Monthly Archives: May 2016

Honesty

Let me level with you: I hated being pregnant with C. I was one of those weird people that felt better as the pregnancy progressed with the third trimester being my best. I convinced myself it was because I had time to adjust to my changing body, adapt to the hormones and learn my limitations. And the next time would be even better because I’d be more prepared!

You can’t hear it but I’m laughing maniacally in my head.

I hate it just as much the second time around, with the added bonus of knowing even though it gets “better,” it’s never that great. There’s no glowing, beaming mother-to-be here. I still get ravenously hungry and gorge myself until I’m uncomfortably bloated and gassy (which can be anywhere from 6 to 600 bites on any given day so while it’s my own fault some days, other days my body is just out to spite me). I still forget that I can’t run as fast or as long. I still could fall asleep at the drop of a hat, except in the middle of the night. Growing a baby is exhausting work, and I’m chasing a toddler on top of it all.

And so I’m sorry, second child, but I have neither the energy nor desire to document this pregnancy. I don’t want to hide the discomfort and malaise behind a rosy exterior fit for public consumption.

As a second child, myself, I do fear that this child will some day stumble on my internet persona and realize how slighted they have been without a weekly picture and summary. (I am also aware that if they develop the same neurosis, it is highly probable that it’s root cause could be my own protections of it). So the only thing I can give in the place of weekly documentation is honesty.

Pregnancy is a struggle. While I may complain that my body aches, I can’t sleep, or I ate too much/ not enough, I know I am very lucky to have experienced and so far be experiencing a problem-free pregnancy by all medical standards. I have good days, where I get a lot accomplished, I fit in a restful nap, and I have enough energy to be a fun and active mom (at least until C goes to bed). And even on bad days, I have good moments, like an unexpected kiss from C, a husband who picks me up a treat when he goes grocery shopping, or burp that relieves a whole lot of belly pressure. It’s not always classy, but I have to hold onto those days and those moments.

Because I find as my body shifts shape, the baby becomes more tangible and we check items off our to-do list, I lose myself. Only three months in and I already feel myself slipping away. I find it both terribly depressing but reassuring to remind myself that I will come back. I will find me again. If this time is anything like last time, I am only twelve months away.

Categories: The new identity | 2 Comments

These Little Moments #14

I don’t talk about my job a lot. Some of it is for my privacy. Some of it is for the privacy of those I work with. But sometimes, when you spend 35 hours at work, your best part of the week happens there (shhhh don’t tell my daughter. As far as she is concerned, she’s my whole world).

June through September is crunch time at work, all the more complicated by trying to squeeze in vacation as well. And knowing that I have to not only navigate a few new software systems at work but I also have to update my procedure manual to reflect the new programs is weighing heavily on my mind. So remembering that I have a few tasks I’ve been ignoring for so long I’d forgotten them did not make me happy. Not being one to leave things untied, I knew I had to knock these things off the to-do list before summer speeds away and before I knew it, I’d be off on Mat leave. Again.

So I developed a plan. If mornings are rough as it is, it’s not going to make them any worse by dedicating an hour a day to the forgotten but necessary to complete tasks. Besides, I figured it would only take 2 weeks.

And two days later, at an hour a day, they were done.

It turns out that the more you procrastinate things, the bigger your brain makes it. But accomplishing that gargantuan task in much less time than expected?

It makes you feel better than you thought, too!

Linking up with Simply Shaunacey for Monday Moments of Gratitude

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Categories: The new identity | 2 Comments

Welcome back me!

All week I’ve been eyeing the cardigan looks popping up through a link up thinking “why can’t I look pulled together?” And really why can’t I? 

I’ve struggled with this body pretty much since I found out I was pregnant. At my last doctor’s appointment a nurse commented “are you sure you’re only 9 weeks? You look much bigger!”  At 11 weeks a coworker sneered: “those pants won’t fit you much longer”. Even though I went public early to avoid people scrutinizing my belly (and the fact my face remained a sickly green for weeks at a time), I forgot announcing a pregnancy is an open invitation to scrutiny. I lived in jeans and a grey oversized chunky knit cardigan for weeks, trying to hide. Not overly professional and not overly me. 

So this week I’m trying. I’m still skewing more casual and comfortable than I would like to. But I’ve decided if people are going to talk, I might as well give them something to talk about. 

Welcome back colour. Welcome back Cara. I’ve missed you. 

