Trying to get my groove back

It was nice to meditate Monday night and to go to that great meeting Thursday night, but I also had to organize the Thursday night meeting, I had to work Tuesday and Wednesday nights, and I still have a bunch of freelance and volunteer work to do.

So after two days of no television -- just sleep, rest, play and cooking with my son -- let the screens come out. I tried to attend to some business on the computer and I let him do some watching. Yesterday I couldn't even take him to an errand, he was so whiny about the cold. I had to put him on my back in the Ergo while I finished up work for the meeting and then do my errand while the sitter was here. It was actually nice to be alone in the car. But he was a real tough one to be around when I got back.

He wanted me. I couldn't give me. It was a struggle.

I really hope he will turn a corner at four. I can't imagine how we'd deal with a baby in this mix if I were 7 months ahead of myself gestationally. As it is, he keeps wanting to put his hand up my shirt -- on my back, on my expanding belly -- and on my face if I'm holding him. He kept licking me when he was in the Ergo.

Part of me feels like he needed a sibling long ago. The other part wonders if he -- and I -- will ever be ready.

Clarifying my goals

I'm really writing this after the fact, because when I got home at 10, I just had a snack and read some Brain,Child and went to sleep. But we can pretend.

Tonight (ahem) I hosted a group meeting on "Creating Balance in Family Life" with two life coaches. They had us working on clarifying our values since misunderstanding our values -- or setting priorities that don't, in fact, fit with our values -- is a lot of what causes people to get frustrated and to feel unfulfilled.

I came to the conclusion that I value complexity. I just do. I don't like things that are simple. They are not interesting to me. I like competing themes and ideas in literature, film, art. I like to be involved in a lot of things. I like to see connections across disciplines and from one aspect of my life to another.

This doesn't mean I can't develop mindfulness, or that I can't train my brain to appreciate one thing at a time. I think that is healthy. But it means that it's silly to say I'm striving for things to be peaceful, for that elusive "one day" when everything will be cleared out and have its specific place and time. I like messiness. It makes me feel alive, involved in life.

There's part of me that has always known this. I recognize that I have a fear of becoming like my mom who was depressed and didn't have a whole lot of passions, interests or relationships when I was growing up, at least not when I was really young. So this can go kind of pathological if I let it.

But it's also just plain who I am, someone who likes to be busy and have lots of irons in the fire. I wouldn't keep making that happen if it weren't true. I wouldn't have started my fifth personal blog here if I didn't feel like I needed many spokes from my center.

So, although I sometimes complain that my husband doesn't take initiative -- and I pretend that I want him to have passions that he pursues and schedules and prioritizes instead of stuff he can take or leave, enjoy it and get inspired by it when it happens (like playing piano or listening to music, but not take action to make sure it happens) -- tonight I appreciated his yin to my yang. I would -- at least not in the long term -- be better matched by someone who had a similar temperament. I get to inhabit my temperament in part because he's not taking up/using/inhabiting the same kind of energy pattern.

So when I crawled into bed and snuggled up to him, I got present to what a good thing it is that he is who he is so I can be who I am.

Maybe one of these days we can talk and see that beauty instead of always kind of wishing the other were different.

Maybe we can manage having a second child together.

"I'm ready for you to get up now, Mommy."

No more sleepy kid. Fever is gone. Cough is still here. Whining is still here. Appetite isn't fully back. But one thing that is: refusal to rest.

I was tired. His snoring and coughing had me awake for a good long while between 3 and 5 a.m. So I tried the rest thing again. He wanted none of it. He left me alone for a while but was clear when my time was up.

I do not love being at someone else's beck and call.

I am hoping that if I have another baby that the patience and unconditional love gene will kick back into gear. Because as we are approaching age 4, I have a lot less patience and worry that this is what I'm conveying more than love these days.

Close your eyes

The meditation night was very chill. No yoga, really, just breathing and being present. Knowing I was probably facing a week where I'd just have to throw expectations out the window, I went with it. Not to say that my mind never drifted toward making lists, but it did not settle there. It just settled pretty well.

So when I was handed a pretty sick boy in the morning, I didn't feel so terribly depleted. But I was surprised at how deeply I fell asleep with him for a nap from at least noon to two. We were on the short couch in the bright family room. At some point he even shifted his body so that it was mostly covering my head, and I didn't care. I just kept sleeping.

