Trust me, I do.

I don't know how the average 1 year old interacts with the people around him - my experience is limited to one child. But judging by the comments that every stranger on the street corner makes, BB is a particularly happy and socially engaging baby. He makes eye contact, smiles, and giggles for almost everyone he sees. It is an endearing trait.

Not surprisingly, most people make some comment regarding their own experience. The older generation with their "I remembers" I can easily tolerate. It does take a few minutes out of my day to make these trips down memory lane, but I can almost always afford the time. However, the comments from people who have children between the ages of 10 and 18 always cause me to pause and think. Generally, the begin with some complaint about their child's current behaviour patterns and they always finish by saying "Enjoy it while you can" or some near approximation.

I think I understand where they are coming from and I know it is just idle chitchat. But I am often tempted to say something to try to make them understand exactly how much I am enjoying my son.

I think we are blessed with an extraordinarily even-tempered child. Which makes our time together so enjoyable. I would have to be a hard-hearted bitch to not enjoy my son. How could anyone resist those baby giggles, so rarely interrupted by baby tears? I am certainly not so used to him that I fail to comprehend the magic of each breath he takes.

Yesterday we went swimming, just the two of us. Today we went to the park. He is my world and I am his. I fully and completely appreciate how brief this moment in time is. I marvel daily at everything that he is and everything that he is becoming.

I have my frustrations, but I must admit they are few. He is such a good-tempered, easy baby. Through no virtue of my own, I find my role as mother a (relatively) simple task. I know that will change, but for now I am wholly content as things are.

So I write my reply here: I am not missing his babyhood. I do not count the minutes waiting for him to be more independent. I am enjoying every moment of the person his is today. And tomorrow, when his cries of "DAAAAADDDDD!" wake me and wake his father at 6:30 in the morning, I will happily make room for him on our bed, wait for his father to bring him in, and securely gather his warm body in next to mine for his morning nurse. I will marvel at the little hands that play with my pyjama buttons and his stuffed animal as he nurses. And this will merely begin my day of wonder-filled moments. And the day after that? I know I will enjoy that, too.

I can still hardly believe he is here. The juxtaposition of his life to his brother's life constantly sends my mind reeling in disbelief. How is it possible that he is here and sleeping in the next room? But he is. He's my son and he's here to stay.

I can't help but enjoy him.

Possession

I have a weird thing. I am upset by people who don't acknowledge C. I get more upset by people who over-acknowledge him*. Or something. I think an example is in order.

We went to the cemetery on Easter Sunday. And for some reason, I imagined that my MIL had been there and that she had been crying. Which is weird, b/c I knew she hadn't been there. But, whatever, the image popped in my mind. I was momentarily furious. That she would have the gall to cry over my son. And I feel the same way about some of things that my sister says about C. (I can't think of an example). But why????

It is such a weird combination of emotions - wanted people to talk about him and cry about him because he is so important to me, and feeling that something is being taken from me if the level of intimacy expressed is too high.

Do I just want people to feel sorry for me? I hope not. But there may be some of that in there somewhere. Is it because I am terrified at the idea of "sharing" him, since I have so little of him to carry with me? I think that is definitely a part of it.

But it is tiresome.

I had boundary issues when BB was born. I really didn't want other people holding him or talking about him in possessive terms (my grandson, or my nephew) or thinking that they knew what his little coos meant. Even now I have my little struggles when he is so happy to see his grandma (which is a good thing that I fully support, btw).

I just wonder if this is all a normal part of who I would have always been as a parent. If C. had lived, would I have felt these jealousies? They seem so small and petty. Is it an innate part of my personality - that I want to be all and everything to my children, with the rest of the world unnecessary? Or it is more than that; something that grew out of my grief?

There is no way to know where this comes from or why I feel this way. Just one more thing on my list of things I would like to let go of. I don't know how possible that is.

* This excludes my husband, of course. He is the only person 100% "allowed" to grieve for C. as much as I do.

Happy Easter

To you.

Lifestyles of... me.

Last night I organized our pen drawer. I went through about 300 pens/pencils, throwing out pens that don't work and sharpening all the pencils. Fun times on a Friday night.

Go and read Julia's post. You'll probably need a box of tissues; I did. I found this so moving. When C. died/was born, my niece was 5 years old. She idolized me. She always wanted to pet and hug my belly. I was so excited for her to meet her cousin and she was too. But because I am not her parent, I have not been the one to walk through the mess of emotions with her. Three years later, we have lost the closeness we once shared. I don't know if it was because she felt that I let her down, if she was afraid to be around me in case she upset me, or if it was natural for her to outgrow her auntie. Sadly, the relationship we once had with her parents has lost it's footing, too. There is a lot of pain in my soul for that loss.

