I didn't sleep in this morning. (Much.) Instead, I started the day out right: coffee with my fella, and making a list for the day. I'm starting with option #1 - refocus on homemaking and "relaxing" before the storm.
List for today: laundry, rake leaves (just one last patch!), get groceries, laundry, make soup, continue reading the new book the Moms lent me. And possibly more laundry.
It doesn't leave much for tomorrow, though...
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Head in the clouds, body in bed
I'm feeling a bit hazy these days, a little unfocused.
Last week felt like a bit of a frenzy. After not doing much, or at least, not having much that needed doing for quite awhile, I suddenly had several things on my plate -- the editing work, and my sister's visit. I had things to focus on, to work through and around. When I said good-bye to Julie on Monday morning, settled down to work, and then finally handed off the last chapter of the thesis on Monday night, I felt a strong sense of satisfaction and some relief. I felt like I'd accomplished something.
And now I'm resting on my laurels. Yesterday, I spent the entire morning reading in bed. I went to the gym in the afternoon, got some groceries, did the tiniest amount of tidying, spent the evening chilling with McPie, and that was pretty much it. Today, I also spent the morning reading (finishing Late Nights on Air, which I enjoyed, though I agree that the foreshadowing was heavy-handed). I'll go to the gym again this afternoon, prepare dinner (and watch SYTYCDC, of course!) I am on vacation now, having earned one by doing some "real work". But I need to decide when the vacation will end, and what to do next.
Last week while visiting with Julie, I kept getting these little pangs of anxiety. While we were out for lunch and shopping for a crib set, I noted a tingle of stress that seemed to be telling me I needed to be doing something right then. Of course, the message was that I should be at home editing, rather than out gallivanting with my sister. However, when making arrangements for the contract, I made it clear how many hours I could work each day, and this took into account prioritizing spending time with my guest. So I was doing exactly what I should be doing. But it fascinated me to not how strongly the obligation to "do work" and stick to a schedule came on, and pervaded the other parts of my life.
It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, especially because I a) wasn't dreading the work at all; in fact I looked forward to it, and b) I could fit it in when I needed to, around the other things that needed doing. And I felt productive -- like I was contributing to the family effort. It was just unexpected. And kind of inconvenient, because it occurred when I couldn't drop everything and answer to it.
The anxiety, I think came from the feeling that I had an actual, concrete obligation. The contract work, despite having a very flexible schedule, felt like more of an obligation that spending time with my guest, or cleaning the house, and this feelingis definitely directly related to the fact that my work was earning money not just appreciation. Even though, according to all our plans, I don't need to be earning dollars now -- it's just a bonus. But I have not been able, despite my best mental efforts and McPie's ongoing support and coaxing, to dissociate the concept of "contributing" from "earning money".
So, the end of my vacation could entail any of the following: resuming focus on home-making and relaxing before the storm, resurrecting my long-ago plans for self-development, or seeking out more paid work.
I haven't decided. It may be time to be proactive, rather than follow the path with my head in the clouds. I think a list is in the offing...
Last week felt like a bit of a frenzy. After not doing much, or at least, not having much that needed doing for quite awhile, I suddenly had several things on my plate -- the editing work, and my sister's visit. I had things to focus on, to work through and around. When I said good-bye to Julie on Monday morning, settled down to work, and then finally handed off the last chapter of the thesis on Monday night, I felt a strong sense of satisfaction and some relief. I felt like I'd accomplished something.
And now I'm resting on my laurels. Yesterday, I spent the entire morning reading in bed. I went to the gym in the afternoon, got some groceries, did the tiniest amount of tidying, spent the evening chilling with McPie, and that was pretty much it. Today, I also spent the morning reading (finishing Late Nights on Air, which I enjoyed, though I agree that the foreshadowing was heavy-handed). I'll go to the gym again this afternoon, prepare dinner (and watch SYTYCDC, of course!) I am on vacation now, having earned one by doing some "real work". But I need to decide when the vacation will end, and what to do next.
Last week while visiting with Julie, I kept getting these little pangs of anxiety. While we were out for lunch and shopping for a crib set, I noted a tingle of stress that seemed to be telling me I needed to be doing something right then. Of course, the message was that I should be at home editing, rather than out gallivanting with my sister. However, when making arrangements for the contract, I made it clear how many hours I could work each day, and this took into account prioritizing spending time with my guest. So I was doing exactly what I should be doing. But it fascinated me to not how strongly the obligation to "do work" and stick to a schedule came on, and pervaded the other parts of my life.
