Back to Business

So after 17 months of being at home I am going back to work tomorrow.

We went back to school shopping today (well school shopping for Jill seeing as this is her first time going to school). Apparently Jill grew 3 feet over the summer because any pants that fit her in June are now culottes and her belly is poking out of every shirt she owns.

It may not surprise you to know that Jill is very particular about the clothes she wears.

She doesn't like pockets, she won't wear any pocket-pants. She doesn't like certain colours. She doesn't like certain fabrics.

She likes what she likes.

Fortunately we found a lot of things she likes. The only contentious piece is the fall coat that I picked out for her. She rightly informed me that just because I like it doesn't mean she will.

She'll wear it. She'll have to, it's going to get cold.

I got a new coat too. And some shirts. I am happy!

Jill decided that the dress we got today would be her new 'brave dress'. Her current brave dress is a pink dress that doesn't fit her. The spaghetti straps have fallen off and are poorly tied together. She has to wear a shirt and pants under it if she wants to leave the house.

She wears this dress whenever she is feeling anxious about something and needs to be brave. She wore to her first day of camp. She wore it to the doctor. She wore it to a first play date with a new friend.

Some kids have blankets, mine has a dress.

So we got a new brave dress. It is sitting on her shelf all ready for tomorrow.

Tomorrow she is going to daycare for the first time. I was going to transition her in slowly, like I am with Cait. Jill looked at me funny and asked "Why?". She pointed out that we didn't transition to summer camp, or pre-school, or anything else. She just wants to start daycare and be done with it.

I told her that we would all take Friday off and be together for the day. She thought about that and then asked if she could go to daycare instead. Even at 4 she seems to know herself better than most adults do.

I will take her to daycare on Friday because the day at home is really for me. I want one last day home with my kids before everything changes.

I am proud of Jill that she knows what is best for her. She does do better in a program. She thrives on routine. She beams for circle time. She is going to do great.

I think I need a brave shirt ('cause I don't wear dresses). I am only needing to be brave about going back to work having the girls in daycare, but that's enough.

The Big Decisions

Grilled steak or mini-burgers?

That is my big decision right now.

Life is good. If that is the biggest thing I have to worry about then that 'aint too bad!

Tomorrow I am hosting Wine Club (this month's theme: food pairings) for the first time at my place and I don't know what to make to pair with the Grenache that I chose.

I decided to make some tapas to go with the Rose we will be starting with, but I'm just not sure about my main.

Jill is super excited. She had me make a sign for the door that says "Ladybug Butterfly Restaurant". She is so excited for all the ladies to come over (all 4 of them!). I believe she has a fancy dress party dress all picked out.

This evening we had a conversation (when she should have been sleeping) about making menus for our guests. Chef Flower (Jill) was telling me, Chef Hummingbird, that Sous Chef Texas Pete (Rob) couldn't tuck her in because we hadn't finished making decisions about the menus yet.

I think she is looking forward to this.

Having a group of (relative) strangers coming over for a dinner party has given us the excuse we needed to start purging. So much purging. I have already taken almost all of the Testing Toys and infant toys to school to be donated. That made quite a large dent. I went through boxes of stuff that were piled in the corner of our room and found the special children's books I had set aside before Jill was born to keep them safe. That was almost 5 years ago. At least I found them!

I found notebooks from University. The notes weren't all that interesting, but the doodles in the margins make quite the commentary on my mental state 11 years ago.

I found all sorts of what-not that I remember feeling very strongly about keeping at that time. I don't remember why I felt that way though. So I threw most of it out.

It felt good.

We are also moving the kids toys out of the living room so we can pretend that your lives don't normally look like a Toys R Us that just got hit by a tornado.

I looks good.

It will all get moved back soon enough, but that's ok with me. Talk to Rob, he might feel different about it!

Grilled steak.

There, nothing left to decide!

The Whole Story

My children took some work and intervention to be here. There were teams of doctors, reams of needles, and lots of tears.

Jillian's story is fairly uneventful. 4 cycles, 2 drugs, 1 miscarriage, and a beautiful baby girl.

Cait's story is a tad more complex. Most of the time I don't think about it.

That's a lie.

