a purpose for my life.<br />Knowing all this gives me strength in the storms. And the means to capture those dark thoughts and turn them back. And that's about as far from a life that sucks as I can imagine.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-87984836443222348792009-03-10T21:58:00.005-07:002009-03-10T22:09:35.634-07:00Language learning made easy, if not exactly accurateOk, so I haven't posted anything in a long while. There are posts in the works, but not the sort I can rattle off in my spare moments. But this, this just begs to be shared. Soon. And widely.<br /><br />Caught this on a banner ad just a little while ago. I was so glad it was one that cycles through a loop so I could catch a screen shot. This speaks volumes for the quality of language training available, don't ya think?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1QKqN6KrRI0sZ82iR6Yz5hELJmtqKVteD2AF1uYzJkmUBMs5norDEE17ib9Ujb1F90nliIPjd9VcE2xjlb5r71mjtMJ1JeJo_yPALV9wiRHyVF9ajreHwnqZvb7WX5p6UUJTR/s1600-h/FERNCH!.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 41px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1QKqN6KrRI0sZ82iR6Yz5hELJmtqKVteD2AF1uYzJkmUBMs5norDEE17ib9Ujb1F90nliIPjd9VcE2xjlb5r71mjtMJ1JeJo_yPALV9wiRHyVF9ajreHwnqZvb7WX5p6UUJTR/s320/FERNCH!.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311791182002102146" /></a><br /><br />Somewhere, right about now, a designer is polishing up her resume.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-20741164347009152312009-01-26T07:59:00.003-08:002009-01-26T10:05:48.564-08:00around the next bendI should really learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes. In a previous post, I took you all on a ride with a roller coaster metaphor. I talked about what might come next, around that next bend. I left the door wide open with "something crazy and unexpected."<br />I definitely didn't expect what came Saturday morning. The Bear was working for the morning, and I was wandering through a typical morning with the kids, with wake ups, changes and food. Weighing out the options for what to do with the day, store run, library or pool. At some point, I recognized a slight feeling of uneasiness, not entirely unfamiliar on days when I know I've got the kids for the full day. Generally, this feeling translates to a little less patience with any testing by the kids, but the kids were pretty content.<br />But, that morning, the uneasiness took on a life of its own. I felt it building up, and I decided it would be a good time to take the kids and dogs for a walk. But long before it got there, it escalated to something I've never experienced. An anxiety attack. Crazy and unexpected. I didn't know what was happening or how far this might go. I was terrified that I couldn't do anything for the kids if they needed me. It was everything I could do to keep breathing. I called my two childcare options, but nobody answered. I called the Bear to let him know. And with much struggle, I got the kids haphazardly bundled into the stroller and we were out of the house. <br />The attack, which lasted probably 45 minutes, had started to subside a bit by the time I got out the door, and tapered off as I pushed around the block a few times, checking known neighbours' windows for signs of someone who'd be up and able to help. When I got back, I tried my daycare backup again, and she was home, so I went there with the kids, stayed for awhile until the Bear was home, and then left the kids with her for most of the day.<br />In talking with a few people, I've learned that mine was probably only a moderate attack, but it was quite terrifying enough. Seriously, it ranked up there with being screamed at by the angry schizophrenic with a roofing hatchet in hand. <br /><br />When I came home Saturday, one of my urges was to blog it all, raw and real, as soon as possible, as it was such a strange, but internal, experience that I was afraid that if I didn't put it out there it would fade and I would be questioning if it really happened. I wasn't too far off, as within a few hours, my recollection was vague and fuzzy. But it did happen. And I'm looking into what I can do to reduce the odds of it happening again, as well as preparing myself to better deal with it if and when it does.<br />The kids are sick, and home with me again today, but I know if anything should come up today, daycare is just down the street. Writing about this has made me a little jumpy, but I needed to do it. I'm going to sign off now, and have some juice and a few deep breaths before I check on the kids again.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-86667397877206379452009-01-23T19:02:00.003-08:002009-01-23T22:58:24.428-08:00TidbitsTrin has started a bandaid collection. It began earlier in the week. She came home from daycare with a scrape on the inside of her finger. Nothing too nasty, but just because of where it was, and some missing skin, it needed covering. So a little bandaid, a little ointment. She did make it a bit of a conversation piece, but she didn't pull it off. <br />Today, we were walking home from daycare. We were a little late heading out, as Eli had skipped his morning nap and was still sleeping when I came. Trin, too, had resisted a nap, so she was tired, though surprisingly not taking on the usual sleepless toddler demeanour. One thing is always consistent, though, when Trin is tired. She gets clumsy. (Or clumsier - she's got a ways to go before they invite her to the national ballet.) Sure enough, about halfway home, she tripped on the sidewalk and took a tumble. She's a tough girl, but I knew she was tired and likely to trip again, so I picked her up and carried her the last bit.<br />Back at home, we carried on. A little later, she tried to tell me something. I didn't quite understand, but I knew it was about something upstairs. She often goes upstairs to get one of her dolls, or put them to bed, or..., so I figured it would be something related. I let her start on her way up and followed a few minutes later to see what was up.<br />At the top of the steps, Trin was fishing through the boxes of bandaids. As I came up the steps, I figured out the word I couldn't place before. Bandaid sounds a lot like baby (doll) and a few other common phrases in Trinese. I helped her get her tights off, and she showed me a good little scrape on her left knee. We picked out a suitable bandaid and sealed her up. Then she pointed to the smaller scrape on her right knee. "Ouch!" Another bandaid. She fished a bit for a final strip to cover the little scratch under the main scrape, but I persuaded her she could handle that one without. I realized our stash of bandaids - at least the kinds that actually stick on toddlers - is getting low, and I'll have to stock up. Hopefully she doesn't become a major addict :)<br /><br />One of my favourite shirts on Eli is a button up plaid shirt, lined with a light cotton knit. It's a handsome little big boy shirt, size 18 months. It's from the Gap, which is pretty generous in their sizes. It just fits him now, though you probably couldn't do up the top button easily, if at all. I picked up a few shirts at my favourite consignment store earlier this month, all size 24 months. They fit him pretty well. He's not even eight months old! I had to abandon a number of his non-buttoned shirts recently because I couldn't get his arms into the holes without dislocating his shoulders. Apparently they don't design baby clothes for linebackers.<br /><br />For those of you who follow my erratic facebook statuses, my prediction came true. Eli crawled for the first time last night. Not far - inches really - but with bum up, arms and legs going and resulting in forward motion. Apparently today he spent much of his day working on pulling up. That seems to be why he was too busy for a morning nap. Important work to do. "I crawled six inches yesterday, now it's time to walk."<br /><br />Trin is apparently taking the two-year-old thing to the next level, and the sassy sparkle that's lit her eyes when she's given me the gears in the past has begun to twinkle for Shannon, too. I'm told the other day she had a time out at daycare, and when Shannon was having a talk with her, Trin rolled her tongue around in her cheek and did her best to obviously ignore her. Getting saucy that one, I'll have to keep my eye on her.<br /><br />Eli can get himself down on his belly and back up to sitting. He still enjoys trying to launch himself into orbit in the exersaucer, if only for much shorter periods. I'm told he learned to clap today, too. Music was on, all the little ones were singing and clapping, Eli was enjoying the scene, and doing the usual baby misfires to participate. Until his two hands made contact the first time, and apparently that was all he needed and he clapped away for a bit.<br />Sometimes he kinda scares me with how fast he grows.<br /><br />Trin seems very much into her ABCs these days, rounding up the little foam letters that have been dispersed from the bathtub collection. I think she's kind of intrigued with the concept of these symbols, and wants to remember which ones are which. She's got two versions of Dr. Seuss's ABCs, but that's fodder for a whole different post.<br /><br />Lately Eli quite loves jerking his head forward like an eighties punker. He's only beaned himself once, so far, on a smooth flat floor. I'm hoping it will be a short lived habit, and that it won't take a trip to emerg to cure him of it.