Groundhog Day

Yesterday I hit the wall. Figuratively, not literally. I came home from work, The Babe in tow, and scrambled upstairs for the beginning the evening routine. This week has been a bit chaotic, topping off with my husband having to wake up The Babe yesterday morning to find that she had thrown up in the night and her entire bed needed to be stripped before heading off to work. Yay. I haven't made as many meals, have found myself eating out due to convenience  and what seems to be one big craving for processed food. As a result, we have been out more and the house has suffered as a result.

As I came upstairs I looked around and it looked as though a wild animal had torn through my kitchen, leaving dirty dishes, garbage, watermelon rinds and sippy cups in its wake. Clean Tupperware littered the floor and I came to the realization I had pretty much nothing for dinner for The Babe, as she is choosing not to eat chicken at the moment and that it what we were eating for dinner. As I struggled to put together a meal, avoid the ever-present dog, I felt as though I was in the movie "Groundhog Day". As though I wake up every day and spend time every day cleaning and doing laundry and cooking, only to wake up the next day and have it all undone, have to redo it, only to wake up again with the same thought. I felt defeated. I felt tired. And sad, because I don't want to constantly clean and cook. I want to hang out with my kid. But I'm struggling to find that balance and to quell the desire to clean everytime I'm in the kitchen. Some weeks it feels like a winning battle, but this week was not one of them.

Perhaps its the weather, or an over-scheduled week. Perhaps its the time of year - out of the winter but not quite into the nice part of spring. Perhaps I am looking at the house we own, the storage locker we pay for, and doing the mental math and realizing the end of the clutter and disorganization is nowhere in sight for us. Maybe it's all of that.

Luckily for The Babe and I, my husband swooped in right as I was in the thick of my stressed out melancholy. He took one look at me, put in his earbuds, loaded up a podcast and got to work. While we have different approaches to cleaning and organization in life, he knows I have a breaking point and has learned that when he sees it drastic measures must be taken. He handled the laundry while I spent some time reading to The Babe. He vacuumed while I did the dishes. In the end, we managed to tackle the brunt of it before dissolving into bed. There's more to do, but when I woke up this morning, I didn't see my shadow and went on to a brand new day.

Working mom

I'm in my second week back at work and the consistent question I get from friends and family is "how are you doing?". Well, I'm doing o-kay. Not great, but not terrible. Just okay.

I like the work. The work is interesting and right up my alley. It's a new role for the organization, so I have a lot of input as to what my day-to-day looks like. The people are welcoming and friendly and tell me they are happy I am there. Which makes it so much easier to be there.

Where I am struggling is between 6-8am and 4:30-10pm. Because if I thought it was hard to get it all done when I was on maternity leave, I had it all wrong. I continue to be surprised to find, that after picking The Babe up from daycare, coming home, making dinner for her and for us (the adults), playing, bathing and nursing The Babe, cleaning up from dinner, making lunches while my husband puts her to bed, that after all that is done it is 9:15pm and it's pretty much time to go to bed. Those are also nights when I don't have any social commitments. The mornings are also an interesting mix of doing my makeup while telling The Babe not to rifle through the bathroom garbage, a verbal bargaining system to get breakfast eaten, and a dance around a hungry beagle just waiting for toast strips to be casually tossed on the ground.

I want to have special powers where I can freeze time, get everything clean and made, and then restart the time so I can have some semblance of quality time with my husband and The Babe. So far it seems to be limited to weekends, which seem to be filling up pretty fast with grocery trips, family visits and birthday parties. I realize some of this is my own making, but some of it just seems to be the way it is when you work outside the home. I guess I just need to figure out how to balance this stage of our life.

Fingers crossed I get it figured out before we start living off takeout and frozen dinners...

~ H

Back to work

So it's official - I start a new job in two weeks. I'm excited, anxious, worried, relieved and so many more emotions. How will The Babe do in full-time daycare? How will I do leaving her with someone else for more than just a one off? Am I doing the right thing by going back to work? Bah, so many questions!

Due to the fact that my new job works indirectly with kids, I choose not to discuss the specifics of what and where the job is. It is significantly closer to home, cutting my commute from a three hour round-trip to one hour, and it has benefits which was a major factor as my husband is self-employed and is covered under me. The commute was the major reason I began looking for a new role; I couldn't justify spending so much time away from my child if it wasn't be spent at work. The location of my new role is also close to a rec centre, which means I can get some exercise in as well (in theory).

But the mommy guilt, and a few faces who shall remain nameless, have me constantly questioning whether or not choosing to be a working mom is the best thing for my child. How can I know this? I can't! All I can do is try and see what happens. I know that I am passionate about the work that I do, as well as being passionate about my child, and I am content when I am doing the things I enjoy. I love being a mom, but I also love having something for myself and I'm excited to have new things to talk about over dinner.

