After getting use to the paxil I began to feel a little more cheery. The school year came to a close, my marks were looking up and I was heading home to spend the summer with RD. Unfortunately, I soon found out that I had not been accepted into residence the following year and was forced to find last minute accommodations off campus. I had a car, so that was helpful, but it also limited where I could live as parking was essential. I ended up finding a basement apartment to be shared with one other student. It was excessively small; two bedrooms, a kitchenette and a small bathroom. The other student was a lovely girl, but we had conflicting schedules and no common room to sit in so I barely saw her.
The situation forced me into isolation. I tried to spend time on campus but quickly lost touch with the spontaneous activities of friends. The library was at least a place where there were other people, but to see the others studying together only emphasized the fact that I was alone. I eventually spent a lot of time in my bedroom, which was pretty dark being underground with only one tiny window. I felt secure there for a while, like a child hiding under the covers of their bed hoping the bad feelings would pass. Believe it or not I had a boyfriend at the time, but we had been dating for over a year and he had slipped into the habit of taking me for granted and only calling me when his friends were busy.
Eventually I actually started thinking about what would happen if I took two of my pills at a time; would I feel better? Maybe that was what I needed, just a higher dose. The thoughts quietly came in and out of my mind like the tide, gradually getting unnoticeably worse. What if I took more than two? What would happen then? How long would it take for someone to notice I wasn't in class? How long before my friends realized that I had not called? What about my boyfriend, would he care? Would he even notice? How long would it be before someone noticed I was gone?
Of course my family would have known within 24 hours if I didn't answer the phone for my nightly call with my daughter. The landlord would notice once the rent was due, or my roommate once she got home from classes. The obvious things don't seem so obvious when you are depressed though. I knew I was in a bad place so I called my mom really late one night and she made the four hour round trip to bring me home. She asked me what was wrong during the car ride and I simply told her, between the tears, that I was just really sad and needed to come home.
I made more of an effort after that to quietly seek out company and not to be alone. If I couldn't go home on a weekend I would find people to hang out with on campus, or go to the mall and talk to the staff in the stores. I started having lunch at the campus pub and making friends with the staff there. I would find anyway I could to be around and interact with people without having to flat out admit that I was afraid to leave myself alone with myself.
I reapplied to residence for the following year and got in. I also started working at the campus pub. By January of that year I decided that I didn't want to be fighting against myself with these antidepressants. I didn't want them around me in case I started to wonder how many I could take again. Strangely enough, the biggest reason I didn't want to be taking the pills anymore was because I didn't want to HAVE to take them anymore. It really bothered me that I might have to take some type of medication for the rest of my life. So I stopped. One day I just decided I wasn't going to take them and I through them away. My room mate found out and got very upset; "You can't just stop taking something like that!" My doctor had a similar reaction, insisting that I needed to be slowly taken off such medication. The doctor looked at me with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, then asked how long I had been off them and how I was feeling. The truth was, much better.
I have not had any relapse since then, but I remember what it feels like. Only once, many years ago, did I start to have the same hopeless, trapped feelings, but I recognized them quickly and removed myself from the situation. Antidepressants worked for me for a little while, but I think I had some things I just needed to deal with as well. Later, when I did a little research into them, I realized how dangerous it really was that I simply stopped taking the pills. Even more dangerous though, was the self induced seclusion that I started employing as the depression settled in. If my room mate had not noticed the first signs with the insomnia and loss of appetite and sent me to the doctor I may have been much worse off.
It is really important not to let someone segregate themselves if you think they may be suffering from depression. If someone seems a downer to be around, try to figure out why first before you start excluding them. Most of all, it is important to know that real depression is beyond their control. It is actually a chemical problem in their brain and they need help. If you have feelings like you are alone, when you are around a lot of people, if you feel like you could scream and go unnoticed, just scream. Honestly - SCREAM! You'll see that a lot of people will notice you and one of them, someone who is or will be a friend, will help.
FBM
Wednesday 29 February 2012
“ If you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best. ” ― Marilyn Monroe
I will do my best to keep this entry to one post, but I have a feeling that wont be possible; I apologize in advance.
Like Marilyn, we all have our ups and downs. As the story goes, she had a lot more downs. Myself, I had some not so nice experiences in my earlier years, but can also say for certain that I hit my lowest then and survived. Anyone who knows me and is about to read this post may find it rather shocking; maybe not. It is what it is, however, and I agree with the title post completely.
During my first pregnancy I dealt with a lot of terrible people. Some I have mentioned in earlier posts. The worst one I may never mention at all. Needless to say, I was not in the happiest of places when I had RD, which is not a great start to a situation where the brightest and happiest women are afflicted with postpartum depression. As I mentioned previously, I had RD in September and took a mere two weeks off school and three weeks off work. My Grandfather, who was ill at the time, was actually well enough to drive us home from the hospital. By December, however, his health had rapidly declined. My mother quietly informed us that he was suffering from cancer of the mouth.
I had been taking only two classes that semester and was home for lunch that day. My mother informed me that a lawyer was coming by to visit my Grandfather so that he could rewrite his will. Shortly before I was to leave for my afternoon class my Grandfather collapsed. I would never wish what happened next on anyone. My mother was calling for help from the next room so I placed my 3 month old daughter on the floor out of harms way. When I entered the room my Grandfather was falling to the floor and my mother was hysterical. She kept asking me what to do and calling out to her father. I told her to call 911 and attempted to revive him as best I could. I was told later that I apparently got his heart going again, but it just wasn't enough. He passed away that day, not from the cancer, but from a heart attack. I blamed myself for a long time.
That year as a whole is kind of a blur, so I can not recall if it was before or after this happened that I ended up in the hospital myself. When I had given birth I had a type of hemorrhage called a retained placenta. Essentially the placenta crumbles in the uterus and causes you to bleed continually. I had surgery immediately after the birth for them to remove the remains and stop the bleeding. My mother says I almost died. In December I complained to my doctor that I was having a lot of issues with bleeding. It was discovered that they had missed some tiny piece of the placenta and I had been bleeding for the past 3 months. It's no wonder that I am now anemic.
When I moved away to school the following September I missed my daughter's first birthday. The girls I shared a residence with were using their freshman year as a freebie and partied constantly. My marks began to suffer greatly with me barely passing the majority of my courses. I began flipping between working my butt off and simply not caring. The next school year I had more focused room mates and changed my major to a subject I was inadvertently excelling at in comparison to my other classes. However, sometime that year, I started to suffer from insomnia and a lack of appetite. My one roommate saw the change and encouraged me to go see the school doctor so I could at least find a way to sleep.
The doctor posed a few follow up questions and I was soon diagnosed with depression. Not really postpartum depression, but a lot of the symptoms of that presume you are at home with your child so it is hard to say for sure. In addition, this was far outside the normal time frame for such a diagnosis. None the less, I was suffering from insomnia, lacking a will to attend class, (though I did my best at my room mates prodding), had very little appetite, and took no joy in the little girl who was growing up so quickly. These, among other symptoms, convinced the doctor to send me to the school psychiatrist. They also prescribed me paxil, an antidepressant.
Looks like I will have to continue this later.
FBM
Like Marilyn, we all have our ups and downs. As the story goes, she had a lot more downs. Myself, I had some not so nice experiences in my earlier years, but can also say for certain that I hit my lowest then and survived. Anyone who knows me and is about to read this post may find it rather shocking; maybe not. It is what it is, however, and I agree with the title post completely.
During my first pregnancy I dealt with a lot of terrible people. Some I have mentioned in earlier posts. The worst one I may never mention at all. Needless to say, I was not in the happiest of places when I had RD, which is not a great start to a situation where the brightest and happiest women are afflicted with postpartum depression. As I mentioned previously, I had RD in September and took a mere two weeks off school and three weeks off work. My Grandfather, who was ill at the time, was actually well enough to drive us home from the hospital. By December, however, his health had rapidly declined. My mother quietly informed us that he was suffering from cancer of the mouth.
I had been taking only two classes that semester and was home for lunch that day. My mother informed me that a lawyer was coming by to visit my Grandfather so that he could rewrite his will. Shortly before I was to leave for my afternoon class my Grandfather collapsed. I would never wish what happened next on anyone. My mother was calling for help from the next room so I placed my 3 month old daughter on the floor out of harms way. When I entered the room my Grandfather was falling to the floor and my mother was hysterical. She kept asking me what to do and calling out to her father. I told her to call 911 and attempted to revive him as best I could. I was told later that I apparently got his heart going again, but it just wasn't enough. He passed away that day, not from the cancer, but from a heart attack. I blamed myself for a long time.
That year as a whole is kind of a blur, so I can not recall if it was before or after this happened that I ended up in the hospital myself. When I had given birth I had a type of hemorrhage called a retained placenta. Essentially the placenta crumbles in the uterus and causes you to bleed continually. I had surgery immediately after the birth for them to remove the remains and stop the bleeding. My mother says I almost died. In December I complained to my doctor that I was having a lot of issues with bleeding. It was discovered that they had missed some tiny piece of the placenta and I had been bleeding for the past 3 months. It's no wonder that I am now anemic.