<br />He'll feed himself cheerios and raisins, and munches them up quite well with all those front teeth.<br /><br />And what post of random wee one snippets would be complete without a few current pics. Made a point of snapping off a few earlier tonight to have something for you. I hope to be together enough one of these mornings to bring the camera along to Shanni's and have her take some shots for me. You know, so I'm not the one always behind the camera. Evidence that I actually do spend time with my own kids. If it happens, I'll be sure to post some of the favourites. In the meantime here's some quick shots.<br /><br />Trin after bumping her knees yet again. See my owies?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicfeVEOB17aZQ_PC9qc6dHK_hX-mYywouCJr58c8ASQxtYy-l5LaCDRTmnBKjBq-F_xpmQKd49bAcHXx74kDnGWoWLQK4j58hukkU-_c4eBWcwWzcqYLSBSuj9eaHzKOJ22dXV/s1600-h/booboo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicfeVEOB17aZQ_PC9qc6dHK_hX-mYywouCJr58c8ASQxtYy-l5LaCDRTmnBKjBq-F_xpmQKd49bAcHXx74kDnGWoWLQK4j58hukkU-_c4eBWcwWzcqYLSBSuj9eaHzKOJ22dXV/s320/booboo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294749721844894706" /></a><br />Trin a little later, having bounced back like a good little viking<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvP0fcey2P749OAKv235y8w401XLwJ4Ypba577OhyGkblkAtBfnzqYA0kkBdf0l2TsNEfd1f6LWDmklFmlCuTod3vF1Boibgppsaot_9qHpCSButTJ2bpOlCGbFnCItUEr9xha/s1600-h/running.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 189px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvP0fcey2P749OAKv235y8w401XLwJ4Ypba577OhyGkblkAtBfnzqYA0kkBdf0l2TsNEfd1f6LWDmklFmlCuTod3vF1Boibgppsaot_9qHpCSButTJ2bpOlCGbFnCItUEr9xha/s320/running.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294749718790328658" /></a><br />Check out the teeth<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfJbuiakIayjY5oDoYo4Q9pyoXopxfUvP4Fh1rpEu_HNdLFf8U6r8ClxT-NvbrAtOafMf-h5vwvzjgcm1ICDRTY7ZjRgwnH-uhqV452TP3MorHEMcOpa4DCTiDI6DsQ7N_2O5/s1600-h/myteeth.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 260px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfJbuiakIayjY5oDoYo4Q9pyoXopxfUvP4Fh1rpEu_HNdLFf8U6r8ClxT-NvbrAtOafMf-h5vwvzjgcm1ICDRTY7ZjRgwnH-uhqV452TP3MorHEMcOpa4DCTiDI6DsQ7N_2O5/s320/myteeth.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294749714629851218" /></a><br />and the shoulders<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgukluvGFnAQ5CQHaRYj1BzYLEPC6F9efFFoFNRmMoLrViO2AqkVryzWvQnuK7wdO0ZCjKgq1KifDelV0FvQupyZZ4bdJpgEHjR_UNKXj2KQd_Qw5QFXZCB1_AFyI3G1WoisS_q/s1600-h/linebacker.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 279px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgukluvGFnAQ5CQHaRYj1BzYLEPC6F9efFFoFNRmMoLrViO2AqkVryzWvQnuK7wdO0ZCjKgq1KifDelV0FvQupyZZ4bdJpgEHjR_UNKXj2KQd_Qw5QFXZCB1_AFyI3G1WoisS_q/s320/linebacker.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294749714895031554" /></a><br />With a month or so's less hair, Eli in one of my favourite vests, posing in his chair<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrOl4RHwTFfaW79MzYdNqAqyBFaSYpx5ZL98QkFsJgk8-og3n6AVhw7OgT9hxcI2c7u0pcr7ktdVRYKxj3IunK85UPMlCwLRfESzg93IWGNk2S9WwGm-H12mT-SdQ11HEfeomT/s1600-h/handsome.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrOl4RHwTFfaW79MzYdNqAqyBFaSYpx5ZL98QkFsJgk8-og3n6AVhw7OgT9hxcI2c7u0pcr7ktdVRYKxj3IunK85UPMlCwLRfESzg93IWGNk2S9WwGm-H12mT-SdQ11HEfeomT/s320/handsome.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294749715218277330" /></a>Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-14066178167081159952009-01-19T17:54:00.003-08:002009-01-19T21:45:19.402-08:00ProgressI had a couple of posts rattling around in my head that had absolutely nothing to do with postpartum disorders. A change of pace. Probably much needed, as I read through my last two posts earlier today, and they were basically both rambling on over the same stuff. Good evidence that I have indeed been kinda hazy.<br />But here I am again, my thoughts dominated by how PPD has affected me, and where I'm at in this journey. Those other posts will wait (how many months have they been on the far back burner already?)<br />The weekend was interesting. Not theoretical lecture on social engineering interesting, or what so-and-so said to such-and-such interesting. I mean roller coaster interesting. <br />It seems the fog lifted a little this weekend. I found myself feeling things much more than I have in a long while. Laughing at my seven-month-old son giggling at discovering his sense of balance on his feet. Catching little games my two-year-old plays. I even felt more for my dogs.<br />My dogs. My poor dogs. Before kids, I was the dog lady. In K-town we had a big fenced yard. They got walked at least once a day, played with, run on the bike, taken to work, taken 4X4ing up to the hills. They went where we went. My mom even affectionately called them her four-legged grandchildren. The last few months, they've been lucky to get a decent walk a week. And with the issues we have with one neighbour, we can't even leave them in our much smaller yard for any length of time to play. I did my best to look after them, but it was rather mechanical. I see that pretty clearly now. But Friday night, it wasn't Eli that got me up, it was Diesel. His ear was infected and driving him nuts, and his headshaking, with corresponding collar jingling and ear flapping, was driving us nuts. I dug around the basement for the ear cleansing solution and did what I could to clean him up. Oh, he was so happy. And even at four in the morning, it felt kinda good to make him happy, and not feel like I was doing everything I could to give them a totally inadequate life. They've had a few more spontaneous head rubs since, too.<br />It was a similar sort of awakening with the kids. A subtle shift, or maybe not so subtle, from doing what I thought I was supposed to do, or what I should enjoy, to what felt right. Not a complete turnaround, but I was definitely more alive.<br />The slightly frightening other side to this bed I woke up in held the feelings of fear, of hurt, despair and, most frightening to me, anger. They, too, had been muffled, distant and a bit detached, like a dream. They, too, were a little more real now. Hence the roller coaster, and the certainty that I'm not coming off the meds anytime soon, nor would I be remotely ready to be with the kids full time.<br />I don't know what lies around the bend. If there's another climb to the next big drop, or loops or spins or something crazy and unexpected. I'm hardly a coaster aficionado, but in the classic coasters of my youth, the biggest falls were at the start, and after doing their best to scare the pants off you, they slowly back off the throttle to smaller hills and bumps. A few surprises late in the ride to keep you guessing 'til you're back in the gate. Maybe I'm past the biggest drops. Maybe there's lots to come. Maybe it's just the three or four days of solid sunshine that's behind this little lift - the lull between turns where you get a look at some scenery.<br />Whatever it is, I'll take it. I've had a taste of the joy of motherhood again. I've started to enjoy music again. (I realized at some point that I had hardly sung at all for Eli, whereas after Trin's birth I'd sung more than I had in years, even some days through tears. I remember wanting to sing for Eli, but I couldn't find my voice - I couldn't think of anything, even silly songs, that would come out. This really hit home at a church Christmas dinner. It was a good night, and when someone led in some carols, I was singing along with Eli on my arm, and looked down to see wonder in his little eyes. He'd never in six months heard me really sing.)<br />And if it's God's grace in timing, giving me a little clarity in my head when I'll need it for work, I'll definitely take it. I know that He's there, too, when reality is frightening. And that His amazing grace knows no end.<br /><br />Maybe, just maybe, by the next post I'll have gotten the camera out and taken some fresh pics for you all.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-73642585202862111722009-01-14T22:29:00.002-08:002009-01-14T23:17:00.138-08:00Good nightWell, once again, I really ought to be heading to bed. I've got meetings tomorrow, including an intro to a new project I'll be joining. I should be heading for bed as early as I can.<br />But I'm feeling pretty good tonight, and that's a good reason to share.<br /><br />The last week or so has been kinda hazy. I'm not much liking being back at work. I've only had about a half load of project work, and I still struggle to put in a full day's work. A couple of days have been near total write-offs: I just couldn't get my head into the game, let alone keep it focused there. Fortunately, with the new year I have some vacation time again that I can throw to those days.<br />The Bear is full swing into his new job, working lots of overtime, evenings and weekends, so we're both pretty tired.<br />Last week when I took Eli in for his shots, the nurse gave me the postpartum screening questionnaire again, and I got a score of 14 - high enough to get her attention. I wasn't exactly surprised, but it was still a bit of a wake up call. I expect within a week, I'll have full time demands at work with the new project. I needed to be realistic about where I was at. I've been feeling the tension building, and I've definitely been more down. And more sensitive to little things.