Halfway There!

I’m back to the stage of pregnancy that most women love best: 2^nd trimester.  Nausea and fatigue are behind me, my belly is taking shape, and for the last few weeks I’ve been starting to feel some ‘flutters’ from baby’s movements.  Initially, I had some definite cravings – sour candy (which I never otherwise eat), iced tea (which I generally love, and always love more when I’m preggo), and thankfully – more fruit than usual (the latest are mangoes & watermelon).  I was starting to have some heartburn but decided I really don’t wanna deal with it this time, so I’ve been taking prescription medication that seems to be working so far. Usually I tend to wait until I’m massive and almost immobile before seeing a chiropractor, but this time I’ve been proactive and my hips are thanking me.  I’m 19 weeks now, so almost halfway to the finish line, and trying to enjoy this ‘good stage’ while it lasts.

Since I’ll be back in this boat soon, and since I have a few first-time mom friends who are almost ready to pop, I thought I’d finally blog about a topic I’ve been putting off for years: breastfeeding.  For me, breastfeeding has been a really positive and relatively easy process with both girls.  As newborns, both Mariah and Kassiah figured out how to ‘latch’ almost instantly, so I was lucky to just go with the flow (no pun intended).  Even with this simple start, breastfeeding was still quite painful at first – but for me, that normal soreness subsided after a week or two.  After that, the experience started to feel natural, calming, even enjoyable since it gave baby and I opportunities to cuddle and stare at each other.  Co-sleeping also made the experience quite easy since I would eventually just roll over and give baby a snack, without interrupting my own sleep too much.  But the more ease I’ve had with breastfeeding, the more I’ve learned never to take it for granted.  Some of my closest friends have had a completely different experience than mine.  For many women, breastfeeding can feel like a torture experiment in emotional and physical pain thresholds.  Their newborn baby needs milk, their bodies are ‘supposed’ to produce this milk, but for whatever reason, nature just doesn’t cooperate.  Sometimes baby can’t figure out how to latch properly, sometimes mom’s milk supply is too low or too high, sometimes there is no magic answer.  Unfortunately the cycle seems to intensify quickly since mom’s nipples can become sore and cracked, which as you would guess, makes it excruciating to nurse the hungry baby.  And all the while, everyone around them asks about the process – directly or indirectly, with the general expectation that everything is fine. 

As with almost every element of baby care, society seems to generously offer unlimited amounts of advice and judgment.  As many of my friends tried to manage their internal guilt and sadness about difficulty breastfeeding, they would be met with additional pressure from people around them.  When they broke the shameful silence and admitted that breastfeeding was not going well, many were lectured by friends, family, doctors, even doulas, about the benefits of breastmilk vs. formula.  Many women are urged to ‘not give up’ and pressured to try a range of medical or natural remedies to aid the process with the promise that ‘it will get easier’.  Now I’m not saying that it can’t – for some it does.  And I’m not saying there isn’t evidence about the benefits of breastmilk and the bonding of nursing.  But – for a new mom who is struggling to maintain her sanity and trying hard to determine whether she has the strength to continue attempts at nursing, that information starts to feel like harsh propaganda.  The stats become arrows that strike the hearts of already emotionally torn women, and make their ‘decision’ much harder.  I think the most important thing a woman can receive in this situation is the unconditional, overwhelming, non-judgmental support to do (or not do) what feels instinctively comfortable to them.  Whether that means supplementing with the odd bottle of formula to give mom a well-deserved break now and then, or switching completely to formula if breastfeeding is more painful than it is enjoyable – that decision should be up to mom. 

As someone who lucked out with breastfeeding, I soon realized I was still not immune to the criticism and opinions of others.  Even in a society where Human Rights Laws justify the natural act of breastfeeding as perfectly acceptable in public, reality will often tell a different story.  Since newborns pretty much need to nurse all the time, a large percentage of these feedings are bound to happen in public spaces.  Generally, I tried to use a nursing cover for my own comfort and preference, but sometimes this made baby too hot and often made it harder for me to see what I was doing and get them settled.  Again, just about the worst thing in that situation is being told (either overtly or just with some subtle glares or facial expressions) that what you are doing is ‘not appropriate’.  Another area I received unsolicited advice on, was about my ‘decision’ to continue anti-depressant medication while breastfeeding.  The old-school mentality was essentially to not consume anything that ‘could’ potentially harm your baby during pregnancy or breastfeeding.  This works lovely for the people around mom, who can offer their advice without dealing with the consequences.  But again, for those of us who may already be struggling with our own mixed emotions, it can be completely aggravating or hurtful, depending on the day.  I’ve had a pharmacist angrily ask me ‘do you know this is unsafe for your baby?’, while reluctantly filling a prescription that was obviously from a doctor who felt it was okay.  I think I confidently responded by telling him I was aware of the very minimal risks, and felt the tremendous benefits of being able to emotionally care for my baby were more important.  In retrospect, I kind of wish my response involved some swearing, or at least sarcasm like: ‘Oh my gosh, really? How silly of me to consider my own health important.  Let me just throw out these unnecessary pills and try to ignore the symptoms of post-partum depression!”.  A really amazing website for any expecting or new mom around informing our decisions on what substances truly do have significant levels of risk and others that may not is: motherisk.org. 