When I moved away to school the following September I missed my daughter's first birthday. The girls I shared a residence with were using their freshman year as a freebie and partied constantly. My marks began to suffer greatly with me barely passing the majority of my courses. I began flipping between working my butt off and simply not caring. The next school year I had more focused room mates and changed my major to a subject I was inadvertently excelling at in comparison to my other classes. However, sometime that year, I started to suffer from insomnia and a lack of appetite. My one roommate saw the change and encouraged me to go see the school doctor so I could at least find a way to sleep.
The doctor posed a few follow up questions and I was soon diagnosed with depression. Not really postpartum depression, but a lot of the symptoms of that presume you are at home with your child so it is hard to say for sure. In addition, this was far outside the normal time frame for such a diagnosis. None the less, I was suffering from insomnia, lacking a will to attend class, (though I did my best at my room mates prodding), had very little appetite, and took no joy in the little girl who was growing up so quickly. These, among other symptoms, convinced the doctor to send me to the school psychiatrist. They also prescribed me paxil, an antidepressant.
Looks like I will have to continue this later.
FBM
Monday 27 February 2012
"If a seed of a lettuce will not grow, we do not blame the lettuce. Instead, the fault lies with us for not having nourished the seed properly." - Buddhist proverb
http://edition.cnn.com/2011/09/06/living/teachers-want-to-tell-parents/index.html
I was led to the above link by a teacher friend of mine. First of all, before everyone gets their backs up, I must mention that I have many Good Teacher friends as well as family. Most of them do fantastic jobs and actually care a lot about the students and the content that they teach. My sister puts in excessive amounts of overtime to ensure that her lessons are not only relevant but engaging because she feels that to do anything less would be dishonourable to her profession and to the children in her class. I decided to write a response to this article because I feel it generalizes not only about parents, but teachers too.
There are many teachers who have joined the profession because they feel it will be an easy job with lots of vacation time. I know this because I have been told directly by some, have over heard others, and have been told so by the Good Teachers I know as well. I feel that these Bad Teachers become disgruntled when they suddenly realize that they are not only going to have to work but will also be held accountable for their teachings by their superiors and by parents.
I realize that the article being quoted is from CNN, an American based media, however it was forwarded on by a teacher friend in the UK and commented on by a teacher just around the corner in Canada. In Canada the public school board is funded by the residents through our taxes. Therefore, when we send our children to school the teachers essentially are our employees, being entrusted with the care and knowledge enrichment of our children. Should we not be questioning their methods? The content they choose outside of the required curriculum? The manner in which they choose to grade the students, while outlined by their superiors, is still under the graces of their opinion. Yes, they have been trained and are expected to be well versed in the subject they are teaching in order to pass a very educated opinion, but in many cases teachers are teaching a subject that they have no more education in than the student they are teaching. The worst part about this situation is that the students must depend on these classes to carry them through their post secondary education.
I say they depend on the classes because it is more than marks that they are dependent on. The grades they receive will, of course, determine if they are accepted into the post secondary institution they choose and the program they are seeking. If a teacher chooses to undervalue a student they could prevent them from legitimately getting into their academic field of choice. Likewise, if they overvalue, or give higher grades because they do not understand the course content, the student may get into a university classroom and be completely lost.
Clearly I value the power teachers have over a student's academic path. This does not even take into account the influence they have over students on a more personal level as children begin to look up to them. However, I do not think some teachers, the Bad Teachers, fully understand this, or perhaps they just don't care. I have contacted the school my daughter attends, both elementary and high school, to inquire about some poor marks. In most cases I received the attitude that is so strongly expressed in the article; I am a parent who is bothering them, causing issues, lacking trust, questioning them. They immediately have gotten on the defensive when, should they have entered the situation with an open mind, they would have found there was no need. We have been told time and again, as parents, that we should be more involved and that learning should not stop in the classroom. However, our attempts to do so are met with a sense of intrusion on something we apparently know nothing about. I believe, when it comes to our children, we do know a little something.
The one Good Teacher who responded in a positive manner to my inquiry helped my daughter achieve an amazing turn around in the class. As mentioned in the article, this change in grades was not to keep me off her back. We kept track of her tests, and given that it was a math class, she could not have skewed her marks. The Good Teacher called me at home and we discussed the issues my daughter was having in her class; she seemed to understand the content but was choking on tests, which were heavily weighted in the overall grade. She had always done well in math so we were both perplexed. We worked together to come up with some new study methods and my daughter was able to increase her mark by 20%!
The article says that parents need to accept that low grades are given by "Good Teachers" and that parents need to realize that this is what the student has earned. In some cases that may be so, but as a parent I am still going to question grades that are out of character for my daughter because those grades mean too much to her future. If there is someway that they can be improved in an honest manner than the teacher should be willing to work with the student and the parent to achieve that. Otherwise they are letting the student produce substandard work for their ability and cheating them out of the future they deserve.
All those teachers who are in it for the vacation time, the benefits and the easy short work day, QUIT! I have many friends who would be more than happy to take your job, who are sitting on the substitutes waiting list and busting their butts in interviews. They want to participate in the extracurricular activities, to produce engaging lessons, and to work with Good Parents to help children of all ages reach their potential. They care about the kids and the quality of their education; the rest is just icing on the cake.
FBM
I was led to the above link by a teacher friend of mine. First of all, before everyone gets their backs up, I must mention that I have many Good Teacher friends as well as family. Most of them do fantastic jobs and actually care a lot about the students and the content that they teach. My sister puts in excessive amounts of overtime to ensure that her lessons are not only relevant but engaging because she feels that to do anything less would be dishonourable to her profession and to the children in her class. I decided to write a response to this article because I feel it generalizes not only about parents, but teachers too.
There are many teachers who have joined the profession because they feel it will be an easy job with lots of vacation time. I know this because I have been told directly by some, have over heard others, and have been told so by the Good Teachers I know as well. I feel that these Bad Teachers become disgruntled when they suddenly realize that they are not only going to have to work but will also be held accountable for their teachings by their superiors and by parents.
I realize that the article being quoted is from CNN, an American based media, however it was forwarded on by a teacher friend in the UK and commented on by a teacher just around the corner in Canada. In Canada the public school board is funded by the residents through our taxes. Therefore, when we send our children to school the teachers essentially are our employees, being entrusted with the care and knowledge enrichment of our children. Should we not be questioning their methods? The content they choose outside of the required curriculum? The manner in which they choose to grade the students, while outlined by their superiors, is still under the graces of their opinion. Yes, they have been trained and are expected to be well versed in the subject they are teaching in order to pass a very educated opinion, but in many cases teachers are teaching a subject that they have no more education in than the student they are teaching. The worst part about this situation is that the students must depend on these classes to carry them through their post secondary education.
I say they depend on the classes because it is more than marks that they are dependent on. The grades they receive will, of course, determine if they are accepted into the post secondary institution they choose and the program they are seeking. If a teacher chooses to undervalue a student they could prevent them from legitimately getting into their academic field of choice. Likewise, if they overvalue, or give higher grades because they do not understand the course content, the student may get into a university classroom and be completely lost.
Clearly I value the power teachers have over a student's academic path. This does not even take into account the influence they have over students on a more personal level as children begin to look up to them. However, I do not think some teachers, the Bad Teachers, fully understand this, or perhaps they just don't care. I have contacted the school my daughter attends, both elementary and high school, to inquire about some poor marks. In most cases I received the attitude that is so strongly expressed in the article; I am a parent who is bothering them, causing issues, lacking trust, questioning them. They immediately have gotten on the defensive when, should they have entered the situation with an open mind, they would have found there was no need. We have been told time and again, as parents, that we should be more involved and that learning should not stop in the classroom. However, our attempts to do so are met with a sense of intrusion on something we apparently know nothing about. I believe, when it comes to our children, we do know a little something.
The one Good Teacher who responded in a positive manner to my inquiry helped my daughter achieve an amazing turn around in the class. As mentioned in the article, this change in grades was not to keep me off her back. We kept track of her tests, and given that it was a math class, she could not have skewed her marks. The Good Teacher called me at home and we discussed the issues my daughter was having in her class; she seemed to understand the content but was choking on tests, which were heavily weighted in the overall grade. She had always done well in math so we were both perplexed. We worked together to come up with some new study methods and my daughter was able to increase her mark by 20%!
The article says that parents need to accept that low grades are given by "Good Teachers" and that parents need to realize that this is what the student has earned. In some cases that may be so, but as a parent I am still going to question grades that are out of character for my daughter because those grades mean too much to her future. If there is someway that they can be improved in an honest manner than the teacher should be willing to work with the student and the parent to achieve that. Otherwise they are letting the student produce substandard work for their ability and cheating them out of the future they deserve.
All those teachers who are in it for the vacation time, the benefits and the easy short work day, QUIT! I have many friends who would be more than happy to take your job, who are sitting on the substitutes waiting list and busting their butts in interviews. They want to participate in the extracurricular activities, to produce engaging lessons, and to work with Good Parents to help children of all ages reach their potential. They care about the kids and the quality of their education; the rest is just icing on the cake.
FBM
Friday 24 February 2012
"Who said nights were for sleep?" - Marilyn Munroe
Once you get past that first month or so the sleeping situation does get better. It is still difficult to sleep, or anything else Marilyn may have been implying, but at least you are getting more of it in a less sporadic fashion. As the months progress the baby will start to fall into sleep patterns, both at night and during the day. Eventually you can begin sleep training your baby. The books say you should not attempt this before five months of age and really it might be necessary to wait a bit longer, given that a growth spurt hits around five months.
