Sunday, October 31, 2010
In reality, I am having a hard time adjusting to being a soccer mom. This is purely selfish. I don't like getting up early on Saturday mornings, I don't like the impossible hassle of which-field-which-kid-what-time of having TWO boys in soccer, and (slap me, here), sitting on the sidelines is (maybe, a bit, sometimes) a little bit boring. I'd rather be doing something else. Soccer practice twice a week (once per child) is way worse. It's at dinnertime, and I don't have the advantage of a husband who is home at 5 pm to help with evening activities. 4 of every 8 days, he's working during the supper-soccer rush. Once the kids are old enough to help cook, it will get easier. Once they are old enough to leave in the house for short periods, it will be fine! But right now I have to plan a dinner around leaving the house at 5:45 for an hour and a half. Load three boys in the van, unload, mind two of them while the other one has practice, load them back in the van, unload, either eat (if we haven't eaten yet: usually the case), or start with bedtime, and I'm. Fricksausted.
Once 4:30 pm hits, I'm usually running full tilt til 8. Make dinner, monitor child behavior, (possibly practice violin with Ayden if I can leave dinner cooking), feed/eat dinner, monitor child behavior, clean up from dinner, monitor child behavior and unsuccessfully try to initiate bedtime clothing and tooth brushing from the kitchen sink, get children in pyjamas (any who have not done this task have no idea how hard it is--any transition is difficult for children, but transitioning in and out of CLOTHING is absolutely ridiculous), brush teeth, read stories, give cuddles, monitor child behavior, practice violin with Ayden if not done yet, replace errant two year old in bed, settle Ayden in bed, fall onto couch, and check time. Oh, 8 pm. Sometimes later.
Squeezing soccer practice into all this makes me very....cranky.
Luckily, the kids looooooooove soccer. And they are really getting so good at it. And I'm adjusting, slowly. By the time I get accustomed to this routine, soccer will be finished! Soccer season is six months. The kids play in sun, frost, rain, mud, thundershowers, but not snow.
If Brent was around to help with soccer all the time, I would enjoy it much more. It's the single soccer parenting I detest so much.
It's also not reeeeeeeeeeally kosher to drop your kids off at soccer practice just yet. I'm wondering what age that happens? Because it would be much less disruptive to drop them off and go back to dinner, which is what we actually did last Wednesday with Matthew. I'm not sure WHY everyone stays on the sidelines for practice every week? In case their kid gets hurt? Moral support? Discipline? Tying shoelaces? But we do. So I follow the herd. Except for Wednesday.
Part of this is also that dinnertime is Riley's worst time of day. He's overtired and wants to nap, but it's too close to bedtime. If he'd sleep at noon he'd be fine but he's not tired enough then so we just put up with dinnertime freakouts. So loading Riley in the van generally requires the use of a bomb suit to protect all my body parts from flailing angry feet and arms and head, including those sharp little teeth, while I lift and buckle him into his carseat. And yet we just keep breeding.
The "Lasts" part of this post is about me being at work today, at quite possibly my final shift with BC Ambulance. Tuesday I am going to ask my midwife for a note to start my maternity leave early, on account of the painful contractions I get when I lift anything heavier than 15 lbs. My ultimate plan is to not come back here after my leave, although I'm keeping that option open in case I need to, financially. My hope is to get my own personal craft/doula/artwork business running while I'm off, enough to replace at least part of my paramedic income, so I can work from home. With 3 kids (and soon to be 4), we're finding it a bit strenuous not to have at least one parent home for the logistics of running the house, and I'm ready to move on anyways. It will help me bide my time until I get into midwifery school (if I get into midwifery school), which I'm seeing will be much easier to manage as a career if my kids are a bit older anyways.
So I'm at work. And on the one hand, I feel sad to just leave it all behind. We have some really fun times, and I'm definitely not sick of taking care of injured people. Sick people, somewhat. But major trauma is what we all sign up for, and none of us ever get enough of it. =) Most people are all, EW GROSS HOW CAN YOU HANDLE IT??? And most of us paramedics are all, How can you live without it? Variety. So good.
On the other hand, I'm tired. I have to get up at 4 a.m. to be on time for day shifts. That SUCKS. I'm a peeon. I'm sick of the heirarchy. I'm sick of working with cranky partners. I'm sick of the stupid ambulance always getting dirty again right after you wash it, and the tanks always draining (fuel and oxygen), and the supplies always disappearing, and the batteries always needing replacing, and the drugs always expiring, and it just is a neverending cycle, much like laundry.
I get enough of laundry type cycles at home, thank you very much!
It's sad to walk away from it all though. I invested a lot into this job, thinking I'd be here for longer than I was. But I got OUT as much as I put IN, which is a ton, so I'm grateful for that! It's not your average desk job, that's for sure.
