The Trivial Pursuit of Happiness

On the blog title:

A couple people have asked me what “The Trivial Pursuit of Happiness”  is supposed to mean, under the assumption that I gave it much thought before I hopped on the wordpress bandwagon and got myself a little ol’ blog. In reality, I thought of it one night and it made me giggle, so tada, blog title. If pressed, I guess I would say it alludes to the fact that I have spent my entire life reaching for something, anything, other than what I had in front on me, sure that right around the bend I would finally be happy. I was raised a nomad, of the physical and emotional variety, and it has taken me a long time to realize that this constant need for change and chaos was not making me happier.  In the last two years I have started to accept my past, and make it just that. I have also stopped living so much in the future, in my plans, in who I could be. This constant pursuit of happiness is distracting – trivial. What ‘s more is that, given the chance, I am pretty darn happy right here in this moment, with my family and myself.

And a few random links to distract you from the fact that I have been neglecting my little  bloggy blog blog:

Another girl’s wrap dress pattern, of which I have 12 and really do not need more. But ohhh they are cute.  I think I’ll start on this tonight.

How to fold a fitted sheet. The only person I know who can do this is Angie, because she worked at a hotel for a week. I thought she was magic when she told me she could do this. Now I can too (if I were so inclined. Which I’m not.)

It seems like every time I turn around, someone is suggesting I look into this school. Tom and I are creating a new 5 year plan, and this is in the “Can we make it work?” column.

Letterboxing – for those of us who arn’t cool enough to Geocache. (Is that a verb yet?)

God I love Fall. I love light sweaters and layers and socks and turning on the furnace and pumpkin spice everything. I almost bought a pumpkin at Safeway yesterday, but stopped myself because I know I have no time to carve it right now, but man, just the idea of pumpkin seeds gets me all atwitter. I love wearing brown and green and weaving leaves into my messy hippie hair. I love that the ground goes crunch, and that I can see my breath in the morning, but that by noon I can dare wear sandals and a t-shirt. I know there are places where it is summer year round, and winter year round, but where oh where is it Fall year round?

The play, and the entire birth fair*, was overwhelming, in every sense of the word. We had an overwhelming turnout (nearly twice what we were expecting, prompting a mad dash to steal chairs from neighboring rooms and ending up with people sitting in the aisles and standing all around the edges); I was overwhelmed by the support from every direction – friends, my little family, 200+ strangers all thanking me for putting my heart into something that feels so solitary sometimes. It renews my passion, and comforts me to know that even in my small, fairly conservative area, there are people of every walk of life, age, and gender that believes that this IS important – mothers are important. I was also overwhelmed physically, which is something I need to stop doing. I don’t know why I am so stubborn about accepting my limits, but now that the hard push is over (we have one smaller showing next week, without the fair/publicity) I am looking forward to being fat and lazy until December. Because we all know that I will be still and not take on a thousand more projects right? Ha.

(*Link is to the article in the local paper that sometimes lets you read for free, and sometimes is a jerk and asks for a subscription #. If you search from their homepage (birth play) you can usually read. )

Sarah, over at Deliberately Random Thoughts, linked to the new Iron and White cd that is free for listening over at Myspace right now. Ella and I are rocking out, as much as you can to slide guitars and soft spoken men named Sam. Which is to say: hard.

Cricket definitely dropped, or changed position, and my belly is suddenly a completely different shape, and my body is not very happy about it. My hips burn, I had a few days of mean contractions, and now I am just not sure where my center of gravity is. Oh parenthood – just when you think you have any of it figured out, they remind you that you are not in control.

I wish I had the motivation to use our free-flight-rights right now, since in about a month it will be too late for me to fly anywhere, but the idea of traveling with Ella, while pregnant, makes me so tired. Plus, we are really trying to live off of just when we are bringing in (rather than cashing out stocks since we have weaseled those down at an alarming rate, and would like to save a least some to pay for all this damn schooling we still plan) and renting a car, paying for food, etc, is just not in the budget. Hopefully Tom keeps this job until next summer, because by then baby will be old enough to put down for 10 minutes, and Ella (hopefully) be a bit easier to communicate with. And damn do I want to go see things outside of Spokane.

Enough randomness. I need to clean up this house and get things together to go to Knit Club in a while. And change a diaper, since Ella is yelling “Yuck! Yuck! Ewwwwwwww!” which can only mean one thing. Motherhood – so glamorous.