Finally, on a positive note about breastfeeding, I would just like to share that I apparently have super-lactating powers that may never disappear.  Kassiah refused to stop nursing until she was two, and a few months later she gave me a sad puppy dog look and requested a ‘drink’.  I laughed and obliged, assuming that my milk supply would be long gone and she would realize it was a waste of time.  But sure enough – after a couple minutes of trying – she was successful.  I thought it was a one-time mystery, but every few months, she has made an attempt and my milk magically re-appears for those few minutes and then seems to vanish without a trace.  I’m hoping this is a sign that breastfeeding will go just as easily with baby #3…but I guess I’ll also have to keep Kassiah at arm’s length so she doesn’t try any funny business. 

Take 3!!!

So…remember a few entries ago, when I doubted Ivan’s ability to convince me on baby #3?  Well apparently that was the one blog he read and he must have taken it as a serious challenge to his manhood.  His original strategy of predicting aloud that I would want another one when Kassiah’s baby-ness wore off, was pretty unsuccessful – since “I love being wrong…and being corrected by my husband” was said by no woman, ever.  So he shifted to reverse psychology, saying ‘yeah maybe you’re right…two is enough’.  Suddenly, when I didn’t feel the weight of having to guard my uterus, combined with a noticeable increase in Ivan’s laundry productivity…I changed my mind.  Or I guess I should say ‘I changed my mind back’ – since Ivan and I had always wanted three kids.  My self-doubt starting surfacing after Mariah, and then grew bigger after Kassiah.  In retrospect, I realize a large part of feeling overwhelmed was probably because we had them too close together for comfort.  There really is no ‘perfect age gap’ between siblings, but I would say 2-3 years is likely a lot more manageable than the 18 months opted for.  And sure enough, as Ivan initially predicted, Kassiah’s new found independence has left me feeling sane enough to think again…and finding my thoughts drifting toward missing the baby stage. 

Are you asking yourself ‘does she realize she is about to be overwhelmed all over again?’.  Well – yes – I realize that’s part of the package deal.  In fact, I’m thinking one good blog topic during this pregnancy will be a ‘note to self’ to read on the inevitable bad post-partum days when I ask myself ‘what was I thinking?!?’.  Having a third child will result in a string of new challenges that I used to argue against Ivan with: more costs, being outnumbered by children, more noise, more insanity, etc.  But, I’ve started to realize that a significant amount of my logic against having a third, had to do with the temporary challenges.  I really miss having extra cashflow to afford sunny vacations, and only noticed that I actually like ‘alone time’, after motherhood stripped that privilege away like a bikini wax.  But I’m pretty sure those things will happen again…they might just take a couple more years.

In my first few years of motherhood, I’ve learned that it’s really easy to have tunnel vision in the phase of life you’re going through.  The task de jour, whether pregnancy nausea, newborn night wake-ups, or toddler tantrums, are so consuming, they often feel like they will last forever.  And then – the second it’s over, you magically forget about it and move on to your next challenge.  Moms, especially, don’t take enough time to pat ourselves on the back for the amazing things we’ve accomplished, and to assure ourselves that whatever the future holds – we can handle it.  When friends with older kids talk about small successes, like their child buckling their own seatbelt, or taking a shower on their own, or getting themselves dressed, it seems like a lifetime away.  But those things will happen…and when they do, I’m sure I’ll be watching baby videos and sobbing : )