It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, especially because I a) wasn't dreading the work at all; in fact I looked forward to it, and b) I could fit it in when I needed to, around the other things that needed doing. And I felt productive -- like I was contributing to the family effort. It was just unexpected. And kind of inconvenient, because it occurred when I couldn't drop everything and answer to it.
The anxiety, I think came from the feeling that I had an actual, concrete obligation. The contract work, despite having a very flexible schedule, felt like more of an obligation that spending time with my guest, or cleaning the house, and this feelingis definitely directly related to the fact that my work was earning money not just appreciation. Even though, according to all our plans, I don't need to be earning dollars now -- it's just a bonus. But I have not been able, despite my best mental efforts and McPie's ongoing support and coaxing, to dissociate the concept of "contributing" from "earning money".
So, the end of my vacation could entail any of the following: resuming focus on home-making and relaxing before the storm, resurrecting my long-ago plans for self-development, or seeking out more paid work.
I haven't decided. It may be time to be proactive, rather than follow the path with my head in the clouds. I think a list is in the offing...
Friday, November 14, 2008
Things fall
Into my lap.
I chatted with my editing "client" today. She expressed satisfaction with my work (and her supervisor concurs). She expressed surprise that I was enjoying the work. She expressed enthusiasm when I confirmed that yes, I would definitely be interested in doing more of this work.
Turns out that she has a pile more reports and papers upcoming that she'd like me to edit. And she wants to pass on my references to others in her department. Seems like I might be able to save up a little for my "mat leave" after all. [Knock wood.]
As the kids say on the internet today: Woot!
I chatted with my editing "client" today. She expressed satisfaction with my work (and her supervisor concurs). She expressed surprise that I was enjoying the work. She expressed enthusiasm when I confirmed that yes, I would definitely be interested in doing more of this work.
Turns out that she has a pile more reports and papers upcoming that she'd like me to edit. And she wants to pass on my references to others in her department. Seems like I might be able to save up a little for my "mat leave" after all. [Knock wood.]
As the kids say on the internet today: Woot!
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Highlights and lowlights of my mini job
I have a real job this week, editing a PhD thesis. The job is really getting in the way of getting things done! My sister is arriving this evening for a visit and the house is a mess, and I have no groceries. Sigh. But I've been getting the kids to do more and more housework -- they are cooperative.
Another silver lining: I'm loving the editing! I can hardly tear myself away. Seriously, I keep trying to squeeze in a half hour here and there, and find myself saying "just one more page before I start supper...." I love digging through the APA Publication Manual, I love tracking back through to make sure I've been consistent, I love debating the choice between Cdn and American spelling, I love choosing a much better word, I love staring a sentences trying to figure out exactly what is wrong with that? I love the fiddly details.
I have no idea why this is so much better than writing. I guess I'm just not an ideas person. But if someone's willing to pay me to simply fix up their ideas, I'm okay with that.
Another silver lining: I'm loving the editing! I can hardly tear myself away. Seriously, I keep trying to squeeze in a half hour here and there, and find myself saying "just one more page before I start supper...." I love digging through the APA Publication Manual, I love tracking back through to make sure I've been consistent, I love debating the choice between Cdn and American spelling, I love choosing a much better word, I love staring a sentences trying to figure out exactly what is wrong with that? I love the fiddly details.
I have no idea why this is so much better than writing. I guess I'm just not an ideas person. But if someone's willing to pay me to simply fix up their ideas, I'm okay with that.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Seeing is believing, sort of
We love Lisa and Vincent. Seriously. McPie is thinking of taking dancing lessons.
So, the ultrasound. Wow, what a cool experience. Until then, I was feeling a little doubtful that there was actually something in there. The ultrasound made it very clear that there was not only something in there, but someone. I'm still trying to get my head around it.
We took the kids, so they could get a sneak preview of their soon-to-be sibling. It was fun, the three of them lined up on chair beside me, the four of us watching the big screen.
The first thing the technician asked, of course, was whether or not we wanted to know the sex. Yes, we did. It was a lucky answer, because the moment the wand hit my belly, the kid mooned us. And it was very obvious that some of us were getting a brother, and the rest of us were getting a son. Ben might've done in a little fist pump: Yes!
The rest of the scan was completely fascinating. We saw the four beating chambers of the heart (134 bpm, which is low-in-a-good-way in the normal 120-180 range -- an athlete!); the stomach, kidneys and bladder (all functioning, he even peed for us); we counted the bones in the legs, and arms, and saw all the fingers and toes. He was hiding his head down in my hipbone, so we had to poke and prod a bit to get him to show his face. Which was very... skull-like. But very cool. In general, everything looked good and healthy. The measurements showed that my dates are on target.