What is sleep training? For the laymen, like you and me, it essentially means starting to train the baby to sleep through the night, go to bed with out a bottle, be put to bed in a drowsy but awake state, or all of the above. Whatever issue you may be having with the sleeping habits of your child you will be working with them (training them) to adopt better habits. Now, hopefully, you have been instilling good habits from the beginning that will assist in making this process easier; a regular bed time routine, a regular bed time, a regular wake time, naps, comfortable sleeping area etc. Since I am not an expert on the many different methods I utilized the local library and borrowed a book on this subject. After sifting through the numerous suggested methods my husband and I settled on simply working with our son and the habits that he already had. This is TY journey to the land of Nod.
Around three months TY started sleeping through the night. I mean, he went down around 8 pm and did not get up again until around 8 the next morning. I thought I had won the jack pot. To think that he would be sleeping through the night from three months on was fabulous! Well, I thought wrong. This lasted a month or two and then he reverted back to waking a couple of times during the night wanting to eat again. At four months we were given permission from our doctor to start him on solids. Again, he started to sleep a bit better, but still awakened several times a night, which increased during growth spurts to every hour and a half.
I started working with him during nap times. I thought that, if I could get nap times down, it was just one more step to apply the same things to bed time. It was also easier to work with him during the day when I was awake and when no one else was home sleeping. First, if he awoke before his regular nap time was over and appeared grumpy (still sleepy) then I would not pick him up and would not change anything in the room. By this I mean that I did not turn off his "white noise", did not make conversation and did not turn on on any lights. Again, with it being day time, even with the curtains drawn there was still a little light in the room, which was easier than at night. I would simply gently pat his chest and say "shhhhhhh" if he was crying. I continued this until he fell back asleep.
Sounds easy, but it takes a lot of time, patience and consistency. I started giving him a limit (gradually extended) so that if he continued to cry without ceasing I would pick him up and revert back to regular snuggling to sleep. If, however, he showed signs of going to sleep such as not crying for a period of time, I would continue. Kind of like and IF statement - IF, THEN, ELSE, - if he does this, then I proceed in this way, otherwise (else) I do this. Gradually he started to get it and I could put him back to sleep within five minutes this way. Of course I needed to be keen to signs that he was hungry or needed changing as it is only right and fair to tend to these needs first.
As he got accustom to this we started to employ it at night and I moved on to another aspect during nap times. Through the same process I removed the swaddling as he needed it to go to sleep, but would wake himself during the night if he got out of it. I have also started training him to go to sleep on his own. The settling step helps a lot with this as it has already gotten him better at soothing himself. At nap time he now will stop playing and turn to me for cuddles. I pick him up and take him to his crib. Once I lay him down and give him his blanket (he is seven months now and blanket was also doctor approved) 8/10 times he will work to make himself comfortable and then go to sleep. I simply sit beside his crib, sometimes with my head down and eyes closed, so as not to engage him or make him think I want to play, and pat him a little if necessary. TY is adapting this at night time himself as I have heard him awake and put himself back to sleep. I can also put him down at night for bed this way. It has reduced the bedtime routine by about a half hour.
At present he still requires some white noise, we use a static radio station, to sleep. I think this will be one of the last things I remove as it takes no effort on anyone's part to have it in place. Gradually I may start lengthening the time between his last bottle and bed; probably just push it to before bath time instead. He still wakes at night, but usually only twice and because he is hungry and needs his diaper changed. Last night he only got up once. Overall I think he is doing well and will progress to an all night sleeper in the next couple months. Till then I will just have to keep my slippers by the bed and the night light in the hall.
Sweet Dreams!
FBM
What is sleep training? For the laymen, like you and me, it essentially means starting to train the baby to sleep through the night, go to bed with out a bottle, be put to bed in a drowsy but awake state, or all of the above. Whatever issue you may be having with the sleeping habits of your child you will be working with them (training them) to adopt better habits. Now, hopefully, you have been instilling good habits from the beginning that will assist in making this process easier; a regular bed time routine, a regular bed time, a regular wake time, naps, comfortable sleeping area etc. Since I am not an expert on the many different methods I utilized the local library and borrowed a book on this subject. After sifting through the numerous suggested methods my husband and I settled on simply working with our son and the habits that he already had. This is TY journey to the land of Nod.
Around three months TY started sleeping through the night. I mean, he went down around 8 pm and did not get up again until around 8 the next morning. I thought I had won the jack pot. To think that he would be sleeping through the night from three months on was fabulous! Well, I thought wrong. This lasted a month or two and then he reverted back to waking a couple of times during the night wanting to eat again. At four months we were given permission from our doctor to start him on solids. Again, he started to sleep a bit better, but still awakened several times a night, which increased during growth spurts to every hour and a half.
I started working with him during nap times. I thought that, if I could get nap times down, it was just one more step to apply the same things to bed time. It was also easier to work with him during the day when I was awake and when no one else was home sleeping. First, if he awoke before his regular nap time was over and appeared grumpy (still sleepy) then I would not pick him up and would not change anything in the room. By this I mean that I did not turn off his "white noise", did not make conversation and did not turn on on any lights. Again, with it being day time, even with the curtains drawn there was still a little light in the room, which was easier than at night. I would simply gently pat his chest and say "shhhhhhh" if he was crying. I continued this until he fell back asleep.
Sounds easy, but it takes a lot of time, patience and consistency. I started giving him a limit (gradually extended) so that if he continued to cry without ceasing I would pick him up and revert back to regular snuggling to sleep. If, however, he showed signs of going to sleep such as not crying for a period of time, I would continue. Kind of like and IF statement - IF, THEN, ELSE, - if he does this, then I proceed in this way, otherwise (else) I do this. Gradually he started to get it and I could put him back to sleep within five minutes this way. Of course I needed to be keen to signs that he was hungry or needed changing as it is only right and fair to tend to these needs first.
As he got accustom to this we started to employ it at night and I moved on to another aspect during nap times. Through the same process I removed the swaddling as he needed it to go to sleep, but would wake himself during the night if he got out of it. I have also started training him to go to sleep on his own. The settling step helps a lot with this as it has already gotten him better at soothing himself. At nap time he now will stop playing and turn to me for cuddles. I pick him up and take him to his crib. Once I lay him down and give him his blanket (he is seven months now and blanket was also doctor approved) 8/10 times he will work to make himself comfortable and then go to sleep. I simply sit beside his crib, sometimes with my head down and eyes closed, so as not to engage him or make him think I want to play, and pat him a little if necessary. TY is adapting this at night time himself as I have heard him awake and put himself back to sleep. I can also put him down at night for bed this way. It has reduced the bedtime routine by about a half hour.
At present he still requires some white noise, we use a static radio station, to sleep. I think this will be one of the last things I remove as it takes no effort on anyone's part to have it in place. Gradually I may start lengthening the time between his last bottle and bed; probably just push it to before bath time instead. He still wakes at night, but usually only twice and because he is hungry and needs his diaper changed. Last night he only got up once. Overall I think he is doing well and will progress to an all night sleeper in the next couple months. Till then I will just have to keep my slippers by the bed and the night light in the hall.
Sweet Dreams!
FBM
Wednesday 22 February 2012
To Sleep, Perchance to Dream...or Just Sleep Would be fine!!
Ah, sleep. The elusive pleasure that seems but a distant memory. From about the third trimester of pregnancy on you can expect to no longer sleep the same way as you did before; ever, ever again. I know that sounds pretty dismal, but unless your children have moved away from home and forgotten your phone number, a full nights sleep will be a rare occurrence from late pregnancy on.
When you hit the final trimester it can feel like a comfortable sleep is something that can just not be obtained. The baby is moving, kicking, sitting on your bladder, sitting on your spine, or all of the above in some interesting combination. You are now suppose to sleep only on your side. For me that was normal, but I suddenly was much more comfortable on my back. You may experience leg cramps, frequent trips to the bathroom or simply the inability to find sleep. I began to get over emotional due to the lack of sleep and started taking naps over the lunch hour. My husband, the wonderful man, would bring me home at lunch, make and pack me a lunch while I slept, and then wake me just in time to return to work. My theory is that this is preparing you for what I like to call the survival time period.
Doctors, friends, and mothers all love to talk about the labour and how horrible it will be. The intense pain and the extended amount of time a women has to endure labour and birth. These stories are very true, in most cases, but it must be emphasized that each labour, even for the same women, is different. That being said, the labour last hours, in worst cases a couple days. The survival time period that follows, however, lasts weeks!! This is the period when the baby is going through womb with drawl. If you think about it from their point of view, they have been in a nice dark, warm, secure small space for the past 9 months. Suddenly they are in this vast cold expanse, the one person they know (mom) is now...over there some where... and they are not receiving food as conveniently. It is no wonder a baby gets upset so easily, and they certainly can't be expected to know the difference between night and day. The only indication of that before was that mom was a little more sedentary at that time of the day.
What does this mean for you? The sleep pattern, that you have spent the last couple decades becoming accustom to, is now out the window. Baby wakes up every couple hours, needs food, clean diapers and then back to bed. We are told, as primary care givers, to sleep when the baby sleeps. Given that they sleep more hours out of the day than the average adult then we should have no sleep deprivation issues, right? For me it was not the quantity, but the quality and the inability to convince my body that sleeping at one in the afternoon was okay. There was also all the added chores that now needed to be done, like the additional laundry, that were preying on my mind. Finally, the mother instinct starts kicking in. You start sleeping with one ear open, waiting to hear the baby call so you can tend to them right away. You start changing diapers half asleep, nursing, and falling asleep in the chair only to wake to a stiff neck.