I'm scared that the Babe won't receive enough attention and care at daycare. Is that a common fear amongst working moms? I trust the daycare provider and I know that socialization is huge for the Babe in order to be a happy human. I'm just nervous to not be with her, because it's been just the two of us during the days for the last ten months. How can I hand her over to someone else and say "here, please don't break her"? When I think about it, I am often reduced to tears.

Whew, deep breath. I just have to try and see what happens.

~ H

How I manage

Or don't for that matter. Today was a day that started off with so much... potential. I had two batches of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies made by 10am. We were on time for yoga, and even had time to stop for coffee on the way. We arrived at yoga feeling ready to face the day. And then, explosion! Of the diaper variety. Okay, no problem, just reach into the diaper bag to grab a fresh diaper and the backup sleeper. And reach, keeping reaching, pull everything out and yep, no diapers in said diaper bag and the backup outfit was used as a backup on Saturday. Now I have a soiled child, a red face and nothing to put her in. Luckily we are at Mom & Baby yoga, so there are diaper and outfit offers aplenty.

Fast forward 30 minutes and the Babe has soiled her second diaper, leading me to ask for yet another one from understanding moms. Okay, still not a completely terrible day. Fast forward two hours and I find out the daycare I enjoyed visiting may or may not be breaking the rules by having too many kids, the Babe has decided the Ergo is not for her and wants to be carried, and I am running very late for an already-postponed party planning meeting.

How do I manage? I sit in rush hour traffic, silently wondering why I didn't know more rules about daycare and if I'm doing damage to the Babe by the way I'm carrying her in the Ergo while
counting how many I have now kept someone waiting. Add gridlock and a tub of leftover cookies to the equation and I find myself not managing anymore. By the time I get home I can feel the tears welling up.

And then, while changing her out of a disposable diaper and into a cloth one, the Babe starts laughing. Full belly laughs for three whole minutes. This has never happened before. She tends to be more of a grinning child. And the bad day just melts away. I can do research into daycares and carriers but at the end of the day the Babe laughing means she's happy so I've done my job today.

I think I'll have a cookie to celebrate :)

~ H

Photo credit: Nancy Read

Shame, shame, double shame

Tonight I had a mini-breakdown (less than 10 minutes spent crying) about what I felt was a selfishness on my behalf. Prior to being a mom, I relished my alone time and often spent hours on the computer, or longer ago, time in front of my sewing machine working on a project. Now, it seems as though every time I have a spare alone minute and I just get settled in front of the computer, television, sewing machine, Kitchenaid mixer, etc. then bam! the baby monitor starts flashing the red lines and the babe's screams echo through the ducts to wherever I am. And for a moment, or a long while, I am mad at her. Insert shameface here.

I know I'm a good mom, and if ever I forget it my husband is quickly there to bolster my spirits and remind me. But I do feel ashamed that I so crave time to myself, frequently, and that the craving results in anger, however short lived, towards my daughter when it is interrupted. I love that little baby with all my heart and of course she is more important to me than updating my credit card information online or finishing the stitching on a table cover. My frustrations easily mount these days when I'm working on little sleep and a sore body and I often find myself lashing out at those closest to me (read: my husband and our fat beagle).

To remedy this I am attending an extra yoga class this week and allowing myself as many Walmart Skor cookies as I like (maximum 6, because there are 6 in the container). I am also trying to communicate better with my husband, not a strong suit of mine but I'm working on it.

~ H

My Mommy Hook bit me

It's been a rough week. The babe is exhibiting major signs of teething, but also some signs of possibly fighting a cold or other sickness. She went from one dirty diaper a day back to 5-6 and now screams bloody murder when placed on her change table after her bath, as though she knows bedtime is next and she's not having any of it.

I've also been anxious and stressed out more than usual, which I can attribute to the upcoming anniversary of my mom's passing (2001). But I've also been extra clumsy, unable to exercise as much as I like, and finally, to top it off, when taking my ultra compact and lightweight City Mini stroller (which I would highly recommend to shorter moms as I am 5'2") out of the cargo hold of my SUV the Mommy Hook attached to handle bar scratched me deep enough to draw blood.

Frustration nearly got the best of me and I almost tossed it clear across the parking lot, a common action of mine when frustrated. I have been known to break things, on purpose, when my stress level gets too high. It's usually a kitchen item that my husband and I disagree on anyways, but that doesn't make it healthy. This time I took a deep breath, placed the Mommy Hook below the stroller in the cargo basket and put a bandaid on my finger. Serenity now, zen mommy, serenity now.