The most remarkable thing that we saw was how much the baby moves. He was kicking his legs, and waving his hands like crazy. And I could barely feel a thing. But it made clear that the tiny little flutters and twinges I'd been feeling the past few days were in fact baby-related, and not gas cramps, as I was tempted to suspect.
We were able to take home a DVD of the complete scan, which the Moms were eager to see. I was surprised -- I didn't think we'd ever actually look at the thing again. They watched it as intently as if it was an action flick. I guess midwives have a particular interest in that sort of thing.
Since then, I've been feeling -- or imagine I've been feeling -- more movement; the other night there was even a poke-poke-poking that McPie was able to feel. (He assures me it won't be long before we see and feel knees and elbows.)
However, the connection between pregnancy and parenthood still seems very abstract to me. Like I am enduring a particular state of health for the time being, and at the end of March we will be parents to an infant, but the two things are sort of still unrelated.
Anyway, I'm left with the question: why are boys names so much harder to think of than girls names?! Anybody got any suggestions? 'Cause we are open to anything at this point...
So, the ultrasound. Wow, what a cool experience. Until then, I was feeling a little doubtful that there was actually something in there. The ultrasound made it very clear that there was not only something in there, but someone. I'm still trying to get my head around it.
We took the kids, so they could get a sneak preview of their soon-to-be sibling. It was fun, the three of them lined up on chair beside me, the four of us watching the big screen.
The first thing the technician asked, of course, was whether or not we wanted to know the sex. Yes, we did. It was a lucky answer, because the moment the wand hit my belly, the kid mooned us. And it was very obvious that some of us were getting a brother, and the rest of us were getting a son. Ben might've done in a little fist pump: Yes!
The rest of the scan was completely fascinating. We saw the four beating chambers of the heart (134 bpm, which is low-in-a-good-way in the normal 120-180 range -- an athlete!); the stomach, kidneys and bladder (all functioning, he even peed for us); we counted the bones in the legs, and arms, and saw all the fingers and toes. He was hiding his head down in my hipbone, so we had to poke and prod a bit to get him to show his face. Which was very... skull-like. But very cool. In general, everything looked good and healthy. The measurements showed that my dates are on target.
The most remarkable thing that we saw was how much the baby moves. He was kicking his legs, and waving his hands like crazy. And I could barely feel a thing. But it made clear that the tiny little flutters and twinges I'd been feeling the past few days were in fact baby-related, and not gas cramps, as I was tempted to suspect.
We were able to take home a DVD of the complete scan, which the Moms were eager to see. I was surprised -- I didn't think we'd ever actually look at the thing again. They watched it as intently as if it was an action flick. I guess midwives have a particular interest in that sort of thing.
Since then, I've been feeling -- or imagine I've been feeling -- more movement; the other night there was even a poke-poke-poking that McPie was able to feel. (He assures me it won't be long before we see and feel knees and elbows.)
However, the connection between pregnancy and parenthood still seems very abstract to me. Like I am enduring a particular state of health for the time being, and at the end of March we will be parents to an infant, but the two things are sort of still unrelated.
Anyway, I'm left with the question: why are boys names so much harder to think of than girls names?! Anybody got any suggestions? 'Cause we are open to anything at this point...
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Hidden help, and other updates
I've been procrastinating posting today because so much has been going on lately I didn't know where to start. Then something happened late in the afternoon that must be captured in writing.
Constance was home from school (she doesn't go to daycare any more; instead, she walks home by herself everyday at the typical 3:30.) She was emailing on the computer at the dining room table. I got off the phone and announced "Well, I guess it's time to clean the bathroom", and headed in the direction thereof.
Constance's head popped up from behind the laptop. "Really? Can I do it? I love cleaning the bathroom!" She ran over, beat me to the bathroom, and immediately began questioning me about which products I use for which fixtures.
I am totally not kidding. Nor am I dreaming (though I thought I must be for a bit); the bathroom is totally clean (even the mirror and the chrome on the tub faucet), and I had no part in it whatsoever. She even told me that whenever the bathroom needed cleaning, I should ask her to do it. Because she likes it better than all the other chores. I was quick to agree to that deal.
She also spilled the beans that Ben is very good at doing dishes. Apparently (and this is her word only, because the most we ask them to do is get their dishes from the table to the dishwasher, and even that is touch 'n' go most times), he doesn't always like to do the dishes, but once he gets going on the task, he goes all out, even doing some little extras.