Categories: The new identity | 1 Comment

These Little Moments #13

Usually discussions of having your first kid proceed actually having your first kid. “I want a baby” usually crops up months/years before it becomes a reality because you create a list of expectations. You want a steady career. You want a house. You want a reliable car. Once those are in place, the stars align and you are finally READY.

Yes, there is are multiple levels of apprehension during the whole process up until the birth but often is starts with a moment of certainty.

But baby number 2? There’s less pressure to have this bucket list of ways to get your life in order first. Either your life already is in order or you’ve accepted that your life will never be in order again so no need to put additional pressure on yourself. There’s a lot of questioning “are we ready? Is our first born ready?” Fewer stars feel like they’ve aligned and so you just leap and hope you really are ready when the baby comes.

I think that’s the real reason pregnancy is 9 months.

The minute you pee on that stick, your first born magically gets younger. She becomes more precious and needs 5 times your attention than she did mere minutes before. You can’t imagine your precious baby having to give up her crib? Her high chair? Her spot as the centre of my life?

But slowly she grows back to the age you remember her being. Slowly she grows into the age she really is. And slowly, you begin to realize that your little baby isn’t a little baby any more. You look in the door to her room on your way to bed one night, and lying in her crib with her soother, blanket and teddy bear — all manifestations of her babyhood — stuffed in the far corner of her crib. There is your big kid.

And in that moment you know you’re ready for the next baby.
Linking up with Simply Shaunacey for Monday Moments of Gratitude

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Categories: The new identity | 6 Comments

Currently: In May

Thank you Anne & Jenna for this month’s Currently! After a brief blogging recess, it feels weird to be back TWICE in one week! Thank goodness for link-ups! This month we are:

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Celebrating: Oh ya, if you don’t follow me on Instagram, you wouldn’t have caught the announcement (if you can count a picture of a pill bottle with the telltale branded image of Diclectin in it), Baby #2 is about 7 months away. And after two months of constant nausea, mind-numbing exhaustion and a terrible weekend of alternating insomnia and somnolence with large dash of dizziness and a sprinkling of skin crawling (Diclectin was not my friend), I’m starting to feel human again.

Reading: Reading puts me to sleep, so I’m not reading for me these days. I’ve been sticking with the same 7 books with C: 6 of the Curious George Around Town boxed set, and her current favourite of the Mini Myths collection: Please Share, Aphrodite. She “reads” the whole thing along with me.

Pondering: How much longer my daughter is going to nap. Usually, I’m all for a Sunday afternoon nap myself, but it’s warm out, and I just want to get going on our plans to play outside.

Sipping: Juice! Water makes me nauseous, but I get terrible leg cramps if I don’t drink enough liquids, so I’ve been indulging my inner toddler and sipping on what my husband is now referring to “Gin mix” since we have a juice-obsessed toddler actually living in the house.

Going: for a walk! She’s up!

 

Categories: The new identity | 3 Comments

These Little Moments #12

I’ve been falling behind at life as of late. I am a stickler for routines, and I quite enjoyed the fact I’d get home about 20 after 5 and find Scott and C in the kitchen already starting on supper. But as Scott had to work out of an office across the city for a few weeks, that meant that I didn’t get home from picking C up until 6, and then would still have to start supper.

Have you ever tried to starting to make supper at the time a toddler is usually finishing eating it?

It wasn’t long before I discovered the easiest way to make life work was to just order food on the way home. Plus, if the pizza runs late, you can silence your mom-guilt by stuffing your kid full of veggies while you wait.

And cleaning up? Ya, that gets pushed to weekends, which happens haphazardly when those fully roll around.

One Thursday morning, I can remember looking through the kitchen before I left, and I could see the spots on the floor where the can of ginger ale exploded a few days before that I thought we’d wiped up. I could see the breakfast dishes on the table, last night’s supper dishes in the sink. Shoes from the back porch were strewn into the kitchen, and random pieces of C’s clothing hang off of kitchen chairs.

But when I came home to that same kitchen, the sun gleamed off the counters, the floors were spotless and the smell of beef stroganoff filled the air. My daughter was giggling in the living room.

For a minute, I felt like I had life together.

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Ok, technically, I didn’t have it together. Scott prepped and programmed the slow cooker. And my parents, who were entertaining my child in the living room, offered to drop her off at our house to cut down on my post-work commute, and to surprise me by arriving early to clean my house.

But sometimes, you have to give yourself a break and let others step in to help you get your life back in order.

Linking up with Simply Shaunacey for Monday Moments of Gratitude

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Categories: The new identity | 2 Comments

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