Goodbye

The thought suddenly came to me that I should quit. And I liked it. I am thinking about quitting flute too, but that has been in my head for longer. I don't know why I am writing, or for whom. I don't think it is for myself anymore (or was it ever?) so it is time to stop. I get disappointed in myself if I don't write, and I don't need something else hanging over my head that I have to do.

I don't need more friendships that I can't even maintain. It feels like everyone is falling away, I must be pushing them away. But you see, my job consumes me, and it is work work work all the time - weekends and vacations included. I work sleep work. I am depleted of everything besides love for my family. I am physically drained, and emotionally drained, and there is no me left to talk or write about. I guess there is little me to listen as well.

And today I have so much anger in me, I am not sure where it comes from, or where it is directed. But I do: It comes from me, and is directed at me. I am angry at concert producers who undermine me, friends who disappoint me, workers who annoy me, and oven mitts that don't protect against heat.

Maybe it is the fatigue speaking, maybe it is that fucking pill, and maybe one day I will be back. But my emotions about blogging are mimicking upheaval I am feeling in my life, and I want to so desperately change things!

So leaving this blog, perhaps returning under a new name, seems like a step in some direction. I am not sure who reads me, but those who do, thank you for being here. I am sending love out to the blogosphere, because that I have...
xxx

Colour

My writing has gotten worse, my words don't speak. I think in blog form, and then I sit down and I draw a blank. Lately I am thinking about sinks and doors, paint colours and floors, and I like the shallowness of it. I am tired of thinking too much, and these decisions replace any deep thought.

Since Anise was conceived, nothing has importance anymore, and that is how it should be. But it takes a child to understand life, and life force. I guess we know it when we are young, and then we lose the ability to filter what is important. Or it is a sign of aging, fear of the fragility of life as we get nearer to death?

I am on the pill, and it makes my stomach balloon out, and it makes me tired, irritable, and depressed. Or is the pill just an excuse? It amazes me that so much can be going on and really all I care about is my stomach sticking out. Vanity is powerful.

Anise said the work "rainbow". 4 days ago I took out a rainbow puzzle, I am not even sure I told her it was a rainbow. 2 days later we saw one, a huge rainbow filled the sky. The next day she pointed to her bowl which has colours all around the rim, and she said "rainbow". There have been many magical moments lately, and I am thankful for that.

Teeth

Anise finally brushed her teeth. All this time she would hold the toothbrush but refuse to let us. Then an email went around my playgroup friends about teeth brushing and fluoride. I wrote sarcastically about what a bad mother I am because all my friends have brushing their kids teeth since before they had them with a washcloth! Then two days after that without any prodding from me, she brushed them. I don't think it is a coincidence.

I have often wondered about the difference between premonition and self fulfilling prophecy. My sister as a kid had a phobia of her dolls' head falling off, and they did. Did she sense that they would, or did they fall off in response to her fear? I have had a lot of similar feelings with Anise. I have an aversion to dressing her in synthetic material, and I adamantly refused to have any plastic on her bed. Before she was born I ordered an all natural wool mattress for her, with a wool mattress pad. It turns out that Anise is a sweater. As soon as her skin touches any plastic she is drenched. Did I know that before, or did she become like that because of my obsession? Is there a difference. Those are silly examples, but there are bigger things: I am not against vaccinating people and children. I do believe there are flaws in the way we administer them, and the amount we give. I also realize that it is a subject that even doctors know little about, and that it is an area which is hard to test. But I have an irrational fear about vaccinating Anise (she is partially), and since I have been right about so many little things, I think I should I listen to myself. I am finally beginning to listen to myself. It took 21 and a half months.

Wrinkles

Why is everything hard for me? I am not the onlt person on earth to have a toddler, other people manage. They look great, cook dinner, and even clean their house! Why am I so hopeless? Why am I so tired? This debilitating fatigue that is here, that makes things so difficult, will it ever go away? Is it something I am not eating? Is it because I am not exercising? Is there something wrong with me? Is it because I am over my ideal weight? Am I doing something wrong? Is it all in my head? Anise wakes up so early, this morning 5am, and by 4pm carrying her upstairs is literally hell. Fatigue has all sorts of side effects: depression, mistakes, panics, and wrinkles, to name a few.

I gave up my diet. After my failed fertility treatment I had this strange surge of energy. It was the contrast between the normal me and the hormone laden me, and I felt great. I had the energy it took to diet (because it takes a hell of a lot of energy) and I did it for 1 week. How pathetic! Then I got sick - a really bad cold. I have not been sick in over a year, I think dieting weakened my immune system. Then Anise got sick, then Husband got sick, then we were away - there was no way! And now we moved, are not living at home, and my treatment starts tonight (back on birth control pills) collection is a little over a month away. Not the time to be dieting - right? Right! Then why do I feel like such a loser?

I lost it the other night. I was so calm before we moved, and excited, denying that any of this was stressful. Then I got so tired that I couldn't sleep, and I cried. Knowing I can't catch upon sleep, nor can I stop to lie down during the day, at night feels like a version of hell. The perpetualness of it is what is horrible. So I finally cried, and I felt the grief and pain that is in my body - the longing for, and loss of a child again. It hurts. I can deny it, and then it hurts again. I am good at burying it - I have to , but it comes back to haunt me sometimes.

This time I am ready. I want a baby (it is impossible to be more tired, right?). Last time, I wasn't. I did not feel ready, maybe that is why it didn't work. So here I go again, on the roller coaster of why's and maybes, and hopes and fantasies. Oh well. It is my choice. And my house is going to be great.

I Am Still Here

I am behind, behind, behind on the blogging front! What to do first, read, write?

We are renovating our house. Gutting the whole first floor. So we spent the last week moving and preparing. We are moved out, staying at my in-law's empty apartment. It feels like we are on vacation, I love it! I am glad to have a project which is neither flute nor baby related, and then we are going to get what will feel like a new house, very exciting. Needles to say I am tired tired tired, but I feel I have no right to complain since this is all our choice. Husband went back to work today after 3 weeks off. He took another week off after the leg and sick fiasco.

Fall is coming, the air is cooling and I can feel renewal happening. I love this time of year. Things are starting up again. I had to wait in line to sign Anise up for a program, the first of what will be many signing-up experiences. But I have no time to write, no time for anything. Haven't found new babysitters, old ones are back to school. Plus when your go to sleep at 9 your evenings are short...more later.

Vacation

Here's a little taste of our vacation:
First day: I got sick.
2nd day: I got progressively worse.
3rd day: Husband sprained his ankle badly, had to go to hospital, he is on crutches.
4th day: I was sicker, but we got through the day somehow, and I got Anise's diarrhea on me (that's just a detail).
4th night: we were all up for most of the night, Anise asked for noodles at 1 in the morning, what was i supposed to do?
5th day: I drove us home (not all the way, we decided to break up the trip, I am writing this from a hotel part way home) Anise puked in hotel when we got here, and then again on me in a restaurant.

I am feeling somewhat better.

Too bad, because I really could have used a vacation...

Breathe

We are going to the beach, on vacation. Yay!

Home

I have been feeling better lately. I think. It doesn't matter anyway, because hoping, longing, and wishing are useless. Those artificial emotions that I felt during these past 8 weeks, since the treatment began, have been hard to shake. It makes it easy to lose sight of the present. But now I have no choice. I can be angry and sad, but that won't change the outcome either, and the reality is that right now, today, I am happy. I felt like I got thrown back to 4 years ago when I wasn't. And so, I joined Weight Watchers. Yes, I did it, I took the plunge and I have to admit I feel hungry. But maybe this will be a way for me to channel some of my desire for control.

I recognized that I like control. I am not a control freak, but I do like to take chanrge of things as much as I can. I worried about that before having Anise, I really did not want to be a controlling parent. The opposite happened. After Anise was born I enjoyed the thrill of having someone else in charge! Now I see that Anise likes to be in control of her own destiny. She has this mischievous smile when she does something she isn't supposed to, and then she pretends that she stopped because she decided to, not because I asked her to.

I cannot make a baby. There is a possibility that I can, but it won't be from anything I do. Can I truly believe that? I have no choice. Missing the present would be more loss.

Nope

Fuck. Shit. Merde. Putain. Tears.

Not Pregnant (I think)

So things are not looking good. I have had a bit of spotting, and a pregnancy test done yesterday was negative. I have been having mega PMS. It isn't 100% confirmed (I did do my test a little early), I will know for sure tomorrow, but it is most probably a no. This "difficult" period reveals to myself just how fucked up I am. The mental tornadoes of dialog that go through my head are really insane.

I could not wait to do the test. A normal person would have waited for the blood test which was originally scheduled for Thursday, or would have done a home test the day before. Not I. I had to do it on Monday because I was going insane.

I am sad, and the grief is weird. I didn't cry until I passed by an American Apparel store yesterday and this was the link: I had bought a turtle neck there about a week before Anise was born, and I wore it every day until she was born. I had a flashback to the days preceding her birth and I was overcome with sadness. It brought me to her birth, the experience of which is still in me physically, and in a sad way. I don't know why. But I do know why. When they pulled Anise out they yelled "it's a girl" and I cried with joy. Then they yelled "she's flat" and it was a good 20 seconds before I knew if she was ok. Those 20 seconds got stuck in my body. I knew for a very brief moment what it could have felt like to lose her. This failed IVF is bringing up feelings of the fragility of life, and in particular Anise's life. How lucky we were that we got pregnant right away last time, and how lucky were we that she was ok. Now it seems so difficult and complicated, and we are now realizing that never having another child is a possibility. I was confident going in, that although our embryos are fucked up, my body fertility wise, was still young enough.

I feel somehow this is my fault. But that feeling of guilt is not me actually feeling responsible, it is more than that, it is my ego talking because if it my fault that it didn't work, then I can also choose to make it work, and that gives me an illusion of control. If I can control it, then I can make it happen next time. If only there were something more I could do. What do you have to eat to produce healthier eggs?

I don't have theories about when life begins. But if it does begin at conception, then even though this embryo didn't stick, I still touched its life. And my feelings of loss could be an actual loss of this life that was inside of me, even if only for a short time. And that is why I am scared for Anise.

Isn't it amusing how I can come up with all sorts of elaborate theories of loss and sadness, instead of just feeling it is normal to be sad and disappointed that this IVF cycle didn't work? I want to put up a brave face. Failure is part of these procedures, and I knew that going in. Some people have to do this 10 times.

And you know what bothers me the most about this whole thing? My weight. that is what I have been obsessing about. After all that it is only my vanity that matters.

At least I mourned yesterday, and was able to close the chapter. Then I woke up this morning with renewed false hope that there is a real possibility. Maybe it was too early for the test, and sometimes people have some spotting...

I go for my blood test tomorrow.

4 More Days

Putting the question out of my mind. Distracting myself. Not thinking about it.
But there is still a voice:

- I am getting my period
- My hair is still falling out, so I am not pg
- I have a bit of spotting, so it is my period for sure
- I am having hot and cold flashes
- I don't want to have to go through this again
- I should have rested more
- I should have gone for acupuncture
- I should have gone for hypnosis
- I should have gone to a naturopath
- I am too tired
- I am not ready for a baby
- I didn't call my new baby to me
- I am still nursing
- I have not been eating healthy enough
- I have not been exercising enough
- It is my fault
- I have nothing to do with it, it is pure luck
- I am getting old
- I don't even know for sure yet

The difference is this time I am not listening to this voice, but I am. Anise distracts, but every time I bend down (100 000 times per day) or pick her up (300 time a day) I feel that I am pushing that embryo out.

Wasn't I an intelligent, rational person? What happened to me?

4 more days...

One

We got one little guy...Better than none, it only takes one. Now is the worst part: we wait, and wait and wait.
It feels like forever, one week left.

Disappointed

I am feeling low. Very bloated, sore and low. At least I am having an emotion...

I have lost friends. Both virtual and local. I have lost friends before due to this whole infertility thing. But I didn't expect that this time. As far as my virtual friends are concerned, it is my own fault, I went away and I disappeared. But as far as my local friend is concerned, I have no idea what happened. Nor do I feel like speculating. It doesn't matter, but it does.

This fertility process makes me feel alone. The physical pain is real, but I don't get sympathy for it. The emotional pain is worse, and now that I have a child I don't get any sympathy either. I am trying not to be afraid, not to fear the failure. But it is hard. Although it feels greedy, I want another child. Other people can have them, so why can't I? I read once that people with secondary infertility are just as depressed as people who have not had any children. For me, the desperation is not at all the same, but my idea of a family always consisted of more than one child, and I would be unhappy if I could not conceive a second, but not as unhappy if I couldn't have any. People (those I choose to tell) keep saying to me that if it doesn't work then it's ok because I have Anise. Yet no one questions women who have no trouble conceiving who choose to have more than one, as if it were so unusual!

No one seems to realize that it is actual surgery. Here I am again, focusing on external validation. Why do I care what other people think? I rarely ask for support from people, and when I need it, I never feel like I get it. Obviously it is something I am doing that makes me feel disappointed, but what?

9 Lives

So we have 9 embryos. Nine little potential beings. We find out the results of the PGD on Friday, they day of the transfer. We may get none, we may get a few. Last time we had 10 embryos, only 2 were normal. But I am not going to speculate on the odds because there is no point in either worrying or getting excited.

Yesterday was painful. It hurt much more than last time, and I had to get more medication than usual. I was nauseous and dizzy afterwards and I threw up when I got home. Then I felt better.

When I tell people I am in treatment they sometimes react by saying "that is so exciting". I try, but I can't see it that way. Surgery is rarely exciting, and having sex to make a baby seems much more exciting to me. It is really strange, because I am not sick, but I have to take drugs that make me feel bad, and then have surgery and medication, just for the remote possibility of becoming pregnant.

The whole thing is surreal, and I am numb. I guess that is a good way to handle it. I am too distracted with Anise to really think about something else. It also helps that I am not in a rush. With Anise it was different, we were desperate. I am no longer desperate, it would be nice if it worked and it would suck if I had to go through this again because physically it sucks. Plus resting is not really an option. But other than that if I got pregnant later that would be ok too.

It has been strange this feeling of being disconnected. I am aware that my posts are boring, and I can feel that I am boring to talk to these days. I have been rereading some of my old posts, back when I had things to say. Where did I get all that energy from? These days my brain is quieter; something I have been trying to achieve for a long time. We have a nice routine going, and I am busy all day playing, feeding, smiling, going to activities. I literally have no time to think and that is a good thing. But it makes me a bore. Or I worry that I am escaping myself, hiding form emotions I don't want to confront? Ok, that was way too much thinking for me, time to go to sleep...

The Collection

Tomorrow is collection day. Otherwise known as egg retrieval. Wish me luck...

The Body Snatchers

Everyone around me is running. My sister, my potential brother-in-law, even my parents started running. My blog friend on Cheerio Road has been too. I want to run but I have a million excuses and they are all good. The only times of the day that I am not without my sidekick is the occasional afternoon (too hot) and after babe's bedtime (too tired). And I really am tired and everything hurts and I need new shoes. Maybe if I buy myself new shoes I will be inspired. It is so hard to run when you are heavy, or feel heavy. Each time my foot hits the pavement it sends jolts up to my shoulders. I am fat, and sluggish. Maybe if I only do 20 min every day? That sounds feasible, just 20 min no more no less, at 8 pm, not too early, not too late. Or maybe I should start a run/walk programme. that seems to get people going. But all of this is too much work, too much chatter in my head. Too much indecisiveness, no commitments. And that is how I feel right now. All over the place, not knowing what will be in a week or two. And nothing matters. There is nothing to do but the day to day , but it is summer! I hate routine in the summer. I want my husband home, i want vacations, I want the beach and the ocean, and I want lakes and the country. I want bbq's and campfires. I don't want the daily grind. I am just not satisfied right now, and my body is not my own. I am being pumped with hormones and it has been making me impatient. With myself and with Anise and I don't like it.

Ultra

Haircut got postponed. I hate when that happens. Now I have dirty hair. And it was hot again today.

