Me Time

One of my New Year's Resolutions was to spend more time doing the things I want to do. I am rocking at this and it is improving my life immensely. A big part of this, of course, is spending less time doing things I don't want to do. One thing I don't want to do is use the computer as a time-killer. I love spending time online, of course: catching up on my blogroll, checking Facebook, goofing around with various other stuff. BUT there is a big difference between intentional computer time and the scenario I find myself in all too often, which is that I fall back on websurfing and email-refreshing for a couple of hours instead of finding something that would actually satisfy my need for mental stimulation. Walk away from the computer and go put on a movie, for Pete's sake.

Another thing I need to back off from is my volunteer work at the church. This is a challenge because the other members of Church Council have learned a dangerous fact about me: I am competent. As such, I am the one who gets called on to do all kinds of stuff. Just last week a fellow Council member, a very pushy one at that, called and asked me to take on a large task. Now, I agree that this task needs to be done. And I know I would be good at it. But as she described it, I also knew that I would find it entirely unpleasant, and that the methods she was suggesting for completing it would make me completely miserable. I was also struggling to think when I could possibly fit it in. And then it occurred to me! An idea so brilliant that I was almost blinded by its stunning radiance as it burst into my mind. I said, "No."

Have you ever done this? I swear, I was almost high afterwards. Chris was sitting right next to me and I bragged to him about it afterwards. "Did you hear me? I SAID NO! She asked me to do something that totally isn't my job, and I said no. IT CAN BE DONE!" I was just itching for someone else to ask for something so I could turn them down.

So, what have I been doing that I enjoy? A few things. I signed up for a Belly Dancing class. We've only had one session so far and it was pretty disappointing, primarily because the music was too loud and the teacher far too quiet for any of the students to hear a damn thing. I'm trying to keep an open mind for the second session tonight, though. I have also been spending some serious quality time (ha) in front of my TV, making my way through the boxed set of Kids in the Hall that I purchased with Christmas money in the Boxing Week sales. I'm really enjoying the show and the special features that give so much insight as to how the show was created - it's an icon of my youth, really.

Probably my biggest time expenditure at the moment, however, has been my foray into cardmaking. You may recall that last year I made Valentine's Day cards, ostensibly from Gwen, for her family members, and I decided to carry that tradition on this year. When I did it last year, I had no idea what I was doing, and no real plan, but I had hoped to improve for this year. A couple of weeks ago, I happened to hear on the radio (yay! Listening to the local station finally pays off!) that a rubber-stamping store was having a grand opening which included a make-and-take card workshop. I thought this would be a great opportunity to learn ... well, anything, since I had pretty much no knowledge to begin with.

I went to the workshop and did something that is very, very unusual for me. I asked questions, lots of them. I drew all kinds of attention to the fact that I am a total newbie and know NOTHING about cardmaking: techniques, materials, tools, lingo, and so on. I’m a blank slate! Usually I am so uncomfortable with the image of myself as ignorant that I fake it, not letting anyone know how clueless I am. I am most comfortable with skills I can pick up very quickly, i.e. in less time than it takes for my “fake it till you make it” routine to get discovered. But I really want to get good at cardmaking, so I decided to throw my ego to the wind and actually try to learn something.

The cardmaking workshop was very informative, even though every participant made the exact same card and thus there wasn’t really much creative process involved. Still, I learned things. And then I got the lady who was teaching the workshop to follow me around the store while I asked like a hundred more questions about everything that I saw on the shelves, how it would be used, and so on. IT WAS AWESOME. I came home all happy and full of knowledge. And no one made fun of me for not knowing everything to begin with. Weird.

I’ve said before that I’m pretty crafty but not really creative. I base that on the fact that I don’t actually create one-of-a-kind pieces, but instead follow patterns and end up with the same things that anyone else would if they followed those patterns. With cardmaking, I am forced out of that rut and have to come up with ideas. I have this great magazine full of beautiful cards, and I look through it and find an inspiration and then use that as a starting point for my own cards. I had a great time on Sunday just playing around, making several thank-you cards. There was no need to make them perfect – the point was to try different things and learn how they worked. It was very freeing. I also love that making a card takes an hour or so, while making an embroidery gift takes weeks or months.

