I love my Mac!

>> February 21, 2009

I am still sick, so is Asher, but I have made it to the Dr. and I'm off to get some drugs today.  I really am so done with being sick.  I know I have had days when I'm not, but they seem like pinpricks in time on the days that I am sick.  It's been one thing after another since the beginning of December and I'm done.  I quite.  No more.  The office is closed.  We are not accepting any more applications.  At least that's what one person I know says is the key to being healthy...not accepting that you are sick.  I wish.  I'll take the drugs please and hopefully I can keep myself rested and well-hydrated and start to build my immune system back up.  


Okay, on to the real reason for the post.  Well, besides the fact that it's been three days and I really must get more consistent in my blogging.  I love my Mac!  I have had a Mac for...golly, over 6 years now, and I automatically enjoyed it more than the PC.  Can we say no more Control+Alt+Del?  But recently, we upgraded our Mac to a brand new macbook.  We knew we wouldn't have room for a desktop in our new house so we sold my eMac and Jeff's PC and got the macbook.  We call it ours, but mostly I use it as Jeff has his own laptop for work.  I haven't had a lot of time to explore the new operating system that came with my fun little computer, so I haven't had a chance to really play with all the new toys.  Well, this morning, I wanted to play with some photos to see if I could get them to truly reflect the amount of fluids leaking out of my poor little man's face.  (our camera is dying a slow and painful death and has not been taking the best pictures as of late)

So I got to play with the new iPhoto program.  It's great!  I love what I can do with my pictures.  Now I know I am the last person on earth to discover this and if you don't have a Mac, you likely have photoshop which as I understand is a similar program, but let me be excited for a moment.  It was so much fun turning my photos from flat images that don't nearly do justice to capturing all the cuteness that is my son into pictures with detail and contrast.  I think they sometimes come out a little gritty/edgy but that's mostly because that's the kind of photos I like the best and I just couldn't help it. So I may have to start doing some photo blogs.  Right now, I'm trying to figure out how to go back and fix up the 734 pictures we've taken since getting the computer at Christmas.  And then there's all the pictures on our portable hard drive.  Oh golly.  Am I in trouble.

Okay, so here's the first entries:  Me trying to capture how leaky Asher's face is.  Still couldn't quite get it, but I like the pictures anyway.  He's feeling better today though, thankfully.

 





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Single lines

>> February 18, 2009

If I truly believe in the sovereignty of God and that His timing is perfect and that He has my days already recorded and mapped out and knows the beginning from the end and knew that Asher would be and would be ours and when and also knows the fate of of any and all future children, then why, oh why, does that single line feel so devastating. It's not like we've been specifically trying, charting, timing, waiting. But I'm late. Late even for me. And it's not like I have any reason to believe that this time round will be any different than the last. Except that I've been back on the Mommy Boards over at Soulcysters and 4 (or is it 5 now) of the other women who were due with me last March are pregnant again. Without trying. One already delivered. Irish twins. Just like my Mom and Aunt. Do women without fertility problems feel such deep wounds over such a simple thing as a single pink line? I want to go rummaging through the waste bin to have one more look. Just to see if maybe, maybe, there's a shadow that I missed, the last time it was so faint.   Part of this is pride, I'll admit it. I feel like I've paid my dues. Done my time. Shouldn't have to go through that again (my heartfelt apologies to all my friends who went through so much more than me, I really do know how lucky I got off). This time, I wanted to feel like a normal woman. A woman who's body hadn't betrayed her. A woman who's God hadn't said 'no' again. Now I really do understand that this isn't likely an actual 'no' but a 'not right now'. And I understand that He has very good reasons for the 'when'. But none of that sinks in tonight. Tonight things feel hollow. Distant. Tonight I feel empty.

