I Want the Village

We were never supposed to move to Houston.  My husband and I agreed when we got married that we would never move to Houston; we were united in our sense that it was the wrong place to build our lives, in spite of his professional opportunities there.  Geography has been a tricky puzzle for us from day one, but we believed we would eventually find a way around it.

That was seven-ish years ago.  The surprise we have felt at not hating life in Houston, and even rather enjoying it, has been noted on many occasions in this blog; and has been accompanied by multiple other surprises since moving here.

Finally

It’s been busy.  

My husband and I just returned from taking our baby on a trip to Missouri to see family. We spent four days in a house with six other people, bringing the household total to nine people, ranging in age from six months to forty-six years. We arrived in time for an ice storm and were essentially snowed in until our departure.  It was our first trip with the baby, and while it went well, it was intense.  I still can't believe that I was one of those people at the airport that I always pitied in the past (a person with a baby and a stroller and car seat and unbelievable amounts of shit in my luggage and carry-ons).

In spite of snow days and trips, I finally made something practical for the baby, with extra bits I already had, instead of buying new stuff:

I borrowed the pattern from some other bibs given to us as gifts, and used my serger to keep it fast and simple.  The material came from a hand-me-down baby blanket that we did not need.  They are not beautiful, but they are something that I made with resources I already had, which felt good.  As the baby starts to eat real food, I am coming to realize that I will need many, many, many bibs.  And a sense of humor.

Also, we’re moving.  Stay tuned.

Unbalanced

The hardest thing for me so far in the baby adventure has been to find a balance between all things baby and all other things. I am clearly only one of millions to lament this challenge.

Prior to our son, I had unscheduled, low-pressure, not-so-career-path days.  I've always been good at entertaining myself.  I'm pretty sure the last time I felt bored was sometime in 2008.  Now, almost three months after his birth, I have to admit to harboring a little envy towards my friends who have jobs that they really value.  I expected motherhood to feel like an extension of my happy-at-home feeling, but I'm not sure if that is how it's turning out.  Our son is a sweet and lovely little boy, and I am beyond grateful to have the time to invest in his well-being, but my crafty creative urges and goals feel like they are withering on the vine and it worries me.  I even miss cooking, which is surprising.

One of my favorite resources on parenting so far is a book a read called Bringing Up Bébé.  I initially read this book before I was sure I wanted to have a baby, because it sounded interesting.  It was a great read, both before and during pregnancy.  It is funny, clear-eyed, culturally relevant, and well-written; truly an honest take on parenting, for Americans not just in France, but anywhere.  I just finished reading it for a third time right now, in-between nursing sessions, diaper changes, and hastily knit rows, to scan for any techniques that might help us remain calm and level-headed through the newborn grind.  Maybe it's a coincidence, but in my opinion, a few tidbits that I reviewed last week helped us achieve our first full nights of infant sleep since we brought the baby home from the hospital.

Like a Rolling Stone

I am not technically a fan of the Rolling Stones. Their music is fine to me, not bad, but just not necessarily what I seek. However, there is a song that has been rattling around in my brain for the better part of this strange year.

"I saw her today at the reception..."

My husband left a few days ago for his first four weeks in Angola. I have a range of emotional and mental responses to this, but admittedly at the moment they are mostly negative. I was not ready for him to go this time. I probably wouldn't have been ready a month from now, either. When we first discussed his possibly working on an overseas rotation, it was never coupled in my mind with being home alone with our newborn baby. I find this circumstance both logistically tricky and deeply emotional.

"A glass of wine in her hand..."


The people who read this blog and know us know that my husband is not a mean man. He is, in fact, quite caring. He tells me that many families like rotation life because the end result is that fifty percent of his time will be spent at home, as a full-time dad, not working. And also that the freedom of that schedule will allow us to spend more quality time with family and friends in Minnesota, the way we've often hoped to.

"I knew she was going to meet her connection..."

I believe him. I'm not immune to the positive aspects of his unusual work circumstances, but at the moment the intensity of the year has left me feeling overwhelmed and truly wiped out.

"At her feet was a footloose man..."

The day that he left felt like one of those really terrible days in life that you don't forget. He was busy preparing to go all day, and I was busy trying to care for the baby all day.  I sobbed when he got in the taxi.  Tears dropped from my eyes without warning throughout the days and nights surrounding his departure. Certainly pregnancy followed by newborn-induced sleeplessness exacerbated my intense feelings.

"You can't always get what you want..."