I have so much to learn about this parenting business! Of course it regularly occurs to me that I should get the kids to participate in chores more, but I'm a bit of a control freak when it comes to domestic duties, and the thought of having to supervise them (and nag them) through things seems like more work that it's worth, so I usually just do things myself. But clearly they are being trained off-site (handy!), and with this new revelation, I think I may be ready to let go of my whole "this needs to be done just-so" attitude, and let them have at 'er.
And best to get these habits established before I actually start needing real help from them in a few months. I can't wait until McPie comes home to tell him this news -- our kids can clean!
(Of course, he's been struggling with the feeling that he's losing his ability to contribute around the house, since I now have time to do so much more. That's how amazing my husband is -- he's upset that he doesn't get to do chores much any more! I've started "saving" things for him to do -- sometimes dishes, sometimes taking out the recycling -- poor thing.)
In other news, we just returned home from a mini-vacation to Florida. McPie's frisbee team was playing at the UPA National Championships in Sarasota. I went along because of November's cold, lack of sun-ness. In Sarasota, there is no cold, and there is plenty of sun. There are also beautiful beaches and plenty of seafood. It was wonderful. I even managed to get out for a run while I was there.
We arrived home Sunday night, in time for the next tempest of activity. Monday (yesterday) was Constance's 11th birthday (coincidentally, also Baba's birthday), and it was also the day scheduled for our first ultrasound. We picked the kids up early from school, attended the ultrasound appointment all together, and then headed to the Moms' place for a family birthday dinner of delicious fajitas and homemade checkered (white and choco) cake. (Maman is a fabulous baker.) How great a homecoming is that?
I'm still digesting the whole experience that was brought to us by the wonder of medical technology. I'll save it for tomorrow -- I can't wait to tell about it!
Constance was home from school (she doesn't go to daycare any more; instead, she walks home by herself everyday at the typical 3:30.) She was emailing on the computer at the dining room table. I got off the phone and announced "Well, I guess it's time to clean the bathroom", and headed in the direction thereof.
Constance's head popped up from behind the laptop. "Really? Can I do it? I love cleaning the bathroom!" She ran over, beat me to the bathroom, and immediately began questioning me about which products I use for which fixtures.
I am totally not kidding. Nor am I dreaming (though I thought I must be for a bit); the bathroom is totally clean (even the mirror and the chrome on the tub faucet), and I had no part in it whatsoever. She even told me that whenever the bathroom needed cleaning, I should ask her to do it. Because she likes it better than all the other chores. I was quick to agree to that deal.
She also spilled the beans that Ben is very good at doing dishes. Apparently (and this is her word only, because the most we ask them to do is get their dishes from the table to the dishwasher, and even that is touch 'n' go most times), he doesn't always like to do the dishes, but once he gets going on the task, he goes all out, even doing some little extras.
I have so much to learn about this parenting business! Of course it regularly occurs to me that I should get the kids to participate in chores more, but I'm a bit of a control freak when it comes to domestic duties, and the thought of having to supervise them (and nag them) through things seems like more work that it's worth, so I usually just do things myself. But clearly they are being trained off-site (handy!), and with this new revelation, I think I may be ready to let go of my whole "this needs to be done just-so" attitude, and let them have at 'er.
And best to get these habits established before I actually start needing real help from them in a few months. I can't wait until McPie comes home to tell him this news -- our kids can clean!
(Of course, he's been struggling with the feeling that he's losing his ability to contribute around the house, since I now have time to do so much more. That's how amazing my husband is -- he's upset that he doesn't get to do chores much any more! I've started "saving" things for him to do -- sometimes dishes, sometimes taking out the recycling -- poor thing.)
In other news, we just returned home from a mini-vacation to Florida. McPie's frisbee team was playing at the UPA National Championships in Sarasota. I went along because of November's cold, lack of sun-ness. In Sarasota, there is no cold, and there is plenty of sun. There are also beautiful beaches and plenty of seafood. It was wonderful. I even managed to get out for a run while I was there.
We arrived home Sunday night, in time for the next tempest of activity. Monday (yesterday) was Constance's 11th birthday (coincidentally, also Baba's birthday), and it was also the day scheduled for our first ultrasound. We picked the kids up early from school, attended the ultrasound appointment all together, and then headed to the Moms' place for a family birthday dinner of delicious fajitas and homemade checkered (white and choco) cake. (Maman is a fabulous baker.) How great a homecoming is that?
I'm still digesting the whole experience that was brought to us by the wonder of medical technology. I'll save it for tomorrow -- I can't wait to tell about it!
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