This New Year's Resolution is panning out for me bigtime. I am feeling far less rushed and I am really enjoying most of my non-work hours. Chris and I even get to watch movies together sometimes - we don't have an easy time choosing movies that we both like, but that's another problem altogether. I'm really glad that my "free" time is being used more to feed my soul these days.

In which I can make absolutely anything dramatic

At the start of every Mother Goose session is a question that each of the parents are supposed to share their answer to, after introducing themselves and their child. It serves several purposes: in the context of the group, which is about learning songs and stories to share with your kids, it's about being able to speak in front of a group and tell a story. There's also the idea that we all get to know each other a little bit. And, in the case of questions like, "What's your favourite rainy day activity to do with your child?", you might learn some good tips and tricks from other people's answers.

That is the precise question that was asked last week, at our first Mother Goose session (actually, it wasn't the first: I found out once we got there that it had started the week before, but I'd written it down wrong and so we missed the first session altogether. Which is completely unlike me, before or after becoming a mother.). Oh, and by the way, we got there late, so I was already flustered, because I am generally never late. I calmed down by reminding myself that it was a class for parents and toddlers, and that toddlers are notoriously difficult to rush out the door, and that people are pretty damn understanding about running a few minutes late to functions such as this. I was right, too: at least four parent-and-toddler pairs arrived even later than we did.

So, Gwen and I found ourselves a seat in the circle, and the leader asked this question, and then each parent was to introduce themselves and their child and answer the question in turn. I was the third person and I was struck immediately with a cold panic. Favourite rainy day activity? What the hell? I don't have a favourite rainy day activity. It's been raining for five months straight, one day is pretty much like another. Gwen does whatever she wants to do and that's her favourite activity. And I do housework, or schoolwork, or volunteer work, or if I'm lucky I just get to sit on the couch and read my book for a few minutes. What's the weather got to do with anything?

Well, naturally, this quandary made me feel all the more clearly the primary difference between myself and all the other parents in the group. See, it's Friday at 9:30 am. Most working parents are at work, therefore, most people in a Mother Goose class held at that time are not working parents. But I am, because I'm lucky enough to have 3 Fridays a month off and doubly-lucky enough to have found a spot in a Mother Goose class that fits that schedule. But now, here I am .... a working mother .... in a room full of women who are doubtless more dedicated, more self-sacrificing, more attached, more devoted, and more loving than I am. The kind of women who have just dozens of rainy day activities ready to go at the drop of a ... um ... well, a raindrop, naturally.

It wasn't like that, of course. There were a couple of kids there with their grandparents while, presumably, their parents were at work. One kid was there with both her parents, because her mom is a substitute teacher and her dad has Friday mornings off. It was, as usual, all in my head. And still, that question loomed.

I couldn't think of a single thing that had anything to do with rainy days, except for the activity Gwen and I had done the previous Friday, which was to put our rain boots on and go stomp in puddles at the playground. Okay, it was actually a sunny day when we did this, but we couldn't have done it without the several days of rain prior to that, so it counts, right? Right?

Omission of truth ruled the day, because I failed to mention in my answer that we had done our puddle-jumping on a sunny day, and that I was a working mom. So all was well. I was so busy congratulating myself for a near miss that I forgot to listen to all the other parents' (and grandparents'!) answers on how they spend rainy days, so I didn't learn a damn thing.

Footnote: While at the library today, I learned that Toddler Time, which was previously held on Tuesday mornings, has been moved to Saturday mornings. I could not be happier! There are tons of parent-and-kid-oriented activities in this city, but ALL OF THEM happen during the work week. It's like the City of Nanaimo has not noticed that this isn't actually 1952, and most parents have to work. So I am really glad to have something to take Gwen to on the weekends! Hooray!

Friday Five!