<br />Little things like a growing sense that my toddler doesn't always like me so much. Honestly, at a bad moment, the words in my head are a little stronger than that, but it's a good moment. That whole mother daughter dynamic is heating up so early. I see it when her whole demeanor shifts from testing and defying me at home, to smiling and charming everyone at daycare. And back again at day's end.<br />Today didn't start off any different. But somewhere over the course of the evening, the surface grit began to soften. She didn't argue when i asked if she needed to go pee, and came and got me when she eventually needed the bathroom. (A little late, but she's been doing awesome at daycare, so it felt good just to rate the effort.) But I think it was really a little string of precious mama moments, just for me, that warmed me up. Going up the stairs to help her retrieve her baby (doll) from the new doll bed she got and finding her baby 'tucked in' under the mattress. Helping her wrap the baby up when it was time for bed. Being able to offer her a bowl of fruit for dessert after putting Eli to bed, no strings or agenda, because she quite happily ate a very good portion of her supper. Catching one of her little sentences and watching the look of relief and excitement when she hears that I understood what she said. <br />So, I've got a smile on my face. And with a lot of stuff on my mind, and some pretty scary trials in the lives of some close friends this week, that's refreshing. I know that with the increasing workload coming down the pipeline, and what I've seen and felt in myself lately, I'm vulnerable. This week I decided to try and work my schedule to leave time to make it to a postpartum support group. I called up the health unit to get the details and register. I've put it in my work calendar for the next five weeks, and we'll see how it goes. <br />Meanwhile, I should sleep well tonight, so long as Eli doesn't start working on tooth number seven tonight. Sweet dreams.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-74104524810717851722009-01-09T22:18:00.004-08:002009-01-26T10:12:23.800-08:00needing to writeI'm almost overwhelmed with the need to write tonight. Oh, I often want to write, long to even. Mostly I take moments to wish I had more time to sit down and enjoy the process of writing. Right now, I should probably be curled up in bed, asleep. In fact, I am in bed. I'd already shut down my laptop downstairs, dutifully checking to see what needs - <span style="font-style:italic;">really </span>needs - doing tonight. Thinking I should take advantage of the Friday night status that means I don't need to have things lined up for the kids in the morning. Thinking I should get to bed early.<br /><br />But it's been so long since I talked to you all. The kids are growing and changing so fast. Life's progressing, up and down and in and out. And some things go on day after day. <br />I think, no, I know, that there's one thing that's fired up the need to write in me tonight. I stumbled across a blog the other day while looking up postpartum screening to try and find out what my 'score' meant. <a href="http://postpartumprogress.typepad.com">Postpartum Progress</a> is written by a woman who suffered from postpartum obsessive compulsive disorder, and who has since become a major advocate around perinatal mood and anxiety disorders. I went back there tonight for a closer look. I am so glad I did, and I'll be visiting again. I read only a few brief posts, but I felt tears welling up, and just beginning to spill over. That in itself was actually a good thing. If I'm honest with myself, so much of my energy some days goes into just getting on with what needs doing, and the emotions get kinda buried. Sometimes I've taken the moment and needed to cry, but just couldn't.<br />I would <span style="font-weight:bold;">highly </span>recommend this site to anyone who is dealing with similar struggles, or knows someone who is, or just wants to understand it more. For that matter, even if you just want an example of a brilliant resource blog, check it out.<br /><br />So, now that I'm writing anyways, here are a few random updates before I call it a night.<br />Eli is healthy. And growing in so many ways. I took him for his six month shots (yes, he's now seven months, but it's been a little crazy, eh?) on Tuesday. That was also the first time he was weighed since Hallowe'en. He's just shy of a very solid 10 kilos or 22 pounds. That's a gain of 1.6 kg or over three and a half pounds. And at that, he's not super round. He's just big. He's got broad shoulders, if you can believe that in a baby. He's outgrowing things because I can't get both arms in without contorting him horribly. At this point anything I buy is 18 month or more. He's starting to take over Trin's shirts (nothing too girly, guys) almost as fast as she outgrows them. She's 4 times his age, and she's not exactly tiny either! I expect it won't be more than a year or so before he's giving her his hand me downs ;)<br />Trin's becoming more outgoing these days. As Shannon put it, seeing her this week after two weeks off, her personality is flowering. And I think she's finally over being ticked off at me for having another baby. She never took it out on her little bro, thankfully, but she was definitely unhappy with me about it. I suspect she's still a little unhappy, but now it's more because I don't have the time and energy to be much fun most of the time. Which makes me a little sad of course. But the kids get along. Sometimes, I'm quite sure they're conspiring, or at least sharing some great inside jokes. I'll be halfway down the stairs with one on each hip and they'll start giggling hysterically at each other. Eli's got such an adorable giggle, too.<br />I've been back at work for a couple of months now. Thankfully, I haven't had a full assignment load, and working from home, it's allowed me to keep a bit more balance. I'm wary, though, as that period of grace may well be coming to an end next week. There's a full time position on another project that I'm being lined up for, with some preliminary work starting right away. It'll be lots of God's grace that'll get me through, then. And I'll need to be pretty assertive at setting expectations up front as far as how much (or little) I can work and when.<br />Vince has been at his new job for a little over a month now, and is racking up the overtime, which will definitely be helpful in starting to fill in the financial hole we dug ourselves into over the last year or so.<br />More stats and tidbits. Trin's well on the road to ditching the diaper habit. She's been telling Shannon when she needs to poop (another sort of flowering) at daycare, and I'll be dressing her in her much loved big girl underpants when she's home with me. Eli's got five teeth now, and I'm pretty sure he's working on more again. He can stand holding on to furniture. He can also pull furniture down, like the kitchen chairs and the jolly jumper stand. He's gone from being a 'hold me all day' mama's boy to a 'put me down already' adventurer in the last few weeks. And like his big sister, he's a sweetheart almost all the time, always at daycare, and saves his best tantrums for mama at the end of the day.<br />I bought a bunch of material at a holiday sale at Fabricland, all cotton stuff for my sensitive skinned boy. Even bought a pattern. With luck I'll get to sewing it for my grand kids. Hmm... maybe I can wrangle Mor-mor into sewing for me....<br /><br />I know there's more in the corners of my mind, but what's left is wedged in tight for the moment, and I'm all out of ramble. So, for all you hangers on that still check in (or have me on your feeds) thanks for sticking with me, hope this was worth the wait and will satisfy you for what may be another long while.<br />Good night.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-32280624507028886442008-12-13T12:08:00.000-08:002008-12-13T12:08:35.987-08:00What's in a nameThis clearly falls in that broad category of posts that have been in the queue for awhile. In fact, it's been brewing since before we named names not quite five months ago. We thought a lot about what to call our second child, our son, even deliberating a bit after he arrived. In the end we gave him three names. Eliakim Hunter Leonidas. Quite a mouthful I'll concede, but I'd like to share a bit of where they came from.<br /><br />A little out of order, I'll take the second name first, 'cause it's simple. If Trin had been a boy, she would have been Caleb Hunter. Caleb was my choice, Hunter the Bear's, but I liked it. Strong. Somehow the second baby never felt like a Caleb, but we kept Hunter.<br /><br />Back to his first name, regular readers may recall some broad hints when I made the initial announcement that our second pregnancy was a little unexpected. The bare fact was, we were still recovering from the shock of all the changes after our first child, and adjusting to my status as working mom. There seemed little doubt I was made to make babies - smooth pregnancy and quick, uncomplicated delivery. Caring for and living with them, however, turned out to be a much greater challenge even than I had imagined. Though all else being equal I wasn't keen on raising an only child, I was not entirely certain we could handle another.