Tomorrow we go for an ultrasound (and I am such an idiot that I think I may have forgotten to book it, but my husband reassured me that because we paid 10 700$ they will probably squeeze us in) to make sure there are no cysts and we can go ahead with the follicle stimulating drug. I should be concerned about it, but all I can think of is whether Anise will be ok without me tomorrow. My mom will come be with her in the morning, and I have a babysitter coming in the afternoon. I have hired these college students to be with Anise four afternoons a week. Since she only naps in stroller (don't worry, I am not getting into it) I needed the break, then got addicted and dependent on the break! Anise is good with them, but has a limit of about 2 and a half hours, then she gets ancy. Tomorrow will be worse since I will have been gone all morning too. Sometimes I feel I stress her out for no good reason. I am going to meet with a colleague/friend of mine, I haven't had a chance to talk to him in ages and I am looking forward to it. So yes I need to recharge my batteries to be a better mom blah blah blah, but I still get anxious sometimes about leaving her. Is that me being crazy, or am I reacting to a reality which is she isn't entirely happy being left yet?

I have been thinking a lot about Anise's birth lately, and how can a child feel confident that their mother is coming back when their first experience out of the womb was being ripped away from their mother for 2 hours? Just when she needed me most. I want to sue the hospital for having put us through that. The repercussions are so much greater than they realize. I will never get that back, and neither will Anise, but I fantasize about going back in time and insisting that we not be separated. Maybe if I had signed consents? I am sad and angry about my birth experience, when will that heal? And until it does, why would another person want to come to me?

New look

And tomorrow I am getting a haircut.

Idling

I am singlehandedly contributing to destroying the earth. It is 40 degrees with the humidex and I am sitting in a running car with the AC on. Anise is napping, there was literally no other way today. I am sorry environment, I just may buy carbon credit for this.

After not having touched my flute in between concerts for many many months, I have been having an urge to play again. I don't have any concerts coming up until the fall, and none are my own. It feels great to be stress free (free of work stress that is) and Anise has been so happy lately. Performing is such an intense stress for me. It has great highs that accompany it, but it is like no other pressure. I think I am bad at hiding it and I certainly pass a lot of the stress along. I wonder if I will constantly be weighing the pros and cons of working until one day I will wake up and my kids will be gone and all I have is work. I will then look back and say how silly it was that I was preoccupied with so much questioning, instead of just taking 5 years to raise kids and then slowly, when the time is right, get back into things. Instead I ruminate over the same questions again and again, all the while not really having as much control as I think I do.

I live in a neighborhood with a lot Hassidic Jews with huge families of 15 children. The women start young, probably at 18 and spend the majority of their adult life pregnant or with an infant. I think of myself and my complaints about how hard motherhood is with just one, and I wonder what it feels like to have 13. They have no room for contemplating choices because their choices are limited, and that must be freeing in a way. But I can make that choice too if i wish, to just raise kids (or kid) and do nothing else. I know that choice would not fulfill me, or make me happy, but it looks easy from the outside. Yet if I made that choice my day today would be exactly the same! The tantrums would still erupt, food would still have to be cooked, house still cleaned. So what seems easy and free about that other lifestyle? Something having to do with order and expectations? I don't know, but they don't look that tired.

Round Two

It's weird, in some ways I don't have much to say. Maybe it is the heat. Maybe it is Anise's age, she is 19 months and there is no time for critical thinking. My head is pounding and the fatigue is insurmountable.

We are going through fertility treatments again. The timing isn't perfect, but we don't have the luxury of getting it all right. The opportunity came up to start earlier so we took it. With such high chances of failure it is better to get a head start. I am still nursing. Ideally I would have loved to have weaned, and lost 20 pounds, but here we are. I am being injected nightly, with 2 weeks to go until the collection day.

At first, starting treatment conjured up all these painful memories that I thought I had forgotten but were stored in my body. Now I am numb. I am not thinking too hard, which is a good thing, but I also have this strong feeling that because I haven't been thinking about it, it won't work. It is more of a superstition I guess. I haven't had time to call the little soul to us. And part of me feels that I am really not ready physically- too tired, and because of that it won't work either. I am terrified of having to go through this again. The hormones suck.

I don't know why I have been so tired. Anise sleeps through the night. She wakes up early (mostly 5am) but a lot of people wake up at 5am on purpose. I guess I am just a tired person. Strange how fatigue has never been a legitimate complaint for me, it has always been associated with laziness, as if it weren't real, an excuse for not doing things. But now I do everything, but I crash at 9pm, or do things with a heaviness that astounds me. I keep hoping it will go away.

For Real

I went to visit a colleague today who's husband is a famous baroque music scholar. In the 1960's he was responsible for the revival of the baroque oboe, and he has written a couple of books. We are privileged here in Montreal to have him around. Every time I visit him he tells me fascinating things and is actually interested in talking to me. Today I went to see him with Anise, and he was talking to me about his new thoughts and his new subject of interest (an Indian musician's opinion that there is a difference between improvisation and composition, a comment with which he disagrees). Meanwhile I was thinking how strange it is to be in a time and space where I no longer have time to think. I hardly ever think, and if i do it is about Anise. Sometimes about felting a sheep, but that is unusual. Then Anise put her hands on either side of my face and gave me multiple kisses on the lips and I thought, this is the best thing in the whole world.

Back?

Should I write again? Will anyone know I am here? (they might if they have that google reader thing).

I still think in blog form, therefore I should keep writing.

I'll give it a try.

There, it wasn't that hard!!

PMS

I am annoyed that I haven't been able to blog more, and I am worried that I am going to lose my blogger friends.

I have been in rehearsals this week, I have a gig with orchestra this week. A lot of rehearsal, and 4 concerts. It hasn't been too bad, but I find it hard to leave in the morning. Anise gets upset when I leave, and even though I know she is fine the second I am out of sight, leaving to the sound of screaming is not a light happy way to go to work.

The rehearsals have been fine, but the leave me physically exhausted, and have me conflicted about work. It is something I have been thinking a lot about anyway recently. I have been thinking of quitting completely, then I get a gig and am reminded that I do love to play. Then I come home and Anise is clingy, doesn't go to sleep as happily, I am irritable because I am tired, and I am reminded that this type of irregular and intense work is too hard for us right now. I could go on and on, but this is so boring.

I have my period and everything hurts me. I think this month I had record pms, I had it all, insomnia, night sweats, headaches, and zits to top it off! Only because I am showing my face in public for the first time in a while...

It is 8pm, Husband is out for a much needed friend outing and I am in bed with my computer, I should do this more often.

Off to watch a movie!!

Renew

Time, or having time, is all warped these days. I have time to spend one hour going for a walk, and only getting as far as our block. I have time to admire every pebble, every step, every flower, every house. But no time to talk on the phone, or write an email. Isn't that great? I think it is, except when I have to write an email, or feel like posting a blog entry. I have written so many in my head, but I guess that is where they will stay.

I went to a funeral on Thursday, my great-aunt's husband. It wasn't a close relation, and he had been sick for a while, so it wasn't upsetting for me. But as the Cantor was singing and the Rabbi talking, I was thinking about my relationship with judaism. The comfort or the discomfort I feel when at a Jewish religious service. Hearing a cantor reminds me of my childhood, and I was thinking about how I wish that it wouldn't feel foreign for Anise. But I know I would never send her to a Jewish school, and I don't think I would be comfortable bringing her to synagogue, so how would she ever be exposed to that? I could take her to synagogue on high holidays, but how would I do that without the hypocrisy?

The Rabbi spoke about my great uncle, and of the fact that he was a holocaust survivor. He survived Auschwitz. And that became his identity. And they are dying. The last of the survivors, we are starting fresh, without that as a constant theme. Will some of the sadness also dissipate? What will Judaism feel like without those people? I grew up with the stories, and the music the songs, and the heaviness of the holocaust. Anise won't, and in some ways that is a good thing. Will she feel comfort when she goes to s Jewish service? Or will it feel foreign? How will I teach her all those beautiful songs? I have long forgotten the words.

Quiet

Shhhhh. I am hiding upstairs. Anise is downstairs with the babysitter and she doesn't know that I am here. I feel so guilty, as if I am spying on her and lying to her. She is remarkably quiet, especially considering she woke up from a nap. She is never like that with me!!! I don't hear one single whine. What do I do wrong?
Today I was supposed to stay home to get stuff done. I got nothing done. Oh well...at least I wrote this.

Spring

The days are getting longer, the weather nicer, and sleep is leaving us. No longer easy bedtime, no longer full nights without waking up, and naps are - forget it.

We are tired! Not any tired, but a great big tired. We need a week, no make that two, to really catch up. But we never will.

Husband thinks I should go away for a night. A whole night! Wouldn't that be amazing! No computer, just books. And me by myself in a hotel room, free to sleep as much as I want! It sounds like heaven and I think I just might do it.

It is spring (well almost, if you ignore the fact that it snowed all weekend) and that makes me want to clean. Since I can't clean because I wouldn't even know where to begin, I find myself longing for a new house instead. And if I can't have a new house, then maybe I would like to add a story to our house. Or maybe I should get new hair. A new hairstyle, but I want it long again and that requires patience. Which I don't have. If I did it would be easier to lose weight. That brings me to my next problem, losing weight. Which sucks. The stupid gym takes up all my time, plus I hate it, plus it weighs on me. But it is time to lose all this weight and hopefully all my other shit will melt away as well.

Yay spring.

Transition

I belong to a mom's group, we meet every Tuesday evening for 2 hours. It is a "Waldorf inspired mom's group" led by a kooky woman who was a Waldorf instructor, is inspired by Magda Gerber, and is a midwife for baby clowns (see what I mean when I say kooky). But this group is great, full of six bright, passionate, dogmatic, strong, intelligent, articulate woman, all coming from different places with different stories. We all have kids similar in age. The goal of this group is to nurture moms. I love that concept. We belong to so many child centric groups, it is refreshing and inspiring to be focused on mothers.

We begin each meeting with a check-in. We all say where we are, what we have been thinking lately. No one answers we just all listen and then breathe. Last night I realized where I was, and where Anise is: we are in transition. A good transition. Anise is walking now, and besides being the cutest thing on earth, it is incredible watching how proud she is of herself, and how she is just opening up and enjoying her new skill, and new independence. I have so many questions about child rearing, about activities, about how to be. I finally have a place where those can be answered.

I am learning so much. I have been reading a bit, but taking things slow (having learned from my past experiences with trying to follow a method when it comes to children). I have not formed an opinion about Waldorf education, because I am learning about it in bits. I don't feel like reading Steiner right now, nor do I want to read about Anthroposophy. But I love the mood, the energy and the spirituality of this group. And I love the wisdom this woman imparts. People have been putting books into circulation, and last night I put my copy of Momma Zen into the pile. Interestingly enough the topic of guilt came up for the first time. I feel guilt is such a strong prevalent negative force among educated moms I was surprised it had never came up before. How relevant then, was Momma Zen. The answer we all gave (independently) for dealing with guilt was being present (and that is what Momma Zen is all about).

I have been thinking about approaches, and my approach with Anise. I have been changing mine a little bit. But now I am able to step back and know that there is no answer and no right way of doing things, and I am proud of myself for remembering that.

Transfer

Today I had had it. I reached my limit. The day was screwed up, I was screwed up. Feeling guilty, angry, frustrated. I drove Husband absolutely crazy. I am trying to be strict with routine, but trying to include some activity. How do we have a routine when every day is different?

By this morning we had managed to totally screw up Anise's nap. She fell asleep in the car, (at the wrong time) and then we tried the good old fashioned transfer from car to crib. Nobody believes me when I say it doesn't work, so I thought why not try (again) so that I am not making false assumptions. Of course it didn't work, so we rushed her out in the stroller, but by then she was up and no sleep was coming. So we rushed home, her lunch was late, and I was pissed.

At that point I realized that I had no physical way of putting her to sleep for a nap anymore. Stroller was no longer working, rocking, nursing, car, singing, crib, cuddling, dancing, tv. Nothing.

So I lay down with Anise on my bed and I told her to go to sleep. And she did. She knows.

I am hoping this is a turning point.

And I can breathe a sigh of relief. I am mad at myself for all the emotional energy spent on this issue of sleep. But I can't get out of it. I don't know how.

Minimizing the Expectation Gap

The first time I threw a dart it was 15 years ago, at a dart board I had bought my husband (then boyfriend) for his birthday. It was a professional board made of bristles. We set up the board, measured the proper distance and I picked my dart. I threw it with a graceless movement of my arm, and the dart slowly wobbled on its way to the dart board in a straight line, not even elegant enough to make an arc. It landed right in the middle. Bull's-eye. The next fifteen thousand times I never even hit the board. Beginner's luck.

The other day we bought a potty. I had read somewhere that it is a good idea to leave a potty around to play with, so that the child becomes familiar with the object and will one day go in it. I am in no rush. Anise is 16 months old, and there is plenty of time to work on potty training, plus it would be easier in warmer weather. I showed Anise her new toy, she was very excited. I told if she wanted to, she could poo in the potty. She had also made a huge mess eating dinner, so I removed her clothes, and while I was at it removed her diaper too. I realized we never let her roam naked (because it always feels cold) and that might be something she would like to do. She played with her potty, and then pooed in her potty. I am trying to be careful not to push her to go again. Knowing me I will ruin the whole thing by pushing too hard, so I am going to forget about it, even though it is tempting to leave her naked all day and do only that!

I don't believe in beginner's luck. I think it is something else. Perhaps maybe having no expectations frees the mind. Or maybe it is something more, something deeper than that. Impulses from beyond. A couple of times we have had enormous sleep success after giving Anise a homeopathic remedy for sleep, but it would only last once. One night, or one nap, or one day. It has happened too often to be a coincidence. Not often enough to really think the homeopathy worked. Plus that would be the opposite - after giving a remedy I have expectations!

You know how they say practice makes perfect? Well for most of my life it has been the opposite. The more I try or "do" the worse things got. I know it is the same for Anise's nap. I learned to undo with flute, can I undo my anxiety?

I used to take gymnastics as a kid, and I could always do it the first time, then never again. Maybe it is thinking too hard, trying too hard, wanting too much. It was even like that for concepts for me. I would understand the physics equation the first time it was explained to us, then the more the teacher explained, the more I would lose it. I understood everything in school so quickly, but as the teacher went on my brain said "if this requires this much explanation then I must have misunderstood - it must be much harder and more complicated than I originally thought". So I would disconnect.

Like potty training.

No Naps (Again)

I know, I know I have written extensively on the sleep problems we have been having. I stopped writing about that for a while, partially because things got better, and partially because it is really boring to read! But while nights are good (knock wood) and I am extremely grateful, naps are not going so well. We had reverted back to stroller naps, because I was desperate for Anise to get enough sleep. But I don't find that to be a good solution, partially because with the winter we are having it is just too difficult, I need the break in the day to get stuff done, and I think it is time for Anise to have positive sleep associations with her own bed. I was given advice from someone I trust, who helped me get to the point of no more nonsense, Anise must now nap in her bed. Her technique was a "cry-it-out" but going in every 20 minutes. She promised 3 days. But since I had already been having unsuccessful cry-it-out sessions with Anise, going in every 20 minutes really didn't work. My limit for letting her cry for a nap is 1 hour and a half, and maybe that is my problem. She doesn't end up falling asleep by the end of that! She can just keep going. The more she cries in her crib, the more she will hate going in there. After the first couple of days we had made tins of progress, Anise went down for a nap with no tears, although she only stayed asleep for 40 min (which for a 16  month old who woke up at 5am, is not enough). I figured eventually length would come. I was wrong. The past couple of days there was a lot of crying and no sleeping. At this point I am totally freaking out, because she is not getting enough sleep, and I am worried that will impede her cognitive development. But now every time I out her in her stroller, I am reinforcing  the problem. She would take 2 naps and one would be almost 2 hours if I kept rolling, compared with one 40 minute nap at home...I am really stressing out and honestly do not know what to do. I have literally tried everything.

Will

How much longer will naps be a fight? How can a little person fight exhaustion so hard? I know I can't.

I have been thinking about will. I have been thinking about doctrines (I know I have written about that before). I have been thinking about life plans. I have been thinking about birth.