1. Today is my Friday! Which is to say, it's the last day of my work week. Tomorrow I am taking Gwen to her second Mother Goose class. Hooray! Last week we discovered that the new rec centre at which the class is held has the most kick-ass playground either of us had ever seen. So tomorrow I will remember to bring her outside shoes and after class she can play as long as she wants! Hooray for activities that wear out children and make them happy while they're doing it.

2. We had a genuinely awesome weekend last weekend, and Chris says it was because we had a complete and utter lack of plans. We'll get a chance to do it again this weekend, too. I definitely enjoy lack-of-plan weekends, though I wouldn't go so far as to echo Chris's sentiment that all weekends should be like that. I do like having a social life, too.

3. I know the difference between the words "breathe" and "breath". Also, "lose" and "loose". Many people don't. I no longer fly into a rage when I see these words misused, but it makes me a little bit sad that something at which I possess skill is no longer considered to be of any value.

4. Gwen's newest word/concept is "different". She doesn't want that show, she wants a different one. She doesn't want that song, she wants a different one. She doesn't want that toy, she wants a different one. This has not yet crossed the line from fascinating new cognitive skill to Princess Syndrome, mostly because we respond with "Go get it yourself, then."


5. Gwen also really likes to bring me her baby and help me change her baby's diaper. "Baby, change bum," she says. Her baby is a Cabbage Patch Kid purchased by her grannie from a distant relative who buys such dolls, knits outfits for them, and then sells them for like $2 more than what she bought them for. The doll happens to have blue eyes and brown hair just like Gwen, and she loves it, so that's cool. I remember reading the doll's name on the adoption certificate, but I can't for the life of me remember what it was, though I can tell you that my own childhood CPK was named Mandy Karbel and her "birthday" was one day after mine (though, obviously, in a different year). Anyway, this whole digression is just to ask whether Cabbage Patch Kids always came with little plasticy diapers that you can actually remove and replace, because while I remember Mandy's name I can't remember ever ministering to her in this way. On the other hand, Gwen and I change her baby's bum several times a day. I guess I should learn the kid's name.

The Blogosphere is Taking Over!

On Friday night Chris and I watched Julie and Julia. Just in case you haven't seen or heard of this movie, it's about a young woman living in New York who decides to spend a year making every single one of Julia Child's recipes in the famed book, "Mastering the Art of French Cooking." I was excited to see this movie for many reasons. First, it has been getting good reviews and looked, from the trailer, to be funny and enjoyable. Secondly, it was well-cast with two brilliant actresses: Meryl Streep and Amy Adams. But even more than that, I was stoked because this movie is about a blogger. The movie was based on a book, which was in turn based on a blog. Written by a young woman living in New York who decides to spend a year making every single one of Julia Child's recipes in the famed book, "Mastering the Art of French Cooking." And blogging about it.

I am a blog addict. It's true. I am bigtime hooked on blogs, and in a very real (and mentally unbalanced) way these people are important to me. I shed real tears when one "my" bloggers experiences tragedy. I yell "YES!" at my computer screen when one of them takes a leap of faith. Posts about the daily lives of strangers - insightful, witty*, thought-provoking, inspiring, hilarious, envy-producing, empathy-creating, and so on - genuinely affect my mood and my day. Yes. I told you I was unbalanced.

*Not actually a stranger. Hi, Amber!

So you can imagine how much it blows my tiny mind when the blogosphere becomes more real somehow. I've read several books that are based on and/or written by my favourite bloggers: Cringe, Things I Learned From My Dad (in Therapy), Sleep is for the Weak, Schuyler's Monster, Why Girls are Weird, and of course, It Sucked and Then I Cried. I've read dozens more books that I first heard about through blogs, the same way other people might get book recommendations from, you know, actual real life people that they meet with on a regular basis to spend time socializing ... what do they call those people? Oh yeah, FRIENDS. Anyway, my point is that when a blogger writes a book, s/he comes to the attention of the (perhaps dwindling? we hope?) portion of the population that still thinks blogs are weird. Depending on how the book is written and marketed, these Mainstream Non-Internet-Addicted People may not even KNOW that they are reading a book based on a blog, a book that probably wouldn't even exist if not for that Weird Blogging Thing.