The survival time period is when you will need all those prepared meals that were made at your freezer party. This is the time to say "yes" to offers of assistance and that friend or family member who want to coo over the newborn for an hour or two while you get some shut eye. My doctor kept telling me that the most important thing was for me to take care of myself; seems strange because you would think the priority was the baby, but it makes sense when you think about it. Luckily I had my husband around for the first week. He took care of me, so I could take care of our son. It was hard to accept his help sometimes, and I often felt like a huge pain asking him for things, but he helped me make it through. Just not sure how he did!
FBM
When you hit the final trimester it can feel like a comfortable sleep is something that can just not be obtained. The baby is moving, kicking, sitting on your bladder, sitting on your spine, or all of the above in some interesting combination. You are now suppose to sleep only on your side. For me that was normal, but I suddenly was much more comfortable on my back. You may experience leg cramps, frequent trips to the bathroom or simply the inability to find sleep. I began to get over emotional due to the lack of sleep and started taking naps over the lunch hour. My husband, the wonderful man, would bring me home at lunch, make and pack me a lunch while I slept, and then wake me just in time to return to work. My theory is that this is preparing you for what I like to call the survival time period.
Doctors, friends, and mothers all love to talk about the labour and how horrible it will be. The intense pain and the extended amount of time a women has to endure labour and birth. These stories are very true, in most cases, but it must be emphasized that each labour, even for the same women, is different. That being said, the labour last hours, in worst cases a couple days. The survival time period that follows, however, lasts weeks!! This is the period when the baby is going through womb with drawl. If you think about it from their point of view, they have been in a nice dark, warm, secure small space for the past 9 months. Suddenly they are in this vast cold expanse, the one person they know (mom) is now...over there some where... and they are not receiving food as conveniently. It is no wonder a baby gets upset so easily, and they certainly can't be expected to know the difference between night and day. The only indication of that before was that mom was a little more sedentary at that time of the day.
What does this mean for you? The sleep pattern, that you have spent the last couple decades becoming accustom to, is now out the window. Baby wakes up every couple hours, needs food, clean diapers and then back to bed. We are told, as primary care givers, to sleep when the baby sleeps. Given that they sleep more hours out of the day than the average adult then we should have no sleep deprivation issues, right? For me it was not the quantity, but the quality and the inability to convince my body that sleeping at one in the afternoon was okay. There was also all the added chores that now needed to be done, like the additional laundry, that were preying on my mind. Finally, the mother instinct starts kicking in. You start sleeping with one ear open, waiting to hear the baby call so you can tend to them right away. You start changing diapers half asleep, nursing, and falling asleep in the chair only to wake to a stiff neck.
The survival time period is when you will need all those prepared meals that were made at your freezer party. This is the time to say "yes" to offers of assistance and that friend or family member who want to coo over the newborn for an hour or two while you get some shut eye. My doctor kept telling me that the most important thing was for me to take care of myself; seems strange because you would think the priority was the baby, but it makes sense when you think about it. Luckily I had my husband around for the first week. He took care of me, so I could take care of our son. It was hard to accept his help sometimes, and I often felt like a huge pain asking him for things, but he helped me make it through. Just not sure how he did!
FBM
Tuesday 21 February 2012
A little more baby time.
Upon reviewing my post from yesterday I noticed that it was quiet scattered as I tried to fit in information for this vast topic into one post. It also didn't help that I was trying to finish the post over several days and losing my train of thought each time I set it aside. Moving forward I will choose some subtopics in the field of Baby Talk and discuss each in separate, organized posts. I apologize for the lapse in my attempt to write in a somewhat comprehensive manner. (Blogging is harder than I thought!)
As I think this will be a short one this evening I will simply add a bit to my comments and tips for saving money. We touched on the many avenues for picking up the essential baby items that you might need for bringing baby home. With proactive thinking, such as the bulk buying mentioned earlier, you can save a lot of money as well. In preparation for my sons transition to solid foods, recommended to occur between 4 and 6 months, I contemplated purchasing a Baby Bullet. Luckily a friend of ours gave us one as a shower gift and we have used it quiet frequently since. I highly suggest putting this reasonably priced item on your shower registry if possible. The standard unit comes with two blades, one for milling and one for chop/blend/puree, the basic blender components as well as serving sized containers that can be dated. The benefit of the milling blade is that you can take rice or oatmeal and mill it to a powder, thus allowing you to make your own first cereals that are lump free. The other blade is for the regular blending of fruits, vegetables, meat etc as baby starts each new food. I use the portion size containers to standardize the amount of food I make for each meal, which lets me know how well my son is eating from one meal to the next. They are also very useful for travel. I fill one half way with dry rice cereal and can take it along to a restaurant for example and mix it at the table with his formula for a ready to serve lunch on the go.
I am not on some kick back list for this product, but am very grateful for having it. My husband and I had decided early on that we would make our own baby food. The math alone was enough to persuade us with little effort. A small baby jar (1 or 2 servings at best) will cost ~ .60 cents on sale. For arguments sake lets use a sweet potato for comparison, a common first food. One sweet potato can cost about .80 cents, but you will get 5 to 6 servings from it easily. That means to buy the same amount in the prepared form would cost about $1.80 on sale, which is more than twice the cost. I could give you many more examples but you can check it out yourself. You don't need to buy a Baby Bullet, but making your own baby food is very very inexpensive. In a Sunday afternoon I can make a 5 lb bag of apples into baby food; servings that last about a month. I simply freeze them in an ice cube tray and then pop them out into a freezer bag, labelled with item and date, and they are already in serving portions. Right now I have a freezer bag each of carrots, banana, apple, and butternut squash in the freezer that I take out and thaw as needed. They all mix well with oatmeal and rice cereal or as a side to some pureed chicken and potato.
Time for some shut eye while I debate what the next topic will be. Let me know if there is anything in particular you would like to have me weigh in on, otherwise I will just continue to blab about whatever I like. : D
Talk at you later!
FBM
As I think this will be a short one this evening I will simply add a bit to my comments and tips for saving money. We touched on the many avenues for picking up the essential baby items that you might need for bringing baby home. With proactive thinking, such as the bulk buying mentioned earlier, you can save a lot of money as well. In preparation for my sons transition to solid foods, recommended to occur between 4 and 6 months, I contemplated purchasing a Baby Bullet. Luckily a friend of ours gave us one as a shower gift and we have used it quiet frequently since. I highly suggest putting this reasonably priced item on your shower registry if possible. The standard unit comes with two blades, one for milling and one for chop/blend/puree, the basic blender components as well as serving sized containers that can be dated. The benefit of the milling blade is that you can take rice or oatmeal and mill it to a powder, thus allowing you to make your own first cereals that are lump free. The other blade is for the regular blending of fruits, vegetables, meat etc as baby starts each new food. I use the portion size containers to standardize the amount of food I make for each meal, which lets me know how well my son is eating from one meal to the next. They are also very useful for travel. I fill one half way with dry rice cereal and can take it along to a restaurant for example and mix it at the table with his formula for a ready to serve lunch on the go.
I am not on some kick back list for this product, but am very grateful for having it. My husband and I had decided early on that we would make our own baby food. The math alone was enough to persuade us with little effort. A small baby jar (1 or 2 servings at best) will cost ~ .60 cents on sale. For arguments sake lets use a sweet potato for comparison, a common first food. One sweet potato can cost about .80 cents, but you will get 5 to 6 servings from it easily. That means to buy the same amount in the prepared form would cost about $1.80 on sale, which is more than twice the cost. I could give you many more examples but you can check it out yourself. You don't need to buy a Baby Bullet, but making your own baby food is very very inexpensive. In a Sunday afternoon I can make a 5 lb bag of apples into baby food; servings that last about a month. I simply freeze them in an ice cube tray and then pop them out into a freezer bag, labelled with item and date, and they are already in serving portions. Right now I have a freezer bag each of carrots, banana, apple, and butternut squash in the freezer that I take out and thaw as needed. They all mix well with oatmeal and rice cereal or as a side to some pureed chicken and potato.
Time for some shut eye while I debate what the next topic will be. Let me know if there is anything in particular you would like to have me weigh in on, otherwise I will just continue to blab about whatever I like. : D
Talk at you later!
FBM
“The thing I want more than anything else? I want to have children...” ― Marilyn Monroe
On our second date my husband and I discussed children; if we both wanted them, how many and when. Many people find that shocking, but there is a lot about our relationship that people find out of the ordinary. While I will perhaps get into that in a later post, I would like to pass along little things I learned having my son. I know girls who are currently pregnant, trying to get pregnant, and planning to do so down the road, and as the first of our group to have children I want to pass on what I little I know in the hopes that it may prove useful to one of them, or you.
