The Trivial Pursuit of Happiness

I wonder what I would find if I were to chart my emotions and energy for a month. Is it just Thursdays that send me for a tail spin, or is it 2pm? The last week of a month? Does it have to do with the moon, or how the stars are aligned, or whether I’ve had my spinach today? I slept decently last night, got laid, ate breakfast, had coffee, saw friends, the girls are both sleeping, and it’s all I can do not to lay down and have a pity party. What is the deal?

For the record, today is a 4 for emotional, and a 5 for energy.  Out of 100.

Maybe that will be my theme for NaBloPoMo.

Oh hey guys! I thought it was getting too quiet around here, what with the fever going down and all, so I decided to develop a crazy rash! It’s totally from the antibiotics, so you know my mom flipped out, right? Look at me, do I look like I’m turning blue any time soon? Nah, I’m good. It was a lot worse this morning, and oh it itches, but as long as I’m in the sling, the only part of me I can rip at with my razor fingers is my head. Or my mom’s arm! That’s fun too.

Also, check out my teeth. Two on the bottom, and one of my front teeth AND a side tooth! I decided getting all my front teeth first was too mainstream, and I’m a rebel baby! Rarr!

Hehe.

Not familiar with WordGirl and Captain Huggy Face? You’re not alone – they are new on PBS kids, and taught Ella the words enormous, absurd and hullabaloo. Ella chose what to be (it was close between this and a robot) so a thrift store trip and $10 worth of polar fleece later, I have literary super heros. It is regularly below freezing on Halloween here, so costumes that don’t need to be bundled under a huge coat are a plus. I still have changes to make, but i can’t get Ella out of her costume, so they will have to wait.

Today has been… well, I imagine you know how today has been. Depending on how long it’s been since Alice’s last dose of medicine, she’s either been really great, or really really sick. We jump back and forth between normal silly baby and floppy burning baby. Thankfully Tom has a new shift where he is home at 9:30 am, so even when the girls wake up at 5:30, the hours we are alone together are limited (granted that Tom is not working second shift at his other job). Today he come home, took Ella to music class, and Alice napped on my back while I finished her halloween costume. It was a nice little break, even though my back was burning by the time she woke up.

The Children’s Emergency Center last night was better than I expected, and worse. We didn’t have to wait at all, the nurses were great, and the exam rooms were above par. But within twenty minutes of walking in the door, we saw two different doctors who disagreed on almost every point. One was worried to the point of wanting an IV and chest xrays, and the other was pushing us out the door with a pat on the head. I couldn’t decide which approach I disliked more – being treated like I was an idiot for bringing her in, or being treated like an idiot for not bringing her in sooner. It didn’t do much for my confidence in either of them, but when we were given the option to either come home or stay in a different wing of the hospital than the children’s center, I chose to bring her home. I made the right decision – she is eating and drinking today, and her fever is breaking every few hours – but the whole episode reinforced that chip in my shoulder.

I started writing out the handful of times I’ve been to the hospital in the last 10 years, but it just made me anxious and snarly. And tonight is not about that. Tonight is about Almond Sunset tea, knitting birthday crown #2, and catching up on Heros while Alice sleeps in my lap. Motherhood: trying not to burn the baby with hot tea while you knit and watch predictable TV. Pretty much sums it up I guess.

Well poop. I’m not one to panic over a high temp, but after consulting with our pediatrician a couple times today (even though he is out of town, love him) we agree that we’re going to take Alice down to the Children’s Emergency Center. We can’t get her temp down with medication any more, and she is lethargic to the point of floppy, and she’s not nursing. I’ll try and update from my phone over on twitter.

Edit: Home now, I’ll update on the details later, but she’s okay. Double ear infection, possible lung infection and the beginning of a nasty eye infection, but okay. The dr’s dissagreed about whether to keep her overnight (for temps/dehydration), but they were out of kid’s rooms and I didn’t really want to stay in the general wards, so we took a handful of prescriptions and promised to come back if she doesn’t improve/gets worse. Poor kid.

Day in bullets:

• Wake up too damn early, Tom already gone, and two little girls poking my eyes.
• No time for a shower
• Coffee coffee coffee
• Sew, bake, make messes
• Alice on my back, Ella watching PBS Sit and Be Fit
• Work work work, coffee.
• Tom home, going back to work.
• Baby shower, yay!
• Tired, love Hulu.
• Nurse Alice and her mouth burns my nipple. 103? Crap.
• Call Dr at 8pm on a Saturday and hear back from him in 5 minutes. Talked down.
• Tom home and exhausted, Ella wound up, Alice sad. Mama needs more coffee.

I’m in a community online that is centered around Attached Parenting (AP), and there has recently been a lot of discussion of what exactly AP is. To many of us, it is a huge umbrella term, that contains many many parenting techniques, but is centered around a firm belief that a child’s needs are just as valid, and worthy of respect, as our own. That doesn’t sound so hard, right? In my life that has manifested in looking at Tom and our girls as my teammates, all working towards a goal. It’s not my needs vs. their needs (or rather, fitting their needs into my life) but that we all need each other, and that we have to find a balance. Some days that balance is off, and I vent here. But most days, I know that we are better together than we are apart, and that is an amazing feeling.