Totally unrelated? I posted more pictures of BB on the other site (the first time since before Christmas). And video. Check him out - he is such the toddler these days.

The project

When the wonderful Julian's Mom was kind enough to send me yarn in the mail a couple of summers ago, I wasn't ever sure what type of project I would make. I believe it was before the arrival of Natalie and just after the conception of BB... maybe. I wanted to make something that was kind of special and that would use the beautiful merino wool to best effect.

Fast forward to the past weekend, where I unearthed the glorious stuff in the grand moving-everything-to-paint-the-basement episode. And a road trip where I would have 10 hours in the car to stitch away.

Then I realized that what I wanted to knit required a different weight of yarn. After much consultation with my mother, I came up with this:

The ribbing on the cuffs and colar will be a aqua-white-orange strip. The body of the back will be orange. The arms will be white. The front will be aqua. And I think that I have exactly the right amount of yarn to complete the project, in each colour. If there is extra, a matching scarf might happen. Or mitts - I have never made mitts before...

Thank you a million times over for this yarn. I am having fun!

I think I am a nerd?

Do you ever just need Bach in your life? I do.

Couple St. Matthew's Passion with an unhealthy dose of sugar/caffeine, I am starting to feel like a human again.

P.S. There is no excuse for sleep deprivation when your child goes to bed at 8:00 and doesn't wake up until 7:00 the next day. I will post photos of my new knitting project, though, so you can see what is keeping me up these days.

In Canada, it's called "English Meadows"

Well, things have improved on the home front. We were away for the weekend, so the basement is still not quite painted, but it is half done. I don't like the colour. It is a green (click on the colour selector and find "Pastel Sage" on RC16 -it's close to this), and it looks too old. However, I am not finished painting the trim white and I haven't accessorized, so things may improve after those two tasks are completed. No matter what happens, I am not changing it. It is too much work. It will be whatever it will be. The general consensus is that greens are hard colours to find satisfaction with.

BB is finally well again and not coughing. We returned the nebulizer and I am happy to report that he settled into using it quite easily. He only cried the first few times.

I am struggling to keep up with work. It is difficult to put in hours of overtime when you aren't passionate about the work. It is okay work, I am just not excited about it.

I am also setting an important personal goal of being less snippy with my husband. He will be glad to read this, I am sure. When I get stressed out (which happens when the housekeeping is less that perfect - read: all the time), I sometimes take it out on him, unfairly. Perhaps it would be more productive to discuss housekeeping strategies or hiring a housekeeper rather than sniping at him. What are your strategies on this point? Or do you have one of those magical houses that keeps itself?

I may quit going to the playgroup that I used to love for BB. Basically, half of the women are pregnant and I just can't deal with it. The further I get away from BB's birth, the less I am able to handle pregnancy and pregnancy talk. I HATE IT, PEOPLE! I can hardly deal with the baby pictures I get in the mail from all of my cousins who are new parents. Purposefully subjecting myself to random strangers once a week at playgroup is nearly completely unbearable. If only I could create a new and better playgroup of people who are not and will not be pregnant....

That's it, that's all.

A Week of "Holidays"

I am painting the basement. BB has a lingering cough from his MMR shot, which seems to be morphing into a full-blown cold. We are going away this weekend.

So. Tired.

I never get tagged

Niobe wrote:

The rules are simple. Look up from the computer, look around the room where you're sitting and pick up the closest book. And closest really means closest. No cheating by running upstairs to unearth your pink-highlighted college copy of The Critique of Pure Reason or the Prolegomena. Open the book, turn to page 123, count down to the fifth sentence on that page, and then post the next three sentences.

and then she tagged me.


Thus:


GARDENIA, Cape Jasmine (Gardenia jasminoides) - 6'h - 2- to 4-inch, very fragrant, double or single, waxy, white flower in mid-spring through fall. Dark green, glossy, leathery leaves. Zone 8, full sun or partial shade; rich moist, acid soil. Use as specimen, in tub or border, or as houseplant in North - not as hardy as camellia.


Sounds wonderful, no?


Between this, the above average temperatures, and Rosepetal's beautiful photos, I am getting that itch again. And no, I wasn't rolling in poison ivy (its all still frozen here).


From the cold of zone 3b, I tag Rosepetal, Kate, Catherine, and Monica. Feel free to ignore - I rarely do memes (out of pure lack of imagination).