About two months after getting married my husband and I found out we were pregnant. This only occurred about one month earlier than planned. It was like, once we decided that we would start trying it happened instantaneously. Having been pregnant once before, but a long time ago, I had a general idea of what to expect but needed some refreshers. With RD morning sickness was more of a "I'm going to be sick" feeling with no follow through. With my son there was more actually being sick. I found that making sure I ate very regularly helped a lot. There was not much that I couldn't eat and, with my doctor's approval, nothing was off the table (except alcohol of course). I also made sure that I always had something to drink on hand, which helped keep some of the queasiness at bay. I am one of those people who usually know I am going to be sick with plenty of warning, but this pregnancy had me caught off guard a number of times. Since I was still working I kept a tooth brush, mouth wash and gum on hand at the office.
My husband and I reviewed many books and web sites telling us what we needed for the baby coming home from the hospital. We eventually got a list from our hospital as well regarding what supplies we needed to provided there too. Adding in previous experience we came up with our bear essentials list so that, after the shower, we knew what we needed and didn't get sucked in to all the "extra" stuff. Here are a few of the things we learned in the process:
- Sleepers - at least 2 newborn and the rest 0 to 3 months because if the baby is over 7 lbs newborn may not fit
- diapers - again, we bought a small pack of newborn and then a larger one of the first size up. IF you can find a sale where the diapers are around .19 - .17 cents each then stock up. We found, based on weight, that the #3 size will fit baby the longest in most cases.
- bum cream - basically vaseline or a zinc based ointment or cream for diapering. I use a cream with a low percentage of zinc (15%) for every diaper use (sensitive skin runs in the family) to help prevent rash and have a container of higher grade (40%) for when a rash starts to show up (later on I also use the higher grade for bedtime when my son is sleeping longer).
-wipes - buy the largest multi-pack you can find because you will need lots and they never change size :)
TIP: when changing a diaper, put the clean diaper underneath FIRST, then undo the dirty one. This lets you wipe their bum, move the dirty one out of the way, and apply bum cream without too many accidental messes and, with a boy, great efficiency.
- if nursing, a breast pump. This will not only come in useful if you get engorged, but also allow you to pump and let someone else feed the baby every once in a while.
I realize that there is talk about nipple confusion, but personal preference is to introduce the baby to a bottle early on. If, heaven forbid, you should end up in the hospital like I did, you may not be able to nurse. Having baby already familiar with the bottle makes a stressful time like that much easier on everyone. Also, if you are nursing, consider pumping and freezing some milk as back up for just such an emergency. Though not as serious, you could also get sick and require medication that would prevent you from nursing for a little while. Milk, if stored properly, can last several months in the freezer and can always be used later to add to babies first cereals.
- diaper pail is a must to keep odours under control. We were going to pick up a Diaper Genie but a friend recommended the Diaper Champ. Almost identical in theory to the Genie but you can use your own garbage bags. It's not available in Canadian stores but we picked ours up off Kijiji.
- check out the stores for pricing on the things you need to buy, but hold off on buying right away. After the shower re-asses you list and checkout re-use it resources. Mom to Mom sales happen semi annually in many communities; basically all the moms hold one big indoor garage sale of all things kid related. Places like Little Lables or Once Upon a Child not only sell but buy good used clothing and furniture (with strict quality and safety standards). Watch stores for clearance sales on seasonal items 1 year in advance. Again, there is Kijiji and Ebay, but buyer beware on safety items, especially recalls and expiry dates. Dollar store is great for little sorting baskets, bibs, and wall decals. Also talk to other moms you know; many are happy to pass on items they no longer need or will lend them to you until they need them again (make sure you know if they want things returned so you can prevent passing them on by mistake). Also, make sure you sign up for Welcome Wagon if you community has one. They will provide tons of local vendor coupons and discounts for baby and you.
I saw one site that estimated first year cost for a baby to be ~ $10,000; one time costs about $3,000 (eg. furniture) and the balance in ongoing (eg. diapers). My husband and I spent ~ $900 on one time items which includes the crib (mattress & bedding), high chair, swing, stroller and matching car seat, change table, gliding rocker and foot stool, exercise saucer (Baby Einstein), clothing etc. Check out BabyCenter.com - great resources.
One last thought for this post; even if your family hosts a shower, see if friends and family will get together for a freezer party. About a month before hand, get everyone together for a Saturday of cooking and stock up the freezer while pampering the (very tired) mom to be. The first three weeks after baby is born are referred to as survival time, and the heat and serve meals will be a God Send. Make sure they are portioned to accommodate a the number of people in you family and take as little prep as possible. That way you can throw something in the oven, set the timer (or better yet the auto shut off) and forget it. When you have had no sleep for days it is a wonder what a good meal can do to boost energy and moral!
FBM
About two months after getting married my husband and I found out we were pregnant. This only occurred about one month earlier than planned. It was like, once we decided that we would start trying it happened instantaneously. Having been pregnant once before, but a long time ago, I had a general idea of what to expect but needed some refreshers. With RD morning sickness was more of a "I'm going to be sick" feeling with no follow through. With my son there was more actually being sick. I found that making sure I ate very regularly helped a lot. There was not much that I couldn't eat and, with my doctor's approval, nothing was off the table (except alcohol of course). I also made sure that I always had something to drink on hand, which helped keep some of the queasiness at bay. I am one of those people who usually know I am going to be sick with plenty of warning, but this pregnancy had me caught off guard a number of times. Since I was still working I kept a tooth brush, mouth wash and gum on hand at the office.
My husband and I reviewed many books and web sites telling us what we needed for the baby coming home from the hospital. We eventually got a list from our hospital as well regarding what supplies we needed to provided there too. Adding in previous experience we came up with our bear essentials list so that, after the shower, we knew what we needed and didn't get sucked in to all the "extra" stuff. Here are a few of the things we learned in the process:
- Sleepers - at least 2 newborn and the rest 0 to 3 months because if the baby is over 7 lbs newborn may not fit
- diapers - again, we bought a small pack of newborn and then a larger one of the first size up. IF you can find a sale where the diapers are around .19 - .17 cents each then stock up. We found, based on weight, that the #3 size will fit baby the longest in most cases.
- bum cream - basically vaseline or a zinc based ointment or cream for diapering. I use a cream with a low percentage of zinc (15%) for every diaper use (sensitive skin runs in the family) to help prevent rash and have a container of higher grade (40%) for when a rash starts to show up (later on I also use the higher grade for bedtime when my son is sleeping longer).
-wipes - buy the largest multi-pack you can find because you will need lots and they never change size :)
TIP: when changing a diaper, put the clean diaper underneath FIRST, then undo the dirty one. This lets you wipe their bum, move the dirty one out of the way, and apply bum cream without too many accidental messes and, with a boy, great efficiency.
- if nursing, a breast pump. This will not only come in useful if you get engorged, but also allow you to pump and let someone else feed the baby every once in a while.
I realize that there is talk about nipple confusion, but personal preference is to introduce the baby to a bottle early on. If, heaven forbid, you should end up in the hospital like I did, you may not be able to nurse. Having baby already familiar with the bottle makes a stressful time like that much easier on everyone. Also, if you are nursing, consider pumping and freezing some milk as back up for just such an emergency. Though not as serious, you could also get sick and require medication that would prevent you from nursing for a little while. Milk, if stored properly, can last several months in the freezer and can always be used later to add to babies first cereals.
- diaper pail is a must to keep odours under control. We were going to pick up a Diaper Genie but a friend recommended the Diaper Champ. Almost identical in theory to the Genie but you can use your own garbage bags. It's not available in Canadian stores but we picked ours up off Kijiji.
- check out the stores for pricing on the things you need to buy, but hold off on buying right away. After the shower re-asses you list and checkout re-use it resources. Mom to Mom sales happen semi annually in many communities; basically all the moms hold one big indoor garage sale of all things kid related. Places like Little Lables or Once Upon a Child not only sell but buy good used clothing and furniture (with strict quality and safety standards). Watch stores for clearance sales on seasonal items 1 year in advance. Again, there is Kijiji and Ebay, but buyer beware on safety items, especially recalls and expiry dates. Dollar store is great for little sorting baskets, bibs, and wall decals. Also talk to other moms you know; many are happy to pass on items they no longer need or will lend them to you until they need them again (make sure you know if they want things returned so you can prevent passing them on by mistake). Also, make sure you sign up for Welcome Wagon if you community has one. They will provide tons of local vendor coupons and discounts for baby and you.
I saw one site that estimated first year cost for a baby to be ~ $10,000; one time costs about $3,000 (eg. furniture) and the balance in ongoing (eg. diapers). My husband and I spent ~ $900 on one time items which includes the crib (mattress & bedding), high chair, swing, stroller and matching car seat, change table, gliding rocker and foot stool, exercise saucer (Baby Einstein), clothing etc. Check out BabyCenter.com - great resources.
One last thought for this post; even if your family hosts a shower, see if friends and family will get together for a freezer party. About a month before hand, get everyone together for a Saturday of cooking and stock up the freezer while pampering the (very tired) mom to be. The first three weeks after baby is born are referred to as survival time, and the heat and serve meals will be a God Send. Make sure they are portioned to accommodate a the number of people in you family and take as little prep as possible. That way you can throw something in the oven, set the timer (or better yet the auto shut off) and forget it. When you have had no sleep for days it is a wonder what a good meal can do to boost energy and moral!
FBM
Friday 17 February 2012
“I believe that everything happens for a reason... Things go wrong so that you appreciate them when their right.” ― Marilyn Monroe
Alright, I'm on a MM quote kick. I kind of like linking her quotes to my posts, if I can find one relevant enough. We will see how long it lasts.