<br />While we were still wrestling with this question, we had opted for what was intended to be a pretty foolproof, hands off means of postponing any final decision. I had had an IUD inserted when Tweety was about 4 months. <br />One of the lingering after effects of Tweety's birth was a shift in my body's response to hormones, with the result that my monthly cycle was a pretty wild ride. While I was on leave, this just meant that not much beyond the basics got done for a few days, and in fact I was only vaguely aware that I seemed a little more sensitive. When I returned to work, however, it was rather like a steamroller. Four straight days I couldn't think straight, obsessive thoughts chugging like a steam train down the track to a broken bridge. (Thankfully, it landed across a weekend, so it was only two days of work that I was useless.) Being in the midst of the transition to 'working mom', these thoughts mostly fixated on the future, and the dilemma of to have or not have another child. Not a bad thing to ponder, when you're in your right mind, but let's just say these weren't constructive thoughts.<br />I went to see the doc after that, as I knew I had to do something if this was going to be the norm going forward. The doc said we should monitor it, and I was to take some notes next cycle and get back to her.<br />Of course, the next cycle never came. I was back at work for less than a month before I was pregnant again. And the dilemma of decision was gone. I was stunned, and afraid, but I'll also admit to being somewhat relieved that the decision had been made for us. In the post partum delirium of Trin's birth, I'd done a lot of second-guessing over our decision to bring another life into this crazy world. But as important as it was for us to have made the conscious choice the first time, it was probably just as positive for us that it was mostly out of our hands the second time. We could easily have chewed over it for another decade. <br />While we were giving ourselves whiplash over the options for our family, God saw fit to move his plan for us forward. I took comfort in the thought that God thought we could handle this. And I wanted a name that somehow reflected that God's will prevails. I looked for awhile for a name that actually meant God Prevails. I found some sites that said Yoel meant exactly that, but it didn't quite fit right. It sounded a lot like Joel - a lot of sources said it was the Hebrew version - but Joel, I was told, meant 'Yahweh is God'. Also a very good name, but not what I was looking for. <br />I had all but given up on the search, pushing it to the far back burner for awhile. Then one day, the burner flared up and I came across the name Eliakim. Sources vary a little in their definition, but the one that stuck with me was "Whom God raises up." Not exactly the meaning I'd started off looking for, but almost immediately it felt right. It stuck with me. The Bear took awhile to warm up to it, but it had been the same for me with Trin's name.<br /><br />Now, as every mother - and some women who've yet to be so blessed - knows, getting pregnant is just the start of the journey. And this pregnancy was different for me than my first. Relatively moderate as far as the classic trials, especially in comparison to some women I know. But it had its unique trials, and this little guy showed from the start that he was rather determined to be here.<br />Of course the unexpected nature of this pregnancy meant that when one decision was taken from us, another tough one came up right away. We have a little life beginning to grow within me, but it's sharing its space with a device meant to keep it from starting. An ultrasound at just five weeks showed the IUD was still exactly where it was supposed to be, and a small dark circle was tucked in right beside it. There's remarkably little real information out there about the risks of removing the IUD or keeping it in, so it was tough, but in time I decided to have it removed, and reduce the risks of complications later in the pregnancy. The little guy hung in there, and we were still pregnant a month later, and the second ultrasound showed a nice strong little heartbeat. <br />In the realm of more classical pregnancy ailments, I was queasy through to about the halfway mark. Thankfully I didn't actually vomit, I just couldn't eat much after a certain point in the morning. It was hard to eat what I ought. In fact, apart from my belly, I was losing weight. But the little guy managed to find everything he needed to grow. Fast. The standard ultrasound showed he was a little ahead of the curve. So did my belly. If I hadn't already had two ultrasounds, I might have expected twins.<br />When the queasiness finally subsided, the sheer size of my belly still meant it was a challenge to eat enough. I peaked out at under 25 pounds gained over the whole pregnancy. But it still didn't slow him down.<br />Which brings us to the delivery. Fast and furious, and the practice's biggest vaginal delivery for the year. And he was thriving from the start, eating well and taking in the new world around him.<br />The third name, had been suggested to the Bear late in the pregnancy. Leonidas was the Spartan king who had led a successful resistance against the Persian army at Thermopylae - the central character in the movie 300. The Bear loved this. I was not so sure I wanted to associate my son with such violence. In any case, I at least had to see the movie first. We debated this one awhile, even after the big arrival. The name means 'Son of Lion.' There had been a bit of a lion theme throughout the pregnancy - little things from totally different sources that kept showing up with lions. And in the end, I figured a boy that big, strong, and determined after all that, was strong enough to carry three names, and Leonidas stayed.<br />And thus far he bears it well. Eliakim Hunter Leonidas Geisler is about six and a half months now (yes - if you were paying attention, he was not quite five months at the start of this post! Writing time is hard to come by) He is tall and strong. Still hates to miss anything - he needs to be put in another room or have his view blocked if he's to get any nap in the day. He's already making his way around the room with great purpose, rolling and spinning and reaching. He's not quite crawling, but the knees are starting to go up, so it won't be long. He's even pulled himself up a couple of times or stood holding furniture. He's going to give me a heart attack no doubt.<br />His third tooth is poking through, and I'm pretty sure the fourth is not far below the surface.<br />He's amazing and wonderful. And I'll be needing all the help I can get to keep up with him and his very different but equally wonderful and amazing sister.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-76635408950896009162008-10-20T15:27:00.002-07:002008-10-20T16:09:51.109-07:00The beginning of the endSome of you know I'm heading back to work in a couple of weeks. So, I knew I had some work to do to get Eli ready for full time daycare. Firstly, he'd eaten nothing but me to that point, which has been great. But really, there's only so much you can ask your daycare provider to do. I started by getting a breast pump so I could introduce him to a bottle. I figured I'd pump whatever was manageable at work, and supplement with formula. Thankfully, he took to the bottle fairly well. I was working on pumping enough to give him one or two bottles each day. But the problem was he was almost always demanding my attention, mostly to feed, so the only time I'd get to pump was at the end of the day. By the start of October he was averaging an hour to an hour and a half between feedings through the day, including nap times, and up two or three times in the night (he had been sleeping beautifully through most of the night earlier in the summer). <br />One night he was up even later than he had been, and I was getting worn out. He was literally tugging on me to get more as I tried to nurse him to sleep. The Bear was beside me on the couch. "I'm really gonna have to introduce some formula soon," I said. He eagerly rose to the occasion. This was a job he knew well from Tweetie's formula days, and frankly, I think he was hoping to get a bit of my time back for himself. My little Titan sucked back the whole bottle like nobody's business and I ordered up another round. He nodded off about an ounce into the second bottle and slept soundly.<br />I sighed. It was pretty clear at that point that even if I wasn't going back to work I'd probably have a hard time keeping up with his needs. It probably also didn't help that I hardly had time to feed myself properly through the day, so my milk was perhaps not so rich as it once was. My breastfeeding days were numbered, and I spent part of the next day mourning.