Sure enough, this first trimester of pregnancy has reminded me that pregnancy is much harder than I remembered!  The first few weeks were a breeze, but nausea and scent-sensitivity started to arrive around 7-8 weeks.  I would say I was just as nauseous with Mariah and Kassiah, and used to ‘give in’ to vomiting, mainly because it brought a mild sense of relief.  This time, whenever I caught myself leaning over the sink gagging, I would push myself up, look in the mirror and angrily say ‘nope – sorry, I’m not barfing this time!’.  Many women experience such strong nausea that the only way to stop it is with medication.  But luckily my urges were mild enough that I could apparently control them with a stern talking to.  The nausea combined itself with fatigue, which made things feel worse around 9-10 weeks.  A friend once described pregnancy fatigue as feeling sedated, which is pretty accurate.  I honestly had to call in sick by 11am a couple times to go home and sleep, cause my eyelids refused to stay open!  Finally, the symptoms started to ease a bit in weeks 11-12 and here I am more excited than ever to enter the second trimester, which most women usually describe as the best part of pregnancy.  Your energy comes back, you start to look like a cute preggo and not just a chubby chic, and best part of all – you start to feel less like someone with the flu, and more like there’s a baby inside you. 

Incase you were starting to feel like I was – that this blog was simmering down and losing its excitement at all…brace yourself, cause I have a feeling it’s about to get juicy again!

Winter Blues

Well, time has flown by again…and I can’t say all of it has been because I was ‘having fun’.  At least part of my writer’s block was probably due to some winter blues.  Even though Calgary has had an amazing winter so far, the decrease in hours of sunlight and chances to be outdoors definitely seems to affect my mood.  I’ve probably noticed it more so in the last couple of years since my mood has been more vulnerable as a mom.  I’ve had my ups & downs with the dreaded ‘Post-Partum Depression/Anxiety’ monster in the last few years.  And since Kassiah is now 2 and a half, it’s almost strange not to be able to chalk it up to that : )  Overall, I would probably say that I feel a whole lot more ‘stable’ these days than I did early on (likely because I never went off the anti-depressants I started post-partum!).  But I guess I’m coming to the realization that my mood may continue to be more fragile than it was pre-kids for…at least the next few years! 

Like a lot of people, I have a fair amount of genetic predisposition to depression and anxiety.  Before kids, I usually managed to cope pretty well to keep them at bay.  But I suppose with kids, the increase in factors beyond my control continues to be an adjustment that I don’t always cope as well with.  In the past, if I were having a tough day, I could just laze around, take it easy, or even just have a cathartic cry without worrying about anyone but myself.  But now, the tougher days are more easily triggered, and I get caught in the cycle of feeling guilty about feeling miserable.  If I feel ‘a moment’ coming on, Ivan is pretty good at getting the kids out of my hair.  But occasionally they’ve crept up into my bedroom to catch a glimpse of me looking and feeling a lot less put-together than they are used to.  That moment always kills me – since it’s the one I’m terrified they’ll remember.  So I just do the only thing I can – assure them and myself that I’ll be fine in a few minutes…and sure enough I am. 

Mornings have been especially tough lately.  Winter mornings are dark…and cold…and who wants to get out of bed, really?  But combine that with getting a 4 year-old ready for daycare, when she is even less motivated (and perhaps has less of a cognitive filter), usually does not make for a fun start to the day.  Mariah is a lovely and stubborn little monkey, who tries to negotiate each step in life lately.  Things that were meant to be occasional treats – like a cup of hot chocolate, or wearing a dress over her clothes – were beginning to be daily battles.  Just like any normal preschooler should, she demanded any and everything she could think of each morning to delay the process of going to school.  And like any normal mom – I would give a firm ‘no’ to most of them, but then eventually give in to one or two.  As I should really know from my work with kids, this ‘intermittent reward system’ turned into a behavioral nightmare, where my child was bossing me around far too much.  She was getting crankier, I was getting more irritable, and we were both getting nowhere.  I say this all in past tense as if the problem is solved – well maybe that’s wishful thinking.  Last week Ivan & I made a daily calendar (i.e. ‘behavior chart’) for Mariah – which again, I would not recommend for true ‘behavior issues’ in kids…but Mariah is a pretty rule-oriented gal.  We gave her a few pictures of reasonable motivators to get her going in the mornings and have let her choose one each day to help things run a bit smoother.  At first she threw a tantrum over wanting two special things in one day (because how could a princess be a princess with a dress but no sparkle gel in her hair?!?).  But overall, the method seems to be improving things a bit each day. 

And as for my mood, fingers crossed, it seems to be getting better as the days get longer.  But, like I’ve said in this entry, I’ve sort of come to an acceptance that the roller-coaster is somewhat normal.  I debated about whether to post on this topic…especially since I haven’t blogged in a while and I hate  to be a downer ; )  But being open and honest – about mommyhood, and life in general, is really what this blog is about.  There will continue to be lots of happiness in the entries to come, but this one is probably just as important, if not more.  I’ve had lots of good conversations with other women about the wonderful array of emotions we seem to cycle through, and I hope that being open about this helps to normalize & validate it for others. 