Others have a more narrow version of what AP is, and it is defined by actions, not intentions. Cosleeping, babywearing, breastfeeding, natural birthing – it’s a checklist that some people feel can define a parenting style. I’m not so sure. I see these things as a means to an end, a way to bond further with your child, so that you can understand where they are coming from at 2am when they are screaming and you have to ask yourself – ‘Do I get angry because my need for sleep isn’t being met, or do I act compassionately, because they have a need that they can not meet on their own?’ AP to me is about being introspective about parenting, instead of reactionary. Do I think that children who are bottlefed, sleep in cribs, go to daycare, and are pushed in a stroller can be securely attached to their parents, and that their parents can be amazing, compassionate people? Abso-freeking-lutely. I know some amazing parents have made these choices, and while they may not be cosleepers, they are the kind of parents that I envy. They are willing to jump over the obstacles and create and maintain that bond with their child, and really, isn’t that the point?

A does not equal B. There are so many shades of gray, and jumping to the conclusion that you are “that” kind of mom, based on a cursury glance of someone’s life is unfair, and ugly. I listen to my children, I react with thought and care, and I am working to help them become the best them they can be. I am not all sacrificing, I am not a push over, and I am not going for the mom of the year award. I have screamy mom days, and I have made huge mistakes (already!). But I take this job seriously, and i am trying every day to be the best mom I can be. And if that takes the form of extended breastfeeding, awesome. If not, I know my girls are well loved and are thriving despite it.

I keep revising this post, because it’s just getting more cluttered, but I guess this is just to say that I know many of you do not make the same choices that I do, but that I hope you know that I’m not one of those people with their clipboard, grading you on where your child sleeps, what diaper you use, or what parenting guru you attach yourself to. I’m watching you, amazed that you are doing this job with grace, humility and passion. I am inspired by you, I am supporting you, I am hoping that 2 am comes and goes quickly. Your child is lucky to have you, and so am I.

That happy, caffeinated span on time between inhaling a 16oz pumpkin latte and an enormous fudge brownie, and the ensuing crash, is almost worth it.

Almost.

Some friends and I are hosting a baby shower for another friend this weekend, and while we all cringe at the idea of shower games, we did agree that the baby picture game would be fun. basically, everyone brings a photo of themselves as a baby, and they are tacked up without names. The object is to guess who is who based on squishy cheeks and tuffs of hair, but really, I just love the idea that all of these people I know – smart, funny, passionate, adult people – were babies. They were born, they wanted to be held, they wore ridiculous outfits. They were rocked to sleep, and they fell down a lot before they stood upright. It’s easier to be patient with my friends when I remember that they started out so small. That sounds mocking, but it’s not. There is something awe inspiring that we all survived that mewing cat stage of life, and seeing photos of the people you cherish as children is a keen reminder that we are all growing and learning – nothing is static.

And besides, the game gives me an opportunity to pull out photo boxes and look at myself as a baby, and come on, you know you love doing that. Or, maybe I’m just extra narcissistic. Either way, I sat on the floor of my craft room tonight, flipping through my baby book, showing every other picture to Tom (and bestowing important information, such as: “We had this couch until I was 7. It was the scratchiest tweed on earth”) and came across a photo I love:

The date on the back is June 1983, so I was a month old or so.

I don’t know if I can explain why this photo moves me the way it does. Maybe it’s an experience you have to have to understand, but for me, nursing my girls has been one of the simplest, most honest forms of love that I have ever felt. Even in those hard months after Alice’s birth, when I just wanted to disappear, I could still find moments of peace, laying with her, feeling the earth spin around us, a perfect pair. Ella nursed until she was nearly two, and those mornings when we would sit together, her legs straddling my enormous belly, her humming while she nursed (a funny habit that she had, which we called ‘An ode to Boob’) – those are the moments I draw on when I wonder where this sassy little girl came from. I remember her nursing, eyes shut, happiest there in my arms.

My mother thought that this moment was beautiful enough to capture, and slip into my baby book. Seeing this photo, I suddenly realize that I was a baby once, and my mother looked down on me with that same love that I feel when I look down at my girls nursing.

And it’s so much easier to be patient with myself when I remember this.

ps – This is the photo I am using for the guessing game. That’s the scratchy couch in the background.

Check out these plates!

I’m still bummed about the craptacular lettering, but that’s an ongoing pityparty thing – boo hoo, my handwriting is horrible. It must be a pretty good life when the things that keep me awake at night include my handwriting, right?

The yarn (in peacock and dusty rose) is for birthday crowns, which will be felted, and will hopefully be sturdier than previous crowns. I want to needle felt an A and an E onto them, and then somehow add to the crowns each year to mark their birthdays. My first instinct is charms (photo or decorative?), but that may get cluttered. Needle felted dots don’t feel significant enough, though maybe I could embroider something meaningful onto them each year. Hmm. Again, if these are the things that I dwell on, I really can’t complain.

PS – I had my first “Hey, you’re Ivory, I read your blog!” moment today, and thankfully it was someone that I have been looking forward to meeting, and know through other channels. It was kind of surreal though. People actually read this thing? Heh. It was nice to meet you C, and such luck that we would both be in the same place at the same time!