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.