<br /><br />Well, as so often happens around here, that was already a couple of weeks ago. When I had been pumping, I had also started to introduce him to just a little bit of rice cereal, thinking it would be easier for me to do the early introduction while I was still at home with him, and if it worked out it might be simpler in the long run with daycare. As it became clear that I wouldn't come remotely close to being able to pump enough for him without basically giving up working anyway, I resigned myself to the idea of just pumping as needed to keep myself comfortable and if possible keep enough milk to handle any night feeds. If I don't have to go down to the kitchen and prep a bottle at 3 in the morning, I'll be much happier at work. <br />I also decided to start trying a few other foods, since he was eating so well and so much. Since the Bear was off stalking a moose (which he got!) I went to my mom's with the kids for the Thanksgiving weekend. When I went with her to get the last groceries, I picked up a couple of jars of food, figuring that would do me for the weekend. In Tweety's early days of solid food, I often didn't finish the jar before having to dispose of it, so two jars should easily last three days in his first week.<br />We got home and I spooned out a little of the carrots into a dish and offered it up. He ate it, I dished out some more. He at that, too, and I dumped the rest of the jar. Within about twenty minute he ate the whole thing! I was astonished. Then he had a nice nap ;) A little before supper was served, he was clearly hungry again, so I cracked open the peas and brown rice. It didn't take him long to polish that off either. Oh, and did I mention he also had mashed bananas, rice cereal, several bottles of formula and servings of mom the same day?<br />Unfortunately for him, his system had a little trouble getting all that solid food through, and he was a little backed up by the time we got home. Oh well, that was probably appropriate for an election day.<br />He continues to eat steadily, and I'm getting better at finding the right balance of foods for his constitution. He continues to grow. I weighed him last week after his shots and he was 18 lbs. That's half a pound more than the week before and he's probably another half pound by now. A titan he is, and strong.<br />He holds his head straight and steady, lifts his chest up on the floor, rolls over from tummy to back, and babbles happily when he's not crying about hunger or gas or mama knows not what. "da-da-da-da" is a popular refrain currently. <br />But right at this moment, he's looking for a clean, fresh bum, so I'll sign off and hope to catch you all again before working life takes over again. I'll try for some pictures, too.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-26942509466493079222008-10-05T13:17:00.006-07:002008-10-05T14:37:16.747-07:00MomentsWhatever you're doing, wherever you're at, some days are bound to be harder than others. I can't think of any place where this is more true (though perhaps I'll live to discover some) than the hands on, round the clock parenting of little ones. And yesterday was definitely one of those harder days.<br />Eli was not a happy camper. From his six am feeding after a hungry night, till well after lunch, he would not sleep at all. Not so unusual for him, he's not a big sleeper in the day, but he's usually still content to be in his swing or the playpen for a stretch here and there. After a few laps around the block with Trin in tow, and another quick lap while she was napping, Eli finally cried himself out and nodded off a little after one. Once I saw he was out, I flopped on the couch and was out myself in a few minutes. And then the phone rang. Short and sweet, I rolled over again and was out again soon. And then it seemed I blinked and he was awake and crying again. Barely twenty five minutes, and I hadn't shuffled the laundry or cleared the dishes or wiped the table. The same disastrous chaos surrounded me.<br />I was back to doing quick laps in the drizzle, wind and rain, and promising the dogs I'd try to get them out for a walk eventually. I tried everything I could think of to try to settle Eli but nothing was working. Trin was of course getting a little cranky, too, by now because my hands were always full with Eli, so I was distracted and much behind with the usual care and feeding routines. <br />I needed groceries, so I did my best to cover the obvious basic needs and packed up Wailer and Whiner in the car and went to Thrifty's. Eli fell asleep in the sling for the last ten minutes of shopping, but didn't stay that way when I had to put him back into his car seat.<br />About an hour of meal prep in snippets between attempts to feed, burp, rock, walk or change him to keep him somewhat settled. He finally nodded off again for a little over a half hour, just long enough to get the sauce mostly ready, but not to cook the spaghetti. Cooked the noodles with Eli on my arm, dished up for Trin and took him for another lap up and down the block while she ate. It was a good two hours and several feeds after his usual time when he finally passed out for the night and I was able to eat my own supper.<br />So a long and completely exhausting day. I told the Bear the full saga when he called to check in last night; he said he was sorry I'd had such a sh***y day. I had to disagree. I was weary, sore, and had been near tears a few times in the course of it, but the day wasn't bad. Some of the best advice I've had in this season came from Shannon down the street. She's told me many times, it's all about the moments. Whether the kids have been throwing tantrums, picking fights, being careless or outright defiant, at some point they smile, or show you some new skill, or put their toy away, or give a hug to the playmate who got hurt, and you love 'em all over again. To tally the whole day as a lump sum is to lose the value of those precious moments.<br />My day ended with a few of those moments. I'd given in at some point and found something reasonably family friendly on the idiot box to entertain us. At the end of the movie there was a boppy dance tune while the credits rolled, and Trin was givin' her all to the music. I let her dance to the end of the credits before swinging her up to bed with a smile on her face. And along with a few ticklish giggles as I changed him out of his drool soaked clothes and wiped his face, Eli finished his day with a long, comfortable, eyes-closed feeding.<br />Other days this week had their challenges for different reasons. Thursday was a day when lots of little things just didn't line up, and the anxiety was building. But I got to a fabric store and picked out some Eli-friendly (all cotton) fabrics for a couple of projects. It's fun to hope that I might just christen my sewing machine soon. And Friday, the isolation of motherhood had been getting to me, but every time I stepped out the door, to drop off the Trin, walk the dogs, pace with Eli or go to the store, there was someone else to have a little conversation with. Moments to get me through the day. <br />And today was a whole new day, with its own moments. The three of us got out to church this morning, and Trin was dancing in the aisles during worship. Eli had a nice little nap while Trin had lunch, and I got the kitchen under control. He fed and slept a bit again while I started this post, and then let me finish it one-handed. When Trin wakes up soon, I think we may even get out with the dogs. Trin's cold is getting better, and it even stopped raining.<br />So if you've got little ones and they're pushing your limits, take a deep breathe, hang in there and wait for that next moment. And when it comes, savor it.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-35570475254005970452008-09-01T23:42:00.003-07:002008-09-02T22:07:57.825-07:00SurvivalYes, I'm still alive out here. It's been kinda hard for me to get a post out, though there's been no shortage of blogworthy action around here. I'd like to have posted about the three-day road trip home with two kids and two dogs, and a tribute to our old Siamese cat who sadly passed away, and about the absolute insanity that was the replacement of our floors. And that's not to mention all the little tales of everyday life with two under two.<br />But it's been hard to find the time to put them out there. Harder still to form the chaotic thoughts into something coherent to post. There are at least three abandoned drafts of posts, things I just couldn't seem to wrap up before I forgot what I was trying to say.<br />And what I'm trying to say, before I get lost again, is that a lot of things have been hard lately. Harder than I actually realized in the midst of it all, until it got a little ugly. Those who know me well know that I kinda went through the ringer after Tweetie was born. So this time I was on the watch for signs of depression, as were at least a couple of my good friends. I'd had some rough days, but not the seemingly endless weepy days and crying myself to sleep that I went through the first time, so I figured I was doing okay. <br />Turns out I was looking in the wrong place, and anxiety snuck up behind me. Building up until it let loose in some pretty self destructive behaviour. Looking back, it was there all along. But I was mostly busy keeping my head above water, putting one foot in front of the other on autopilot without keeping an eye on the shore. A few gulps of salt chuck made me realize a life jacket might be in order.