And this, finally, is my point: the movie Julie and Julia is not just about a young woman living in New York who decides to spend a year making every single one of Julia Child's recipes in the famed book, "Mastering the Art of French Cooking." It's about a young woman living in New York who decides to spend a year making every single one of Julia Child's recipes in the famed book, "Mastering the Art of French Cooking and blogging about it. You can't miss the blogging: it's a major plot point of the movie, and there are several scenes that feature voiceovers that are word-for-word source (blog!) material. The film deftly draws parallels between Child's struggle to complete and publish her cookbook, and the young blogger's struggle to identify herself as a writer, essentially equating both types of authorship. That is a powerful message for the rest of us young bloggers, whether or not we dream of book deals. It's a powerful message for the rest of the world, too, those who wonder why we insist on documenting the fascinating minutiae of our lives and sharing it with perfect strangers.

As mentioned above, the movie has been well-received by both audiences and critics, and I was deeply impressed with the humour, the performances, the writing, every last detail down to the sets and costumes. I adored the way Julie and Julia's stories were woven together, and naturally I drooled over the food. This film has even inspired me to at last forgive writer/director Nora Ephron for Sleepless in Seattle. (I will probably still rip into her another day, however, for her book "I Feel Bad About My Neck", anti-feminist tripe that it is.) But really, you can learn about all those aspects on many other sites (or even magazines, newspapers, and non-print media like television and FRIENDS!). Here at Blogging For Two, you'll hear about why this movie makes MY life better, because it's all about me. It makes my life better because it makes blogging a justifiable and valued pastime, hopefully clarifying to the masses why it is we do this thing we do. Making it more normal. Apparently sales of Child's book have surged since the movie's release ... I wonder if there has been a similar increase in blog usage?

As a footnote: Heather B. Armstrong, one of the "realest" bloggers out there, has become just a bit more real. Apparently spurred on by being featured as a Jeopardy! question, she has now decided to take over the world of television by signing a deal with HGTV. Holy shit, y'all. Blogger be UNSTOPPABLE.

Oh, AND? About six months ago, Intel decided to sponsor a blogger's life list. As in, that list of a hundred things you'd like to do before you die - now paid for in full, and all you have to do is write about it. Now THAT is real, my friend!

But most importantly - Annabelle. Welcome, sweet girl!

There are 27 links in this post. Amuse me and tell me how many of them you ended up clicking.

Dear Gwen: Month Twenty-One

Dear Gwen,
Today, you are twenty-one months old!

You have really astounded us this month with the changes in your development. You seem to be going through another language explosion, and have added so many words to your vocabulary that I can hardly keep up. You hit 100 words around 18 months, and I stopped keeping track at that time: it wouldn't surprise me if that number has doubled in the past three months. Here are some examples: splash, catch, Gwen's turn, I like it, have it, good morning, counting, colouring, snuggle, blanket, pick [a book to read], sing, big girl, movie, treat. That brief list also gives a glimpse into your personality and what you like to do! However, even with these improvements, communication still has its challenges. Sometimes, you will just say "more," out of the blue, and we have no idea what you're asking for! "More what?" we ask, and you say "more, please!"

You are much more reliable with saying "please" these days, which makes us very happy. You are now learning the cruel lesson that just because you say please, doesn't guarantee that you get what you want! Another development is your growing sense of self-awareness. When you see pictures of yourself, you usually say "baby," but recently if we respond with, "Yes, that's baby Gwen," you will point to yourself and say "Gwen". And your pronunciation of that challenging "gw" sound is pretty darn good!

One of your new phrases is "Help me," which isn't actually a request for help: rather, it is a request that you be allowed to help me with laundry, cooking, etc. After all, I usually say, "Do you want to help me?" so that is how you learned that phrase. I think one of your favourites is the laundry. We are a good team: I pass you the items, you put them into the basket or washing machine or dryer as directed. You really enjoy being a big helper, and I enjoy having your help!