Since the last couple posts could leave many people thinking I am a guy basher, or simply cynical, I thought I would write a little about the good guys I've come across in my life. In my typical organizational fashion I think it best we work chronologically. First, of course, would be my father. He is a broad, not fat, tall man of over 6 feet with a very gentle face and demeanour, despite his strong presence. He very rarely yelled at us as children, and while he can be loud it is usually in a boisterous manner or because he is singing at church. He worked a lot for not a lot of pay, but made sure we were all taken care of. We didn't get to spend a lot of time with him as children because his weekends were filled with maintenance around the home. I learned to go find him and sit a talk to him while he worked. As I got older he let me help him a little. Since he did his best to do all the house hold repairs himself, I actually learned a lot that way. Taught me that books are wonderful resources, libraries have lots of free books, and it costs less and you learn more by doing something yourself than to pay someone to do it for you.
The next really great guy I knew, and still know, was my best friend from high school. It was only in retrospect that I realized what a good loyal friend he was, which just goes to show that you never really appreciate what you have. We hung out with the gang at lunch time, had similar classes, did homework together, went to the same parties, regular high school type stuff. When ever the other kids were giving me a hard time he was there to talk to and the few times I had to deal with a break up he would console me. I think he was really hurt when he found out I was pregnant and wondered why I hadn't gone to him when I the relationship went really bad. He was the one person I found it hardest to tell, aside from my family. As a true blue friend he offered to take his older (and very large) brother and teach the guy a lesson or two. He claimed it would make us both feel better, but I never consented. I think it was after we graduated that I found out he had a crush on me all through high school. He wondered how I never knew considering he would always call me about homework but never have it done the next day. As an objective reader I am sure it seems kind of obvious to you as well but I was quiet oblivious. I just didn't like him that way; once I thought I did, but I quickly realized it was just wishful thinking. It is true that you can't change the way you feel, which made it easier to understand when I was on the other end of the equation later on.
In university I tended to hang out with the guys more often than the girls, probably after being jaded by the way girls acted in high school. The ones that I could consider friends were more direct and honest about things. Twice in university I found myself at the other end of that terrible equation where I liked a guy who really, truly just wanted to be friends. There were also the guys who worked at the bar with me. I was a little intimidated by the big bouncer guys at first but quickly found most of them to be teddy bears at heart. The second year I worked there I became assistance manager, which meant a lot more responsibility and authority. I often had to kick drunk people out of the bar, people you might see the next day in class, and really appreciated the support those guys gave me. Often I would see them in the back ground just watching in case I needed a little muscle backup.
It may not seem like it from the outside, but a job like that can be dangerous. If you don't have the support of the bouncers they could leave you hanging out to dry in a bad situation or simply not respect your authority. I recall vividly the first pub event my boss let me handle alone. It was being sponsored by the student union who had arranged for a WWF style wrestling event in the pub. I even think Honky Tonk Man was there. Anyway, they had this huge ring set up in the middle of the pub and the wrestlers would come out of the back, like on t.v., and get the crowd all riled up depending on if they were intended to be the good guy or the bad guy. This one wrestler came out and started harassing the crowd and really seemed to be getting in this one guys face. As I stood there horrified, the patron on the far side of the ring from me stood up and took a swing at the wrestler...THE WRESTLER! None of the door men moved. All I could think was "oh shit!" and started running over there...yes...think about that one...I was running over to break up a fight between a wrestler and a guy who thought he could take on a wrestler. Luckily Blaine, the bouncer on the far side of the ring, saw me bolt and, afterwords, told me he thought "oh shit" and ran too catapulting himself over a couple guys and getting the shocked wrestler in a head lock. Once Blaine had moved the other bouncers took off too. By the time I was there I simply needed to take care of crowd control, thank god, because I don't know what I would have done. After the night was over the bouncers all told me they thought it was part of the show until I bolted. Their quick moves stopped the fight from turning into a brawl because friends on both sides were ready to jump in. In any supervising job I've had I have worked with the motto "never ask someone to do something you are not willing to do yourself". I think people see that and it gains respect for you, your authority and your leadership. If those guys hadn't respected me, I'd probably... well who knows what would have happened.
The final good guy, or I should say the best guy, is of course my husband. I will leave the story about him for later because I think he deserves a post all his own. It is true, however, that all the good guys and bad guys I met before my husband made me realize quickly that I had found not only a great guy, but The Guy.
FBM
Since the last couple posts could leave many people thinking I am a guy basher, or simply cynical, I thought I would write a little about the good guys I've come across in my life. In my typical organizational fashion I think it best we work chronologically. First, of course, would be my father. He is a broad, not fat, tall man of over 6 feet with a very gentle face and demeanour, despite his strong presence. He very rarely yelled at us as children, and while he can be loud it is usually in a boisterous manner or because he is singing at church. He worked a lot for not a lot of pay, but made sure we were all taken care of. We didn't get to spend a lot of time with him as children because his weekends were filled with maintenance around the home. I learned to go find him and sit a talk to him while he worked. As I got older he let me help him a little. Since he did his best to do all the house hold repairs himself, I actually learned a lot that way. Taught me that books are wonderful resources, libraries have lots of free books, and it costs less and you learn more by doing something yourself than to pay someone to do it for you.
The next really great guy I knew, and still know, was my best friend from high school. It was only in retrospect that I realized what a good loyal friend he was, which just goes to show that you never really appreciate what you have. We hung out with the gang at lunch time, had similar classes, did homework together, went to the same parties, regular high school type stuff. When ever the other kids were giving me a hard time he was there to talk to and the few times I had to deal with a break up he would console me. I think he was really hurt when he found out I was pregnant and wondered why I hadn't gone to him when I the relationship went really bad. He was the one person I found it hardest to tell, aside from my family. As a true blue friend he offered to take his older (and very large) brother and teach the guy a lesson or two. He claimed it would make us both feel better, but I never consented. I think it was after we graduated that I found out he had a crush on me all through high school. He wondered how I never knew considering he would always call me about homework but never have it done the next day. As an objective reader I am sure it seems kind of obvious to you as well but I was quiet oblivious. I just didn't like him that way; once I thought I did, but I quickly realized it was just wishful thinking. It is true that you can't change the way you feel, which made it easier to understand when I was on the other end of the equation later on.
In university I tended to hang out with the guys more often than the girls, probably after being jaded by the way girls acted in high school. The ones that I could consider friends were more direct and honest about things. Twice in university I found myself at the other end of that terrible equation where I liked a guy who really, truly just wanted to be friends. There were also the guys who worked at the bar with me. I was a little intimidated by the big bouncer guys at first but quickly found most of them to be teddy bears at heart. The second year I worked there I became assistance manager, which meant a lot more responsibility and authority. I often had to kick drunk people out of the bar, people you might see the next day in class, and really appreciated the support those guys gave me. Often I would see them in the back ground just watching in case I needed a little muscle backup.
It may not seem like it from the outside, but a job like that can be dangerous. If you don't have the support of the bouncers they could leave you hanging out to dry in a bad situation or simply not respect your authority. I recall vividly the first pub event my boss let me handle alone. It was being sponsored by the student union who had arranged for a WWF style wrestling event in the pub. I even think Honky Tonk Man was there. Anyway, they had this huge ring set up in the middle of the pub and the wrestlers would come out of the back, like on t.v., and get the crowd all riled up depending on if they were intended to be the good guy or the bad guy. This one wrestler came out and started harassing the crowd and really seemed to be getting in this one guys face. As I stood there horrified, the patron on the far side of the ring from me stood up and took a swing at the wrestler...THE WRESTLER! None of the door men moved. All I could think was "oh shit!" and started running over there...yes...think about that one...I was running over to break up a fight between a wrestler and a guy who thought he could take on a wrestler. Luckily Blaine, the bouncer on the far side of the ring, saw me bolt and, afterwords, told me he thought "oh shit" and ran too catapulting himself over a couple guys and getting the shocked wrestler in a head lock. Once Blaine had moved the other bouncers took off too. By the time I was there I simply needed to take care of crowd control, thank god, because I don't know what I would have done. After the night was over the bouncers all told me they thought it was part of the show until I bolted. Their quick moves stopped the fight from turning into a brawl because friends on both sides were ready to jump in. In any supervising job I've had I have worked with the motto "never ask someone to do something you are not willing to do yourself". I think people see that and it gains respect for you, your authority and your leadership. If those guys hadn't respected me, I'd probably... well who knows what would have happened.
The final good guy, or I should say the best guy, is of course my husband. I will leave the story about him for later because I think he deserves a post all his own. It is true, however, that all the good guys and bad guys I met before my husband made me realize quickly that I had found not only a great guy, but The Guy.
FBM
Thursday 16 February 2012
"All a girl really wants is for one guy to prove to her that they are not all the same.” ― Marilyn Monroe
My son, who is only six months old, was watching two six year old girls in a near by booth at the restaurant the other day. He was sitting in his high chair eating lunch but kept glancing their way as he saw them playing. As he was finishing up I suddenly hear a little voice near me say "Can we meet your baby?" and look up to see the two little girls standing there. TY promptly pushed away his bottle and let them have a great big smile.