<br />So, I gave in and spoke to the doc a few short weeks back, and I'm now adjusting to medicated life, riding out the 'break-in' period for the second antidepressant prescription we've tried. The side effects of the first were horrid, and we had to try something else. So far, I'd call the effects of the second tolerable, though there are lots of ups and downs at this point. <br /><br />Yesterday at church, Darin, our pastor, opened his message with a question, one he said he'd be curious to hear people's personal answers to. What do you fear? He threw out some examples like the dark, or spiders, and went on to talk about the association in Jewish and other cultures at the time of the early church of bodies of water with the abyss, the unknown, and various fearful things. In my mind, the answer to his question was not precise, but yet pretty clear. Fear of failure - in many possible forms - as a mother. Darin highlighted a number of events in scripture, from Jesus calming the storm and walking on water, to Jonah being tossed overboard to save the ship, where the very fear and trembling around the water and its power and nature was what made the Lord's power and sovereignty evident. God was totally in control of that which they feared most. <br />That was something I needed to hear in a fresh way.<br /><br />I'm not a perfect mom. Not by any measure, nor can I be. I will inevitably fail on some fronts, and likely even make a few horrible messes. But through God's grace, my kids will still come through alright, and more than that, I'll get it right far more often than I don't. Motherhood is hard - harder than I ever could have imagined. If it didn't make me anxious at all, there'd be something much bigger to worry about. Maybe this season will last many years, maybe things will shift in a few months. It doesn't really matter. For right now I think the meds are doing what they ought to. They take the edge off the anxiety, keeping things mostly below the boiling point, leaving me able to keeping giving my imperfect best to my marriage and family.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-81560874105901242432008-07-29T13:48:00.002-07:002008-07-30T10:57:05.840-07:00This and thatFor those of you waiting with bated breath since my last post, we're staying put. I think we've now talked to all three of my regular readers, and so I don't need to go into details on why. Just know the Bear is taking whatever project work he finds and pounding the virtual pavement.<br /><br />Eli and I both got a clean checkout from our maternity doc last week. At seven weeks four days he weighed 14 lbs 1.5 oz. For those who love statistics and comparison, he was 95th percentile for weight, 90th for head size, and off the charts for length. I actually missed the doc's length measurement, but the week before I measured him down at the health unit and he was 62 cm.<br /><br />Yesterday I had one of those moments where some fact that you know already just becomes so incredibly obvious that it jumps up and slaps you in the face. I was nursing Eli. His body was cradled against my left arm, and his legs were draped over my right leg. I looked down at the real estate he was covering and was duly impressed. He's huge!!<br /><br />And on the topic of large heads, I got a good chuckle this morning when Trin picked up a hat that the Bear's step dad had left on the table. It fit her perfectly, as did two other of Larry's hats that she found.<br /><br />Tweetie is learning all sorts of things these days and it's fascinating to watch. She understands more and more of the things we tell her. Sometimes she even does what we ask ;) Sometimes she's surprisingly clever, or sneaky. Like after breakfast when I asked her to turn around so I could wash her face. She promptly complied, turning around and giving me a sly smile as she passed and completed a full 360 to face away again.<br /><br />She loves to climb, and run and explore. She's getting more creative at finding ways to express herself. When she gets hurt, which happens a lot when you combine the earlier mentioned loves with a body that keeps changing, she's more able to let us know what hurts, which is helpful when it's not so obvious as a bloody knee. And recently she has her own special variation on magic kisses. She'll offer a finger on each hand to be kissed better, and then plant the kiss appropriately herself.<br /><br />But just now, before I came down to check on Eli and finish this post, she melted my heart as only your own child can do. We're at Grandma's right now in the Kootenays, and there are lots of doors here. Trin likes to open and close doors, so I've had to bolt the front door at times and keep an eye on her around other doors. The way a few of the doors are hung, they also tend to slam rather loudly in the hands of a not quite two year old, which I've been trying to discourage. Now, the Bear had come up and made his coffee, so I was going to head down and leave Trin with him. On opening the door to the stairs, Trin was right there wanting to follow me (she was giving a much more detailed explanation in her own language, but I'm not that fluent yet). I knelt down to explain that I was going downstairs to wait for her brother to wake up, but that if she came down with me, he'd be awake much sooner and that wasn't necessarily what I wanted. I think she was mostly listening, because her next move was to close the door for me. I was still squatting in the doorway, however, so the door was stopped by my knee. It didn't actually hurt - she hadn't built any momentum to the swing, yet, but I thought this was a good opportunity to reinforce what we'd been working on with closing doors gently, and watching for other people or animals. <br />"Ow, that's my knee, Trin." <br />She pulled the door back fully open, stepped toward me, grasped my leg, bent over and kissed my knee better. <br />Awwwwww,Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-90152962062559613252008-07-05T07:39:00.006-07:002008-12-09T21:56:51.915-08:00A change in directionThe compass is pointing north for us. Okay, the compass needle, if it's working, always points to magnetic north. So, let's just say that if we turn and face down the only path that seems to go anywhere, we'd be facing roughly north-northwest.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEnqzW7uN8zupFX_bWJWGnbRt1IT7BJlb2W6py3FNjkQVz7o-64hFEUO0Sayw6Wl4Du2vqld-noTbJLFFvDPc-U8fv0vCWdr1fxd1UTt6oaOBqDfE2rMdZXudIWyrXYyXIuqdN/s1600-h/NewWhere.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEnqzW7uN8zupFX_bWJWGnbRt1IT7BJlb2W6py3FNjkQVz7o-64hFEUO0Sayw6Wl4Du2vqld-noTbJLFFvDPc-U8fv0vCWdr1fxd1UTt6oaOBqDfE2rMdZXudIWyrXYyXIuqdN/s320/NewWhere.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220275195140628306" /></a><br />Some of you know it's been a dry winter for us. Well, except for the flood in the upstairs bathroom, which made everything below it rather wet. But as far as the Bear's work and the company, the things that we were expecting to take us through the winter just dried up. So between whatever small jobs came up here and there, and doing some major sorting and purging of all our stuff - a very good thing if you need to know - the Bear has been pounding the virtual pavement looking for steady work close to home. Some really exciting possibilities came up along the way, and he proved himself very adept at jumping through whatever hoops people put up for him, but every time there's been some kind of roadblock at the end.<br />And now, finally, it looks like there's an open door for us. The Bear has a job offer up north. It's a good job. It would be a stretch for the Bear, with a steep learning curve, which makes him nervous, but I think he could pull it off. It's also a long way from what has really started to feel like home, and we're struggling to come to grips with all that entails, and to determine if this is going to be a good move for us.<br />The north has been on our radar for quite awhile now, due mostly to our connections with the Badger and Goddess, and the contract work the Bear has done up there over the last couple of years. And I've been open to relocating, at least in theory. But there's a lot involved for us, especially now that we've got two kids to take along. I'm just longing for some sense that this is truly where we're <span style="font-style:italic;">supposed </span>to go. That we're not simply trading my good job here - which I'd be back to in a year - for a potentially good job up there for the Bear. <br />I talked to my managers this past week about taking an additional year's leave after my maternity leave, so that we'd have enough time to give the new job and northern life a fair shot. I'd hoped for some clear sign from that, but things went very predictably: they'll look into it and start the process. We'll be waiting on that still, as neither the Bear nor I are comfortable cutting ties with my employer without some much clearer sign that this is more than another detour. <br />I also have to consider what life will be like up there when I'm home with the kids. Things have so far gone far more smoothly with the second baby than they did the first time around. Some of that is simply due to some seasoning on my part - I've been there, done that. But a lot of it is also the network I've begun to build up of moms, and some of the little things that are available nearby here. Wonderful daycare just down the street. Clinic, groceries, pharmacy, a number of parks and playgrounds plus other distractions, all within walking distance. All that of course really translates to 'something to do to get out of the house with the kids and keep from losing my mind.' The lack of certain conveniences I think I can adjust to. But I'm wary of circumstances that might make me susceptible to post partum depression again, when things have gone so well so far this time.