I guess sometimes having things get harder is what kicks someone out of their rut. That’s what happened to me this weekend. Everything can get worse, but in some situations that is just what the doctor ordered.

This weekend our daughter came down with the swine flu (or H1N1 if you’re concerned about offending the pigs). I’m not joking or being fascecious, it was full on intense fluness of the pig variety. I won’t go into all the gory details, but I will say that it was very good that she didn’t need to be hospitalized. As I lay on the couch this weekend with her sweaty little head in the crook of my arm, not daring to move even as the unborn child in my womb pummeled my bladder, I realized that if I can deal with this, then the other stuff isn’t such a big deal.

My work schedule is extremely flexible, and really is a set of simple tasks with a little creativity splashed in around the edges. I can do pretty much everything that I need to in 15 minute chunks with lots of snack breaks. This fact was made glaringly obvious because it’s not at all what works when caring for a sick kid. That’s a stressful situation that no amount of setting the timer will remedy.

So anyhow, I seem to have quelled the “I can’t” bug for now, and swine flu girl is feeling much better too. Her fever has subsided, and so has the screaming (I understand why young kids scream while they are sick, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it). She still has a cough and a case of the grumps, but we’re working on it. Luckily, my grumps have mostly subsided, and I’m no longer contemplating early retirement from the career world.

Am I some sort of weirdo that things getting worse changed my attitude? Does this ever happen to you?

Is having it all worth it?  I sometimes laugh at my teenaged self who was determined to be an accomplished career woman and mother…at the same time.  I didn’t really have a clue what I would do, but gosh darn it, I was going to be successful. Sure, part of making that equation a reality is choosing how one defines success, and some days for me that means remembering to flush after cleaning out the potty (I aim high…I know).

Yet, the last few weeks have been, well, harrowing. I know that now is not the time to define whether I’m succeeding in my work life balance, being as how we moved into a construction zone semi-remodeled home two weeks ago today, I just entered my third trimester, and last week we had to travel a long distance to a funeral. I totally get that it’s not supposed to be tidy and pretty right now, and that falling behind in one, two or (in my case) many areas is pretty understandable.

But, I can’t help but notice that little niggling voice inside of me saying “You could handle situations like these better if you didn’t have so much on your plate.” and “It’s not like you’re bringing in the big bucks…why are you working so hard?” and “You probably won’t get anywhere with your work at home endeavors, so why not give up?”. I don’t really have the energy to fight that voice off completely, so I’m just working on finishing one task at a time and trying not to look too far down on my list of things to do. I’m pretty sure that the overwhelm of the list in its entirety could be the catalyst for a nervous breakdown, and nobody wants that.

I’m sure all mothers (especially working mothers) have moments where it feels like they are working on saving the world, and their only tools are a spatula and a spork. That’s where I am right now. It’s a tough spot, and I wish I could just snap out of it. Instead I’m using my spork to dig steadily, and come up for air, large quantities of food, and water, when I need to.

Do you have experience with wanting to give up on your ambitions when it seems too hard?

Last week we changed residences.

The process of moving is not nearly as neat and tidy as that sentence though. In fact, things are still quite messy and thrown together, since we moved on Wednesday. Baby gates are propped up against the still unfinished stairwell…still waiting to be installed. The kitchen sink still isn’t draining properly and has grit and grime caked on it from washing out cabinets and mopping up construction dust. The laundry is piled nearly to the ceiling in my bedroom. And the Garage is filled high with boxes waiting to be unpacked.

Believe it or not though, there have been some improvements. At least we’re no longer straddling two homes in the limbo that we’ve been living in for weeks now. I went to the old house for the last time on Thursday and scrubbed it like it was going out of style. I put on my favorite Dixie Chicks mix and went to town (especially on the stove and counter tops). My husband vaccuumed, and we gathered up all of the odds and ends that would fit in our car. I fully intended to go back Friday evening and finish cleaning…shampoo some stains on the carpet, clean the blinds, mop the kitchen floor, and sweep out the basement and garage.

BUT, by Friday afternoon, my feet were so sore that I couldn’t stand on them anymore. I had been working tirelessly on the new house, and even though I had a friend to help me that evening all I could do was sit and visit with her while she lined my new cabinets with contact paper. So Saturday would have to be the day. The cleaning WOULD get done. I was having horrible visions of my landlord doing the final walk through of the old house and condemning me as a loathsome lazy pig.

Yes. Saturday I would do it. Saturday I would get that place finished up. Except that by the time I went to bed Friday night I had a headache to go along with my aching feet.