The Spokane Birth event will be held TODAY (Saturday, Sept. 22) at Spokane Falls community College from 1:00 to 5:00. The play will be held at 2pm, with a Birth Fair between 1 and 5.

Tickets are $5 ; kids are welcome and free!

Come! I will update later about it all, and you know, LIFE since I have been neglecting this little blog, but for now I am just chewing on my fingernails and wondering where my shoes are. Eap!

A list, because today starts another adventure in single-parenting (thank god only until Wednesday afternoon) and I can’t spare the effort to make narratives out of these:

This makes me sad. Not only because 41 countries in the world have better infant mortality rates than we do, but that so many countries are struggling with this problem.  It has been shown again and again that the health of the mother, the education level of the mother, and the mother’s access to trained birth attendants are key to an infant’s chances of survival, but still mothers (and women in general) are treated as an afterthought in so many of these countries. There is so much reform that needs to be done in the world, but here is what I am passionate about, so you all get to hear about it again.

Nooooooooooooooooooooo. *shudder*  Seriously, as if I needed one more thing to lay awake at night thinking of.

I bought a like-new Arms Reach cosleeper, with extra sheets, the canopy and the little feet ($250 new) for $25 today off craigslist. I WIN at the internet.

Our day started at 4am. I do not win at being patient, nice, or chipper when I am tired. In fact, I lose at that.

I have yoga today, and I think I may fall asleep but I don’t care. I neeeeed it.

I worked on Ella’s belly cast last night, for the first time since we made it the day before her due date. I was inspired by a goddess painting I had seen months ago, which I quickly sketched on the plaster and then just started smacking on paint. I am not a painter – I have no delusions of grandeur – but I figured that if I screwed it up, my next plan was to modpodge fabric all over it, which would cover up anything. No harm done.

3 hours later, and I hung it on her wall before she went to bed. It doesn’t look much at all artistically like what I had in mind, but the basic shape is there. Abstract earth goddess surrounding a tree – earth and sky and water all flowing into each other – and I was pleasantly surprised that the “hair” made me think of a placenta, and that a mistaken glop of paint turned into a little breast. I am not convinced it is done, but I am to the point that I know if I mess with it more, I will just end up ruining it, so for now, it is finished. I uploaded the pictures this morning (an admittedly rough one around here) and then left the house for rehearsal, errands, groceries, and the park.

When I got home, I clicked through my usual links – hotmail, gmail, yahoomail, LJ, Flickr – and saw that Jen had commented on one of the cast pictures. “This got me kinda choked up. I am sure you intended this, but it looks like 2 LimaBeans.” Actually I had not meant to do this, and more so, that I don’t really know how to talk about this anymore.

The fact version of the story is this: Ella was a twin, though her womb mate disappeared early on. They say it is very common (1 in 8 pregnancies start as twins), though we are only now realizing it with the advanced, routine ultrasounds done. We didn’t know about baby #2 until after it was already reabsorbing, and at that time we were so excited to hear that we still have one healthy baby (who looked like a lima bean, and was thus nicknamed), that the baby disappearing was easy to overlook.

The emotional version of this story is harder to tell, mostly because it is still so murky. Medical records are easy to read, scars are harder. I’ve never really mourned that possible child – not only did it feel like it would somehow overshadow the joy of Ella, but also because I’m not sure how much grief I am entitled to. Yes, I lost a child, but I still came out the other end a mother. The fear and sorrow we went through in that week when we thought we had lost the pregnancy all together (before a last minute ultrasound showed one beating heart and one still one, where before we had seen nothing) was so intense, that the relief that we shared was total. I can’t imagine living that reality longer than a week, so I can’t say I’ve shared in other’s miscarriage pain. I just moved on, because I had so much to move towards.

But it would be a lie to say that I do not think about that child often, that I don’t daydream about two little towheaded girls, that I’m not hoping that the foot in my ribs is a little girl’s foot, to somehow fill that space I can not admit I am hovering around. So the fact that Jen was able to see something in the painting that I did not intend to be there (two lima beans, one with a little bright light, one without), but that I am so glad is, gets me a little choked up also.

A short list of things I thought about writing a blog about, and maybe will, but not today. Today is for fair food and listening to the 13 unheard voicemails I have from this morning. (Not joking. One bit.)