<br />Now I should be very clear here. I don't see heading north as all negative, or just a great sacrifice for a job. One thing I especially look forward to is regular face time with the Goddess. We've swapped so many e-mails over the last few years that included wishes that we could just get together over a cuppa. And I smile every time I do another of those blasted Likeness quizzes on crackbook and the Goddess again gets the highest match score with me.<br />I've also often thought it would be good for our kids to spend at least some of their growing up years outside the mainstream homogenized city life, to know first hand that there's something else. And to be exposed to a different culture than our own, simply so that 'different' becomes quite normal to them and they look beyond that to the individual people. <br />And I think there is something to be said for the slower pace of northern life - though I'll admit it may take me a bit to throttle back. So we shall see. We'll be heading up later this week for a few days to allow me to check things out and evaluate whether we can make this work. Officially, the Bear's acceptance is contingent on my giving the OK.<br /><br />A final note: <br />This has been a hard post to get out. Initially, it was just finding the time to start it. But once I started, I rattled off a few paragraphs, and quickly got to a point where I wasn't completely sure where my heart was at. Or the thoughts on some aspect weren't complete and I couldn't put together a balanced picture. I'd come back to it in the morning, or the end of the day, write a bit more and get lost again. And some of that is ongoing, but I think it's helped push me through the process and define what is really important for me as we look at heading up there and eventually making final decisions.<br /><br />I'll keep you posted.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-42277004562903694702008-06-25T10:17:00.004-07:002008-12-09T21:56:52.938-08:00picturesHere are a few pics for you visual types. Some would have gone with the last post if I'd been that coordinated, and some are just cuz (do I really need an excuse with a big gorgeous 4 week old boy?) One thing I missed in my last post was that Shannon will tell me I look great. Without qualification. Now I know that I faired pretty well through my pregnancy and even now I look decent for less than a month after delivery. But reality is I'm less than four weeks post partum, and it's nice to hear just "You look great" without the "for x weeks/months pregnant/postpartum." I realized this weekend at my mom's that it's probably a good thing we're rather short on proper mirrors in this house. Yeesh! Rest assured the pics here will include no belly shots. Just enjoy these.<br /><br />This is our friend Amanda, working on the tile around the tub.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIi1jsP6hASBEzjELa8EviyrcPC_X7GyefoOgz7PfeWkuvcR1FlAE5UGkEohRJj8uIv5A16n4sQeUolAT0b1PNK6Tetspe3f2khe3bpvgdBPdmyLm6D80hBk6fucSHRyNOpmXi/s1600-h/amanda.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIi1jsP6hASBEzjELa8EviyrcPC_X7GyefoOgz7PfeWkuvcR1FlAE5UGkEohRJj8uIv5A16n4sQeUolAT0b1PNK6Tetspe3f2khe3bpvgdBPdmyLm6D80hBk6fucSHRyNOpmXi/s320/amanda.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215871433957163922" /></a><br />This is the picture Jack took of Tweetie and Sylvester. I should say, though, that Sylvester's hair is growing fast and yesterday I noticed little sideburns coming in, so he might just become Elvis.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWoW4M2G_4XqJyc6W16Xp_WbAiFZkjWiBKrWiX5zBhLjJpf5uETzU9UJrnZLYYjm8_YHk3Vho5wmKCR0S0_wcWEPNEDDeiJxjWn7-Ix8bBOrFLE3UYS-Vj7DOD3fpdQy5DdO6/s1600-h/Tweetie&Sylvester.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWoW4M2G_4XqJyc6W16Xp_WbAiFZkjWiBKrWiX5zBhLjJpf5uETzU9UJrnZLYYjm8_YHk3Vho5wmKCR0S0_wcWEPNEDDeiJxjWn7-Ix8bBOrFLE3UYS-Vj7DOD3fpdQy5DdO6/s320/Tweetie&Sylvester.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215871443854059650" /></a><br />This one was taken awhile ago on my lap. Okay, only a week ago, but that's a long time in his life!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0NmiUFaXE_75v0qMln2WxBAdmgIFTzqnXdP3QjYzbZnw7MC64FU7Zop-aiRlddrwRi8dM56eaaydtxMrmqVUEftGwR2yyuFEc-wxuGSacEzgEaUYnNymzvkGu3oNkN7ekwAm/s1600-h/laptop.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0NmiUFaXE_75v0qMln2WxBAdmgIFTzqnXdP3QjYzbZnw7MC64FU7Zop-aiRlddrwRi8dM56eaaydtxMrmqVUEftGwR2yyuFEc-wxuGSacEzgEaUYnNymzvkGu3oNkN7ekwAm/s320/laptop.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215871449144073986" /></a><br />This picture of contentment was taken shortly after he finished his last feed Sunday night at my mom's.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPh-9-PcGH-dtIb2zbTsLdEYYYlaga1jXUcNxrMGkLeCBeaOdKue19h9p-vz-wmpoyMCzVXQVp0Yr53P56xkOJj_DWkzP6wMAoXV-GNGIyX8Hc_LQDvsXENp8T3IX0i_JUnbvv/s1600-h/overtheshoulder.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPh-9-PcGH-dtIb2zbTsLdEYYYlaga1jXUcNxrMGkLeCBeaOdKue19h9p-vz-wmpoyMCzVXQVp0Yr53P56xkOJj_DWkzP6wMAoXV-GNGIyX8Hc_LQDvsXENp8T3IX0i_JUnbvv/s320/overtheshoulder.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215871454063705842" /></a><br />And just because we still have critters, and they're still cute, too...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-MSdXqAb76UWlJQEsx-Obr5Hj5pgDSZ9oKjqhNUiJRUWgwzpOwulz0NdHQln0_pPGF8JUYznuJVh8sIWjfEnX_uKuqFy62LeamHwmsSQ2uT_9H9gs74JdHyq3tr2VfjQR7fXC/s1600-h/catbed.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-MSdXqAb76UWlJQEsx-Obr5Hj5pgDSZ9oKjqhNUiJRUWgwzpOwulz0NdHQln0_pPGF8JUYznuJVh8sIWjfEnX_uKuqFy62LeamHwmsSQ2uT_9H9gs74JdHyq3tr2VfjQR7fXC/s320/catbed.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215871666123727842" /></a>Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-22191470796185744312008-06-19T14:08:00.003-07:002008-06-23T09:25:47.457-07:00Takin' it easyOne of the big jokes in my mind as I look back on the early days with baby one was how often a list of 'shoulds' and 'ought tos' for the new mother was wrapped up with a 'and get lots of rest,' or 'take care of yourself.' Or how that well-intentioned advice came on its own, with no suggestions or offer of help to make that elusive goal more attainable.<br />Well, this time around has been different, marvellously. Of course, it helps when you're not a total greenhorn and you don't panic and lose sleep over every little thing. But even more so, it helps to have some good friends around you. And I have several, and it's been so much easier to take it easy, thanks to them.<br />The first of these here in town is right down the street. Shannon, who looks after Tweetie during the week, is only seven houses away. Whatever time I manage to get things together and wander down the block (and with T, I do mean wander), she's there. And she practically dares me to show up in my pyjamas or housecoat if that would make life easier. Sometimes just knowing that I could is nice. (And yes, in the ten months she's been watching T, there've been a few times I've arrived wearing my pyjama pants or the t-shirt I slept in.) Since I've been on leave, I've probably averaged at least an hour hanging out there in the mornings. Since Eli was born, it's often been a case of keeping him occupied in the sling until I can get T ready and out the door, so he gets fed at daycare. We're cutting back to twice a week at daycare soon, so I'll miss that, but I have an open invitation to visit.<br />The second also comes through the daycare connection. Amanda, one of the other moms there, has been another blessing. For a good part of the year, she's kept T in high fashion, as she worked at a local community center and would scope out the surplus donations for Tweetie-wear on a regular basis. She also gave me enough baby boy clothes to keep Eli pretty much covered for the first year! She's also working on becoming a registered doula, and as Eli's arrival loomed larger (look back at those last pregnant pictures to see just how large) she offered to attend the birth, and over the last few weeks before and after checked in on me and kept tabs on how things were going. Vince was glad again to have some backup at the delivery and someone to keep him calm, though he once more did an awesome job as my coach. And as an extra special post partum treat, Amanda stepped up, when Vince had to head out of town again, to tackle the tile in the bathroom so I could get back to having baths (almost there ... but that's another post).<br />And last, but never least, on the first Saturday that Vince was away, our good friends Jack and Jem, who had reason to be down at the coast, hopped the ferry to come over and bless me (read: spoil me rotten). And I, being a second-time mom and therefore able to fully appreciate such things, let them. They came over in their truck and stopped en route for lunch materials. Made lunch when they got here, cleared my kitchen table (a significant feat in itself) for us to eat at. Brought me drinks on the couch as I fed Eli. Put away the clean dishes in the dishwasher, and loaded everything up from lunch. Washed the frying pans in the sink. Wrapped up the leftovers. Brought gifts for T and Eli. And picked up take out and shared dinner with me before heading back to the mainland. A wonderful first day 'alone' with both kids. And made Sunday, which was a little hairy with T, much more bearable. Now I just need them to send me a copy of that pic they took with T beside Eli in his bucket seat.