How different to have a kid who sleeps in the day, who will not whine, "I'm not tired!" and will just surrender to rest. How did I fuck up so bad that my son has not been able to drop into quiet for a full year without reaching a point of total exhaustion?

That's what I worry about when I think about #2. Can I help this one develop a healthy rhythm. We won't be able to just do whatever whenever because s/he will have a brother who needs rides to school. I'm hoping this helps me establish boundaries and that s/he accepts them instead of that we both are chronically underslept.

And I know I cannot go for seven months without ever handing a baby to a sitter, ever. I have a work identity I don't want to let languish, even if I'm happy to have a babymoon and not have some office I need to race back to. I don't love pumping and I will not do any replacement for breastmilk for a year unless something scary happens. But I cannot, will not get so lost I don't know where I start and the other being begins.

Second shift at SAHM

My son is sick. Not super sick, but I knew I had to keep him home from school. He wouldn't have had the stamina to make it through the day. I could tell.

It was just a little cough and looked kind of under the weather. So I took him to the Vitamin Shoppe, the post office (though we left, it was so crowded), to Trader Joe's on the way home to get onions for soup. And I let him watch some DVD when we got home, which turned him into a monster when it was time to stop. And before he went to bed, we could tell the fever was coming.

I was supposed to get a lot of work done today. I got nada. I can't concentrate on writing an article now. Tomorrow is going to be more of the same but possibly worse.

Am I really going to never, ever, ever have any time for just me come August? I know that babies sleep a lot - maybe only in a sling like the first one. At least then I can type and make some food. But moms who are nursing around the clock have to sleep a lot, too. And I'll have a kid to pick up from school so naps can't just go unchecked from 1 to 4 p.m. like they used to. I was trying to explain this to my husband and used simply the phrase "picked up" to which he replied that our son would be older and not asking to be held so much then. "No, like from another place. I will have to leave the house instead of stay in bed."

I tried to sell off my registration to a meditation/yoga night so I could do some work instead, but no one bit. I realized that tomorrow will probably suck, and this may be my only break or time for me. So I shall go.

Not telling in public

Friday I hosted playgroup with my groovy mama friends. No one asked; I didn't tell.

I'm sure there were a few questions about my life lobbed my way, but mostly we were all busy keeping our kids from pissing each other off and trying to share whatever insights/thoughts/ideas came into our brain. And questions about known pregnancies and new babies are more interesting than general catch up.

I did note that my friend who once said it would have to be me or another mom to get pregnant before L had her baby said to the other L, "So you'll have to be pregnant before then" without referencing the other mom or me. The first time I'd kind of felt pressure, sort of a "don't put that on me; what if I miscarry tomorrow?" feeling. This time I felt left out like no one believes I will conceive.

I'm sure no one really gives a shit whether I do or not.

But then I went to a party of a former neighbor -- the people we bought our house from who were showing off their beautiful brand-new home with a fancy catered affair and two-year-old sent away to the grandparents. A bunch of our still/current neighbors came. One was talking about the sadness of giving away clothes now that her second child is a year old and her husband says that's all they can afford.

Then she asked me about our plans. I repeated what I've said before, that we would have tried this summer if it hadn't been for the move. I added that it was only recently that I started to feel like we could give it a shot. But I added something like, "I don't know what my body is up for, though."

There I stood, in a draping pink sweater drinking water at a party where it was the only non-alcoholic drink and I actually had to open up the fridge to find the Brita (there was no water out among the catered food or on the porch will all the non-punch drinks). Her eye almost made a twinkle sound as she said, "But it could happen right away. You never know."

"You never know," I agree. I think she knows.

Still going

I'm still pregnant. Temp back up. It's just cold out, I think.

Or maybe there is doubting that played a role. Yesterday saw one of my energy workers who is really into the work of Byron Katie and "is that true? what would you be without that belief?" stuff. I probably needed some of the clearing but was also a little annoyed at how she pushed. Seemed just as righteous as I am about my doubts.

Little boy did fine waiting for me. But he came up with emotional stuff that was about my anger. Funny since part of my "story" was that I am responsible for his suffering (c-section, etc.) and she was trying to get me to throw off that belief. So it's not true but yet it is?

What role do I have in my progeny's health and happiness based on my beliefs?