Saturday morning I awoke and I didn’t feel rested at all. I needed an entire season to hibernate, but there was work to be done. My mental cogs were beginning to turn and I was just about to heave myself out of bed when my husband woke up. He said he thought I had been pushing myself too hard. He said he thought I should stay home today, and have someone watch our daughter while he finished up at the old house. He wouldn’t be able to get all the deep cleaning done, but it would just have to be good enough. My usual pattern is to argue when he suggests things like this. Because OBVIOUSLY it IS the end of the world if the house that we move out of is not spotless. However, on this particular day what he said rang true. I was going to be headed for big trouble.

So, I did it. I just let it be good enough. I’m working on not worrying about our security deposit, or considering the opinion of our landlord. I did the best I could under the circumstances, and really isn’t that’s what we’re always telling our kids to do? “Just do your best honey” I hear the sitcom Mom in my head say.

When do you just have to let things be good enough? Do you ever push yourself past your limit, and what’s been the outcome?

Sleeplessness…

It should be on the top of the list when people tell you about parenthood. Everyone seems to talk about the sleeplessness that comes with a newborn, but the stuff that happens later on…nobody mentions that. Okay maybe it isn’t true that no one mentions it. Maybe it’s one of those things that we think won’t happen to us. I’ve been sympathetic to many a friend who has been up at night with projectile vomiting, or croup, or whatever, and maybe I just didn’t think my turn would come. Maybe I was like those teenagers who don’t listen about how drag racing, or drunk driving, or unprotected sex is dangerous, because OBVIOUSLY that stuff can’t happen to ME.

Sorry if this is TMI, but our daughter has developed a food related rash, and despite following doctor’s orders, it hasn’t gotten better in the last three days (or nights). For some reason, this rash itches starting at 4 AM and keeps her (and me) up with it.

Add to that little scenario that we had a visit from grandpa this weekend, who wanted nothing more than to treat us to days and nights out on the town. We gallivanted all weekend long (and endured a few toddler tantrums due to the schedule). There is definitely a reason that they use sleep deprivation as a torture tactic…I bet it’s pretty darn effective. I’m so glad that we had the quality time, and we had an absolute blast.

On the other hand, the beginning of our week is shot. We are all tired, and we didn’t have those two days of recuperation and preparation that we usually have on the weekends. I’m wondering to myself if we should just expect to have weekends like this every once in a while, and just be grateful for the fun activities, or if (with my control freak horns showing) I should take the reigns a bit more when we have company and try and keep it to a more tot-friendly pace?

How do you decide if something is out of balance? Do you push for moderation or do you figure you even need moderation in moderation (i.e. every once in a while it doesn’t hurt to go crazy)?

I have to admit that I jumped for joy when I found out that the Iowa supreme court ruled that the law banning gay marriage was unconstitutional. In case you haven’t heard about this, here is a timeline of what took place. It isn’t only because I know the soon to be Varnums (Hi Kate and Trish, if you’re reading this) of the Varnum v. Brien case, but because I’ve come to realize that marriage really is a civil right. It isn’t that I was ever against gay marriage. I just didn’t understand what the big deal was.

I can’t imagine not being allowed to be with the love of my life if they lay dying in the hospital, or not being able to take advantage of my dependent benefits at work because the daughter that I raised with my partner is not biologically mine, and I can’t be considered a guardian because my partner is a woman. These are just a couple of the instances that I have had friends and family tell me about.

I was really pleased that the supreme court of Iowa ruled unanimously, but I was even more pleased to hear that the opinion that the court published was very well written. I’ve never actually read a court opinion before, but my husband wanted to print it off and read it. So I got to hear a lot of it, and it really is a well crafted statement showing that marriage is a civil right and that excluding someone from it based on their sexual orientation is discrimination.

It is enthralling hearing the details of the judges’ opinions weaved and crafted so skillfully into the law. I really think it’s worth at least perusing, for everyone, but here are a couple of the points that really stood out to me. The defendants argued that because marriage was traditionally between man and woman that it should continue to be so. The court ruled that that idea cannot be upheld because it would open up a precedent for all kinds of discriminatory behavior to continue just because it has always been so. The defendants also asserted that the law was put into place because it was in the best interests of children to live in a home with their mother and their father. The court ruled that if this were the purpose of this law, then the law was flawed in several respects. First of all, not all same sex couples wish to have children, so the law casts too broad a shadow. Second of all, it does not include others who are not likely not good caretakers of children (like child molesters) from marrying. Third, it begs the question of whether it truly is not in the best interest of children to have same sex parents, and the defense could not provide such evidence (whereas the prosecution showed numerous studies that suggest that growing up in a family with loving same sex parents is not a detriment, and actually has not shown a difference).  Okay, I could go on and on about the tit for tat, but there is just one other point that I wanted to share. The judges ruled that there was an underlying (and unstated) reason for not allowing same sex marriage, and that reason was religious. The court ruled that religion absolutely cannot have a bearing on whether or not to allow civil marriage.