Goodbye, BC Ambulance. You haven't been good to me, but I had fun anyways =)
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
What is scary? Poverty. How people get trapped by their own self definitions more than any other factor. Hatred. Complacent medicine. Bullying coworkers. Loneliness. Women who starve to death in Canada, a wealthy country, which is tossing food in the garbage like fish guts and with social assistance for hungry people, but where a woman can starve to death of anorexia. Also, I never got used to the maximum security prison in the town where I work. Prison is scary. For similar reasons, so are nursing homes.
People have an incredible capacity to heal. I saw a man once stuck in the rotating planer at the sawmill, his arm was in pieces and I thought for sure he would die, but in the end not only did he survive, but his arm did, too. They managed to piece it back together in surgery, and he was able to work again within a year. I've met survivors of Rwanda, the depression, the Holocaust, Residential schools, horrific childhoods, and terrible tragedies, who have healed.
Sometimes, silence is a gift.
People really are poor enough to necessitate burning their own furniture in the winter, in Canada, sometimes.
Poverty has nothing to do with money. It's about emotional pain, lack of resources, drug addiction, alcoholism, emotional trauma, lack of education, lack of healthy community, and lack of an ability to see that life could be any different in any way.Sometimes, it is just as difficult to die as it is at other times to live. LIFE marches on, and the Universe/God/Fate/Providence has something else in store for a life, sometimes. I once met a man who slashed his wrists and survived. A few months later he drove his car off a cliff, landed on train tracks, and was struck by a train traveling over 80 kilometers an hour. He was looking up through the sunroof of his car, broken limbs, still alive.
Death can be really, really funny. I mean, you have to have a somewhat dark sense of humor to cope with a job like mine, but some of the most hilarious moments I have encountered in life have been juxtaposed with death. How can I explain this? It sounds so insensitive. But really, it feels more appropriate a response somehow, because it is celebratory of life.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
"When we adults think of children, there is a simple truth which we ignore: childhood is not preparation for life; childhood is life. A child isn’t getting ready to live; a child is living. The child is constantly confronted with the nagging question, “What are you going to be?” Courageous would be the youngster who, looking the adult squarely in the face, would say, “I’m not going to be anything; I already am.” We adults would be shocked by such an insolent remark, for we have forgotten, if indeed we ever knew, that a child is an active participating and contributing member of society from the time he is born. Childhood isn’t a time when he is molded into a human who will then live life; he is a human who is living life. No child will miss the zest and joy of living unless these are denied him by adults who have convinced themselves that childhood is a period of preparation. How much heartache we would save ourselves if we would recognize the child as a partner with adults in the process of living, rather than always viewing him as an apprentice. How much we would teach each other… adults with the experience and children with the freshness. How full both our lives could be. A little child may not lead us, but at least we ought to discuss the trip with him, for after all, life is his and her journey too."
-Professor T. Ripaldi
(borrowed from Melodie)
Friday, October 22, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Hooray! You're halfway there! And in case you don't believe 20 weeks is a milestone worth celebrating, consider that it's longer than a semester at college—or any relationship you had in high school. Congrats! This is also the week your bambino is able to flash you on the sonogram, revealing what exactly he or she is packing. Why not celebrate with a bottle of sparkling grapefruit juice? It's not as sexy as champagne, but it's got bubbles, and that counts for something, right?
Wondering what's up with your body, your baby and your life this week? Read on ...
What You're Thinking
"Twenty down, 20 to go!!"
Stretch marks are the battle scars of pregnancy. Think of those tiny lines on your belly, breasts and butt with pride, not embarrassment. They're caused by your skin stretching to accommodate your growing belly—a necessary evil!
The truth is stretch marks are difficult if not impossible to avoid. But, hey, even if cocoa butter isn't a wonder cure, it sure does feel good going on ... especially if your partner does it for you! And it makes you smell like a freshly baked chocolate cake! And the good news? A dermatologist can help lessen the appearance of stretch marks after your pregnancy.
And it doesn't stop there. Other skin changes like acne and rashes are also common while pregnant. So if you're breaking out all over, you're not alone and it will go away.
Your baby has established sleep patterns akin to a newborn now. Many babies even have a favorite sleep position already. Some snooze with their chins resting on their chests, while others nap with their head flung back. Many babies at this age fall into noticeable cycles of sleep and activity, so you may know before she arrives whether you have a night owl or an early bird.
If your baby is a boy, the testes have begun descending from the pelvis into the scrotum. If it's a girl, her uterus is completely formed and the rest of her "parts" are in development.
From this point forward, your baby will put most of her energy into gaining weight and, not coincidentally, so will you! Right now your baby weighs approximately 10½ ounces and is about 6½ inches long.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Riley is a professional organizer at heart:
My boys dressed up for the wedding...aren't
My bff was a bridesmaid, so we got to hang out
Monday, October 11, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010