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-28145815090395919682008-06-06T13:24:00.004-07:002008-12-09T21:56:53.675-08:00May I present...It's taken a bit, but I finally have some pictures I can put up of our little man. He's had a pretty good first week, and by all indications so far, he's gonna be a sweetheart like his big sister. He gives me a bit of a longer stretch at night, all on his own, feeds well, good color. <br />He had his first check up with the doc yesterday, and in her words, he's perfect. At least medically speaking. Of course, I think he's pretty close to perfect all around. He's stirring a bit in his little laundry bassinet, so I'll throw up some pics here and get on to him.<br /><br />The weigh-in<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJ1gqfNLMjuydQNOq9EEIlt3DiV-zKgTbFe-Mb5PjkaFBX6EaeFt6b1vJJoE3ED22kwrOWcPrE5MRBzdd_TqIdZICpLjnjKMtp7Z8P6DlQTqUvVNf9thTOQnx8DE5JE_CgDm2/s1600-h/P1010302.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJ1gqfNLMjuydQNOq9EEIlt3DiV-zKgTbFe-Mb5PjkaFBX6EaeFt6b1vJJoE3ED22kwrOWcPrE5MRBzdd_TqIdZICpLjnjKMtp7Z8P6DlQTqUvVNf9thTOQnx8DE5JE_CgDm2/s320/P1010302.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208885162169258034" /></a><br /><br />All checked out<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihq9watbd0HPvawKYnOmG5Bb4n5Oo1ovaEhqLG44C3KSenTNjunbFc565roPGCwWGwnaimPOdp263NfAwfTASEIrOrLI2z8nghviuPqU1NXhnl3Jx-wwt_mZ6WdeMohJqXkg9g/s1600-h/P1010317.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihq9watbd0HPvawKYnOmG5Bb4n5Oo1ovaEhqLG44C3KSenTNjunbFc565roPGCwWGwnaimPOdp263NfAwfTASEIrOrLI2z8nghviuPqU1NXhnl3Jx-wwt_mZ6WdeMohJqXkg9g/s320/P1010317.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208885212443475250" /></a><br /><br />Hello, there<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3Ia8CGyO_sUnjFQyK-8y7RkL88Eq-m5REPZhWYHRZ52pVq4wRPsOProPE95bp3Y4vALt5bosgCWRLx5fRHDgaIe_r-ywxIZa_XCqk5n4NZdhVwnMVoIdlxtMxM5-vsygPUFT/s1600-h/SSPX0051.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3Ia8CGyO_sUnjFQyK-8y7RkL88Eq-m5REPZhWYHRZ52pVq4wRPsOProPE95bp3Y4vALt5bosgCWRLx5fRHDgaIe_r-ywxIZa_XCqk5n4NZdhVwnMVoIdlxtMxM5-vsygPUFT/s320/SSPX0051.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208885221394356498" /></a><br /><br />Mmmm...that's good stuff<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjqArLdv_jhAu5l0S_y83_46zLdZ_f6Ml7_oDW-ujZ_Sspd0RC8i1GnSLHtamlJYF5pfucnlvzPcIq_htD08i5wGrFFgcAkJ2a-c8PfhiQNUZ3yLp3w9Rj3AslPjSlkPeknOe2/s1600-h/SSPX0056.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjqArLdv_jhAu5l0S_y83_46zLdZ_f6Ml7_oDW-ujZ_Sspd0RC8i1GnSLHtamlJYF5pfucnlvzPcIq_htD08i5wGrFFgcAkJ2a-c8PfhiQNUZ3yLp3w9Rj3AslPjSlkPeknOe2/s320/SSPX0056.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208885232729430322" /></a>Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-87022480023218623462008-06-03T12:12:00.003-07:002008-06-03T16:18:30.986-07:00Hallelujah!I'm sitting on my bed with a cup of tea behind me (the cookies are gone), my laptop on my knees, and a gorgeous new little man sleeping off a good milk buzz at my side. I'm exhausted, but life is good. There are many things on my heart to share, but I don't know how far I'll get, so I'll start with the basics.<br /><br />At 8:48 pm on Friday, May 30, after a fast and furious labour, our long awaited son, Eliakim Hunter, was born. He measured up a healthy 57 cm long, with a hat size of 36.5 cm (that's 22.4 inches and 14.4 inches for the imperialists). And he weighed in at ... wait for it ... 5224 grams or <span style="font-weight:bold;">eleven and a half pounds!</span> A few of you may have heard the early report of 11 lbs 3 oz, which was either misheard or miscalculated in the chaos of the delivery room, but when I double-checked the conversion this morning, the three turned out to be eight.<br />There was lots of extra attention in the delivery room, as I had just that morning been in for an ultrasound and the technician had estimated the size from the measurements there at 12 lbs 3 oz - the largest he'd ever seen. (Apparently we left before they could do the non-stress test. They seemed short on staff and the tech said that was it - I claim it was the shock of that prognosis that sent us running.) There are some extra risks with such big babies, so they had the obstetrician in attendance and an extra nurse or two. I wasn't paying much attention to such things (somewhat otherwise engaged) but I imagine there may have been a few extra bodies hovering nearby as I'd been the buzz of the hospital all day.<br />In the end it all went as well as could possibly be expected. A bare two and a half hours from the start of regular, serious contractions (during which I went to Thrifty's for milk and alfredo sauce - silly woman). That's the part where most moms in the readership declare their hatred for me. But then it was a good four and a half hours after delivery, parts of which were nearly as brutal as labour itself, before they decreed I was stable enough to be transferred to the mom and babe ward. <br />Eli came through with flying colours. Passed his blood sugar tests. showed no sign of nerve damage in the shoulder or other trauma. He even came out looking fairly human - in a five month old newborn sort of way.<br />The best part by far for me - better even than getting tubes out of me, or the end of assaults on my battered belly to assess bleeding - was having the two of us work out the whole nursing arrangement. I was able to get Eli latched on fairly early, and now that my milk is in, he's nursing up a storm. After all the trials we went through with our daughter, that little triumph raised a whole chorus of Hallelujahs and Amens in my heart.<br />Well, this has taken most of the day to write, so I think I'll end on that shining note, but stay tuned for more.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28100429.post-51421688434884590752008-05-29T16:00:00.005-07:002008-12-09T21:56:54.240-08:00Place your betsLast chance, folks. Place your bets now, while there's still time. Sylvester has yet to show his lovely little face, so I want to solicit a few good guesses as to just how big he's going to be. I'm eight days past due at this point, I've got an acupuncture appointment this afternoon, and a non-stress test tomorrow morning. (Some of you may know that I tried acupuncture when we were expecting T and she came the next day, without the need for the scheduled induction).<br />So, for a few hints, and a view of some of the fun we've had while waiting, here are some pics.<br /><br />First, the classic profile shot for your betting insight.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilSfMp88-53VB5MlR7ee8Pcxx6t5gfsdMjg9tQRLAaYwQ8mNzXTGNjcxAEqyjxY5YRJQj_aa-ZgF8ao8i1kQM-yMq-P3qDBAZ5WFvhH85e2Y2AsrDJU-Yekgzof3Aib4Ix7qPo/s1600-h/lastdaysprofile.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilSfMp88-53VB5MlR7ee8Pcxx6t5gfsdMjg9tQRLAaYwQ8mNzXTGNjcxAEqyjxY5YRJQj_aa-ZgF8ao8i1kQM-yMq-P3qDBAZ5WFvhH85e2Y2AsrDJU-Yekgzof3Aib4Ix7qPo/s320/lastdaysprofile.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205940930654724034" /></a><br /><br />Here's a shot of what we put on my belly earlier today. I roughed it out in the mirror and Vince filled it in with the henna paste.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-6-XGw1a8plk2IWNaVBJs5dgbrsSVjlnxVUrkoaJZf0SWpg2XxSHzBjs47aTTd3IIFi82tr3b6zgj5AK3vur1uPMwlyxn9esIgXvbJsifNYu3yjr51uCtQIr2vQCb5-P9hfmx/s1600-h/sylvesterwide.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-6-XGw1a8plk2IWNaVBJs5dgbrsSVjlnxVUrkoaJZf0SWpg2XxSHzBjs47aTTd3IIFi82tr3b6zgj5AK3vur1uPMwlyxn9esIgXvbJsifNYu3yjr51uCtQIr2vQCb5-P9hfmx/s320/sylvesterwide.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205940934949691346" /></a><br /><br />A close up.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_iuzFn3rr6swqeILpZkgWu5SYw8fAbOgXPFJPDNuTFDH8k3BFzGBOiglCXK3hMrHEtNrBIt99M-qJStI540nB9oqlgh-LW0z_K-RsI177orErapUoPyBTWJN2dzziJxYD8UT/s1600-h/sylvesterclose.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_iuzFn3rr6swqeILpZkgWu5SYw8fAbOgXPFJPDNuTFDH8k3BFzGBOiglCXK3hMrHEtNrBIt99M-qJStI540nB9oqlgh-LW0z_K-RsI177orErapUoPyBTWJN2dzziJxYD8UT/s320/sylvesterclose.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205940939244658658" /></a><br /><br />And a little design on my hand.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-rXRLKdWPahHi5szt64ARaSmsMVj2lPU_mxDHc4J9NEGyN73lgZqPZZUVunMifRHPfkql7eAhOQgBtA9mHp2DcPFmCkxY3M8uYrmNjn9_ybs5A-vEh0wSWeIb5DUY3N7GR4K/s1600-h/sunflowerhand.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-rXRLKdWPahHi5szt64ARaSmsMVj2lPU_mxDHc4J9NEGyN73lgZqPZZUVunMifRHPfkql7eAhOQgBtA9mHp2DcPFmCkxY3M8uYrmNjn9_ybs5A-vEh0wSWeIb5DUY3N7GR4K/s320/sunflowerhand.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205940939244658674" /></a><br /><br />A couple of other hints: Tweetie weighed in at 9 pounds 12 ounces, and she was my first, a girl, and didn't register as being particularly big at the ultrasound, unlike Sylvester.Coastalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10999669887251621709noreply@blogger.com3