It is ok to recognize that somehow there is a failure within the medical system. But how to make peace with the fact that it is also a system which helps more than hinders?

This was my plan: conceive under the stars, with my beloved, during the best most spiritual lovemaking. Give birth at home, away from bright lights, umbilical cord pumping after birth. Live in a home full of wooden things, with no television to be seen. That last sentence is half joke, but is significant and representative of what I have been thinking about lately.

This was Anise's plan: come to us in a petri dish. Lift up her head during her birth to see the light, only to be rescued by doctors who need bright lights to do their work. Play with all sorts of toys (and play she does - yesterday morning for 1 hour by herself in her crib!) plastic, wood, silent and noisy. Watch, sing, dance and laugh to the television. No, make that Sesame Street only, nothing else is allowed to be on.

Anise knows exactly what she wants, and always has known. I respect that, and as long as it is possible, I can give her what she wants. And I can let go of doctrines, of things I once thought were "right".

I was speaking with someone who had the perfect homebirth, and who rejects medical care as much as she can. I can understand her, because in some ways I agree with her. But it is very easy to be anti medical help when you don't need it, and she is under a false impression that it is in her control. What if her child had decided to lift up her head?

Then why am I jealous when people say they don't own a tv, as if it were something they can accomplish but I can't. I like tv! But I wish I didn't!! Why can't I just like me???

Uch

I think I am losing my mind. Like Jena I am a worrier. I worry about everything and I create scary scenarios in my head. I used to be worse, and I worked on getting better, but it comes in waves. Usually the more stressed I am the more I worry about other things. But today was worse.

I left Anise with the babysitter to go to a café, catch up on e mails and phone calls. Today was my relaxing day off. I left with a pit in my stomach. Anise was tired this morning, I actually put her down in her crib for a nap right before I left at 9am, I left her crying and told Lenda to give her 20 minutes. Now at 12:30 I decided to rush home in a panic because I forgot tot tell Lenda what to give Anise for lunch. Lenda wasn't feeling well this morning, and I pictured her collapsed on the floor with Anise screaming in her crib. Thinking how happy I was that I put Anise in her crib, at least it is a safe place. So strong was this "feeling" or "intuition" that I couldn't wait the 30 seconds it would take me to drive home, I had to call on the way. Of course everything was fine - better than fine, Anise slept 40 min, was eating her lunch (Lenda knew exactly what to give her). Oddly enough when I worry most is when things go well. When I do decide to shut off and not worry is when I get called back.

I am just feeling antsy in general. When I am in this state I cannot trust my gut (clearly), and I have a career decision to make and do not know how to make it.

***

I hate my job. I sent 2 concert proposals to a small concert series in a small suburb, who heard me play and was interested in a program for next year. I sent in 2 proposals of concerts I have performed before. The organizer did not think the board would like one of them because she thought there was too much solo harpsichord. She asked for details of the program, but doesn't know enough about this repertoire to even know what the pieces are, and they are no for solo harpsichord. Even if they were she clearly does not trust me as a programmer. All this (4 emails back and forth) for a concert for 50 people, and for 200 dollars per musician!! I get more respect from people for my felted bear. I should do that for a living.

Obsessed

I haven't finished knitting my sweater, but I have a new passion: felting.

Look what I made!
and this

I Am Sick of Snow

That is all I have to say.

New Words

Now that I am "free" I have no time! No time to write that is. I am tired. Partially because sleep isn't going so well in this house these days, and partially because I am releasing all the fatigue from a busy and emotional month.

But I did join the gym, and for that I get bonus points! Of course now I have to actually go. And in my current state of fatigue that is going to require 300% more effort than it normally would.

This is the week of second thoughts. I am having second thoughts about the babysitter. Second thoughts about our sleep solutions. I am losing the line between instinct and self-doubt. My career is changing courses, and I have no idea where it is going. Somehow it feels so calm when it should be terrifying me. I don't have any self-doubt about those decisions, but my parenting decisions are feeling hard.

Anise has added a new word to her vocabulary: "dada" to mean "baby". Her other words are:
daa-daa = cookie
daada = daddy
dah-dah = caca (or formally known in public as poo)
dodo = Koji (our dog), and more recently every other animal!

It is a language only I can understand, but it is perfectly clear.

And Anise is starting to walk. I wonder if there is anything else as exciting when it comes to a child's development. It is incredible to watch how it unfolds, and it is teaching me so much more about who she is. I have been attending a Waldorf inspired mom's playgroup (no kids) once a week, so far have only had 2 sessions, given by a former Waldorf instructor. It is a small group of 6 women and is held right around the corner from me. It has been a very inspiring and spiritual experience. Last night we were asked to say in 3 minutes who our child was. It was such an interesting exercise to have to verbalize who (we think) our child is. For me that was an difficult question because I tend to dislike that question. I find people label too easily, and fall into a trap of thinking they know who their child is without leaving room for change. If we label a child as difficult, or picky, then they will become that way. But all children are all things, easy, difficult, sleepless, picky, smart! I described Anise as someone who is not of this earth. The word I chose to use even though is does not reflect my religious beliefs was "heavenly" for lack of a better word. I also said that she was shy and confident, serious and playful, calm and spirited. And she is a gift.

The Universe

is one strange place. Strange things have been happening around here. I quite my job with the only orchestra that hired me. I had to get away from negative energies, but I was giving up nice music and opportunities - a risk I was willing to take. I also decided to put my concert series on hold for the next year or two ( I produce, and play in a Montreal concert series ). Hard but not hard to stop, it wasn't making me happy any more. But it was my way of employing myself when no one else did, and I also got to perform concerts of my dreams. All along my decision-making people would say the usual "good things will come of this, new doors will open", i half believed it just to make myself feel better, but the truth is I didn't care. I have my good things, right here at home. I had no work at all lined up for the future, and strangely enough that relieved me. Then of course I got a job offer - one I didn't see coming. A good offer for one gig in January 2009. but the timing and circumstances of that gig are so weird, almost too perfect, as if orchestrated by someone who was watching my every move. Why is it that when we stop sending out vibes of desperation people start calling? Why do we get things when we don't want them? That somehow doesn't seem fair.

Today I had a recording session all day. I nursed Anise at 9:30 this morning, and she went to bed tonight for the first time with no breast. She has been nursing up a storm lately too, probably teeth, or something, so I was concerned about how the day would go. But everything fell nicely into place. I can finally breathe. And it feels good.

I Will Be Back

I promise. Just getting through this week. As of next Monday I will be officially unemployed (will discuss it more then) but I have had a year's worth of work these past 2 weeks. To my loyal and faithful readers: hang in there please and bear with me! I promise to write wonderful posts in the weeks to come. I will start next week...(or maybe sooner for the lucky checkers).

xo m

The Lottery

When do you stop? Just make a decision that you know is wrong, but do it anyway. Yes, there will be consequences, the "what ifs" and it is all unknown. But I have decided not to apply for those two grants, and simply because I don't want to. There is a reason that will one day come to me in an articulated way, for right now it is just that I don't want to even though I know I "should". I believe that feeling may be coming from someplace wise. Or at least I hope. At worst it means no funding for one year, like all previous years. But there is no guarantee I would get it. In fact there is about a 15% chance I would get it. I could also go play the lottery. By not doing it there is 100% chance I won't get it, but I don't ever play the lottery. Maybe this will free up my head for bigger and better things. And there is one more grant application due in May. That one I can do.

Skeptic

I have been swearing a lot lately. Maybe it is time to stop, otherwise I will have a one year old who says fuck all the time.
It is snowing again. Fuck. I really can't take the winter anymore. Why the hell did people settle here...Of all the places they could have gone.

Last week Anise and I went to our homeopath. I am not a non-believer, BUT, some things do seem soooooo weird. We went because Anise wasn't napping, and I was EXHAUSTED. The symptoms: Anise cries initially when I leave her with the babysitter, then stops (normal), is a late walker (normal), has a preference for cheese and chicken (?), nurses a lot (normal), sometimes pinches my nose (?). Sounds crazy, right?

Well - the day after the remedy was given to me (Anise got it through my milk), she stretched her arms out to the babysitter as I was leaving, and she napped for 45 minutes. Now, one week later she has been in great spirits since last week (much less cranky), still goes happily to babysitter (even waves goodbye) napped yesterday for 1 hour and 20 minutes, still eats cheese and chicken (actually liking cheese a little less). And I have about a trillion times more energy. Some people even pointed out that my writing voice has changed.

So? Coincidence? I think not.

Holding On

I have been falling behind in my writing (and reading). I have been knitting instead. Can't have more than one extracurricular activity...

After almost 2 years without having my period, getting it now feels different. I find myself emotional, it is as if I have forgotten how to handle them, like when I was a teenager. I am trying hard to de-condition myself. After struggling for four years with "infertility" my periods meant much more than a period.

I find myself nostalgic. Anise is changing so fast. I am trying really hard to keep up. Her amazing smile keeps changing. I tried to take mental snapshots of her toothless grin; I knew it would change, and I never caught it on camera quite the way it looked in real life. Now her toothy grin, so expressive, has taken shape, and I have lost the image of her old smile. I tried to hang on but I couldn't. I know I am going to lose so many more of these precious memories.

I am finally exactly where I want to be, and time zooming. Days, weeks are flying by. I wish I could hold on.

I never realized it was possible to be so in love with another person. So interested in every single second. I never knew I would enjoy watching a little hand gracefully pick up a piece of food. The way her tiny fingers wrap around a square of cheese, her hand turns and her mouth opens at just the right time. She is so careful, the food always goes in (except when it is being given to the dog, to my dismay). It is absolutely incredible that by 14 months the world has already been figured out.

I plopped Anise into bed tonight at 7:15, and she went to sleep, she now stays asleep (for those who know me, this is no small feat) and I miss her when she sleeps! Husband and I sometimes spend our newly free evenings looking at pictures of her. And I think of my mother. My mother keeps reminding me that Anise is on loan to me. She isn't mine and I will have to let her go one day. I guess it happens, but I can't imagine how.

Off to knit.

TV

I am a bad mother. I introduced Sesame Street to Anise and I have created a monster. It helped ease the transition with babysitter, they have their TV routine. But now it is time to wean. Have I done damage? Or is it repairable? Where are my principles? I think fatigue has taken over, and tossed out my morals.

I have started sleeping again, and fatigue has taken hold. So strong. Gone is the adrenaline that kept me going. All that is left is a hollow, irritable, tired shell. (Oh, and fat too).

I probably shouldn't post this, but this is why I am writing a blog! To post my inner musings.

But the guilt comes and goes. Sometimes it grips me and is so strong I have to write about it. Other times I can let it go. What is better: wholewheat pasta, or organic pasta? I couldn't find both. So tortured was I that I bought both and mixed them together. Then I felt better.

Close Call

I was getting ready to strike a plan. A networking plan. I would send demo, try to re-audition, go to Toronto for the day to show my face and schmooze...and then my very best friend pointed out that I don't want to travel for work. Oh yeah, I forgot. I got so caught up striving for something I don't want. Why? to prove that I could get it? The competitive-ego-driven-sore-loser in me forgot. I forgot to stop. I have what I want. I freak out at the thought of one local concert, go nuts thinking I have to leave Anise one whole day for rehearsal, I want more kids, and I was going to try to get jobs in Toronto?! Am I nuts? How easily I can lose sight of reality, waste my energy by putting it in the wrong place at the wrong time. Thank goodness for my friend...

Maybe we only get exactly what we want. Nothing more nothing less.

Letting Go

Ok, the jealousy has passed, it has gone. Pushed aside, probably buried where it will no doubt resurface easily. What I have, no one else does. I have my daughter, my husband, my life. I have a daughter who is home with a babysitter, asleep in her crib. A milestone and accomplishment that happened on its own, and has made me both happy and proud. Forget fame, forget fortune, a sleeping baby is worth a million bucks.

I quit my job. My one regular job. I was being pushed out, but I quit before I had to be told to leave. A decision I have been thinking about for years, but haven't had the guts to make. Then the decision was made for me, and now I am free.

I feel like I am floating on ups and downs, things happening without my control, the way it should be. Can I let life take me, can I trust that it will take me where I want to go? I have no choice. But I have the tools now to put things in perspective. One job, one gig, one concert, good or bad. One experience that is not mine, so I can't want it.

So I plod along. No, the world wouldn't miss me, but Anise would, and Husband would, and that is enough.

I have learned when I hit the wall to turn the other way. One thing that distinguishes baroque flute (and other baroque instruments) from modern ones, is that the more you push the less sound you make. Ever notice when you bang on a piano it gets louder? Try banging on a historical piano or a harpsichord, it loses its sound. I have often wondered what that meant for people at the time. Is that a reflection of the way the dealt with life? My teacher used to say in a gentle voice, with a Flemish accent: "don't push".

When I feel I have no options left, instead of pushing I should let go. When my sounds isn't working I put the flute down. I think we are taught to push, to strive, to achieve, to "be strong", and accomplish. And who is happy? That is all that matters. Be gentle. Not fierce. Calm, not wild. Confident, not despondent. I will have to tell myself that a million times, I will have to pick myself up when I fall, because no one else will. But I could imitate. Copy those who have figured it out, be inspired by the people who have it together. Learn from the masters. And I in turn will get to share it one day.

Jealousy

I hate jealousy. It is not me, I don't believe in it. I used to say I wasn't a jealous person, I think I was wrong, I was always jealous I just denied it. The first time I experienced obvious jealousy was during my infertility days. What was different about that jealousy was that I was jealous of people I loved, and for whom I was also happy. I hated myself for feeling that way, it was so hard.

Then there is the professional jealousy. In s competitive a field where there isn't enough work to go around everyone feels it; jealous when other people get work. It is so bad that it sometimes becomes irrational. I am jealous of people who get work that I wouldn't even want, just because it is work.

When I moved back to Montreal from France there weren't very many flute players here. I wasn't that threatened, but it was much harder than I thought to find work. People were "loyal" to their old pals even if they were lousy flute players. Still, I thought, if they want their buddies more than a good player then it is their problem. My teacher said to me "play well and you will find work". So I thought I would create my own work, and show people that I play well. It still wasn't enough work, but became enough once Anise was born.

Last year a new (good) flute player came to town. She is getting all the work I never got. I can try to come up with reasons why. Maybe she was at the right place at the right time. Maybe people like her better. Maybe maybe maybe, it doesn't matter why. And the jealousy hurts. It is so strong it is physical. Last night I went to a concert. On the drive there I was so happy, everything at home is falling into place. Anise slept through the night, I put her to bed myself , she was happy with the babysitter, and she napped on her own. I couldn't have felt better, I have been struggling with these things for so long. It felt good to get out, I would be seeing my friends.

And there she was, the new flute player, a nice girl. I even really like her and I enjoy playing with her. I was already a bit jealous, but I could still handle it. But then I found out more. More jobs she has gotten that means I will never get. And it hit me: I want to quit. Quit playing, quit this profession, I want to find something else to do. Something that will make me happy. I want to take pride in something without the jealousy. I am tired of always feeling left out, I was left out in school all my life. Now I feel left out of this music community too. I wonder how much I exaggerate and how much is real. I wonder if I should keep plodding along in the hopes that I will find my place. How long can I wait? When do I give up? How do I do it, how do I make this career happen? I can't now. Especially not if I want more children. What decisions do I have to make right now? I have to decide if I should plan another season of concerts. The pros: I get to play. The cons: I have to produce, apply for grants, come up with ideas, hire people, pay for it, advertise myself, print the programmes, make the brochures etc. I used to love that part. Now I find the pressure too much to bear, and it is ruining the pleasure.

I don't want this jealousy. If I can't handle it then I have to get out. But how? I feel weighed down and burdened but this talent which keeps holding on to me. I would not be happy without my flute. But I just don't know how to make it happen. I knew how to when I was a student. I got to the top. I went all the way to Belgium to get there, and then once there I made it happen, I learned how to play. I got high marks, which meant I was good by my teachers' standards, and that was no easy feat. And here I am miserable. And I should be happy. I have my baby and all is well.

What a mistake it was to go to that concert. I should have stayed home and watched tv. People should not be out when it is colder than -20 degrees Celsius anyway...