In addition to hearing this news on Friday, my husband and I ended up watching MILK this weekend. I really enjoyed the film, but one thing that I was surprised about was that in many ways the argument against gay rights hasn’t changed, and the fight for them seems to be generally in the same place that it was thirty years ago.

On the other hand, I’m living in the midwest, and the state just to the north of us just legalized gay marriage…so maybe we’re growing here, too. I was surprised and glad when a good friend who was openly gay won the mayoral seat in the rural town where my husband and I used to live. But then again, a couple of months ago, there was a big hoopla in that same town because people were fighting over whether or not to add sexual orientation to the city’s anti-discrimination document (protecting minorities from housing discrimination). One of the councilman voted against it and on camera says he would not rent to a gay person.

One of my favorite lines in MILK was a bit of actual footage where a woman stood up and asked an audience how they would teach their children to love those who were different than them, if they couldn’t get along with the gay rights group. I think it’s a good point. I’m all for teaching my kids that some people fall in love with people who are the opposite sex and some people fall in love with those of the same sex.

At the risk of opening up a can of worms, how do you intend to deal with the subject of homosexuality with your children? And any comments on the Iowa ruling?

The week that we closed on our house, I learned a very valuable lesson. Thou shalt not bite off more than thou can chew…I’m pretty sure that’s written somewhere. Sure, it was supposedly spring break, but that was for my husband. There’s no such thing as spring break for a freelancer mom. I’ve stated before (usually under my breath) that jobs always come knocking on my door at the worst possible moments. I feel a bit childish complaining about this, but come ON. There’s got to be a rule somewhere about keeping work evened out…I used to think that in college too (my professors didn’t agree, and midterm papers and exams all came in the same week anyway). In both cases (midterms, and a couple of weeks ago), I felt like the kid in this picture by the end.

So I’ve become a bit more determined to help myself out in this regard. I have set my profile to “not accepting new projects” in the short term, on one of my freelance translation sites. It’s not that I don’t need the cash, and it’s not that I really want to turn down jobs, but let’s face it…in the next couple of weeks with my husband gone all day at work, and all evening working to get our new home to a state of habitability, and having a toddler at home, and going to the bathroom every 15 minutes, and eating every 1.5 hours, I can barely keep up with my current commitments, let alone take on new projects.

It was really hard to click that “unavailable” button though. I could hardly stand it when it said that “prolonged absence could cut some or all of your repeat business off”. I don’t know if I would classify my absence as prolonged, but absence is absence, and I’ve never denied projects in the past. NEVER. Work from this particular avenue has been sporadic at best, but it always seems to come through when I’m in a pickle and need a little extra.

In the end I decided that sanity comes before money, and even before professionalism. And really, sanity is necessary for both of those things anyway. I’m not going to do my best work if I can’t spend enough time on it, and it won’t help me professionally or monetarily if I’m performing substandardly (and yes, I’m aware that that probably isn’t a word)…and let’s not forget the value of going through a move with a bit of grace and goodwill left coursing through my veins.

Do you ever have to turn extra projects down to keep life together?

Ahem,

May I please ask everyone who has been following the Nadya Suleman, the octuplets’ mom, saga to please come forward and show their face? Come on, I know I’m not the only one!

Okay, well even if I’m going to be the only one admitting to it these days, I get glued to the TV whenever something new about this woman comes out. When the babies were first born and the stuff about her being a single mother with six children already came out, I was outraged with the rest of the world. I don’t think it was responsible on her part to try for a seventh when she couldn’t take care of six on her own, but the babies are here, and so that’s pretty much a moot point.

I watched every minute of all of the Dr. Phil episodes about her (I know, I need to get a life). Like I said, my first feelings about this woman were disgust, and I was being pretty darn judgmental. She seemed like the kind of welfare mother that even liberals like myself could beat up on. I had some pretty strong words for the doctor that performed the invetro too. Did I hear someone just quack?

Anyway, I’m pretty much over all of that stuff. The babies are here, and they need care, and I’m definitely not one for advocating putting the kids in foster care. That sounds like a lose-lose for everybody…and plus, I’m not qualified to say that anyway.

Well, yesterday (okay and the day before, if I’m being honest) I watched the latest installment of this drama on Dr. Phil. It was all about Nadya firing the wrap around nursing care that donations were paying for. She’s been highly criticized in the media for this and I thought, when I first heard about it, for good reason.