I, and we, had big plans for 2013. Big sewing plans, big professional plans, big travel plans, big financial goals, big plans for our new house. The curve balls were relentless though, and ultimately here I am, nursing our son in this dark nursery half-way around the world from my husband. It was a very different from what I imagined having a family might be like.

"You can't always get what you want..."

It's not that I'm not thrilled about our beautiful baby, or blind to the positives of my husband's work. But it is true that I believe families should try to be together, and that the way this year unfolded is what has caused me to believe that more firmly. Tricky.

"You can't always get what you want..."

It is scary to think about the coming solo weeks after Mom leaves. On the other hand, a lot of people have gone above and beyond to make sure that I don't feel alone or overwhelmed right now. One friend in particular has babysat more than once, brought ice cream and Chipotle, kidnapped me for a baby-free afternoon outside the house, helped me navigate my insurance coverage while I was stuck in my hospital bed, and even helped me improve my odds at continuing to breastfeed in the face of tricky circumstances when she saw, well before I did, how close we had come to not being able to do it. Other friends have dropped off food or helped watch the baby, and still others have sent things in the mail. My mom has not only baby-sat, given up sleep, and just sat still loving our baby for hours; but she has also helped me finish setting up and decorating the unfinished nursery by framing items and sewing bits that I had planned to do but had not completed prior to delivery.  All things considered, we feel loved and lucky, and I know that there are people I can call if I am truly struggling after my mom leaves.

"But if you try sometimes, you just might find..."

We are lucky for other reasons. My husband could easily have not been able to make it back for the birth of our son, but he did make it back. Also, we were able to be together from much of the pregnancy, and even more importantly, his strange job allowed him to be at home with us, full-time, for the first five weeks of our baby's life. Even though I am not quite yet able to feel happy and cheerful about the way this week and this month feel, my brain recognizes that it will all work, because it keeps doing that anyway, no matter what happens.

"You get what you need..."

I can't deny that we have what we need: love, health, each other, and some extras. Just like the song says.

Feed the Beast

I've been a little bit surprised to find that breastfeeding feels like the most difficult part of taking care of a newborn.  Probably this is a reflection of my inexperience with babies and parenthood, but to be honest, this was one area where I did not realize I was ill-prepared.  By that I mean that I had read an entire book on breastfeeding, nearly cover-to-cover, before our son was born.

The Day Before

A notion on my mind in recent months has been the feeling of that moment when your entire universe changes, particularly those occasions when it happens with no warning.  I also can't stop thinking about the hours and days right before that moment...the time when you had no idea what was about to happen to you.  Unfortunately, many of those moments involve something terrifying or otherwise negative, but sometimes they are also created by events that are wildly positive.  Maybe you find out something shocking about someone you love, or maybe a beloved pet is harmed unexpectedly.  Maybe marriage was proposed when you did not expect it.  Perhaps there is bad news about your health, or you are victimized by one of the many severe weather events that seem to come more frequently now.  Maybe, just maybe, your baby arrives a month early, but still completely healthy.  Suddenly, your entire point of view has been altered, and other problems which loomed prior to said event become minor; correctly repositioned in the grand scheme of things.

Sunday Cooking

I did not help my mom in the kitchen very much while I was growing up, unless you count making my own school lunches and learning how to make certain foods that I wanted to eat over and over again, like mashed potatoes and chocolate chip cookies.

So when I was living alone as a younger adult, I soon realized that I didn't know how to cook real food.  Recipes had mysterious ingredients in them, like "stock", and unclear commands, like "cut the butter into the flour".  Obviously I avoided those recipes until I had made all of the other ones with easier instructions.  I even tried once to make soup not only without stock, but also without onions.  I have never liked raw onion, and I hadn't yet realized not only that cooked onion completely different than raw onion, but also that cooking an onion is the beginning of almost everything.

I made a lot of gourmet grilled cheese with tomato soup from a box and relied upon Amy's Organics frozen meals for my lunches at work.  I ate out a lot.  I was not unusual among my peers in this, but I know my parents were confused.  They knew that I should have been on a budget, so my habit of eating out frequently seemed strange to them.  But, that's what we did; as entertainment, as a vehicle for socializing, as a way to feel grown-up, and probably because suddenly delicious food was quite hip.

Curve Ball Trifecta

I'm pregnant.  Finally, I'm saying out loud what's really on my mind and what has been on my mind for six weeks now.  Technically, we should wait even longer to spill the beans, but since this situation colors my thoughts on most other situations lately, it's been very hard to keep quiet.  Also, often things do not feel real to me until I put them in writing (possibly the result of a liberal arts education?), and while my body gives me significant clues that this is real, it still seems murky and far-fetched.