Brain Dead

Grants are due soon. I thought this time I would start early. I always say that, and I always leave it to the last minute. Now that I am forced to be more structured with my work (since I have the babysitter only 3 mornings per week) I thought it would be easier to focus. People ask me how I find balancing a career and baby, and the funny thing is I feel like I don't balance anything. I feel like I am not fully here and not fully there. I feel like I am just scraping by. I basically don't work much, and then when I have to, I wing it. It is as if my creative juices have run dry. I am missing time to think. This is the first time in my life that I am busy. I used to have too much time, which is not a good thing either, not being busy can suck out energy too.

So here I am, busy, trying to come up with interesting programs for next year, instead all I come up with is that the world doesn't need another concert. Sometime I wish that all I had to worry about was Anise and domestic issues. Wishing for something that I know I could have, I have the fortune of not depending financially on my work, yet knowing that would leave me unsatisfied. If not now, then later.

I also find myself dreaming up other career possibilities. Maybe starting a new business, doing crafts, finding that perfect job...What is my perfect job? I have no idea. I think my perfect job would be getting hired as a flute player, but hired with the best groups, some touring (not too much), and artistic control! Sounds a bit like what I do, except that I don't get funding so I waste my time on grant applications, sometimes I don't get a big enough audience, and I feel generally like I am not getting the validation I would like. So in other words, I am dissatisfied with the way my career is going. Could it change? Maybe. Could I make it change? I am not sure if it will just have to go on its own, whether one day I will be at the right place at the right time. When pushing too hard has the opposite effect, it is best to just stop. If the energy we put out is desperate energy people feel it, and generally nothing good comes of it. Which is why things have to happen on their own, in their own time. Sometimes it can be long. Right now it feels long. But I have other worries, like naps! And babysitters! All which seem much much more important.

No Nap Part III

I am in trouble. After what feels like a long time, but is really about 1 week, we have not gotten very far. Last night we did a real "cry-it-out" session with Anise in the middle of the night. She cried hard for 30 min, and 5 min later another round of almost 30 min. The rest of the night was ok. This morning I left Anise with babysitter, and after one and a half hours of constant crying I got called back. This afternoon I let her cry without going in her room (this was a first) for her nap (for which she was desperate because there was no morning nap), she cried for 35 min and then fell asleep, only to eake up 20 minutes later. So the "crying-it-out" philosophy isn't working, and the poor girl has been crying it out for most of the week.

All I could think of in the middle of the night was that this goes against everything that I believe. then I think of the plastic piano and I remember that I don't have to have beliefs about child raising, because all of my beliefs came from a time when I didn't have children, and didn't know.

My friend suggested that had I let her continue crying after she woke up from her nap (I did for 15 min) then she would have eventually fallen back asleep. Not true. I know my daughter. I took her for a walk right after that, hoping she would at least catch up on some sleep, but she never slept. if she could keep herself up on a walk, she could sure as hell keep herself up in her crib. Plus how long can a baby stay in her crib? At this point, we are both losing out on life. this nap saga has taken over, and it is time to get back to seeing the world.

The problem is, every time we try to change a habit, we lose the old way of getting her to sleep without gaining a new one.

I don't know what the hell to do.

New Nap Part II

I am not going to go into the mundane details of the naps. Even though that is what has been consuming me this past week. Did she nap, where, when, and for how long. A whole life can be focused around naps. Since the first day (Tuesday) when she cried for 45 min and then fell asleep, she hadn't fallen asleep again in her crib until today. Both times were after parties and she was exhausted. The problem is that Anise doesn't know how to just fall asleep. Some other times she cried and eventually stopped, but decided to play instead - which is fine - except that she needs to sleep. She has been really pale, and beyond exhausted, but her stubbornness seems to be taking precedence over sleepiness. Her spirits have been good though! And she has been entertaining us the past few days.

Which brings me to this: principles.

I thought I had them. I have learned to let go of them. With principles comes judgment, and prejudice.

For example, before having a child of my own I had decided that we would not own any plastic toys. All of Anise's favourite toys are plastic. And they make a lot of noise. And they play dumb music. But she LOVES the things, and when I say love, I mean can play by herself at a plastic, garish, obnoxious table that sort of looks like a cartoon of a piano, which is over-stimulating, has blaring lights, and a smiley sun that makes you want to vomit, for HOURS. So it is now embraced into my household, and is officially on my list of things I am glad we bought.

Look What I Got

Thanks Jena!

The New Nap

We don't think when we have a baby that it is possible for a baby to take care of us. After Anise was born, my body was literally coming apart at the seams. A week after my bigger than average cesearian, I discovered I had a broken rib. The medication they gave me for the rib gave me an allergic reaction, I was seriously sick to my stomach, and the next day I broke out in hives. The day after that my incision began to reopen. I could barely walk, I was having drenching night sweats, and I was in unbearable pain breastfeeding. I have never been sick before, and was never expecting to be like this after giving birth. I was so frustrated, angry, and disappointed. And Anise took care of me. She was calm, gentle, and she slept. She communicated as she looked at me with wise eyes. She smiled. She played by herself. She was content for hours on her little chair while we had nice calm dinners. She had a four hour stretch of sleep every night when we needed it most. She waited until I was back on my feet to challenge me, and then did it gradually!

Today Anise took care of me. Just when we were at our lowest: Husband was sick all weekend with excruciating pain, (after 2 months of non-stop work, one and a half weeks of vacation spent in bed sick, 2 months of little sleep) he could no longer function, and I (as was obvious from my latest posts) was fraught with anxiety about everything possible, plus we had to do the dreaded "sleep training".

Our babysitter canceled today (I have to admit I was relieved), so I decided to tackle the naps. No more excuses. She cried VERY hard for 40 minutes. I stayed with her, tried to lie her down when she stood up. She didn't seem tired enough, and she was MAD, I was sure this would never work. Then something extraordinary happened. I cried. As soon as Anise saw me cry she stopped crying. She looked at me, her eyes wide with amazement. She stared at me, and then she listened. I told her she had to go to sleep, by herself, in her crib. I told her I understood that this was difficult for her, that it was new and different, but that it would be good for her. She watched me cry, and then she fell asleep. She slept for an hour. Her reaction to my crying was really amazing, I never would have expected it. I am sure she is an angel, sent from somewhere...

Thank you again, cyber friends, for your encouragement and support.

Soft

Anise is cranky, I'm cranky. I feel lousy, she feels lousy. Is it her teeth? Or the separation, or my own anxiety and insecurities that I have passed on? I was nervous for her two days ago when Lenda came. I was putting on a fake happy face, trying to convince her that everything was ok, she didn't fall for it. I know I should stay neutral, and I am trying to control my emotions, but I can't. Monday I will just leave. Everybody is telling me that the babysitter thing is a good thing, that it is good for her, good for me, that being happy and relaxed, and focusing on other things will make me a better mother. Is that really true? Or does that just make us all feel better, because really we know the best thing for a baby is to be with its mother. She isn't four, or three, or even two, and ready for any independence. She isn't even walking. I can try to convince myself that doing something for me is indirectly doing something good for her, but that is just bullshit. I haven't lost it, I don't resent her, I am not going crazy. The only thing suffering is the house, dinner, and my so-called career. I know people do it all the time, I know other people go to work full time, but that doesn't make me feel better, it doesn't make Anise feel better.

Maybe I am inventing this whole scenario, and really it is her teeth bothering her, and she will be just fine with Lenda once her teeth come in (she is getting new top teeth). I am just so afraid that I am changing her from a happy relaxed child to an anxious, needy child.

I am feeling weepy. Stressed out, lost, and tearful. Too many changes I am not ready for them, and I can't make them happen. Sleep has been a disaster the past three days. Anise slept through the night three days ago and we were hopeful and optimistic; everyone and everything is on the mend. Not so. Now we have to take drastic measures because this lack of sleep is affecting all of our lives. No more excuses (teething, illness, stress, separation). But I am weak, and I am soft. I am what some might call "over sensitive", is that a bad thing? I am not comfortable with Anise's crying, I need to help her and listen to her when she cries. I need to be there and comfort her, because it comforts me.

When Anise was born she never cried. In her first three months of life I can count how many times she cried for longer than 30 seconds (about 4 times). I didn't stifle her, she was very relaxed, happy and expressive. She also slept really well. I never had the chance to get desensitized to the sound of her cry, but maybe one never does. That is why now when she cries I feel somehow that it is my fault. I feel this is all my fault, her attachment, her sleep problems. I know there are bigger problems out there in the world. I know we are lucky, Anise is lucky, and all is good. I feel stupid for feeling this way, for creating problems when there are none. I am making a big deal out of nothing. But it all feels like shit, and nobody is getting any sleep.

Babysitter part II

Well, today did not go that well. I left Anise with Babysitter while Husband was in bed resting. My plan was to go for on hour. I didn't leave my phone number, or worry too much because Husband was home. Little did I know he was so sick he was practically hallucinating, and so he didn't realize that I wasn't there while Anise cried hard the whole time I was gone. I took my time and was more like and hour and twenty minutes. Bad plan. Anise was mad and wouldn't let go of me the whole rest of the day. What if she never gets used to this?

I was really mad at myself. I have never been as angry at myself as I have been this year. It is a strange emotion, almost stronger than regret. It is this feeling that I have been put in a double bind, I am forced to make a decision and I have nothing to go on. I can't do research, I can't consult experts, and I can barely follow my instinct. So when I feel that I made the "wrong" decision, I get really mad. Such a useless emotion and reaction. I couldn't have known, and I had to take a chance.

After the anger subsided I read the comments that were posted from yesterday's post, and that uplifted me. Without the support of my cyber friends I could never do this. Thank you for your words of wisdom. I trust you, and I know you are right.

I was looking forward to the babysitter starting, and I just wish I didn't have to feel so lousy, and that it wasn't so hard...

Babysitter

So the new babysitter starts officially tomorrow. I have hired her three half days a week, Monday form 1 - 6, Tuesday 9 - 12, and Wednesday from 1 - 6. I am nervous about her starting. She has come twice with me home, and I don't know if, or for how long, I should leave her alone. Anise seems to like her, she is very gentle and has a way with kids. But I know Anise knows that she is a babysitter, and I can't help but feel I am betraying her a little bit.

In Canada women get one year maternity leave. It is terrific, and after one year I feel ready to slowly start piecing together my career. But Anise is at an age where even though I have hardly left her, and when I do I leave her with my mom, she is afraid I am going to leave. Prime age for separation anxiety, and I will be reinforcing it by leaving.

My goal with the babysitter is to get stuff done in the house, food shop, cook, have some time to myself, and work. Yes, all reasonable things to want, but I am nervous, and I cannot envision this working. It is probably better if I just get out of the house and let the babysitter do her job. When I am around Anise gets clingy. I think the idea that I might leave is worse for her than if I actually leave. But it just feels wrong.

I feel I should follow my instinct, but I don't know what that is anymore. I guess my instinct got me to hire a babysitter in the first place, but now my instinct is telling me that I will be putting Anise through unnecessary stress. Maybe 3 days was too much?

It just feels like everything is too stressful. Husband finally has time off but he is sick and getting sicker. It feels like there is no respite. No stopping. No place to breathe. No coincidence that I have been having bad asthma.

At least my teeth are clean.

Teeth

It has been four days now and I have flossed my teeth every night...

What a concept, commit to simple achievable things, and do it! How great one feels (because it is all about virtue and accomplishment, and of course self-righteousness)!!

Remember

I received my second copy of Momma Zen. I read my first copy a couple of months ago, 7 months to be exact, and I read it so quickly that I forgot most of the details. So I am rereading it. I will write about it as I read it so that it sticks better in my mind. Because Momma Zen speaks my mind. It is the truth, it is wisdom, it is my belief system- it is everyone's. Yet I forget. Over and over again, I forget what this book is trying to teach me.

I am a baroque flute player. A professional musician. I studied with the best baroque flutist in the world, the man who was responsible for the revival of this old instrument that was played from about 1700 until about 1900, but varied greatly in between. He is almost unsurpassed in his abilities, which is rare, usually each generation gets better than the next. But not him; he gets better and better himself. Because he is humble, and he learns from everything and everyone, including his students. I studied with him in Brussels for four years, which is considered a long time. I noticed something after two years of taking lessons at least once a week, and listening in on many more: there were only about three different lessons. The rest were repeats. He said the same thing over and over and over again. But it took me three years to get it, and then one year to perfect it, and then he let me go. From there I flew.

I take the same lessons from Momma Zen, and from Cheerio Road almost every day. It is the same thing over and over. I know it, but I don't do it. With my flute practice it was physical. It was about breathing. It was about letting go. And it was about listening and loving every single note I produced. First, I prepare my breath, drop the bottom of my diaphragm. Then I breathe in the first note. As I play I must relax my fingers and my body, and then I must prepare every note before it comes out, and find the center, the resonance of each note that I play. Because every note has its core, even in a fast passage, I must find it. All this is technical, it doesn't require talent, or interpretation, or "understanding" the music. It is not about having something to say. It is about giving the music its life.

Parenting, and living, is the same. I must remember to breathe, I must relax my body, and I must love life, this life, my life, and cherish each second. This doesn't impede on any artistic interpretation. Nor does it mute our own personality. It doesn't even always work, because sometimes we forget. But that is ok. We all have bad concert days, we are human.

But the key is remembering.

This is my New Year's resolution.

Sick

Husband is sick. Baby is sick. I am getting sick, and have now been going on 5 days of no sleep. Why is life so predictable? Just as baby starts to sleep through the night and go to sleep early, just as we got our evenings back, Husband has to work late. Just as we get a break we all get sick. Now we are back to square one.

Oh well, there is something nice about being cliché.

It doesn't feel like a new year today. It will next week.

Perfect

This is what I would be like like if I were perfect by my standards. This is a run through of how my perfect day would go:

I would wake up in the morning before anyone else in the house were awake and I would go for a run. I would get home and I would make myself an organic vegetable smoothie with multivitamin supplements. Then I would prepare Anise a wholegrain organic breakfast (which she would eat). Anise would then play by herself (with only handmade wooden toys) while I would get in a couple of loads of laundry, actually folding some of it. Then I would drop Anise into her crib and she would fall asleep. During her nap I would clean the rest of the house (using only green cleaning products) oh, and I would compost her breakfast. I would practice, catch up on some reading, and contact concert organizers, producers, and recording companies. Then Anise would wake up and I would feed her a homemade organic, wholegrain, vegetarian - no, make that vegan - lunch. then I would take Anise either to a museum, or the market (to get some of those organic veggies and wholegrains) we would bike there. Then I would drop her in her crib again and she would sleep for another 2 hours while I did my weight training, or yoga, and prepared dinner. I am not without vice, I would also eat some chocolate. If it were winter I would shovel the driveway, if it were summer I would garden. Then Husband would come home and I would serve the dinner I prepared and tell him how much I understand the demands of his job, and how proud I was that he works so hard to support the family, and how much I admire that he gives everything - including work - his best. Then Anise would go to bed and I would give Husband a massage, maybe perform wifely duties, fold more laundry then go to bed. Oh, and I would prepare the home school lesson for the next day. Oh, and I would never microwave Anise's food.


Instead my day goes like this: I wake up as late as possible, groggy, eat an unhealthy breakfast, feed Anise some cheerios and cheddar cheese (ok, organic cheese) then we play. Sometimes Anise gets to watch tv (but it is Sesame Street, and only for 30 min MAX). Then I have to take her for a walk so she could sleep (there's my exercise). Then I feed Anise lunch (usually heated up in the microwave). It used to be as healthy as possible, now it is whatever she will eat, because otherwise she wouldn't eat, and I am learning that a full belly is a happy belly). I never take vitamins, and I don't drink vegetable juice. Then I eat whatever I feel like eating - not a terrible lunch - but certainly not enough veggies. I don't practice, or read, or do anything else useful. Try to socialize for me and for Anise. Try to cook dinner, feed Anise same dinner, any dinner at this point. Play, have a bath, stories, bed.