On the whole, you are getting more independent. Over Christmas, we did some rearranging that included moving a lot of your toys from the living room into your room, so you now have a safe and fun place to play both upstairs and downstairs. You can happily play in either place on your own (with one of us nearby) for as long as 10-15 minutes, when you're in the mood. On the one hand, this makes us really proud that you are growing and changing and becoming your own person. On the other hand, there's a bittersweet sadness that comes with the realization that you are needing us less and less. WAAAAHHHH my baby, etc.

Our Mother Goose classes, a free class to learn songs, rhymes, and finger plays, started this week. We took this last year when you were just nine months old, and while it was fun for me, I don’t think you got much out of it. This round, however, I knew you would really enjoy learning the songs and the actions, and I was right! You love music and singing, and you absolutely love it when you get a chance to participate. I’m really glad that even though your dad and I both work full-time, we’ve managed to find a class that fits into our schedule.
You are becoming very interested in imaginative play. You are fascinated by the concept of your dolls or animals going to sleep, in particular. Over and over and over you will say "Ni-night," to a stuffed animal, give it a kiss, tuck it in with a blanket, and then announce to whomever is nearby that "[animal] sleepin." Then after a moment you will shout, "AWAKE!" and pull the animal out from the blanket, wishing it a "guh-mornin!" before starting the whole process again.

Since Christmas, you have eaten most of your meals at the new toddler-sized table you got from Grannie and Grandpa. It's sometimes a struggle to get you to stay in your chair during mealtimes, but on the whole you do very well. You often like to have your puppy on the other chair, and you will pretend to feed puppy some of your food. A few days ago, you found a small empty bottle meant for a single serving of salad dressing, and you went and "fed" it to puppy the way one would feed a bottle to a baby. The aspect of you sharing food with your stuffed animals, of course, reduces your dad and I to a tearful chorus of "awwwww!"

You are starting to show some signs of readiness for potty-training, though your dad and I agree that we are nowhere NEAR ready. I think the earlier we start, the longer it will take. For now, we provide you with the opportunity a couple of times a day to sit on the potty for as long as you'd like, which you are generally happy to do. I think you're starting to become a little more aware of your bodily functions, and that's enough for now.

Well, I guess that's it for now, Gwen. Your dad and I are so proud of you, and as always, we love you so much and are so excited about every stage of your development. We feel so very lucky to be your parents, blessed with such an amazing and adorable little girl.

Love,

Mama

The Doctor, Again

We took Gwen to the doctor yesterday evening because she'd been coughing pretty badly since Saturday night and then in the afternoon we got a call from her daycare provider that Gwen was running a fever.

Aside: Gwen coughs a LOT. I don't always write about it here, because I think Holy Crap, Wordygirl, get some perspective, but she's pretty much been coughing since September. We've been to the doctor ... maybe four or five times? I kind of think I *should* start keeping track, at this point.

Chris is the one Denise calls, because he's on the road and is sometimes able to pop in and pick Gwen up ... or, if he's far away, he'll call me and I'm happy to do it. He isn't paid by the hour the way I am so it makes more financial sense for him to do it if possible. Not that it doesn't break my heart and scramble my brains to know that Gwen is sick and I'm not going to her. When Chris called me yesterday to tell me Gwen had a fever and he was on his way to get her, I still had a couple hours of work left, and he told me there was no point in my leaving early.

Aside: One of the reasons it's hard for me to let go of my conviction that sick little girls need their mommies in particular, is because Chris relayed to me that Denise took Gwen's temperature at 107 degrees. ONE HUNDRED AND SEVEN DEGREES. Her actual temperature was 100.7 degrees. Oh, those pesky details!

Chris called our clinic to see if he could get Gwen in for an appointment, but no dice. We had to do their "urgent care" walk-in clinic, which starts at 5pm. It's a little better than the regular walk-in clinic, because you are not going to have to wait 2+ hours for a 30-second appointment, but not much.