And incase anyone is wondering if this means I have any regrets about parent hood and wish I could go back – no way!  I think the purpose of life is to grow – to face challenges and overcome them; to have tough days and get through them.  For me, becoming a mom has been the hardest and most fun experience I could ever imagine.  So the tough moments have been well worth the priceless ones, by far.

Happy Halloween!

As usual, I boycotted store bought costumes and put together the perfect duo: Dora and ‘Boots’ (the monkey).  I suppose one day Kassiah will boycott right back and refuse to be a sidekick…but until that day arrives, I thoroughly enjoy choosing their costumes.  In fact, she should be thanking me, since Ivan’s vote was to make them wear matching outfits with Kassiah’s belly protruding over her ‘before’ sign and Mariah rocking her gymnast physique with her ‘after’ sign!

It’s been a record long time since I blogged in July, so I’ll start with a brief catch-up:

In August, we went home to Ontario and had a pretty amazing week in nature.  After visits with friends and family, us Calebs hit the road and enjoyed doing a whole lotta nothing.  Since we haven’t really gone on any family vacations, aside from returning 'home’ each year, we decided to treat ourselves to the type of vacation Ivan & I love most – and apparently the type that Mariah and Kassiah now love as well.  We rented a cozy little Goldilocks-ish cottage with a wood-burning stove downstairs and a winding staircase up to the bedrooms.  And most importantly, it was just steps away from the beautiful dark blue Muskoka water that we have loved and missed.  I woke up early some mornings, to sneak onto the balcony with a good book in one hand and a hot coffee in the other (which have both become my ultimate mommy rewards).  The days were spent canoeing, swimming, catching pet frogs, and of course, alternating naps & snacks in between.  Each night ended with a campfire under the stars, before we all cozied up in one big bedroom together and telling stories.  One night, we even went to a ‘Drive-In’ theatre nearby, where Mariah not only fell in love with Ninja Turtles, but also managed to stay awake for the late night show – and has fallen even more deeply in love with Planet of the Apes! 

When our trip was over, our big girl’s trip had just begun.  Mariah hit the road again – this time with her grandma, Papa & aunt, for a whole week in Ottawa.  My mom and I had prepped Mariah about this adventure for several months, so sure enough she took off without hesitation and barely even wanted to chat with mom & dad on the phone when we called from in Calgary.  She was probably too busy being spoilt and having fun – wearing a pink boa around her neck just for a casual dinner out, going shopping with the girls, and having lots of fun with her ‘step-cousins’ : )

September was a pretty smooth transition ‘back to school’ for all of us.  After 6 years of teaching at a school that’s considered a ‘long commute’ for us Calgarians (~45 minutes), Ivan got a Kindergarten position at a school just 5 minutes away!   The girls were a bit extra fussy for a few weeks as they got back in the swing of things, but now seem to be happy with the routine again.  Their playtime together continues to grow in length and cuteness.  Last night they crawled under our bed together and sang nonsense songs that that they made up as they went along.  Sometimes when I naturally respond to Kassiah’s call for ‘mommy’, she sharply advises me that she was talking to ‘that mommy’ and points to Mariah who has a proud smile from ear to ear.  When Mariah is in a particularly good mood, she tells me that she and Kassiah are ‘Chudders’ (which Mariah thinks means bff’s since there’s a Frozen song with a line about Anna telling Elsa ‘we used to have each other’).  In reality, I’d like to think Mariah continues to be my bff, since we seem to be attached at the hip while we argue non-stop.  But whenever she wants to do something crafty, she knows who to ask: “Daddy’s a good maker, right mom?”.  She goes around telling people that daddy is painting her ‘orange house’ (since it’s super outdated with tons of oak) white…and then reassures herself “but it’s okay, we don’t have to be sad”. 

