Category: It IS all about me

I went on a bit of a bender after Christmas. A shopping bender. A clothes-shopping bender. It felt sooooo good! Not only were there amazing deals to be had (I didn’t pay more than 50% of ticket price on anything) but I was shopping for a size I haven’t worn since before any of the babies were born. I’m down more than 25 lbs since August, and down more than two jean sizes! Every time I tried on a pair of pants, I did it with trepidation, expecting to find a size 12 way too tight — and in some cases, I even found it was too loose. Yay me!!

I took full advantage of the Boxing Day sales, and in three quick trips spent about $275 on new clothes, but with deals like $19.99 for a $78 pair of Gap tuxedo pants, and $11 for a $65 Jones New York skirt, I’m sure I ended up with about $600 worth of clothes.

After more than two years of buying clothes based on a sole criterion (does it fit enough to keep me decent?) it was pure bliss to be buying things because they were pretty, or funky, or just felt really good. And buying actual outfits instead of trying to make random impulse purchases fit with what I already own. I ended up with three skirts, four pairs of pants, a blazer, a couple of blouses and sweaters and even a pair of kicky little ankle boots. I tell you, it was like living my own personal episode of What Not to Wear!!

The problem, of course, is that I didn’t have Stacey and Clinton to right my fashion wrongs. I *think* I did okay, but there are some fashion questions that continue to escape me. Perhaps you, the wise and wonderful bloggy peeps, can help?

For example, the kicky little ankle boots: can I wear them with a skirt? I have both a narrow little skirt that falls to a bit above my knee and a fuller skirt with a flare that falls just to the knee. Can I wear the short boots with that, or do I need calf-high boots for that?

And since I’ve got your attention, what about jewelery? If I’m wearing gold-tone earrings, do I have to wear a gold-tone in my necklace and/or bracelet? And is earrings plus a necklace plus a bracelet too much? Oy, I’m so bad at this!

And what about makeup? Am I supposed to match my eye shadow colour to what I’m wearing, or can I wear the same purple-to-grey cool palate with warmer oranges and browns?

Ugh, you can see I need some serious intervention! I’m actually excited about going back to work, just so I can wear my fancy new duds, but I don’t want to look too much like a fashion “don’t” as I step outside my comfort zone!

The problem with extended absences from the blog is all the posts I want to write that get tangled up in my head, so when I actually do get a couple of minutes to string together, I’m bloggily constipated. Too much to say, not sure where to begin!

It’s been a rough couple of days week, roughly surmized by Lucas’s first ear infection, followed by a 72-hour stomach virus on my part, which I politely shared in a milder version with Beloved and Lucas. Babies and stomach viruses are not a pretty pair, and that’s all I’ll say about that. And that baby of mine who slept through the night starting around (bless his little heart) around two months old is making up for it now, waking in the neighbourhood of six to eight times a night. Let’s just say that stomach viruses and sleep deprivation are another couple nobody wants to see together anymore.

Because I can’t get my mind to gel on any of the eight or nine other blog posts that I’ve been gestating between trips down the hall to sooth Lucas back to sleep, I’ll just take a minute to say this: where exactly did my baby go? It’s hard to believe it’s only been two weeks since school let out for Christmas break, because Lucas is simply not the same baby he was back then. He learned to crawl last month, and now cruises the furniture with ease. He’s got this bright-eyed awareness and curiousity about everything that’s nothing short of delicious. He’s relentless in the pursuit of what he wants, and adorable in his frustration when vexed. He wants nothing more than to get into whatever trouble his big brothers are in to, which is in equal measures charming and terrifying. And speaking of terrifying, he’d been crawling less than a month the first time he crawled all the way — with supervision, of course — to the very top of the stairs. Lord help us. He shows no interest whatsover in baby TV like Baby Einstein and the like, but loves to stand up and poke at the TV while the rest of the family plays Big Brain Academy on the Wii. And his very favourite thing right now is books, bless his little heart.

And even though Beloved is doing an admirable job of trying to distract him, in the time I’ve written this much I’ve had him climbing up my leg to “help” me blog at least three times, so I think it’s time to cut this short.

Just a quick second to squeeze in a couple of milestone acknowledgements, though. Happy 40th birthday to my dear friend Yvonne, the first of many of our crew who will hit this historic milestone this year. May the next 40 be twice as much fun!

And congratulations to Jojo and Jaimie, who welcomed their baby son Max into the world yesterday. I know Amelia would have preferred a girl for a sibling, but I can tell you from experience, Amelia, that brothers are truly a miracle. Kisses to all of you, to be redeemed in person when I’m sure I’m germ-free!

Finally, for family far away and anybody else who wants to peek, I put up some pictures from Christmas on Flickr.

Of all the things about having a baby in the house, I think the thing that has been the toughest is the intensity of it — the absolute lack of time for anything that isn’t caring for the baby, or making dinner, or doing laundry, or tidying up, or somehow caring for the bigger boys. The simple lack of time. I remember back before the baby was born, on the days when I wasn’t working I’d take a nap in the afternoon and then come downstairs and have a wee snack on the couch while I read a couple of chapters of my book. I think back to those times with a kind of wonder. Did I really have that much spare time to myself? How did I do it? Where did that time come from and more importantly, where did it go and when for the love of god will it come back?