Why am I not living my life the way I want to live it? If I believe I should exercise, why don't I? Because I hate it that's why. If I believe I should only eat organic, then why don't I? Because it is a pain in the ass to find good organic produce and it is sometimes expensive. If I think it is cruel to eat meat, why do I? Because I like it (the lamest excuse of all). So basically it is laziness. Laziness stops me from my perfect life. If my house is a mess, why don't I just clean it?

I realize I sound insecure. And defensive. And I am jealous. Jealous of those women who look like they can do it all (like a friend of mine who said she went skating the other day - why don't I ever go skating?). I am jealous of people who have fulfilling careers, jealous of other musicians who get hired, even those gigs that I would hate doing. Jealous of skinny people. I realize that my life and these decisions are my own decisions. I am in control of what I do and what I eat. I am only partially in control of what Anise eats. I have two options: Change what I do, or do as I do and accept it. Which one is easier?

A Cause

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to not own your own life. To live for a cause, knowing you will die before you have to. What does it feel like to believe in what you do, knowing your actions will save other people's lives, or at least make them better? What does it feel like to go about your daily grind, except your life is not a grind, because your life can lead to power. Or not. Or death. An early death that you are willing to accept. Maybe if you have seen death around you it changes your perspective. What drives someone to live that way? Is it power? True altruism? Retribution?

We all walk around with the illusion that we are important in the world. That we play our little part and it all matters somehow for someone. But does it? Or is the exact opposite, do we all live thinking we are not important, when each of us is. Maybe we fit into a cosmic puzzle that can't exist with a piece missing. But the truth is some people's death make the world shift, other's don't.

I worry about whether the house is clean, what to make for supper. Somehow the insignificance of it is all that matters. How about worrying about the fact that I might get killed because I am fighting for a cause, how does that change dinner? What if I am mothering someone who will change the world?

Grinch

Everyone is taking a break, and I said I would too, but I finally have a moment to write. I guess since Husband is not taking a break, and hasn't taken one in 7 weeks (not even one day) , the concept of "break" seems surreal.

I love and hate holidays. I get sentimental around this time. I love tradition and I love family traditions. The problem is I have always been on the outside looking in. We were raised in a Jewish home, and never celebrated Christmas. yet the cliché is so embedded in our culture that I get swept up in the Christmas spirit. But I have no gifts to buy, no decorations to put up. I definitely get the urge to shop, and I always hope for snow. When we were kids we used to go across the street to help our neighbours decorate their tree, and on Christmas morning we would go over and watch them open all their gifts. It sounds perverse, but we actually loved it, and we got one gift of our own.

The problem is I also feel this way about Jewish holidays. We have family dinners on Rosh Hashanna, and Passover, but we are the only Jewish people we know who eat on Yom Kippur, eat bread on Passover and never ever go to synagogue. I would never want to go to synagogue because I don't pray that way. But I do miss out on the ritual. There is a certain energy in the air, and a powerful feeling to know that many people born into the same faith on the same day are doing the same thing. During those times I feel left out. I went to a Jewish school for elementary school, and I got a sense of tradition there. I looked forward to the rituals, and the songs. We sang so much at that school, the music was the best part of any holiday. Then everyone would go home to continue the celebrations, and we went home to parents who were critical of religious establishment. We were given a dual message, and somehow could not make peace with the two.

Husband is not Jewish, and grew up with Christmas. Not the North American Christmas, but a French one, which is somewhat toned down ( a little less commercial). He does not feel strongly about Christmas, so we never celebrated it in our home. This year however, I thought we should mark the day, so I was planning to make a Christmas dinner. I still need time to figure out how we give Anise some sense of tradition and heritage, without the contradiction (if that is possible) and without the feeling of being gypped (which we were of course, we got one lousy present for Hanukkah, other people we knew got many many more). However, due to the fact that Husband has worked for 7 weeks without a day off (meaning I have not had a day off in just as long) and due to the fact that he will for sure be working next week while the whole rest of the world is on vacation, I have decided to scrap it. I am not feeling any holiday vibe in our home, and when the hell would I shop for food? Or cook for that matter. So Husband's work has killed my holiday spirit for this year. Which is maybe for the best, it will give me another year to think.

Boy I sound bitter...

I will, however, be making a New Year's dinner so all is not lost!!

Too tired

Too tired to write, too tired. This blog is losing its momentum. Maybe like some fellow bloggers time to give it a rest?
Can't do it all...

In the Car Again

I am finally on holiday. Concerts are done. I have hired a babysitter for 3 half days a week starting in January. What have I done? The smartest thing in the world, or the dumbest?

Things were just starting to fall into place when husband got involved in a huge transaction at work, and I am a single mother again. I can't do this by myself. I wish I could, I know others do, but I can't. I can't put my own baby to bed, which means if husband works late, she stays up really late. Because of this I am going to be the one to push my husband over the edge - there is only so much pressure a person can take. It is already hard to balance home life and work, now with the added responsibility of bedtime it is too much, for both of us. We won't be having a Christmas vacation this year. Maybe if we are lucky he won't have to work Christmas day. You see, he is saving the world, in the way that corporate lawyers do.

I feel lonely but I have the best companion in the world. But the more Anise is marvelous, the more lonely I feel because I want to share this incredible experience. I find it hard to find fulfillment alone, but that is my own failing, because ultimately we are all alone.

We need a break so desperately. Sometimes it feels like we are hanging by a thread. Everything feels out of control, meaning the house is a mess, laundry is not done, snow is not shoveled therefore dog cannot go out, and driving almost impossible. I can't write on my blog, can barely take a shower, haven't brushed my teeth, have been trying to cook. Had to call on help to go food shopping, it was too windy to take Anise shopping in our new backpack (I decided I never want to trapped home because of poor snow clearing again so we bought a backpack). I feel like such a failure, oh and I got my period. First time in 2 years...

It made sense, I had a gynecologist appointment that I had made 4 months ago, at 8:15 on the Monday morning after a blizzard. So of course I was going to get it on Sunday!!

I have been wanting to write so badly for so many days now. I have been thinking in the form of posts, weird. Of course I forget everything once I actually sit down. But I haven't been able to keep up with my blog reading. That is because I do not have a child who naps. I feel like such an idiot for not being able to figure this out. We succeeded with bedtime and nighttime, now I am all alone with naptime, and I have been complaining about the same thing for months now. I admit to being a complainer but I also find solutions, and haven't been able to. It is so easy to self loathe...

Smile

My child is watching Sesame Street. I have nothing to say. Oh, and she is dancing.

Almost done

I haven't had a second to write. But I have been thinking up lots of posts!

I have been getting adequate sleep and thus have been more tired than usual, makes sense, eh?

I didn't realize how much the sleep issue was stressful for me, and now that things are much better I feel this huge relief. Naps are still extremely challenging, only husband can achieve success, so the weekend was peaceful with 2 naps happening each day. Yesterday and today there were only single half hour naps. Clearly, I am the problem. I am running out of ideas and getting tired out. But evenings and nighttime are bliss, and I feel like I can live again!

2 more days of rehearsal, 3 more concerts adn I am free for 6 weeks, yay!! Much needed time to just be with Anise and not have anything else floating in my head.

Perfect Housewife

I never lose it. I don't. I hold it together. Even when I want to I don't. Today I did. I am tired. I am still coming down from a difficult concert Sunday night, and I was alone over night for the first time since Anise was born. Husband has been working a lot the past couple of weeks, poor guy has gotten about 8 hours sleep total the past 2 weeks. But he holds it together.

After not having been out for the past 2 days I decided this morning we had to get out. It is a beautiful sunny day, and it looked as though the roads had been cleared. I am still having a lot of difficulty getting Anise to nap, so I thought a stroller ride this morning would be perfect. Plus I am completely out of food, so I was hoping to finally make it to the grocery store. After taking a half an hour to get us dressed, boots hats, mitts, incredibly difficult and stupid snowsuit, scarves- into the stroller we went. Only to discover that the sidewalks were not cleared and my stroller would not make it further than a foot. There was no way to get onto the road because the banks are too high and the little path too narrow. So I tried the sled, but that didn't work out and Anise got VERY upset. So did I, I called off the expedition and we went home. By this time Anise was exhausted. She fell asleep in my arms 3 times (which doesn't happen very often) but each time I tried to put her in her crib she woke up and went nuts. That's when I lost it. The kitchen is a total mess, I can't unload the dishwasher because Anise climbs into it, there are dirty dishes everywhere. Never mind laundry, there are piles but it can wait. So I did the only thing I know how, I nursed. I use nursing as a sort of time out. It is the only way I can get Anise to calm down, and me to calm down. I have been nursing her a lot lately. I have been too tired to try to distract her when she asks, so I end up giving in, but feeling like I am lazy and that I maybe I am not doing the right thing, is there such a thing as nursing too much?

I don't have a babysitter, and I need one. I found someone, it was working out so well, but she is a musician and her career is taking off, so it won't be working out with her. Finding someone isn't easy. Then there is my family. They help a lot but not enough. Just enough so I can't complain, because they feel they do so much, but not enough so that I feel helped. I hate asking, I feel I am putting them out, and they offer but an hour here and there and with pressure that I am wasting their day. I know I am not clear enough with what I need from them, but the occasional "do you need help" or "I'll will help you" would be nice. Maybe it is unreasonable to ask that much of them, but we are a close family and we see each other a lot. I thought they would get more enjoyment out of spending time with Anise rather than it be a favour to me. I told this to my mother, and she said it all: "I can't expect people to give up their Saturday".

So I had to call my husband home from work.

I feel like such a failure. I feel like I can't get it together. I feel so dependent on other people. My father had to come over to shovel the night when Husband was away, so that I could let the dog out the back. Where was I supposed to put Anise while I did that? I can't shop for food, I can't clean up, I can't cook, I can't get Anise to nap, I couldn't take out the garbage, or the recycling, and I can't bring up the humidifier and my flutes are drying out. I feel like such a loser, and I am tired.

My concert was less successful than usual, if you count the number of attendees as success. I don't usually, success is how well we played, how much we enjoyed rehearsing. But this time I had different expectations, I don't know why, and I was disappointed. It was a good concert, and I wanted more people to hear it. I woke up at 5 that morning, and the morning before that (and the morning after), and it is hard to remain neutral and not get emotional with that little sleep. My teacher would not be proud. He would say to take stalk of the concert, if it didn't go well figure out where and why, and then try to improve next time. I know it doesn't really matter that the turnout wasn't great, it was a 9 o'clock concert on a cold Sunday night. They were announcing a major snowstorm on the news and telling people to stay home. The odds were against me, but I was embarrassed. I felt like I failed even though it is not a personal accomplishment. My own shit is surfacing. I feel small and unnoticed.

Now Anise has cheered me up, and so has my friend M, so Husband does not have to come home from work to save pathetic me.

Stuck

Yesterday we were snowed in. We literally could not go anywhere. My car was buried and the steps were completely covered. My street looked like this:


I placed Anise on her sled for the first time. She looked like this:

The sled however, did not slide so we could not venture far from the house. I shovelled and Anise watched. We had a great time.

There is something cozy and comforting about snowstorms. I think it is the silence. Everything is quiet, cars are muffled. Being surrounded by white is so peaceful. Plus there is nothing cuter than a baby stuck in a snowsuit...

Snowflakes

I am sitting in the car in the driveway. Anise is asleep in the back. It is snowing, big beautiful snowflakes, and it is quiet. It is dark but the road is white, and the sky is white.

My poor white dog is home alone, in the dark.

Hello

Ok, I am back...

Well, sort of. I should be sleeping right now, or resting, but I feel like writing instead.

Just to report, things are going pretty well here. Husband has completely taken over night shift. He gets Anise to sleep beautifully, and has been great at getting her back, using less and less intervention (was rocking, then petting, now talking her back to sleep). I had two nights in our bed (our old bed is back - up off the floor!!) all by myself, door closed! It felt like I was at a hotel. I slept wonderfully, and have been much more tired these couple of days! I lost the adrenaline that was keeping me going, my body had a taste of sleep and it wants more.

Naps are another issue all together. They were going well, Anise was falling asleep on me no nursing and hardly crying. Sunday she decided that she really should be putting up a fight, and she has been winning. My husband suggested I give up for this week, I had a concert yesterday afternoon, and I have a big concert on Sunday that I am organizing and playing in, and I am quite stressed out about that at the moment. This morning, however, I thought I would give it a try, and Anise cried hard for 25 minutes, I gave up and nursed her (which was the worst thing I could have done, it would have been better not to try, or not to have nursed, I essentially taught her that persistence will get her what she wants, which is not a bad lesson ordinarily) oh well, it is done. She is asleep now in her stroller, I couldn't handle that twice today.

But this has got me thinking about what I am teaching. Am I doing the right thing? Who knows, I am doing what I can, and trying new things. I watch her cry in my arms and I think "this isn't so bad, she has me holding her, she is just angry she is not getting what she wants, she has no feelings of being abandoned etc.". But then I think that the energy, spunk, persistence and stubbornness that Anise has are all good qualities. Not to mention the fact that she is confident and full of happiness, am I ruining that? But she does have to sleep, and she has to learn how. Unfortunately this is the only way I can teach her. It would be much better if someone else did it. She would be happier, and so would I.

I do feel very liberated. I realize I was carrying a lot of fear about what would happen in the future. As if there was this looming transition that had to happen, that would be painful. In the end these changes have not been that painful, and it has given me faith that things can change, I was really stuck. My husband thinks we could have tried earlier, maybe he is right, but maybe it has been working so well because the timing was just right.

Last night I had a dream I gave birth and it was painless. I have had these dreams before, and they are wonderful. They feel so real, it must be nice to give birth painlessly (I suppose it is possible nowadays!) I woke up hoping it was real. It was a little boy in my dream.

I feel like I am getting my period. It has been almost 2 years since I last had one! The feeling is bringing back memories. Memories of waiting, but hoping that it wouldn't come. Being hyper-aware of my body, every twitch, every change, every bit of bloatedness and nausea, hunger and cravings. My wanting to get pregnant was so ingrained that I still want it to happen, just so it can happen. We want more kids, and pretty soon, but not right now. Yet I can't stop this hope that I am...

I should be thinking about Sunday. But I can't. I have forgotten how. I have never done a concert with this little rehearsal, we only have 2 half days. There are only three pieces, but we will be a large group.

So, I probably won't have a chance to write until Monday, but you never know!

Silence

I would like everybody to know that I am enjoying the silence. Anise is asleep in crib, she fell asleep without nursing and WITHOUT TEARS!!!!

Victory!

I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you, women, for your support!!!

Chance

Funny. When I read my blog it doesn't really sound like me. I sound rather unhappy about motherhood, I sound stressed out and frustrated. I am not really, at least not all the time. I use this blog to vent, maybe I should write more of the good things.

Anise turning one has had me reminiscing a lot about giving birth, which in turn reminds me of my struggle with "infertility". I hate that word. Fertility issues is better maybe. Just like my birth story, my conception story was just as unusual.

We started trying in January when we were still living in Paris, I was 28 years old and never had a late or missed period. I could feel when I ovulate, and I hadn't been on the pill for a long time. we tried so hard not to get pregnant that I just assumed we would conceive right away. Now thinking back, I think I was already devastated right from the very first month that it didn't work. We were moving to Montreal in September, everyone said it would work when we moved back home (back home for me, away from home for Husband). It didn't until December, which felt really long. I miscarried at 6 weeks. It wasn't so bad, miscarriage was so common, at least I could get pregnant. What was weird though was the thought that not only had I had life in me, even if only for a bit, I also had death take place in me.

I conceived again in April, miscarried at 6 weeks. Then I went to a fertility clinic and I was officially infertile! (Well not really, I hadn't had 3 miscarriages, and I hadn't been trying for 1 year, arbitrary labels set up by doctors to try to define something which has no logic or definition). It took a year to conceive again, with one failed IUI mixed in (which I subsequently learned that is no more effective than having sex if no male factor infertility is involved, but at least the clinic made some money, and doctors could feel they were "doing" something). I miscarried again at 6 weeks.