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Ugh. Sick. Again

>> February 17, 2009

I often give Jeff a hard time when he's sick because he makes sure everyone knows he's sick and he never takes anything unless I remind him.  I'm not a very good wife, not a lot of compassion when he's sick, injured yes, sick no.  I may have to be a bit nicer next time round.  I'm sick.  Again.  I feel like I've been sick for months.  Oh wait.  I have.   Granted lately I've had a few days of not being sick, but since Dec. 8th, I've definitely been sick more than I've been well.  But I thought I was finally over with it!  No such luck.  I'm pretty sure it's a sinus infection this time round and I'm miserable.  We have no drugs in the house to take and I'm a whiny, miserable, sick person.  Thank goodness Jeff hasn't gotten sick much at all these last couple months.  Last night he actually got up with Asher three times!  The best part, Asher only got up 3 times.  Well, best in that I didn't have to get up with him, not so great in that my little man had been doing much better and only waking once if at all during the night.  I hope he's not getting sick, too.  So today I really do have to go into town and register with the medical clinic.  I know, I know, I still haven't and I'm still dumb.  But today, really I will.  Hopefully I'll be able to see someone today, too and not have to go back in tomorrow.  Hopefully my legs won't fall off when I get back on the bike again.  Hopefully other sore parts of my body won't fall off either.


Wish me luck.

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The Family that Cycles together...takes a lot of pain killers.

>> February 15, 2009

Saturday saw yet another first. Our first family bike ride. Our arrival in Oxford has left us without a car for the first time in our marriage, and for me for the first time in 9 years. The buses are plentiful and go everywhere here, but they're not cheap and there's still the walk from our house to the main bus route. Not as convenient as we had hoped. So we decided to get bikes. Jeff has had his for a couple weeks and has been using it to get back and forth to work. I love it, it means he can stay a little later in the morning and still get to work on time and he can stay at work a little later and still get home at a decent time. Because of a mixup as to what child seats fit on what bikes, I only got mine this last week. I went out a couple times to test my bike legs as it were and by Saturday I felt comfortable enough to go out with Asher so we decided to take a ride as a family.
Asher did great. Of course he had no reason to think this was a big deal, it's just another seat that he gets strapped into to go places. A little colder though, have I mentioned I can't wait 'til spring. Right around the corner they tell me. We ended up going farther than planned and by the time we got home, I wasn't sure I would be able to stand. Ugh. 

So what did we decide to do today? Bike to church. Oh. my. gosh. It's not like Oxford is super hilly, it's more bumpy as Jeff says, but enough that my thighs and knees are quite upset with me. Jeff looked on google maps and figured we biked about 12 miles in the last two days. I've never been one to ease into things. Asher once again was a trooper.  His face however is showing a bit of wind burn so I'll have to get him a bit of protection for his face and slather on the Aquafor in the meantime.

I'm totally kicking myself though for not taking our camera today.  First of all, the creche (nursery) in the church we went to had a little blue rocking horse which he had fun on.  And actually, this was his first time in a room full of children his age.  I left him and went to sit with Jeff in the service.  That was hard for me, but good for Asher I'm sure.  He did great though, playing nicely with everyone, not freaking out when he didn't see me, and didn't cry when I came back, just showed me how nicely he could feed the baby next to him a wooden train track.  'Bless'

After church we went to a pub for a Valentine lunch.  It was a really nice place with a real highchair, not the wooden things you get in most restaurants.  Jeff had a steak and I had a lamb pot roast with yorkshire pudding and mint sauce.  Mmmmmm...so yummy (or scrummy as it is here).  Asher did so well considering he had no morning nap.  He was enjoying eating all kinds of new food off of Mummy's plate, and then suddenly, in the middle of opening his mouth for a bit of potato, he just kind of...fell asleep.  It was hilarious, I'd always wondered how kids fall asleep in their spaghetti, and now I know.  If you keep your child awake through their entire nap time and are approaching their next nap time, any place where they are sitting becomes good enough to fall asleep in.  Again, kicking myself for not having the camera.  

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First steps!

That's right, you heard it here first, Asher has taken his first solo steps.  There are no pictures as yet because he first toddled out on his own while we were getting ready for bed on Friday night.  We had been trying to convince him he could walk on his own because he will stand on his own and will walk beside you holding on to just your pant leg or finger but he would just get to excited and lean forward so when you let go of him, he just fell into waiting arms.  Which he loved, it was a great game.  So Friday night caught him quite by surprised and he wasn't sure why all of a sudden Daddy was cheering and clapping and Mommy was squealing and crying (ya, that's right, I had a tear or two, wanna make something of it?).  He's done it a couple times since, but then he gets so giddy he just goes back to running/falling forward.  Once he figures out what he's doing, I am so toast, he'll be running within a week.  I really hope the weather straightens up soon so I can send him out to the back garden (yard) and let him run around there.