I live it every day. It just doesn't always bubble up to the top.

Cait fell on her head the other day (she's a climber) and we ended up taking her to the Kid's Clinic to get checked out. There was a terrible med student doing our visit. I didn't mind because at that point I knew that Cait was ok and in no danger of a closed head injury or concussion. I actually found the struggling resident a little amusing as she fumbled along with the exam.

When the doctor came in for the consult she was told that "After an uneventful pregnancy, labour and delivery this 15 month old ..."

That was when I started laughing.

There was nothing uneventful about Cait's pregnancy. Labour and delivery were fine (C-section) but the post part was rough too.

Do I have to tell Cait the whole story? We plan to tell her the highlights version when she is older, but not all the gritty details. Will this continue to be a vital part of her medical history? When will it cease to be important? Will she, as a woman, have to retell this story every time she meets with a new doctor?

No one asks me what my marks were in kindergarten. They don't even want to know what they were in university. There comes a point where it just doesn't matter anymore. Does the same apply to birth stories?

Don't Mock Me

I like reality TV.

There I admitted it.

I have been known to watch entire episodes (ok fine, seasons) of Survivor, The Hills, Hells Kitchen, the Amazing Race, ...

Like you don't watch them too.

They are like my soap operas. An alternate reality so foreign from my own that I can't help but become totally absorbed.

When reality TV first hit the airwaves (although you can argue that it has been a part of the television medium since the first signal was broadcast) I actually called Rob from an airplane to make sure that the VCR was set to record Survivor. Who does that?

My viewing has been greatly diminished since the arrival of Jill and Cait, but I just can't seem to help myself from sneaking away to get a dose of it. This evening I left Rob with both girls so that I could watch Chef Ramsey hurl insults at contestants and kick one off the show. I know that if I want to watch great chefs cook I could watch Top Chef, or even Iron Chef. But they lack a certain appeal.

Call it the 'Jerry Springer Factor'.

I try to have a moral compass for my viewing, but there seems to be a direct correlation between how trashy a concept is and how many people want to watch it.

Jill's school would like to do a Rose Ceremony (don't even get me started with Jill's school, I am sure there will be a rant or two to come) at the start of each year and all I could think of was the Bachelor.

I much prefer the Bachelorette!

When Did That Happen?

When you hold a new born baby they worm their little hands around until they find some skin, even just a tiny bit of it, that they can press their palm to. They are calmed and feel whole again.

My girls seem to view my body as an extension of their own. And it is, that is how they started. One body became two, and then was one plus one.

Cait still holds onto me like we are part of the same being. Jill doesn't.

When did that happen?

When did she start to realize that we are not pieces of the same whole? When did she start to see that she was whole unto herself?

I know that it is just an illusion that we are separating. Lacan made a name for himself trying to explain how we are all fooled.

So why does it make me feel so sad when I notice it? Why do I find myself in search of Ojbet Petit a?

My pride at her growing up always seems to have the flip side of mourning the passing of what was.

I love the age she is, but I miss the age she was.

I haven't started this journey with Cait yet, but I know it is coming.

Good thing they are such great kids and get more amazing each day!

Great Hair Day

With all the humidity and heat my hair has been a frizz factory. It is hard to manage at the best of times, but I have no clue what to do with it in this weather.

Jillian has never looked more radiant.

She is the only person I know whose hair looks better in humid weather.

They curls are tighter, it looks shinier, it bounces better.

It's not fair.

She's cute and she has great hair.

Lucky kid!

Play Dates

Let's start by being totally honest.

Play dates are for me, not the kids.

Oh sure, the kids have a good time. They play and run and do all those things that little kids are supposed to do when playing with a friend. They trash the place with their toys. Remnants of snack are found in many little corners. They learn (sometimes very loudly) about sharing and cooperating.

But most importantly I get to sit and talk to another adult. We watch the kids and play along for some of the time, but we also get to chat. Usually about our kids. But it is so therapeutic. I have so much fun!

This will change as the girls get older and start to have their friends over without parents.

Now when I want to get together with a friend it is under the guise of a play date for my kids. We meet at a park or at one of our homes. It is all about socializing our children ... ha!

It is really all about socializing me :)