That's when we hit a low. It seemed there was nothing to be done. I was fertile, ovulating so we believed that there was no treatment available. But there was! IVF with PDG (pre-implantation genetic diagnosis). We went for it one year after the third miscarriage. The egg collection was uneventful, things seemed to be going well, we had 12 eggs, 11 conceived, 10 survived. However, on day 5 the test results were in: 8 out of 10 embryos has a genetic malformation, and each of them a different abnormality. they named some of the problems, one had downs, one turners etc. It was really weird to hear them say that. There was one embryo that was fine, and a second for which there was no result (that sometimes happens). It sounds bad, but if PGD were to be done on every IVF there would always be some embryos that were abnormal, what was unusual were the number of abnormalities for our age, and the fact that they all had different problems. It seemed they had only seen this a couple of times before, and there is no explanation. we both had genetic testing done and we were fine, it seems it is the combination of us that created this problem. In other words we could potentially have conceived naturally, it is all chance. It could have taken us 10 years or 1 month. The geneticist explained that we could do this again and have 10 healthy embryos, or none. It also explained the miscarriages, and the difficulty conceiving. I suspect more people have this problem but don't know it. When you hear stories of people going for treatment, nothing works, and then a couple of years later they conceive naturally, it could be the same problem.

How lucky we were! Lucky amongst the already unlucky, it worked! And on the first try.

How I tortured myself trying to find a mind/body connection. I went for acupuncture, took herbs, I went for therapy, posture techniques, homeopathy etc. I think my Chinese doctor was wrong, it wasn't my liver. It was purely a technical genetic issue.

One year ago

Anise is one today. Wow, one year. I don't think I can conceptualize what one year feels like. It is four seasons, one summer, one Christmas, many concerts ago.

My labour started on a Monday night, at 11pm. I slept until 1am. Then I woke up husband.

"I think this is it. I think but I don't know for sure".

He got up, had to get some work finished. I took a shower (one of the smartest things I have ever done btw...) then tried to sleep. Listened to Vivaldi's Dixi Dominus, I was relaxed. Then I listened to my hypnobirth tape

"This is it".

I felt no different after the tape. It was the same tape I had been listening to every day for a couple of months. Then I took a bath. The next thing I remember it was 6 am, time to call the midwife, getting too painful. Called my sister to let her know. Then it was 8 am and no one showed up at home. "Call again, and call hypnotherapist, because the tape hasn't worked". Three and 1/2 hours of labour and I was ready to push. Creepy hypno guy came and didn't help the pain but I liked his touch (I couldn't bear my husband's touch - poor thing - but remember, I had been conditioned to the hypno guy's voice for months). At 11:30 my membranes were ruptured, and I started pushing. No break between contractions, a lot of pain. Pushing was good, at least there was something to do. Baby was coming, they could see her, I could feel her head.

"That does not feel like a head" I said.

They told me that sometimes babies' heads get squished and they could be wrinkled. Kept pushing. They feel around the baby's head, something isn't right. Their faces fell.

"This baby cannot be born here, we have to call an ambulance."

"This is a nightmare" I said. "Yes, it is a nightmare." midwife answered.

"Now you will feel a contraction, but you will not push"

"Ok" I said, innocently.

Then the contraction, "holy &%?*....." But I had to push, I had no choice.

Suddenly I could do it - the breathing they had been talking about my whole labour. I had to. I breathed, I had no choice. I thought the pain was unbearable before, it wasn't, this was.

It took 20 minutes for the ambulance to arrive. They came and they fought with the midwives, my husband the hero made them stop.

"Do not have this baby in this ambulance" midwife said.

I was taken to hospital.

"Face presentation" they said. Automatic C-section. Apparently it is one in thousands. It is extremely rare. She was coming out lips first. I was right - that wasn't her head we were feeling, it was her lips.

I was in the operating room, shaking from the drugs. It felt like a long time that I was alone, my husband was not allowed in. Doctors were busy, I was not allowed to ask questions. I would find out later that they had to push the baby back in, she was almost out. Finally husband was there "it's a girl" they said. That was the happiest moment, I cried.

"She's flat" they said as the baby was passed along. I kept asking if she was okay, no one answered me. I asked if she was alive, still no answer.

I thought she had died. In 3 seconds many thoughts came into my mind. It was my fault for choosing to give birth at home. It was too good to be true, I will never get my baby. Then I heard it, doctors laughing and discussing dinner - so she must be alive!

Then they showed us our baby, and we kissed her. Her lips were swollen and her face was blue- bruised and blistered, she looked so damaged. Then they went away, husband and baby, and I was alone. I was being put back together again, and it was painful, and long, and other doctors were called in, and I was told to be quiet, my shouts of pain were not letting the doctor do her job. Something was wrong but I was not told what.

Then it was over, and I was alone in recovery. I asked to see my baby, but the rule was not until I could move my toes. I begged to see my baby. I cried. One hour later I was taken up to see her, my mother was there. I held her skin ro skin and we bonded immediately.

The rest is usual baby hospital stuff. I didn't walk for a couple of days, they released me after 5. Being home was bliss, and my baby was an angel. She had the wisest eyes. She looked old and mature, and she never cried. She communicated through her eyes, and she had a full head of soft silky hair. She took care of me.

One week later I had horrible pain, I couldn't stand up, it turns out I had broken a rib, we don't know how it broke. Either from the labour, or the C-section. A couple of days later my incision reopened. My breasts were killing, my body was falling apart.

For a long time when I would think back to the birth it felt to me as if someone had died. I could rationalize my feelings, but it was beyond what I could explain. Yes, I was disappointed, it was not what I had planned etc. But it wasn't that. I got over that, my baby was alive and so was I, that is all that really mattered. I got over the loss of control, the ton of medication I had to take, and loss of the sanctity of birth. I got passed the harsh lighting, and the separation. Something was gripping me, and it took me a long time to define it. It was terror.

Either because I was in an altered (hypnotized) state, or just whatever state a labouring woman is in, I felt no fear. I didn't feel the fear. But it had been there. It was so deep and so great that it did not come out for a while. My husband felt it, and then when Anise was out and healthy he was relieved. I never felt the sigh of relief because I felt the fear too late.

Now one year later I feel better. I have finally found my energy again, and have finally lost most of the weight. It took me a long time to regain my strength, my body took a beating, and took it hard. I was surprised, I am in fairly good shape, and I usually heal fast.

And little Anise is changing faster than I can notice. There is so much significance in turning one, I never knew that.

This has been the best year of my life.

Thank you Anise for choosing us.

No Title

Things change when they have to change. Anise has left me no choice but to make a change. Maybe she wants it, but it will be hard. I knew that nursing her to sleep somehow had to stop, I was hoping one night she would just roll over and fall asleep and that would be that. Instead she decided to bite me so much and so hard that nursing her to fall asleep is no longer an option. But she still wants to. She had a cold this week, her first big real cold. I thought it would be hell since her nose was too blocked to nurse, but she actually fell asleep without nursing a couple of times. It wasn't the milestone I was hoping for, it was more a sign of how sick she was feeling. Now that she is feeling better she wants to go back to her old ways. Well, not completely, she is nursing a lot less during the day. I could feel some "weaning" is starting to happen, and by her own choice. But how to get her to sleep is a mystery to me.

I need help. I need serious advice. I like advice, I take other people's advice when given, but I have not gotten any advice on this subject that actually helps, given the way things go, her habits and who Anise is.

The plan I have come up with is to do a sort of "pick up put down" baby whisperer thing, but lying down with Anise. I tried that today for Anise's nap, and it didn't go so badly, she actually seemed like she might fall asleep, and then she perked up and got really upset. At that point I decided to let her nurse and she did, she fell asleep and she was too tired to bite. So I thought that was a good beginning, I figured if she gets upset enough she will tire herself out a bit and then fall asleep quicker. So at 8:20 tonight I thought I would try it again. Forget it, she found a strong second wind and just when I thought she had cried enough and was ready, I nursed her and she bit me again! So I gave up, now she is playing upstairs (happily).

Tomorrow is Anise's birthday party, so it isn't the best night to be trying new things. Plus she still has remnants of her cold, another reason why the timing isn't so good. But now it doesn't even seem like I have a choice, I can't choose to do or not do anything, she is biting me, so there is nothing I can do. I will have to wait until she is tired enough, I guess my hopes for early bedtime are dashed. Plus I actually wanted to sneak out for one whole hour to go to a party tonight, I guess that won't be happening.

Why does it feel like I am the only person in the world who has had this particular pattern? Maybe because I am.

I don't think I have ever felt so alone. And incompetent. My husband has no idea that anything is even going on. This has become entirely my problem, and to make matters worse, Anise is in a phase where she won't even go happily to daddy, only me.

I am emotionless. I feel like crying but I can't cry. The only emotion I feel is anger and rage, directed towards guess who. I am channeling my fear and self-doubt to anger and resentment. Resentful that this has become my problem and not our problem. Anyway, what difference would it make if it were?

@%*&! This sucks!!!!!!!!

Birthday

Yesterday was my birthday hee hee. It brought me back to a year ago when I was wondering whether I would get a baby for my birthday. Instead of the 12th Anise chose the 21st. I love my birthday, and this year my husband wins best birthday husband award .

Thank you Isabel for your tag. I had some time to think about it. habits. What is a habit, something we do without noticing or thinking? Or something we feel we have to do? Or is a routine a habit?

A. Each player lists 6 facts/habits about themselves.
B. At the end of the post, the player then tags people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

Some of my habits are:

Drinking Ricore every morning (it is a French drink - a mixture between instant coffee and chicory) I became addicted to it when I became pregnant and decided to go off coffee. Now I HAVE to have it in the morning or else, or else what?

Using ugly expressions like "I am going to kill you" or "I would have killed you", you know kill pronounced like ku-hill. My husband pointed it out to me this weekend, I think I say this a lot and it is an ugly thing to say, but I never would have even thought I said it if it hadn't been pointed out.

Another habit I have is speaking to my mother every morning. I have this need to call her, it starts my day. She sometimes annoys me, and I regret that I called, or she talks and talks and 20 precious minutes have gone by. But it makes me glad that I have a mother I can talk to every day.

I also have a habit of brushing my teeth too hard. And wrapping the blankets around myself so that no air (or person) can get in. And slouching, and pushing my fingers too hard on the holes of my flute, and not taking full breaths, and...

Ok, enough about that!!!! But I will tag:
Kelly at Happiness and Other Surprises
RocketMom at Exploring New Worlds

Let me get to my problem of the week: Anise has been biting, really hard while nursing. Does anyone know what to do? I have tried yelling, ignoring, talking nicely, putting pressure on her shoulders, pinching her cheeks, not allowing her to nurse anymore. It all ellicits the same response: a smile. I don't know what to do, and it is making it really hard to put her to sleep. Plus now she has a cold, so letting her cry is not an option. Any suggestions?

Validation

This is what I was thinking last night as I was nursing Anise back to sleep for the fourth time in a 2 hour period: not only am I a full time mom, but I do also have somewhat of a career going, and that if I were anybody else, pulling off concerts without practicing would be next to impossible, and I don't get any credit for it.

Credit? From whom? Suppose I did: what difference would it make to my every day life? Would I feel better about myself? Am I performing just to boost my ego? Partially. I have been touring around the city for this government-funded program that helps bring classical music to the suburbs. Some concerts have had an ok audience, others had 10 people who clapped between movements. That is ok, it is still nice to perform, all I need is to touch 1 person in the audience and my work is done. But Sunday we had a concert in the heart of the city. It was a small hall that only holds 150 people but it was full. Full of regular classical music goers, full of a hardcore audience that would rather listen to live music than be outside Sunday afternoon on a beautiful fall day. We played really well. As I played I was thinking about how much I really do enjoy performing, and that I was pleased that the enjoyment was coming back (since Anise was born I have been enjoying it much less). We all felt nervous, and we all agreed afterwards on how rewarding it is to play for an appreciative audience. But wait a minute, that is not how it should be. One should not judge an audience, and their knowledge of music does not affect their enjoyment nor should it affect how we play.

I think as a performer we seek a thrill and the higher the risk the greater the thrill. Maybe there is an addictive quality to the adrenaline, similar to other thrill seeking activities, and the more we feel threatened and judged, the more we feel exposed, and the greater the risk.

This brings me back to validation. I guess part of who I am as a performer needs validation, maybe that is why I chose to perform. But I don't believe that is a necessary component for performing. I think it is a negative by-product. Or maybe I can blame my parents. Maybe I wasn't "seen" enough as a child and now I am constantly struggling to be seen. Either way I can go around in circles inside my head.

The thought process ends with "what do I really want?". Do I want recognition? A pat on the back? Do I want to be famous, recognized on the streets? Recognition from my peers? I don't know. If I had planned this I would say that the career/home balance was perfect. But it is not. I can't articulate why. I feel like I have reached a dead end and I only have half the desire and energy I would need to continue to get it going. What I want is a break, time off from thinking or worrying about career. I want to focus solely on child raising. I am too tired, and not in the right mental place to take the ups and downs that come with my career. I do not have the strength to swim against the current, nor the strength to ride the disappointment and push through anyway. I don't have the energy to shrug off competition and rise above the politics, and I cannot play the game. I don't have space in my head for ideas and programs, or strategies. I only have space for poo consistencies, sleep, games and food!

Ok, gotta go print programs...

The Truth

It's the little things that are hard. It sounds ridiculous when said out loud, but it's true. The lawn furniture was moved and blocks my stroller path. The computer was changed and my fonts are gone. There are boxes blocking the basement cupboard so I can't get my gloves.

Anise had a meltdown this morning. I hate when people use that word, but she had one, and it was her first. She was exhausted, I know that, but went hysterical when we tried to lie down. I had two perfect days in a row (10, 2, 8) and I know it is "two steps forward, one step back". I know improvement is gradual, I can't expect too much, but it is hard. I didn't know what to do, so I put baby in the stroller and left the house, she fell asleep in a second.

By the time I left the house I felt like it had been a whole day. I feel Anise is expressing anger for the first time. Is it my fault, is she picking up on my anger? Why am I angry? I feel like we haven't settled yet, that the house is in disarray, that there is nowhere to store things, that we are disorganized and I am waiting for that to change. But it won't. Life is whizzing by at a pace so fast we can't keep up. Too many things need to get done, not enough time.

I know husband is under a lot of pressure. I know he is under too much pressure. I know part of that is my fault. But sometimes I feel resentful that he doesn't know what it feels like to be taking care of Anise full time. He doesn't know what it feels like to go to the bathroom every morning with either:
a) a screaming baby
b) a baby on your lap
c) a baby sticking their hand in the toilet
d) a baby getting into trouble and having to get up and take something away

He doesn't know what it feels like to be on watch 24/7. Last night I woke up and noticed Anise was in the middle of the room, she crawled off her bed. I keep watch in my sleep, something which is both fascinating and disturbing.

He doesn't know what it feels like to try to control things unsuccessfully, to constantly be blaming oneself for making the wrong choice. To be completely alone while making a million decisions a day, all of which are both inconsequential and extremely important. To not be able to take a 2 minute break if you need one, (or taking a break because you need one while somebody screams in the next room, which doesn't end up feeling like a break - or better yet - calling on mom to babysit to take a break and go shopping for food only to come back to a crying baby who then reaches out to you with a red swollen face and stops as soon as you take her in your arms, thus regretting the decision to take that stupid shopping break). To be responsible for someone's well being, and then knowing you will have to let them go one day. To be responsible for someone's happiness (or sleep schedule) all the while knowing that ultimately they are responsible for their own happiness and sleep.

I just want to share these feeling with the person who shares everything else with me. But I can't, just like he can't share what is feels like to have to work so that we could survive. To have no sleep and have to function in public, and be judged by colleagues and clients, and then come home to a hollow wife and cranky baby.

Is there a point at which we can meet in the middle?

I am not unhappy. I am not bitter. I love my life right now. I love taking care of Anise, the joys are limitless. I am just surprised by what is hard. I can't prepare for the hard moments that come out of nowhere and out of nothing, and then are over in one second. I can't prepare for the physical challenges that require a strength that took me one year to get.

But then I look down at my nursing angel who is playing with a button on my shirt, and nothing has ever made me as happy.