Steps weren't the only firsts around here.  He also slept through the night for the first time Friday night.  WOOHOO!!  Now I know there are many of you out there who were getting good night's sleeps out of your kids much sooner than 10 months, but sleep has always been a struggle for Asher (and yes we tried giving him cereal just before bed).  Since we arrived in the UK however, sleep has slowly but surely been coming in line.  He started by napping well and long twice a day and now he's getting a good night's sleep as well.  Thank God.  The day is so much easier when both of us are well-rested.



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And what are you thinking now?

>> February 11, 2009

These are the words that saved my life. Literally. I'm sure you are scratching your head, your mouse perhaps hovering over the 'Next Blog' button, but it's true. Now if I were a certain unnamed scientist that I know, I would leave it at that and smile at you expectantly, assuming you knew just what I meant. But his mind works a little differently than most of us. It has to in order to make sense of the very small wonders of this universe. Let me elaborate.

Almost 8 years ago, 2 years before I met my scientist, I had just come back from Africa and found myself working in secured treatment center for teenage boys. These kids were in a lot of trouble, out of control, their last stop before juvenile hall. It is a very tough job, burnout rate is usually around 5 - 7 months for frontline workers. I lasted a year. Every week the house had group therapy, kids and staff. That was a rough hour, there's nothing like having very disturbed teenage boys emotionally vomit all around you. After, there was quiet time in their rooms and we had our staff meetings. I had a really hard time with group. In part because I'm a very sensitive person and pick up on people's emotional states quite quickly without them actually spewing it in my direction so group was major overload, and in part because I was not that stable myself, just highly functioning. (Not to mention a ton of stuff stemming from my time in Africa that I had not been able to fully process) Our house therapist suggested I seek some professional help, in the form of psychoanalysis. It just so happened that he knew and was able to write me a referral to the best Dr. in the city. I was so there, willing to try anything but especially interested in the idea of therapy that wasn't goal based or pushing drugs. 

I found a great definition of psychoanalysis:
"Psychoanalytic treatment demonstrates how unconscious factors affect current relationships and patterns of behavior, traces them back to their historical origins, shows how they have changed and developed over time, and helps the individual to deal better with the realities of adult life."
Let me give you an idea of how this works.  They were 1/2 hour sessions (I was 3 times a week at first, ya, a little messed up) and I just talked.  There was a couch, but I took the comfy chair by the window.  That was it, I just talked.  For the first, oh, I would say year and a half at least (by that time I was down to 2 sessions a week), all my Dr. said was, "And what are you thinking now."  That's it.  I'm not even joking.  So instead of someone telling me what was wrong with me and how they wanted me to try and act instead, I was given free reign to explore my own thoughts and feelings and discover on my own what thoughts and feelings and events from my past that they led to and make connections myself about why I was reacting to things in certain ways.  Knowing why something affects you is very powerful and takes away a lot of the intensity of emotion, makes it manageable.

After a while, he did begin to say more than just that sentence.  I kept waiting to feel judged, (especially since I can't talk about my life and what I'm going through without talking about God and I wasn't sure how that would be received) I kept waiting for him to tell me what was wrong with me or what I should or shouldn't be doing.  It never came.  I know God put him in my life to work out stuff that needed to be taken care of, and I'm convinced he saved my life.

When Jeff and I started going out, I had been seeing my Dr. for two years.  He had a really hard time understanding why I was seeing a shrink, I wasn't crazy (at least not in a bad way).  But he didn't understand (at the time) that I wouldn't have been able to be part of a healthy relationship 6 months before, I might not have even been alive.  I had gone through a period of suicidal thoughts during my last few months of working at the boy's home.   It was not my first time, but this time was different.  I recognized what was happening and was able to call out for help.  I remember calling my mom one night after I got home from work.  In tears because I had been unable to think of anything on the entire drive but killing myself.  It didn't even feel like me, it was like having an out-of-body experience.  She stayed on the phone with me and prayed with me for what felt like hours.  I don't think it was.  I fell asleep there on the couch that night, not wanting to move in case the thoughts came back.  The last time that had happened though, no one knew until years later.  I had gotten as far as taking the knife out of the drawer and testing it's sharpness.  This time, I was able to recognize that what was going on and understood that I didn't have to succumb to how I was feeling or the directions my thoughts were taking.