Then I started really listening to this mother’s reasoning for firing these women. She had other care lined up, that she says is doing a better job. She felt uncomfortable with the original nursing staff. She felt that they were judging her and keeping her from spending time with her babies.

The nursing staff said that Nadya was very hands off with the children. That she was often doing other things…they mentioned shopping, and reading mail. They said that she was allowing sick people around the babies, etc.

I really started to feel for Nadya Suleman when I saw the nurses, and how much they disliked her personally. Maybe what they say about her is true and she doesn’t care about her kids, and she only wants fame, and she only talks to them and holds them when cameras are around. That’s very possible.

On the other hand, she could be a mom who made a bad decision to get pregnant again, and now she is trying her best to take care of 14 kids. I know one kid runs me ragged sometimes. I can’t even imagine the strain and stress that go along with having 14…by yourself.

I started thinking to myself all about different things that I do, that if the media wanted to spin, could possibly look really really awful. This week, my daughter was throwing tantrums and to the mix she added peeing on the carpet (on purpose) to her repertoire. All the parenting books say not to punish your kids for having accidents while they are potty training, but I definitely put her on time out for doing it purposefully.  If a tabloid heard this, they might scream child abuse, or whatever. All of this could be blown way out of proportion.

I’m one of those people that thinks that, in general, parents make pretty darn good decisions, and they really are the best ones to speak on behalf of a child’s best interests. So, if Nadya says she felt uncomfortable with those nurses, I don’t blame her for getting rid of them. I know that these particular nurses are trained specially to care for premature babies. I also know that I had a similar experience with these type of nurses, who cared for my daughter in the hospital following her birth. They did things that I consider to be unethical like suggesting that I not breastfeed, and limiting my time with my daughter.

Either way, I’m not judging this woman anymore. As far as I know, she is trying to figure out a way to keep their family afloat financially (which could explain her reasoning for all of the publicity), as well as through nurturing. I’m not part of their life, and I’m certainly not close enough to the situation to know if she made the right choice in getting those women out of her house. Although, I suspect that it isn’t in the best interest of children to be cared for by people that feel such strongly negative feelings about the only mother that they have in the world.

I basically only touched on the issues that the Dr. Phil stuff hit on, but if you want a more in depth look (and a much more heated response) I suggest you check out the Nadya Suleman post over at Thought for Food. I love the author’s point about “Total Transparency”…and I totally agree.

Do you have strong feelings about the “octomom”? Do you think there are implications for society at large if the public gets too involved with this family?

I am a very fortunate person. I recognize this and reflect on it every now and then, but I’m especially fortunate in my married life. I happen to be one of those ladies who is married to a true partner. I have a few friends whose husbands complain about the state of the house when they return from work, or who have to remind their farmer husbands that “tractors don’t come up to you and interrupt lunch or bug you while you’re in the bathroom…so back off”.

No. My husband pretty much gets it. He knows that when he comes home from work on some days, the house is going to be a wreck, our child will be naked, and I will look like I’ve attempted to pull my hair out while still wearing last nights’ stained pajamas.
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As the birth of our next baby is becoming an impending reality, I’m starting to spend more and more time thinking of the actual birth. This might sound strange, but I really looked forward to giving birth to my daughter drug-free. I was present when my mother gave birth to one of my sisters when I was a child, and that experience has led to me think of birth as one of the wonders of life that is a privilege to experience. Don’t get me wrong, I have no illusions about how much it hurts, or what hard work it is. However, the sound and look of bliss that emanated from my mom at the end was something that I will never forget. It’s seared on my brain.

When it came time for my daughter to be born however, we ended up with a C-section. I remember lying on the operating table and being more terrified than I had ever been in my life. I hadn’t prepared myself for the possibility that this would be the outcome. I had been waiting for the big finish, and the feeling of accomplishment. I never expected to meet my daughter while lying flat on my back with my intestines still sitting on my abdomen. In all honesty, it’s taken me a while to get over that.
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Quite a while ago now, I wrote a blog post where I ruthlessly made fun of my husband for his “idiosyncrasies” when it came to how he organizes his stuff. You see, among other things, he used to keep his CD’s in alphabetical order by category, and listen to them in that order. He also used to be a total freak about scheduling out our day. A lazy Saturday might have an itinerary like this “Well honey, from 8:15 to 9:45 we’ll be at the farmer’s market, and then go to the coffee shop until 11:30. I would like to walk the dog promptly at noon, and grab lunch at say 1:06…so that I have time to walk my normal route, and get a 12 minute shower in.”

Okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad, but I do remember a time when we were dating where he told me that we were going to hang out with friends and that there was no time table involved, but had a near brain hemorrhage when I took 20 minutes to get ready.
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