While I do not believe my son is a player (or will ever be) he certainly knows how to attract the ladies, even at his young age. There are always those young adorable little boys that the young girls seem to flock to and adults find so cute. Sometimes these boys receive far too much attention and once they get a little older their egos seem to grow right along with them. I knew far too many of these boys when I was young. They all had friends too, none of which were very nice. One such boy actually thought it would be funny to feign interest in me and passed me a note one day asking me out. In the note he told me that I should call him that night at home so we could talk. This was in elementary school of course and due to the small class I understood that, even if any boy liked me, he would be committing social suicide to admit to it; especially on paper. I thought I'd be smart and call him to tell him off. I even told another girl what I planned to do. Alas, he was at a hockey game and found out I called, assuming I had fallen prey to his joke. The tormenting lasted what seemed like forever. When I looked for support from the one person who knew I was wise to them, she claimed I had said no such thing, clearly gaining more approval from her lie than popularity from the truth.
That is how girls can be though; conniving, and deceitful at times, as I found out over the years. Boys are better than girls in at least that one facet. Boys are straight up when they don't like you or are mad at you. A boy will tell you to your face that you are being a jerk, maybe punch you for it, and move on as friends. Girls, not so much. There has only been one instance that I almost punched a girl. I don't know why she hated me so much, but she acted like a friend until I found out the things she had done behind my back.
In high school I mentioned to having three boyfriends. It turned out that one of them was fake. No, I did not imagine him, make him up, or be mistaken about him being my boyfriend. Okay, the last one is true. You see, that girl I mentioned apparently did not trust her boyfriend and thought he was going to leave her to go out with me. I would somehow go along with this? She enlisted a friend of hers from another school, who she knew that I liked, to ask me out and date me until she was secure with her boyfriend again. Then he broke up with me. I don't think any of the people involved in that mess ended up together. If she had talked to me directly she would have discovered that I never liked her boyfriend in the first place so all that deceit was for nothing.
Unfortunately, this same girl took it upon herself to be my publicity committee when she found out, from the father, that I was pregnant. Needless to say she conveniently did so well before I was ready to tell anyone. Thank goodness I had a few good friends who told her where to go when she approached them. Sad thing is that many close friends were also lost because they didn't like hearing such news through the grapevine and felt betrayed by me not telling them myself. As time went by I was able to patch up things with these people but we were never as close as we were before hand. I never talked to that girl again.
It is funny how fast people mature at university. I suppose it has something to do with living on your own and having more responsibilities. I think many girls mature faster than boys (not all, but many). As I said, I dated more in university and really got to know what kind of guy I was looking for. In my freshman year guys seemed big on the pickup lines. My favourite was when this guy approached me in chemistry lab and commented that he had seen me on a magazine cover, hadn't he?
I worked at the campus pub for the last two years of school and got to know the groupers (see last post) from a long way off. I came in early before my shift one day to grab a bite and this guy I had seen around campus came and sat beside me. Started suspiciously chatting me up. Nice weather we are having, eh? Am I enjoying my classes? Am I finding my way around campus alright? Around campus? This last one took me back and I stopped for a second. "I would hope so since I have been here for three years." He took a quick look at me, got up and left. Just as I thought, a frosh chaser. One of those lovely guys who prey on the unknowing freshmen. Be a nice guy, show them around, no intentions, right? It is such a high school gag and so grouper.
FBM
While I do not believe my son is a player (or will ever be) he certainly knows how to attract the ladies, even at his young age. There are always those young adorable little boys that the young girls seem to flock to and adults find so cute. Sometimes these boys receive far too much attention and once they get a little older their egos seem to grow right along with them. I knew far too many of these boys when I was young. They all had friends too, none of which were very nice. One such boy actually thought it would be funny to feign interest in me and passed me a note one day asking me out. In the note he told me that I should call him that night at home so we could talk. This was in elementary school of course and due to the small class I understood that, even if any boy liked me, he would be committing social suicide to admit to it; especially on paper. I thought I'd be smart and call him to tell him off. I even told another girl what I planned to do. Alas, he was at a hockey game and found out I called, assuming I had fallen prey to his joke. The tormenting lasted what seemed like forever. When I looked for support from the one person who knew I was wise to them, she claimed I had said no such thing, clearly gaining more approval from her lie than popularity from the truth.
That is how girls can be though; conniving, and deceitful at times, as I found out over the years. Boys are better than girls in at least that one facet. Boys are straight up when they don't like you or are mad at you. A boy will tell you to your face that you are being a jerk, maybe punch you for it, and move on as friends. Girls, not so much. There has only been one instance that I almost punched a girl. I don't know why she hated me so much, but she acted like a friend until I found out the things she had done behind my back.
In high school I mentioned to having three boyfriends. It turned out that one of them was fake. No, I did not imagine him, make him up, or be mistaken about him being my boyfriend. Okay, the last one is true. You see, that girl I mentioned apparently did not trust her boyfriend and thought he was going to leave her to go out with me. I would somehow go along with this? She enlisted a friend of hers from another school, who she knew that I liked, to ask me out and date me until she was secure with her boyfriend again. Then he broke up with me. I don't think any of the people involved in that mess ended up together. If she had talked to me directly she would have discovered that I never liked her boyfriend in the first place so all that deceit was for nothing.
Unfortunately, this same girl took it upon herself to be my publicity committee when she found out, from the father, that I was pregnant. Needless to say she conveniently did so well before I was ready to tell anyone. Thank goodness I had a few good friends who told her where to go when she approached them. Sad thing is that many close friends were also lost because they didn't like hearing such news through the grapevine and felt betrayed by me not telling them myself. As time went by I was able to patch up things with these people but we were never as close as we were before hand. I never talked to that girl again.
It is funny how fast people mature at university. I suppose it has something to do with living on your own and having more responsibilities. I think many girls mature faster than boys (not all, but many). As I said, I dated more in university and really got to know what kind of guy I was looking for. In my freshman year guys seemed big on the pickup lines. My favourite was when this guy approached me in chemistry lab and commented that he had seen me on a magazine cover, hadn't he?
I worked at the campus pub for the last two years of school and got to know the groupers (see last post) from a long way off. I came in early before my shift one day to grab a bite and this guy I had seen around campus came and sat beside me. Started suspiciously chatting me up. Nice weather we are having, eh? Am I enjoying my classes? Am I finding my way around campus alright? Around campus? This last one took me back and I stopped for a second. "I would hope so since I have been here for three years." He took a quick look at me, got up and left. Just as I thought, a frosh chaser. One of those lovely guys who prey on the unknowing freshmen. Be a nice guy, show them around, no intentions, right? It is such a high school gag and so grouper.
FBM
POF or Just a Whole Lot of Grouper?
Before you meet my son, I think I'll take a break from the mommy talk and write about something different.
This morning I came to find out that my husband of a year and a half was still on Plenty of Fish. I was shocked to say the least and quipped "When you told me I was your prettiest wife I thought you were trying to make me feel better about a bad hair day, not make a confession!".
Truth is we both laughed, though he does often tell me I am his smartest wife, or his prettiest wife, or some other similar compliment. (I usually just tell him I feel bad for his other wives then.) The discovery made me think about past relationships though. Between my siblings, in-laws and my husband I often feel like a bit of a tart, to put it kindly, in comparison. My brother and sister both married the second person they ever dated. My in-law siblings are of the opinion that you don't even hold hands until you think the relationship is long term (a sentiment I find very endearing in the best sense of the word). Even my husband says I am only his second girlfriend, which is why we talk little of our past relationships.
When it comes to my romantic history there is a bit more to tell and a few interesting stories with that. I asked my husband once if he was ever curious about my previous beaus and he said he was satisfied simply that I chose him in the end; with heart felt statements like that I wonder why. Well, while I wont go into gory details, my husband will surely hear some new stories should he read this.
I had my first boyfriend in grade nine at the age of fourteen. While there were some teens already sexually active at that point, I was still at the stage of giggling and passing notes. He didn't attend my school and in fact non of the boys I dated in high school did. The fact is that I was pretty much a social outcast in elementary school; rarely invited to girls parties and made fun of by the boys. With a class size was no larger than twenty kids that makes you an outcast and prey to many mean jokes. Majority of these kids continued on to the same high school as me and, since the teens from other schools didn't know me, the segregation continued when it came to the opposite sex. I only dated three boys in all of high school, ending of course with RD's father (a term I use rather loosely).
When I moved away to university things changed a little. I was in a new dating world, and a bigger pond if you will, where no one had any immature predetermined opinions about me. At the same time I was trying to find a guy who would contradict my predisposition that all men (let's face it...boys) were groupers. A grouper is a type of bottom dwelling fish. While the name is coincidentally similar to the word "groper", another distasteful member of the male species, I feel the grouper better defines the type of scheming guys I often encountered. By definition a grouper is "typically having a stout body and a large mouth (and) are not built for long-distance... swimming...They swallow prey rather than biting pieces off it. They do not have many teeth on the edges of their jaws, but they have heavy crushing tooth plates inside the pharynx... They lie in wait, rather than chasing in open water...their mouth and gills form a powerful sucking system that sucks their prey in from a distance..." Sound familiar to any of you ladies?