• How I love that Birth is about not only about empowering and healing women, but also about healing the rift between women – I get so sick of being pegged as militant and self righteous when I talk about our birth choices, when really, I just want to talk about this amazing experience we should all be in awe of! The play has so much potential to unite women, to start a discussion (not a war!) and to build a community, but again and again I find that people want to make it into drama. Go see it. Come see it in Spokane. Let me know what you think – am I being overly romantic about what is possible?
• I’ve been thinking about all inclusive newborn stage, where you slog through on three hours of sleep, you eat anything that is set in front of you, and (as much as you love your child) you start to wonder why exactly you wanted them out so badly. You get through it because you know one day it will end, and you will have the time and space to be yourself again – what if you did not have that? What if you did not know that all the hard work you were doing every day would ever help, or if you would ever feel like yourself(not just someone’s mom) again? I have friends who have disabled children (of all sorts and severities) and it’s exhausting imagining how they just.keep.doing.it. without the promise that life will ever, ever get easier. They hope, they pray, they just keep on doing what they can. My respect for their determination, and their seemingly unending ability to make the best of the day, is overwhelming at times. I am lucky to have them in my life.
• I changed my name this week – I have a new ID, a new social security card, and have been giving out my new name in interviews for the play. I didn’t think I would be as nonchalant about it, since for years my sister and I said “My husband will marry me, not adopt me” but the attachment I had to my old last name (which is now filling my previously empty middle name spot) ended a long time ago. The threads that connect me to my past feel less vital than they used to, and I am okay letting them go lax. The hardest part was making up a new signature in the 15 seconds I was given while getting a new ID (oh, and learning that no one is ever going to pronounce my name correctly again. Booo. )
• That said, how to I post news articles about the play, to my public blog, without giving away my full name? Should I care? Am I being paranoid, or realistic?
• My brother’s birthday is in a few weeks and I am reminded of how much I wish I could be a part of his life. I just keep telling myself that he knows to call me if he is in real trouble, but every few months I panic. I just can’t help it. He’s my brother, plain and simple.
• I am thinking about going back to Oklahoma next spring (when baby is old enough to travel with, and Tom can get a few days off) to see family, and also pick up my mom’s ashes, if they are still in the black plastic box where I left them (with her boyfriend.) The entire prospect make me vibrate, and for all I know they have long since been spread (though I heard about a year ago that they were still there), but it will be 6 years ago this November. I think I am ready.
• And because everyone else was doing it: My career matches
  1. Anthropologist
  2.  Historian
  3. Desktop Publisher
  4. Cartoonist / Comic Illustrator
  5. Animator
  6. Costume Designer
  7. Set Designer
  8. Artist
  9. Writer
  10. Website Designer

So basically, the internet agrees that I should just be a poor, artsy geek forever. Yeah, thats pretty much what I’ve been going for.

Want to do it too?
Go to www.careercruising.com.
Put in Username: nycareers, Password: landmark.
Take their “Career Matchmaker” questions.

I’m totally not going to jinx myself by saying that I think PukeFest 2007 is over. Not gonna do it. I will say that we all slept 12 hours last night, plus 3 or 4 naps each during the day, and once since we woke up today, which was wonnnderful. I *heart* sleep.

So, in non-pukey news, we decided on names for the baby today.

Or rather, Ella decided on names. Tom and I compiled our top names, let Ella hold the marker, and tada – Alice Carolyn, and Thomas Samuel. Joey (Ella’s surprising addition) and Hiro (From Heroes) were both jokes, so thankfully she did not pick those. She was pretty deliberate about her choices, picking Samuel three times, and Alice over and over and over, so I think it’s a go. We still have 3 months (crap, I just counted that out and nearly had a heart attack) so I suppose it could change, but I really like these names. All of them have real significance to us, and are the classic kinds of names we want for the kids. I love my name now, but grew up resenting the fact that people either thought I was lying when I told them my name (especially when I told them my sister’s name also – Chance and Ivory? Are you strippers?) or they would snicker. Yes, like the soap. And the elephant tusks. And the piano keys. And the Coast. No, you are not original or funny. Yes, my parents were hippies. What of it? I will still probably call the baby “Cricket”for now, since every day I change my mind on what I think the baby is (not a puppy!) but having names makes it all a little more real. Sure, I have a foot in my lungs, but now the foot has a name.

After picking the names, Dread Pirate Bluemouth suddenly realized that she better turn up the cute, because with a name like Alice, this kid may be some competition.

Ya’ll, I think I have the bird flu.