Relax Max

I can't keep up with writing, no time. (Isn't it ironic I am writing about not having the time to write?).

I have so many ideas though, and this is one of them. Actually it is more a theory than an idea:

In a baby's first year of life there is a prescribed number of hours of sleep they can get. Anise used hers all up in the first 6 months! Others take 6 months and then start sleeping...

But actually that isn't quite true, Anise gets the proper number of hours, they just don't happen the same way every day. BUT I AM WORKING ON IT.

I am taking advantage of the time change to get her in bed by 8, so far it worked FOR TWENTY MINUTES. She just wakes up so often. WHY?

I am wasting so much energy focusing on this as a problem. I have been focusing on nonsense for year "as a problem" and I have to get over it. Each day is a new day to sleep and nap. If it didn't happen today then the day is over and IT DOESN'T MATTER. I think.

I was fraught with worry when Anise was 2 weeks old and we gave her a pacifier to help alleviate some of my pain breastfeeding. Now I wish she would take a pacifier... She just loves to suck, and only on me. Now I wish I could go back and RELAX, and I am sure in 6 months I am going to say the same thing about now.

Oh well.

Sweet

Halloween was sad for me the past four years. Now the sadness is gone, and I feel giddy. I decided not to do anything for it this year, Anise is too young, but I have never seen so much pre-halloween hype.

Anise is out with babysitter. I had tons of stuff to get done, now I can't remember what I had to do...

On the sleep front things got better and then worse, it is push and pull. But she is full of smiles and laughter, so I have to take it as it comes - try a little but stay relaxed. Easier said then done. The house is quiet.

Anise's birthday is coming up. I am excited and sad. One year. I have never had a year go by so fast, and it terrifies me because I know the years to come will be faster. I want to have a big celebration, to celebrate life, this life that came to us. How thankful I am that she chose us. This afternoon I found the perfect place to celebrate, yay!

Now: how do I not eat all the candy?

Proud

Too busy to write. Want to though. Writing in my head instead. And I am proud of me because I am holding it together. Really, I am.

Magic

I don't know how Anise ended up sleeping in our room. Actually I do know. I know exactly where the turning point was and when we hit the point of no return. I also know why. Anise started out in our room after we came home from the hospital. Our bed was our regular high bed with a wonderful "co-sleeper" attached to it. Anise was sleeping, but we weren't! She was making funny noises so when she was 3 weeks old we decided to move her into her bedroom where she slept better and we slept better. I felt guilty (of course) because I had read that babies' cortisol levels are lower when they are in their parents bedroom. I also worried about her a lot, when it was too quiet or if she slept for too long I would peek in. Then, when she was almost 6 mos old she started waking up a little more often. We were getting tired. I would nurse her back to sleep because I thought it was just a little phase, and nursing her put her right back to sleep. Then it got hot. There was a fan in our bedroom and not in hers, so one night I said "let's just keep her here" plus we were tired of getting out of bed so often. At this point she was napping only in our bed. Then before we knew it, she was on her own mattress on the floor, next to our mattress which is now on the floor too. Now we are co-sleeping and it has been 5 months. I love it.
I love waking up next to her, holding her in the middle of the night. I love hearing her breathe, I love feeling her hand reach out and touch me. She has a magic touch that she inherited from my husband (when he touches me a little tingle remains after he has taken his hand off). I also worry less. I haven't dreamed that I have forgotten about her in a long time.
I just wish she would go to sleep at 8:00pm.

Rain

Today I hit a low. I had rehearsal all day today, and to get Anise to nap before dropping her at my mom's I walked with her in the pouring rain for 45 min, got drenched, and she didn't even sleep. I thought I would spare my mom a rain walk. This is what I did instead of practicing this morning. Then I worried about leaving her. As it turns out everything was fine, she slept (in her stroller) for 2 hours with my mom, and she even ate lunch! Yay!
As I write this my husband is out for a drive with baby, we are trying something new. Maybe if she sleeps in the car in the evening I can then put her to bed earlier. Last night she wouldn't go down again until 10:30, her teeth are really bugging her so I am blaming the teeth.
I used to think it was a problem that I had to nurse her to sleep, now I am wishing she would nurse so I could get her to sleep! When she won't nurse there is nothing I can do to get her to sleep. I have a feeling it hurts her to nurse, because she seems to want to and not want to at the same time. She has also been biting A LOT. So now I nurse her in fear, thank goodness she doesn't have top teeth yet.
Maybe all this is a good thing, maybe she is in the process of weaning herself a bit. Or maybe it is all because of mercury retrograde (I believe that).
I am tired.

Sleep (again)

How do you make someone sleep? You can set the stage for sleep, create a routine, dim the lights, read a story, sing, stand on your head, do a chicken dance, but you cannot force someone to sleep. I can trust that it will happen, it usually does. I try to tell myself that every day Anise ends up sleeping. But working at it is sucking up way too much energy. I would love for Anise to nap at 10 and at 2 and go to bed at 8. I think I am doing all that I know how to have that happen, but it is not happening. Then the guilt. I must be doing something wrong since it is technically possible, other babies do it. I had a baby who slept a lot at first, and I have to admit that when I would talk to people who were having trouble with their babies' sleep, I would tell them what I do, as if I were partially responsible for the success. But the truth is, Anise was.

Anise is very happy baby. She plays and plays and loves to play. When she gets tired she rubs her eyes, sometimes she yawns, and she keeps playing. Up until one and a half weeks ago Anise was taking two long naps. But she decided that she doesn't want to sleep in her (our) bed anymore, so I resorted to stroller, which has its advantages and disadvantages. I saw it as a temporary solution, because I was interpreting this as a transition. Maybe even a good transition because she is wanting to nurse less (and the "problem" we have is that she will only fall asleep while nursing) and someone else can put her to sleep.

The other day I tried to be forceful and sat with her on the bed as she threw her tantrum. She got very upset, I managed to stay neutral. Then it started to bother me. What bothered me was seeing Anise angry with me, but then looking to me for comfort. I felt bad. I felt that if I continued to force the bond of trust would be destroyed, so it was time to stop.

Yesterday she only had one nap. I tried not to take it too seriously thinking she would go to bed early. That didn't happen. Not only did that not happen, but she didn't want to go to sleep with us (which is the usual end result of a late night). She crawled off the bed. What do other co-sleepers do? Where have I gone wrong? Why doesn't she like to sleep? She has a gusto for life that is amazing to see, and she loves to play, I guess that trumps sleep.

Part of me thinks this is not a problem, I trust this will sort itself out. We are in transition and I should go with the flow. But another part of me thinks that if things aren't fixed now they will get worse, plus she needs to sleep, and I need her to sleep!

People give me good advice, but it the same as my advice, it is nothing knew, and I have tried it many times and it does not work. Should I stop fighting? I know the more stressed I get the less she sill sleep, but that just makes me stressed about being stressed!

Something in me has to change. I trust that. But what, and how? What I don't trust is myself. How do I get Anise to sleep?

Identity

I remember making a list. It was supposed to be in order of importance. Woman, Canadian, musician, daughter, sister etc. But what I am or who I am is my body. We forget that sometimes. I remember someone asking me "who I was" and I was rambling about something, and the person said - look down, at your body. Feel your heart beat and hear yourself breathe, that is who you are.

Sometimes we say "my body has failed me" but that is not possible, how could it fail you if it is you? Our bodies are just that. They get sick, they heal, and ultimately they die. Sometimes they actually create another body inside a body (it is still weird even after it has happened). But mostly we forget them, or hate them, or mistreat them, objectify them, sexualize them, or ignore them.

What we use to identify ourselves is just transient, and it all could change. We like to categorize, or put ourselves into roles. "I am a mother, I am a wife", but really I am me.

And then I look down and I see a little body sucking on me, and by some miracle, and without me feeling it, milk comes out.

Stroller naps and stuff

I feel like I am a one-themed (maybe two) blogger. It is the sleep the sleep the sleep thing that I am becoming obsessed with. My husband asked me what I was planning to do today, and the answer is "getting Anise to nap". I do go places and do things with Anise, but really my main goal every day is to get Anise to nap, but I am thinking of giving that up. I think I will have a new strategy: I will plan to do something, and she will just nap! Today she threw a tantrum when I tried to nurse her to sleep. That is a good thing! It means we are in transition. It looks like we are going to start a new routine of stroller naps.

2 stroller naps in one day!! That means I haven't changed her diaper in ? hours...

I hate my house. I have no reason to hate it, I just don't like it at the moment. I am in it a lot, and I have time to look around and criticize it. It is dark this time of year. It is disorganized, and messy, and cluttered. I want to renovate, or move, or clean. I need the change.

I have a passion for moving furniture around. It makes me feel like I have a new house. I also love to daydream about renovating and shifting walls and adding on. I often feel if my house were in order my life would be easier. Is that true? I love reading through Martha Stewart magazine and seeing very sparse, empty and clean closets. Do people really live like that? If I want to, then why can't I? I am too attached to my things. My things are memories and I love thinking about them. But memories are in my head and they aren't going anywhere, I could if I choose to just remember the things!

How do I get rid of stuff? By buying new furniture!!

Wow, time to write twice in one day. Well my day has improved, the pee is cleaned up, and a lot of laundry is done. I figured out what was bothering me, talked about it and now I feel better. "The Universe is giving me what I want" said my wise friend. She is right. I have to stop this nonsense once and for all, I cannot have it both ways. I cry because I have too much work and I cry because I don't have enough work. I am not happy with the work I do have. Maybe I would never be. Everyone else's gig always seems better than it really is. I don't like to see jeaulousy in me, but is reassures me to see it in other people. If I don't take it personally, and stop making it about my ego, then it doesn't really matter, especially because right now I don't want the work, the concerts I do have are hard enough as it is.

Last night my wrist hurt so much I though I would have to cancel my concert Friday and the one next week. It was the first time in my life I even thought about having to cancel a concert. It would be a disaster. But I felt so relieved at the thought of not having to do it! That relief scared me, have I committed to something I don't want to do? I used to look forward to concerts. My whole life was planned around them. It is a very strange feeling to be dreading them. What will Anise do? She will have to stay up really late, or maybe daddy will take her for a drive. I know there is always a solution, and she is almost 11 months old for goodness sake! But the terror! What if she gets hungry??? Will that fear ever leave me? I remember those early days, that horrible sinking feeling she has to eat. It is no longer true, but my body still believes that it is.

Ok, bedtime. I dread it. Anise goes to sleep earlier which is great but wakes up every 45 min...

Pee

Just as I was thinking about writing about sadness, Karen posted something about sadness. Weird. Eerie actually because that keeps happening.

I haven't had a chance to write and I have been craving it. Of course by now I have forgotten everything I wanted to say.

I had a scary dream, a dream about my own mortality. This is the first time in my life I have had a dream like that. I know my thoughts about my own death have changed since having a child, because now I really can't die, and not because of my own will to live, but for someone else. But that dream led to another dream about having more kids, or rather not being able to.

I (we rather) want more kids. At least one other one, maybe two. And I am suddenly starting to panic that it might not work. It has made me realize that I think about having another as if it were a sure thing and that is not a good way to think. I thought that I had learned my lesson about planning and waiting and wanting, but I guess not. I use the notion of "another kid" to help me get through the nostalgia I am already feeling for Anise. Instead of confronting the sadness of Anise never being tiny again, or never fitting into that cute dress ever again, I shrug it off and think "there will be another one". As if I will relive this whole experience again. Or as if to relive giving birth again, but this time it will go the way I wanted it to go.

I dream of having a family, and in my fantasy that includes more than one child. But I have a family, and I almost couldn't have one child. Recently I have been reliving the pain of the four years we struggled with infertility. I don't know what triggered it, and it should be behind me now, but I am afraid I will relive it again. The pain was insidious it was there all the time, and it turned to anger and frustration mixed in with hope and optimism which led to even more pain.

I had 3 miscarriages, all conceived on my own, after having taken a while to get pregnant. But for me the miscarriages weren't that bad because they brought hope. The worst was waiting every month. Every month that I didn't conceive was another miscarriage. Then the IVF. I hated it because by then I had lost my optimism and I was bitter. But then it worked! Out of that bitterness came immense joy. We were very lucky amongst the unlucky. What if it doesn't work next time?

Why am I thinking of that now? Where is this sadness coming from? Something isn't feeling right. Is it just plain old stress? I have a lot of concerts coming up and a lot of work to do, and now work is impossible because Anise doesn't nap any more and is at an age where she needs a lot of attention. I feel like I am questioning my whole career too much, I feel I am in limbo. I wish I could decide, either quit and do something else, or continue with my work but be happy with it.

My mom is now here so that I could do some work, but I am sneaking off to write this instead. My dog (who has fleas) just peed in the house when I was gone and Anise just crawled in it. Nice.

I guess I better go.

Mother-in-laws

My mother-in-law was just in town, and she decided to tell me that we pick Anise up too much, respond too quickly to her "caprices", and she did not fail to tell me that she is extremely worried about the fact that Anise doesn't have "independence" because she doesn't sleep in her own bed.

We all have a disapproving mother-in-law, or mother, or sister or aunt. But the worst mother-in-law is the disapproving mother-in-law within ourselves. I was thinking about how those comments upset me, or rather why it upsets me. I am confident (most of the time), I never doubt my decision to hold my baby when she cries. I don't share many philosophies or values with my mother-in-law, so why do I give credence to her judgment of me? Does she prey on my drop of doubt? The problem is not her comments, but within me. I guess if I were 100% confident I wouldn't care.

I just came back from a wonderful afternoon with my playgroup. Our playgroup is made up of intelligent, educated, interesting women, all with their first babies, all under one year. We have good conversation, and some wine. But there is also doubt, and insecurity. Some of us are worried our breastfed babies are too fat (advice given was to feed less), others too small (should not be exclusively breastfeeding), others are worried they hold their babies too much (should let her cry on her own) and others (like me!) should not be nursing baby to sleep every time.

Why is a group of five educated, capable, loving, nurturing women so insecure? Where have we (society) gone wrong? We are capable, mature women, who are financially stable, and in stable relationships. We are confident in our careers, our art, and in our minds, but we doubt our abilities as mothers. Maybe we were pushed too hard to excel, and motherhood is not something that can be measured. Maybe we are working too hard, striving for perfection. Maybe we need control, or an illusion of control. We should stop using phrases like "I hold her too much" and start saying things like "she wants to be held". Instead of saying "I nurse Anise to sleep " I should say " Anise likes to fall asleep while being nursed". And because I listen to my daughter, and because I have made the decision to devote myself to her fully, and because of where she is in her development, I have decided I am going to give her what she needs so that she can fall asleep, and be happy and secure. I feel like somewhere our role as nurturers was not nurtured. We were not taught how to believe in our abilities. Perhaps we read too much, learn too much, and listen to much. Instead of reading, learning and listening to both our babies and our inner wisdom. Ultimately we know deep in our hearts we are doing things right, yet we can't seem to quell our dependence on hearing it come from somewhere else.

Tongue

Lat night Anise bit me. She bit me while nursing, with her 2 little bottom teeth sinking in. I know that they bite when they get older, but I thought 10 and a half months was a little young. I said a really firm "no" and she replied by giggling and showing her tongue, it is her latest trick, and it looks like this:


It was very hard not to laugh.

Routine

Ok, finally a minute to write. I don't know how those other moms do it.

Things have gotten better. Anise has gone to bed earlier 3 days in a row now. My wise friend (not me) whose name starts with M (ok, she is also my best friend and her name is MARIA) has a great theory. She says that babies change naturally when we are ready for them to change. Maybe that is what happened. All I had to do was read the book, and Anise decided she could go to sleep earlier. We did, however, lose our nap karma.

The thing with routine is that I hate it and I crave it. I used to be depressed as a kid because every day was the same. I hated waking up at the same time, doing homework at the same time, going to sleep at the same time. I love change and I looked forward to things being different. Then they were. My career has no routine, sometimes I work a lot, sometimes I go long stretches with nothing. Every concert is with different people in different places, rehearsals at different times etc. All I dream about is becoming settled, when I can finally settle into a routine and breathe a sigh of relief, as if time will stop. It is as if routine represents not having to think, or make decisions. My husband has a routine with an office job, so I live through his routine. His routine means that weekends are real weekends, and a day has a clear destination (6:45), so I can structure my day around his schedule.