Kassiah tries hard to keep up with her big sister, but it is usually apparent to the rest of us that she has a long way to go.  When Mariah practices her letter sounds, like “mu- mu- monkey”, Kassiah makes several brutal attempts too like “mu- mu- table” or “ru- ru- Kassiah”, which Mariah gets pretty tickled about.  Maybe I shouldn’t compare my children (but I do) and I always tease Kassiah for being a little slow compared to little Ms. Mariah.  Kassiah calls any type of bug a ‘mosquito bite’, and once when I asked her what she had on her pizza, she paused thoughtfully and then responded confidently “ummm… a plate”.  Let’s just blame it on sleep deprivation since Kassiah resists waking up each morning, exclaiming things like “Turn off the light, I sthleepin!”.  She also went through a “leave me alone” stage during the day, but that seems to be transitioning into a more polite “No, I do it aself” stage.  I’m pretty sure she’ll catch up to Mariah soon though, cause Kassiah has become our little bookworm.  Whether in the car, on the couch, or in bed, Kassiah can often be found curled up ‘reading’ herself a story.  If it’s a really good read (like when she picked up my last Khaled Hosseini novel) she might add some random commentary like ‘Oh my God’…other times, her chubby little fingers just continue to flip the pages until she falls asleep!  And if you’re starting to feel bad that we’re giving her a complex about being slow and chubby…please know that she brings it upon herself – her current favorite song is “All About the Bass”!

Summer Vacay

Well folks, the Calebs are officially back in our annual summer vacay mode – spending most days in & out of the backyard, losing track of the date…and loving every minute.  I’m working part-time this summer (which I could really get used to!), and Kassiah is home daddy, while Mariah continues to attend daycare most of the time, since she tends to have trouble getting back into a routine once it’s broken. 

Ivan’s dad ‘Papa G’ was around for the first 3 weeks of July, and for anyone wondering ‘isn’t 3 weeks too long a visit from an in-law?’…shockingly, the answer is no ; )  Ivan loved having someone to keep busy doing projects around the house with, and it was really neat for me to remember where he gets his wild creativity from.  When Ivan gave him a few hours break from slave labour, Papa G picked up some of Mariah’s paints and whipped together a masterpiece painting of the four of us enjoying a serene landscape.  Then he looked at it sideways, decided it wasn’t right and spent the next day making an even more impressive one, that Ivan framed and hung above our fireplace.  I also saw where Ivan gets his incredible inability to estimate time, since he and his dad would often announce they were just heading out for a quick errand and I would see them re-surface a few hours later with pencils behind their ears, and sawdust in their hair, muttering some design plans under their breaths (and mysteriously understanding each other’s language).  Apparently, we ruined Papa G’s diet with some Dim Sum, Sushi and other favourite restaurants, but he didn’t seem to put up much of a fight.  We all took an amazing road trip to Montana, where Ivan’s dad taught him some golf, we all splashed around in the pool, and Ivan & I even got to go on a fancy dinner date.  We squeezed in some power shopping, where I literally pulled well priced clothes off racks and threw them in my cart like I was on a gameshow; and answered Ivan’s questions about which size to choose for the girls with “All of them!  They’ll match for the next few years”.

We just got back from our second road trip of the summer – to Kamloops, BC, to visit Ivan’s pal from high school, Taylor, and Taylor's equally awesome lady, Jess.  They showed us around town – great beaches with mountains in the backdrop, an amazing restaurant, possibly the best home brewed coffee I’ve ever had.  And in return, we gave them a live tutorial on what 2 and 3 year olds behave like on their best and worst moments!  Kassiah (or “Diggs” as we like to call her lately), bonded pretty quickly with Jess, who became her hairdresser and cuddle buddy.  In fact, Taylor & Jess both forgot Kassiah’s real name as quickly as Papa G had a week before, and affectionately started calling her “Diggs” too.  She lived up to the name and would generously hand her new friends the boogers she would carefully pick for them, and hand over with just enough determination to make it physically impossible and far too awkward to decline.  Diggs happened to be extra cranky with a cough, cold, and teething, this past weekend, so she was kind enough to beat Jess’s 4am alarm clock for work and replace it with a far more calming sound.  I’m pretty sure the two of them are talking right now about how boring and predictable couple life is, and how they can’t wait to throw kids in the mix!  We had good intentions of camping on the way back and we (i.e. Ivan) had worked really hard at packing the car with all the necessities...but we decided it would be even less fun to have Diggs wake up at 4am in a tent...so we postponed for now.

Our next and final trip of the summer will be home to Ontario in a couple of weeks.  And before I end off, I’ll share some usual tidbits, this time from Kassiah who recently turned 2:

 “No!  I kalkin to daddy!” when I answer a question that I mistakenly assumed was open to the general public

“Hide!  Monsta comeen…he catch you” – as she darts under the blankets spontaneously

“Kinkle, kinkle little tar, how I wonder what you are…up ababa world so high”

“One, two, three, four, seben”

“laba laba lub you!”

“Lee me!  I canky”

And my all time favourite (care of Papa G and a ziploc bag) “No you zip it!”