I met Chris and Gwen at home and decided that I would skip yoga (the sacrifice!) because although Gwen did not really require full parental doting, there was no way I'd be able to concentrate or meditate or get anything out of yoga if I was thinking about her and her sad little sick face. She is so different when she's ill: cuddly, soft, quiet, still. We had a good snuggle on the couch waiting for it to be time to head to the clinic. By that time, the Tylenol Denise gave her had brought her fever down. She was really chatty and silly during the car ride to the clinic, which gave both Chris and I pause.

Aside: I really struggle with when to take Gwen to the doctor. I hate feeling like I'm overreacting. I also hate feeling like I should have come earlier. It's definitely one of the most frustrating dilemmas of parenthood. I think I err on the side of not overreacting, and yet she's been to the doctor 4-5 times this season. GAH.

We waited for about half an hour to see the doctor. We'd brought two things to keep Gwen happy: her beloved puppy (the one who says her name and sings to her) and a laptop playing a DVD of Blue's Clues.

Aside: We've become THOSE PARENTS.

When at last the doctor came in, Gwen immediately curled into me, gripping on with all her strength and saying "Shy, shy." She's recently started using this word when she feels shy (of all things) and although it made me kind of sad at first, I now think this is a positive thing for her to do and say. But unfortunately, in the case of doctor's appointments, I am not able to respect her wishes to avoid the stranger in her midst.

Aside: We asked the doctor if he'd mind examining Gwen's puppy first. We had really good luck with this approach a few weeks ago when a very kind and gentle doctor listened to Puppy's chest and back and looked in her ears, etc while a very calm Gwen watched. She was then much more open to going through the same experiences herself. When we asked this doctor to do the same thing, he looked at us like we were nuts. He gave it a try, but since Gwen's head was buried in my neck while she chanted in a panicky voice "shy, shy" I don't think she got much out of it.

Gwen did not co-operate during the exam. She was very agitated and upset. We had to hold her head still so the doctor could check her ears. I tried to soothe her by saying, "It's okay, it's okay" but the tears were coming and she was so sad and scared. Being at a walk-in meant the doctor had no time to try to put her at ease, and she paid the price for that. I soon realized that through her tears she was saying, "Okay, okay," in the same tone I was using.

Aside: She's started doing this when she falls down and hurts herself, too. As she gets up she will say "Okay," because I always say, "Are you okay?" She has started to associate the word "okay" with the feeling of being hurt or scared. When I realized this, my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces. It was not okay.

So, my daughter was using every communication tool she had at her disposal to tell us how unhappy and uncomfortable she was, and we disregarded it and carried on with the exam, which resulted in (yet another) prescription for antibiotics and the suggestion to use an inhaler mask (which we already have from a previous doctor's appointment). He said her lungs sounded wheezy and she might have a touch of bronchitis. He might have said more, but the screaming drowned him out.

Aside: I have the distinct feeling that he gave us this prescription to get us out of his office. He looked at us as if we were crazy mollycoddlers, even BEFORE we asked him to examine Puppy.

Gwen did fairly well for the rest of the evening, and from the reports I've gotten from Chris (who shared Gwen-duty with his mom today, as it's Gramma Time Day) she's doing alright today too. Slightly more whiny than usual, but her fever is under control (not skyrocketing up to ONE HUNDRED POINT SEVEN, OH NOES), her appetite is fine, and she is getting lots of fluids.

Aside: There's a reason for making sure she gets lots of fluids today. And it's not the vomiting-related reason. Say no more!

I feel sad for Gwen, not only because she is sick, but because she is starting to learn that the world is cruel. I feel like we treated her disrespectfully yesterday, that we betrayed her trust. I feel really sad about that. The bronchitis (if indeed it is such) will go away, but that violation of trust may last. I hope I can make it up to her.

Wordy Girl Jr.

I actually took this movie back in November, which is when Gwen started saying "I did it". She now speaks even more clearly than she does here, and her counting has improved greatly as well. It took me two months to figure out how to add the captions. Enjoy!

(For the uninitiated: "Kenshin" is the name of a Japanese cartoon that Chris and Gwen watch together.)