I feel that lack of down time, lack of “me” time, even more acutely right now when I look at my collection of holiday crafts through the years. When we decorated the house for Christmas, out came samples of all my little crafty projects: handmade stockings, several different kinds of ornaments, folk-art painted wood decorations, handmade candles, little fridge-magnet marbles with cutouts from old Christmas cards… I love crafty stuff at the best of times, but I really feel the absence of being able to do any of this stuff this year. I was part of a cookie exchange this year and finding the time to make 10 dozen cookies nearly killed me, whereas I’d normally make shortbread and peanut brittle gifts for all of my family and many of my friends without breaking a sweat, and had time to make homemade holiday crafts on my own and with the boys. I’m not sure if it’s the “factor of three” or if it’s just that Lucas is a particularly demanding baby — especially now that he’s officially crawling and terrorizing all of us! — but there is simply no time that isn’t filled to overflowing with rather uninspiring domestica, and an undone to-do list of rather epic proportions. The list is an odd mix of things I must and want to do: everything from clean the toilets and organize the closet to back up the blog and paint our bedroom. Every day is a triage of what absolutely cannot wait one more day to be done.

My life is very full right now, in the best possible way. I truly believe that raising these boys, that being a part of this family, is what I have been called to do in life, and I love it. But as recently as a few weeks ago, I also felt completely panicked by the weight of the things that were required of me, the things that ensured I had only a handful of minutes every day to do what I absolutely had to do to keep my sanity: peck out a few e-mails and a blog post, or run to the gym.

I’m trying to feel more philosophical about it now, to remember that some day I’ll look back on these days with nostalgic longing. I try to keep in mind that Lucas’s babyness is already escaping, his toddlerhood looming, even though he’s only been with us for a breath or two. I cast my mind back to Baby Simon and Baby Tristan, lo those many — but so few! — years ago, to remember that I probably felt this way then, and yet I survived to tell the tale.

But as I walked through the craft store yesterday, casting a greedy eye on row after row of project ideas, I felt the weight of that physical need for time and space. I made those marble magnets two years ago, when Simon would have been coming up on three and Tristan almost five. So I know that by the time Lucas is three, in just a couple of brief years from now, I will have managed enough balance in my life to find that creative space again. I might even pick up a book in the afternoons, one of these days.

I think it was Mad Hatter who once wrote about the tradition of the morning-after the emotional outburst post with far more humour and eloquence than I am likely to attain here today. If I thought I’d have more than a minute or two here, I’d go find it. What is it about bleating your anxiety out into the interwebs that seems to release the pressure building up in your brain? The hangover from an emotional drunk always leaves me feeling vaguely silly but hugely refreshed.

I knew when I was posting my little pity party last night that I would likely feel better by this morning, and I almost didn’t press the “publish” button for that exact reason. (Some weeks, I delete more than I post!) But, I am so glad I did. It never fails to amaze me how a little “oh, me too” or even a simple “there, there” makes things seem so much easier to bear. More than a dozen comments and e-mails in less than twelve hours? I don’t feel nearly so alone anymore, and that’s a blessing indeed. Sincerely, thank you.

It *is* a rough stage, isn’t it? You’d think having been there a couple of times already, I’d’ve remembered that more clearly. Add in a little nanny-search stress (good news on the horizon on that front), a dash of back-to-work anxiety (that one is still freaking me out), and the triumphant return after a blissful nine-month absence of the monthly red menace (is it possible I forgot how annoying THAT one could be, too?), and I guess I can cut myself a little slack.

It means so much to me that you are all still out there, and so quick with a word of kindness. This is blogging at it’s finest, and why I keep doing it when maybe I should be doing something more productive to prepare for the pending arrival of our weekend houseguests, Marla and Josephine. Hey, if that doesn’t brighten up a week — heck, a whole month! — I don’t know what would!!

Gah. In the middle of a bit of a storm here, emotionally speaking. Feeling some kind of emotional flu, desperate and frustrated and overwhelmed. Really think that if I could just get some of this crap out of my head, I’d feel much better, but I can’t get 10 minutes to myself anywhere, let alone at the keyboard. That is 99.8% of the problem, to be honest. While I wouldn’t trade my life in a minute, I sure wish I had some fresh air right now. I have not been out of arms reach of my beautiful baby for more than 35 minutes in the past five days. Literally. He gets up when I get up, only naps in short bursts after much rocking, and now wakes up shortly after he goes to bed again. He only settles if I’m in the bed beside his cradle. It’s making me more than a little squirrelly, let alone snappish, which makes me feel guilty, which makes me feel ashamed, which makes me whiney, which makes me unpleasant to be around. Yanno?

It doesn’t last forever. It doesn’t last forever. He’ll be young for such a very short time. This will not last forever, and some day I’ll look back and wonder what my problem was. But right now, I wish I could breathe.