When I read all of my baby books I came to understand the importance of routine. At first it depressed and overwhelmed me. I didn't think I would be able to do it. I tried, but when they are little there isn't much of a routine. We did the bath/bedtime routine without fail every day from when she was about 3 months old. Then all of a sudden it stopped working, she wouldn't go to sleep. So I went with her. Then I worked on getting her bedtime back on track by advancing it 15 min a day. That worked. Then we went to France. Then she got even smarter. Then I gave up on the routine because I was spending 2 hours trying to get her to sleep. Now I can't decide when she should go down, I can't nurse her to sleep if she doesn't want to go to sleep, she figured out how to crawl out of bed! Then I decide to let her play until she was ready (10:00pm). Then I got very upset. Now she is going to sleep a little earlier. Now we will re-establish the routine.

Now when I look at our day, I realize there is a very well established routine. It has been there for a long time, but I wasn't seeing it. I think once a routine is engraved you don't feel it, it just happens. It is hard to balance the routine with allowing it to waver. Today Anise missed her morning nap completely, only the second time since she was born! (the first time was last week). What to do? It threw off the whole day! I decided to let it go, and get on with our day. Is this a new trend, is she giving up her morning nap?

They change so fast, yet the change is so gradual. Things happen that are different, yet they are not necessarily new trends. Routines establish themselves, yet their rhythm is always changing. Everything is a contradiction, yet it all makes sense.

It's funny, I have an awareness as I write or talk about naps and sleeping, that soon this will not be an issue. I see how mundane and boring the topic is (try talking to someone without kids), but that is the focus of our life right now. We are entrenched in the puzzle of sleep. Funny how we all end up sleeping through the night.

Boob

helllllpppppppppp!!!!!! I should be in bed, Anise is asleep, I am exhausted but instead I am surfing and watching tv at the same time!! I dread going to sleep because I know I will be woken up, but all I want more than anything is to go to sleep!

Something feels wrong. I nurse too much. Could there be such a thing? Who determines how much someone should nurse? Who is counting besides me? It's just if I look around I don't see other babies nursing as much. Again does it matter? I can think in circles, no- spirals, I oscillate between my angst, and then my wise woman telling me that it is all okay. I guess I should be listening to the Wise One but these days the Anxious One is crying pretty loudly.

Ok, she is teething, and has a cold. Not an appropriate time to be making changes. But I am having regrets. I know, I know, my wise friend warned me about hindsight, yet I can't help but think that I am responsible for some of the sleep issues we are having. I had a newborn who was practically sleeping through the night. Anise was a great sleeper, and in her crib too, all until the age of 51/2 months and it all went downhill. Slowly. Now she is in our bed (which has been moved on to the floor) and nursing at least every 2 hours, sometimes more, oh and going to sleep after 10!! I feel I am losing control, but is control just an illusion? I love that at 10 months old her will is strong and clear. Why would I want to stifle that?

Now it is the next day and I have a bit more perspective. Hope maybe, or optimism, or blind delusion? I reread my book, Elizabeth Pantley's No-Cry Sleep Solution. So far it has been a no sleep no-cry sleep solution. This morning I thought ok, I HAVE to make more of an effort to re-establish the nighttime routine, I HAVE to get her to sleep earlier, I HAVE to be more determined and I HAVE to do things right. Then I thought no, screw this, I HAVE to stop reading, and stop listening to someone else, and keep listening to Anise and to myself (well, to half of myself). Because either option will not help Anise sleep, and one will make me feel bad about what I am doing, and the other option will let myself off the hook. Either way I will be tired.

What should I do???

Another World

Who knew. There is a whole world out there. A blogging world, a community where people interact and chat and share. Like facebook. I innocently joined and then found out that there is a whole world out there, goings on , conversations, gifts and photos. All of this happenning without me. It was like being in high school again, everyone is collecting friends, but I am left out. Not really left out, I do have friends and my count is growing, slowly.

The definition of community and belonging has certainly changed. It is easier to find like-minded spirits, but it is sad that we don't actually meet.

Yesterday my mom made lunch for me, my mother-in-law who is in from out of town, and her aunt who is also visiting. My workaholic mother-in-law commented that "all the men are at work, and the women are having lunch". Thanks. No only is motherhood not a job, but neither is being a musician. Being home with a child is misleading, because one can socialize, one can talk on the phone, go for walks, have a picnic. That doesn't sound like work. But what I can't do is practice, make important business phone calls, write grant applications (especially coherent ones), plan programs, send out cd proposals, print out brochures, ok stop. And what is wrong with having lunch?

I don't know, this whole women's lib thing...Have we really gained a choice? We lost our community of other women who are doing the same thing. I am sure some must have enjoyed it, no? We gained the right to be torn between work and family. We gained the right to make our husbands feel bad because they have to go to work (someone has to!). We gained sensitive men who feel pressure to be home, help out, wake up at night, go to work, make money and be successful. We have become women who can't work to our potential, feel tremendous guilt, or give up on their dreams. True equality is one parent being home with their children (someone has to), but it should be either men or women staying home. Or Women taking one year, and then men taking one year. But this situation has to change.

I thought I was lucky, I thought I had the best of both worlds. My career is not full time, I work often in the evening and weekends, and I could make my own schedule. But it is not ideal. The emotional energy it takes to perform and prepare is far greater than I knew. I was doing it unconsciously, and now that I don't have the time or headspace, I can't perform, or plan , or organize to the level I am capable of. Not to mention the fact that I don't make any money.

Well, that was my rant for the day, now I am going to go back to drinking my excellent cappuccino, which I am drinking at a cafe while sitting outside on a terrace on a gorgeous sunny day, with free wireles, a sleeping baby and sleeping dog next to me. Does life get any better?

Bedtime

I was thinking the other day about how hard things are. Changing diapers, no sleep, constant attention, being trapped. Then I remembered how hard it was before, when I wasn't getting pregnant. When everyone else was having theirs, and then their seconds. It hurt so much. It was the first time in my life I experienced jealousy to that degree. I was jealous of people I loved. I longed to have their problems. Now I do, and I love it! I am happy. Things are not that hard, I just forgot for a moment. Then I remembered. Happiness come and goes in waves, sometimes strong, sometimes weak.

I remember when I was 13 years old and my grandfather died, I looked at my grandmother and wondered how she could ever be happy. When the worst thing that could possibly happen happens, where is there room for happiness? Of course we need to feel sadness to feel happiness, but in my mind sadness to that degree could never leave. Is there a difference between happiness and contentedness? Could I be happy, yet still hate changing diapers? Could I admit that sometimes things feel hard, even though this is what I wished for? Did I have to have experienced loss and frustration to appreciate what I have? - Lots of questions!

They say that couples who have unplanned pregnancies cope better once the baby has arrived than parents who planned to have a child. The reason for that is the couples who plan only imagine the bliss and are shocked by what is hard, and the couples who dread having a baby are surprised by how wonderful it is. I wanted a baby, we planned for a long time. I am shocked by how wonderful it is.

Do we need to be happy, or shouldn't we strive for neutral? What makes us happy, is it having things to look forward to, is it dreaming of a blissful future? Do we feel happy right now? Is it possible to stop waiting? My day starts out with me waiting for the end of the day, so I can be with my husband and finally relax. My week starts with me waiting for the end of the week, I look forward to weekends when we could all be together. I wait for vacation, where we finally enjoy life. I waited for high school, then for university, then for grad school, then for a career, then for a baby, and here I am. Now I wait for Anise to walk, and then to talk, to start school, then maybe to have another baby. I wait to settle into a routine, and I forget to notice we already have a routine. I try to capture moments. I try to take snapshots in my mind, I do that literally, I hear a click and I try to burn images in my memory, but time doesn't stop long enough for me to hang on to the moment and it is already gone. It is hard to live in the moment when moments move.
Baby is up, time for bed.

Instinct

I had a great post in my head when I was half asleep. I can't remember it now.

I am thinking about pressure. Pressure we put on ourselves and pressure we get form others. I was also thinking about guilt (again!) and the phrase "being let off the hook" and I had an epiphany, a moment where I let myself off the hook for a minute and my life changed (for a minute). Then I went back to being normal (normally neurotic). But I know it is possible.

We get all sorts of advice all the time, the best is "follow your instincts". You should not nurse your baby in the middle of the night after they are 6 months old, but follow your instincts. You should let your baby cry, so they could learn to fall asleep on their own, and follow your instincts. You should only be nursing 3 times a day by now, but follow your instincts. Your baby should sleep in their own bed, otherwise they will be sleeping with you when you are 10, but follow your instincts, and do what feels right. Does any of that stuff actually matter? There is no baby police out there keeping tabs on baby's bedtime. But it feels like there is. What feels right is responding to my baby's cries. What feels right is hearing those cries as a form of communication and not interpreting them as manipulation. We impose. We impose our opinions on others, and we impose our interpretations and impositions on to babies. Even the language we use supposes intentions that aren't there. When we say a baby is good, we mean the baby did not express their discontent or discomfort at a moment that was not appropriate for us. We place value judgments on their expressions. As if a baby is purposely being bad by not wanting to be in their car seat anymore. We have to stand back and observe the emotion, acknowledge it and try to help. And stop blaming ourselves.

The truth is that I blame myself for the fact that she is not sleeping. I feel wrong when I nurse her. That is a big load of baggage to be putting on a 10 month old. If someone I admired said to me, "it is all okay" or better yet, "she should be going to bed late, and the more often she nurses the better", it would all feel ok. So why can't I pretend that is the case? Better than pretend, believe? Because I judge other people that is why. So long as I judge, there is a right and a wrong, and I could be doing either. But if there were no right or wrong, then I could be neither right nor wrong. If everything we do is okay, then it is all OK.

Practice

I have a concert tomorrow. But I don't care. I care that Anise woke up every hour last night from 9:30 to 7:30. I care that she might be uncomfortable from teething, and that her whole mouth probably hurts.

I have become a better player since Anise was born. I don't need to practice anymore. I was never a big practicer but now I don't have to feel guilty about that (yup that's me) because I have a legitimate excuse. "Practice" is a misleading word. "Doing" is a better one. Everything that we can do we can already do. It is just a question of doing it. No one can teach a child how to play a musical instrument, they just play it in front of you. You explain to them where to put their fingers, then they move their fingers the right way at the right time. We integrate and become faster at things, but they are things we can already do, it is the focus and confidence that changes.

I will never forget going for a lesson, after a bad week of practicing (which I always kept secret), and being told that I practice too much. That is when I realized that my well kept secret will remain as such. No one needed to know, and if my teacher didn't know, then it didn't matter.

Now I am free. I play. I enjoy the music because I am intensely focused. It is the only time now that I focus on something and let go of parenting. It is the only time the mother part of my brain shuts off, and it terrifies me. That is why I dread concerts, because it means I am letting go, when I don't feel ready to. It is getting slightly easier, but having to do that with a 3 month old went against my whole body and it shook me up. I wasn't ready physically or emotionally then.

After I gave birth I had difficulty "coming down". I was in a state of high performance 24 hours a day. It was partially hormonal, and partially recognizing what that state of pure focus feels like. Playing the flute now feels like a breeze.

I see what we are capable of, and my patience is worn thin. If I could do it, you could do it. It has become increasingly difficult for me to work with good musicians who are not confident, and end up wrecking their music by wanting to do it over and over again, instead of just listening and reacting. It is not their fault. They don't know they could let go, and they are dependent on the superstition of readiness. Some people think that they play better if they wear their lucky underwear. Thinking you will play it better just because you do it one more time is the same. When the music and the ensemble is ready it is time to let it go.

I have to have confidence in Anise. Her teeth hurt her, yet she is smiling. She will be able to handle whatever change may come. I can see it, Anise is smiling, I have to smile too.

Lessons

One day I will write the story of Anise's conception and birth. Not now. But I am realizing how hard it is for everything to go right. I don't know anyone who has had all of the following go smoothly:

1)Conception
2)Pregnancy
3)Delivery
4)Breastfeeding

But it is supposed to! I have never had my faith in nature so profoundly shaken. I had 3 miscarriages, difficulty conceiving (needed IVF), a cesarean section (when I had planned a home birth) and serious pain while breastfeeding. Before the saga of working to have a child I sincerely believed my body would perform. I had my whole belief system shaken. It was like having my religion taken away from me. I guess that is a good thing, because that is precisely what is wrong with religion, it doesn't allow for the unpredictable (unless it is a religion that worships a god, then you blame him). I learned to accept, and be, and be appreciative, and happy, and once again, to not judge. That seems to be a theme here.

To not judge. This takes practice, especially as a musician. We spent most of our childhood, and then many years later, going for weekly sessions where we were listened to and judged. Some of us started early taking exams and being judged, others entered competitions where they were judged, only to go on to take auditions where we are judged, and then perform for audiences where we feel judged. Yet we believe in ourselves, and we take the risk. We risk humiliation, but in the moment it feels like we are risking death (that is adrenaline doing its job). I had many lessons with my beloved teacher who would tell me to play more confidently, to believe in myself, then after one bar would stop me and correct something!

How does all of this relate to parenthood? How I long for a weekly lesson in parenting, given to me by the world expert, someone who I think is the best in the whole world, who will correct me, tell me to have confidence, but "do it this way". How do we not feel judged? why does it somehow feel that there is a right way somewhere out there that no one is telling us about? Why do I feel like I have gotten it wrong. I know everyone wings it, it just doesn't feel that way. this tremendous responsibility has me wavering in and out of different conflicting states of mind. Nothing matters, it all matters. Who cares where or when she fell asleep, she needs to sleep in her bed at an early hour. We have this illusion of control. The truth is you cannot control another individual. You cannot force someone to sleep or to eat, you can just listen and try to guide. And love.

Guilt

I could call every single post guilt, but I won't, this will be the last. I come from a culture of guilt, I also have guilt by nature,and I am realizing that we live in a guilt-producing culture (which by my definition of guilt is not possible, since guilt is something created by the individual. It is also fully controllable and we choose to feel guilty - why? - I think it eases our guilt!). I am speaking about parenting of course. I even feel guilty for feeling guilty, knowing that babies pick up on everything, I don't want to be teaching guilt. But there you go! I am learning and practicing to let go of all of that. If you truly live in the moment guilt does not exist, because guilt implies there are future consequences of past or present occurrences.

Here is the list of things I feel guilty about every day:

Heating up baby food in the microwave
Occasionally giving water in a plastic cup
Feeding baby cheerios
Feeding baby non-organic meat
Not eating enough vegetables
Not eating only organic while breastfeeding
Not taking vitamins
Not exercising
Breastfeeding baby to sleep 3 times a day
Putting baby to bed late even though she won't go to bed early
Not cooking enough for baby (who hardly eats anything anyway, which of course is my fault)
Not accomplishing enough outside the home
Not keeping the house clean
Not cooking enough
Not reading enough
Using portable phones
Using a computer
Watching TV
Vaccinating baby


Wow, that is a long list. All easily solvable by either doing the things I feel guilty about not doing, or not caring.

Ok, now that it is written down, and so is my resolution, the guilt is over. There that was easy.

Who hasn't read the conflicting advice, I read too much. I thought I had a philosophy, now I have learned that the rigidness of a philosophy is absurd and damaging. Now I have a philosophy of no philosophy, and no judgment.

I have learned not to judge, but this came late in life and after having events shoved in my face. But now every time I open my mouth to say something judgmental or to gossip I imagine it is being said about me, and I stop.
I stop

To Write a Blog

"Why would anyone want to write a blog?" I am writing a blog. I am a lot of things besides a writer I once wasn't. I am a mom. I am inspired by other moms, one in particular who wrote a book and has a blog called Cheerio Road. I don't have time to write, I don't have time to cook, or clean, or food shop, or do laundry, but here I am writing. I want to put my crazy thoughts down. I don't know if I will ever have sleep-deprived thoughts like this again, so if nothing but for posterity I feel compelled to write. More later.