It has been a season of surprises, pretty big ones.  We shouldn't have been completely surprised by the pregnancy, since we are people who paid attention in health class back in the day, but still.  I just never thought that I would be one of those people who would basically think about pregnancy and then become pregnant five seconds later.  So that was our first surprise, just before Christmas.

(Belated) Birthday Stitching

For some time, I have admired Sublime Stitching, a crafty and modern sewing company, founded by a cool woman from Austin, Texas.  Finally, finally, I bought one of her patterns and enjoyed testing it out.  

My brother-in-law was recently married, which means that I have a new sister.  I bought this kit with her in mind, but missed the mark for using it as a shower gift last summer.  I was recently horrified by the fact that I almost missed her birthday, too.  She never misses my birthday.  So, if you want to see what I made for her, read on.  If you are her, watch for a little package, and decide for yourself if you would like to be surprised or not.  Do not keep reading if you prefer to be surprised.

What About You?

My dad and I have been engaged in a dialogue over email lately that I appreciate very much.  We have been reflecting on work, inspiration, motivation and attitude...topics we have never approached together.  In his most recent message to me, after sharing some things that "keep him going", he asked me what keeps me going.  That was a couple of weeks ago, and the question has been floating over my shoulder as I have gone on with my normal activities.

You're Over-thinking It: Babies

When I was still living in Canada, a friend of mine told me that she thinks I'm over-thinking babies.  She is very direct, a quality which I appreciate, and she did not say it until after I mentioned that in spite of all of my lifelong, practical reasons for thinking that I probably wouldn't procreate, I've been occasionally having a fleeting, less logical, sure-of-course-why-wouldn't-we feeling about at least being open to it.

Here are things that scare me about it: the health ramifications of pregnancy, including the effect on my cluster headache condition; giving up much significant amounts of sleep for several of the ensuing years after the birth, how to educate a child, the fact that I don't like to play and that I'm terrible at being silly, the fact that I often fail to choose healthy food when feeling taxed or swamped in the middle of a long week, taking responsibility for a little person, never fitting back into my favorite clothes (I know that's kind of lame), saving enough money for our own future, along with hopefully providing backup security for said little person...the list is long.

Initials Nightie: Rough Draft

When I was in middle school, I discovered some blue cotton scrubs in my parents' closet and I adopted them as my pyjamas.  They were soft and comfy and over the years they continued to be what I reached for when I look for sleepwear with high functionality.  Sadly, they have now been worn and washed so many thousands of times that even though I still reach for them (over twenty years later), I've noticed that they have become transparent.

Happy Birthday Dad

KnitWork

Birthday Cake

My domestic skills can best be described as average.

On a scale ranging from Take-Out to Martha Stewart, I fall somewhere between Amy Sedaris and Jaime Oliver.  You will get a flavorful and healthy dinner at my house, made mostly without cans, boxes, or packets, but the flatware is vintage, mis-matched Target.  The toilets will likely be clean, but there is probably dust on the shelves.

Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.  It is an unambiguous time of celebration and gratitude, with no confusing mixed messages about religion or materialism, or patriotism wrapped in scary truth-about-history stories.

Voltron

This morning my husband and I were sitting at breakfast, and he looked at me and said, “We’re like Voltron,”. I was stumped, in addition to being more a little dazed from the events of the last two weeks. Often I follow his thoughts seamlessly, but not this morning.

We left Calgary on October 30, with the car and the cat. After a visit with my parents, and making sure that the cat was cozy at their house, we carried on to Minneapolis, where we visited more family and friends and prepared to find a place to live in Houston.

Mom's Cookies

Canadian Thanksgiving

The second Monday in October is Canadian Thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday; it is only food, family, friends, gratitude and relaxing, in equal and copious amounts.  This was our second Thanksgiving in Canada, and the second time we were invited into the home of Canadians to share the holiday.  I was pleased, and grateful.  There was a ton of food and copious amounts of laughter.  The meal included turkey, potatoes, cranberry sauce, salads and pumpkin pie, just as it would be at home.  We also had an amazing pear crisp, and peanut butter and chocolate cupcakes, among other treats.  We have heard a rumor that these friends may be able to join us for the American version of the holiday later this fall, so our fingers are crossed.

August : Pickles, Pickled