I was not intending this blog to take the turn it has.  My original thought was simply that there are times when I miss that comfy chair by the window.  The ability to vent stream of consciousness without worrying about hurting someone's feelings or having them think less of you.  I think everyone should go through psychoanalysis. I was with my Dr. for 4 years, right up until we left Alberta for Chicago.  By then I was seeing him every other week and it was no big deal if I missed one.  It's funny, but as I think of how this became different from what I intended, so did many of my sessions with him.  I would mull over what I was going to say on my drive to his office and often sit down and talk about something completely different.

I was very sad to hear of his passing about a year and a half ago now.  He was diagnosed with a very aggressive cancer and given 6 months to live.  Instead of going through treatment and spending that time sick and hospitalized, he told almost no one and took the time to spend with his family and do some of the things he'd always meant to do.  I was especially heartbroken because I was 6 months pregnant and looking forward to sending him a birth announcement.  I know he would have been pleased to know we were doing well.

I'm going to take a page from one of the bloggers I follow and ask you:  What would you do with your half hour in the comfy chair by the window.  
Feel free to write about it in your blog instead of the comments and let your readers know where the idea started.

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Soon to be mobile

>> February 9, 2009

I've been itching to post for the past couple days but I've been a bad girl and staying up late to read the third book in a new series that I've gotten into so I've been exhausted during the day.  As soon as Asher goes down for his naps, I either pick up my book again or crash for a quick nap.  Today I was so pooped it took him a while of talking away in his crib to actually wake me up.  You know how it is when you suddenly realize not only are you hearing something, but you've been hearing it for a while.  I still didn't get up, just let him play there until it sounded like he was getting impatient.  I would love nothing more, now that he's down for his second nap to go to sleep myself.  And technically, I could.  I've done laundry today, washed dishes, tidied up the kitchen, but I know if I do, I'll be wide awake tonight and I want to actually go to sleep at a decent time.  


Because...things are very exciting right now. Asher slept really well last night.  He went down at 8, woke up at 3:45, hubby put him back down in a matter of minutes, then he slept straight through until 6am.  No nursing at all during the night, one minor outburst when being put back down to sleep and he wasn't trying to claw through my shirt to nurse this morning.  He very calmly took his soother (pacifier/dummy depending on which country you're in) and played with his Curious George and other toys until it was time for Breakfast at 7.  Wow!  Now I  understand that this may not be a big deal for some of you out there, but for us, it's huge.  

We have struggled with sleep with Asher especially at night from the very beginning.  We are very much an AP, non-CIO family.  We co-slept in the beginning, but Asher was such a loud and active sleeper that I never got any sleep even though he hardly even woke up to nurse.  Finally we ended up moving him to his crib which everyone told us would reduce the number of feedings.  Not so much.  On the one hand I had to get up and walk down the hall to nurse him now, on the other I actually got to sleep between feedings.  We started using the No-Cry Sleep Solution in September and quite quickly had him down to one feeding a night and only waking up maybe one other time.  We were on track.  Then he started teething and cut 4 teeth in a week and a half.  Once that was over and before we could get back on track with his sleeping, we left for our whirl-wind tour of Canada and lost all semblance of a schedule.  You have no idea how happy I am that things are getting back to sanity!  I'm realizing, I didn't actually have to get out of bed once last night!  Heaven! (watch, now I've jinxed it)

Anyway, the other thing that is exciting, as per the title of this post is that my bike is getting delivered tonight.  Or tomorrow if the weather is truly awful.  It's been fitted with a super-duper child seat and is ready to take me and Asher out and about to explore all the wonders of Oxford.  Yay!  Did I mention I haven't ridden a bike in what is frighteningly close to 20 years.  Holy Crap that makes me sound old.  I'm not, I just haven't had a bike since my very early teens.  Is it true what they say about riding a bike?  Oh golly I hope so.  I will be taking a few test rides to make sure before I strap Asher in there with me.  Hilarity and pictures I'm sure will follow.  In the meantime, here's one of the little man in his brand new helmet.  Too. cute.  Or as they say here, "Oh, Bless!"





Okay, I just noticed how loose the strap was on his helmet, don't worry, that will be fitted properly before we get on the bike.  :)

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About This Blog

I love this adventure I'm on with my Rocket Scientist. The most recent addition to our expedition has me in awe daily. I can't wait to see My Little Man as a big brother. We started off by moving from Western Canada to Chicago and now we're in the UK. Will this Strange Mamma ever not feel like a stranger in the land?

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