Or rather the
“Come on universe, I just stopped throwing up from morning sickness, do I really need to be reminded how bad my stomach acid tastes?” flu. I guess in terms of kharma, making light of a disease that has killed people doesn’t get me any higher up the “deserves not to spend her weekend puking into a bowl while her daughter rubs Jergens in her hair” ranks, huh?

Tom will be home until 2 or so, and then after that I am hoping Pam can watch Ella for a while. I love my kid, but she is officially better, and there is no way I am keeping up with her, puke bowl in one hand, woe in the other. Being the sick mother of a healthy toddler = so much fun, I won’t even talk about it, because I know it will just make you jealous. And I’m kind like that. (Hear that kharma? I’m nice! Don’t let my stomach eat itself!)

Edited to add: Guess who I thought was feeling better today, but has started puking again?  Ella! Today is going to be awesome! (At least now she wants to curl up on the couch with me and not move).

Ella is slowly coming back from the pukeyside, (like the darkside, except with more vomit), and we have spent 70% of the day snuggled up on the couch together, watching TV. In fact,that is how we also spent our night, and how I imagine tonight may go also. The good news is that there is no fever, just a lethargic, moody, pukey girl. Only after I posted to a mom’s group I belong to did someone tell me that “Oh yeah, that is going around” which would have been good to know at 2am when Ella gagged for 20 minutes straight. At that point, I was wondering if I had accidentally poisoned her with the pasta she had for lunch, or maybe her stomach had lost it’s mucus lining was eating itself, or maybe she had leukemia. Or MAYBE her mom is a hypochondriac. Turns out that it is just a badbellybug that all the kids are spreading around, and I am hoping I don’t start puking in the next day or two. At least I know how to stay calm though – poor Ella panics every time because OMG her guts all just came out.

And just to make her life a little more miserable, we went to an already scheduled doctor’s appointment, to have her teeth looked at.  And (dun dun dunnnn) she has some decay on a few of her teeth. We brush two or three times a day (and I always hold her down to actually get any real cleaning done after she is finished sucking the toddler toothpaste out of her toothbrush) but apparently she is blessed with thin, crappy teeth like her mom. Who, BTW, chipped off the side of another tooth last week, and has been too lazy to even make an appointment with her dentist because GAH, what the hell teeth, all of you just fall out already.

Her Dr. (who leans towards nonintervention and homeopathic methods 95% of the time) recommended we do a fluoride varnish every few months, and that I also talk to her dentist about fluoride drops. Which made me squirm, because, um, Ella doesn’t have a dentist. Should she? Crap. I lose at motherhood again. I asked for his recommendation, and made an appointment as soon as we got home, so off to the dentist we go on Monday. I really hope starting her early will help her avoid the problems I’ve had with my teeth (and with my dentist anxiety).

And just to remind myself that my daughter is not always a mess of vomit and sticky teeth, a picture of her yesterday morning, before the badbellybug moved in. I am slowly collecting a “Dress up box” and this is the princess dress that she would not take off yesterday.

Run little princess run, your big bad mama is going to make you go to the dentist!

I am going to steal a tag from Citymama, which I wish I would have started years ago. In a lot of ways, blogs (and their paper counterparts) have been a long list of “Things I Want to Remember”. I have a horrible memory (it’s accepted in my family that I will steal other people’s memories, because I can’t remember if they are really mine, or if I just heard someone tell the story…) and there have been so many moments in my life that I have let slip past. This sensation is so strong with Ella – Every day it seems like she does something that I want to be able to tell her about in 15 years (aka: tell her friends and embarrass her) but I know that if i don’t write it down, it’s bound to be lost in my “Wait, was that a movie?” pile. So, the first official “Things I want to remember:”

How when, after puking for the first time in your life, you looked at me, wide eyes and scared, and said “Mama?!” and reached for me. Earlier today you ignored me for almost two hours to play with your friends, and I couldn’t help but feel rejected. Even as I felt the sting, I knew how ridiculous it was that I was hurt, but still – you are my little buddy, my best pal. I am used to you begging for all of my attention, so when you could not wait to get rid of me, I made myself laugh it off. Just a flesh wound, right?

Well, it turns out one of those little boogery friends of yours gave you a bad bug, and you have not stopped throwing up since 6pm. Right now you are sleeping on the couch with a receiving blanket under your head (we have run out of towels) but I know it will not be long until you wake up mid-gag, again. Each time, you cling to me, sobbing between gags, and suddenly you are my tiny child again, and my heart both aches to watch you feel so miserable, but it also does a little dance, because you are my baby and you need me.