I don't know how many guys "sucked me in" and led me to believe they were either of good intentions, or at the very least interested in more than just a physical relationship. Few made it past the "oh, by the way I have a child" test. One of my good guy friends (one of those good ones that just didn't "like me that way") asked me why I told them up front about RD and claimed I was trying to scare them off. I told him that if they were really interested in me it wouldn't scare them off and that I would rather be upfront than waste my time. I went out on a few dates, often resulting in the guy thinking he was owed something by the end of the evening; funny what they think a couple drinks is worth. I had my share of the more sustaining relationships, but those all followed the same pattern; loving and devoted, comfortable and optimistic, takes you for granted but still optimistic, MIA.
Going to have put a "to be continued" right there. Little one is up and we are off to the pool today.
Maybe later I can post some dating anecdotes.
Talk at you later!
FBM
This morning I came to find out that my husband of a year and a half was still on Plenty of Fish. I was shocked to say the least and quipped "When you told me I was your prettiest wife I thought you were trying to make me feel better about a bad hair day, not make a confession!".
Truth is we both laughed, though he does often tell me I am his smartest wife, or his prettiest wife, or some other similar compliment. (I usually just tell him I feel bad for his other wives then.) The discovery made me think about past relationships though. Between my siblings, in-laws and my husband I often feel like a bit of a tart, to put it kindly, in comparison. My brother and sister both married the second person they ever dated. My in-law siblings are of the opinion that you don't even hold hands until you think the relationship is long term (a sentiment I find very endearing in the best sense of the word). Even my husband says I am only his second girlfriend, which is why we talk little of our past relationships.
When it comes to my romantic history there is a bit more to tell and a few interesting stories with that. I asked my husband once if he was ever curious about my previous beaus and he said he was satisfied simply that I chose him in the end; with heart felt statements like that I wonder why. Well, while I wont go into gory details, my husband will surely hear some new stories should he read this.
I had my first boyfriend in grade nine at the age of fourteen. While there were some teens already sexually active at that point, I was still at the stage of giggling and passing notes. He didn't attend my school and in fact non of the boys I dated in high school did. The fact is that I was pretty much a social outcast in elementary school; rarely invited to girls parties and made fun of by the boys. With a class size was no larger than twenty kids that makes you an outcast and prey to many mean jokes. Majority of these kids continued on to the same high school as me and, since the teens from other schools didn't know me, the segregation continued when it came to the opposite sex. I only dated three boys in all of high school, ending of course with RD's father (a term I use rather loosely).
When I moved away to university things changed a little. I was in a new dating world, and a bigger pond if you will, where no one had any immature predetermined opinions about me. At the same time I was trying to find a guy who would contradict my predisposition that all men (let's face it...boys) were groupers. A grouper is a type of bottom dwelling fish. While the name is coincidentally similar to the word "groper", another distasteful member of the male species, I feel the grouper better defines the type of scheming guys I often encountered. By definition a grouper is "typically having a stout body and a large mouth (and) are not built for long-distance... swimming...They swallow prey rather than biting pieces off it. They do not have many teeth on the edges of their jaws, but they have heavy crushing tooth plates inside the pharynx... They lie in wait, rather than chasing in open water...their mouth and gills form a powerful sucking system that sucks their prey in from a distance..." Sound familiar to any of you ladies?
I don't know how many guys "sucked me in" and led me to believe they were either of good intentions, or at the very least interested in more than just a physical relationship. Few made it past the "oh, by the way I have a child" test. One of my good guy friends (one of those good ones that just didn't "like me that way") asked me why I told them up front about RD and claimed I was trying to scare them off. I told him that if they were really interested in me it wouldn't scare them off and that I would rather be upfront than waste my time. I went out on a few dates, often resulting in the guy thinking he was owed something by the end of the evening; funny what they think a couple drinks is worth. I had my share of the more sustaining relationships, but those all followed the same pattern; loving and devoted, comfortable and optimistic, takes you for granted but still optimistic, MIA.
Going to have put a "to be continued" right there. Little one is up and we are off to the pool today.
Maybe later I can post some dating anecdotes.
Talk at you later!
FBM
Tuesday 14 February 2012
In April of 2002 I graduated from university with a BA in English. I know, you were wondering why the reading list on the left was so heavily weighted in the Victorian Genre. It's true, not everyone will read that much Dicken's voluntarily but I do happen to enjoy his novels. Truth be told that reading list would be much longer if I didn't end up reading books like Jane Eyre four or five times. (tangent over)
By May I had taken what I believed to be a temporary job as a secretary and was saving for RD and I to get a place of our own. Within the year, however, there were several other semi-adults living under the same roof and we had to move out. It was difficult with RD starting school, paying the bills and working long hours to make up for all the lost time. I did the best I could in the most economical ways possible.
After a year in an apartment the logical side of me was getting tired of paying someone elses mortgage. I crunched the numbers and determined that if I bought a house where I worked I could just scrape by. (Also, if anything happened to my car and I couldn't afford to get it fixed I could still walk to work.) Soon I was the non-sterotypical single mom; own car, own home and a full time job. There is no way I could have done any of it had I not learned how to scrimp and save from my mom. She raised a large family on my father's meager income (I am told less than $40 grand a year at it's height).
I kept a very strict budget and watched it constantly. In some ways my obsessive tendencies paid off in this area. Any utility that had an equal payment plan I got on it and watched to ensure we kept the running total in check. I took advantage of government incentive programs and made our tiny bungalow house as efficient as possible, knowing that anything paid out for improvements would be won back ten fold in savings. I had purchased a small chest freezer and took advantage of bulk sized food purchases. Like my mother, I simply separated items into meal sized quantities and froze them to avoid spoiling and waste. I stayed at work and ate leftovers for lunches. Attempted some inventive reciepes and anything RD didn't like became my meals for the week. Clothing was purchased mostly at a local Good Will, with a few new items purchased at Christmas only. I conserved energy by simple things like opening curtains on a sunny winter day allowing the house to warm up while at work. I actually was able to warm the house two degrees higher then the thermostat preventing the furnace from kicking in until after dinner time that night. Of course the reverse was used in the summer, which was a God send considering we did not have an airconditioner. I also had a programmable thermostat installed so that I could ensure the furnace was not running needlessly with no one in the house.
Our yard was not off limits to my conservative agenda. Luckily the previous owners of our home had planted perennial gardens around the yard so there was no need to purchase flowers annually. I installed a rain barrel which we used to water the gardens as needed in the summer. We also used this water to wash the car. In the winter it was the good old hand shovel to clear the drive way. I was blessed, however, to have some very kind naighbours who would snow blow the driveway if I started to loose the battle. Many days I thanked God when I arrived home to a plowed driveway. RD and I got in the habit of making cookies and home made chocolates every Christmas and taking little packages to our naighbours as tokens of gratitude for such favours.
Vacations, when possible, consisted of camping only. Provincial campground, no electrical sites were the cheapest. Once the basic tent and sleeping gear was purchased there were no further expenses than if we were at home. Any local festivals, free movie nights, double up coupons for local restaurants, and near by trails and beaches encompassed our activity schedule year round. I think these things made our free time together more enjoyable and memorable. I was never concerned about what it was costing us but more so if she was having fun. Even now RD still asks to go camping and likes to bring her friends along to experience it as well.
Clearly RD endured a lot and went without a lot, but she was still young enough to only fuss a little. The temporary job turned into a five year employment. I was asked to take on the accounting side of the business, something I think I have an aptitude for, even if my education does not support it. At the end of the five years it was a difference of ethical opinion that made me leave the company. After a couple of hits and misses on the job front I was fortunate enough to obtain a wonderful job again in the accounting field. Turned out to be a significant chain of events in my life as within a year of joining the company I became friends with, dated and got engaged to a fellow employee. Just goes to show, in the words of Marylin, "Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."
RD is much better off now and perhaps my husband and I spoil her a bit given what she went without for so long. Even so, we are still super conservative about certain things. We have plans for future trips with the family as a whole, but also for RD as she completes school. We keep such goals in mind whenever we joke about needlessly renovating the house or buying a new car. I only hope that RD will remember the more frugal times a little when she finally is out on her own. Perhaps that will help her keep her future goals, rather than immediate gratification, a financial priority and focus more on the experiences than expenses.
FBM
By May I had taken what I believed to be a temporary job as a secretary and was saving for RD and I to get a place of our own. Within the year, however, there were several other semi-adults living under the same roof and we had to move out. It was difficult with RD starting school, paying the bills and working long hours to make up for all the lost time. I did the best I could in the most economical ways possible.
After a year in an apartment the logical side of me was getting tired of paying someone elses mortgage. I crunched the numbers and determined that if I bought a house where I worked I could just scrape by. (Also, if anything happened to my car and I couldn't afford to get it fixed I could still walk to work.) Soon I was the non-sterotypical single mom; own car, own home and a full time job. There is no way I could have done any of it had I not learned how to scrimp and save from my mom. She raised a large family on my father's meager income (I am told less than $40 grand a year at it's height).
I kept a very strict budget and watched it constantly. In some ways my obsessive tendencies paid off in this area. Any utility that had an equal payment plan I got on it and watched to ensure we kept the running total in check. I took advantage of government incentive programs and made our tiny bungalow house as efficient as possible, knowing that anything paid out for improvements would be won back ten fold in savings. I had purchased a small chest freezer and took advantage of bulk sized food purchases. Like my mother, I simply separated items into meal sized quantities and froze them to avoid spoiling and waste. I stayed at work and ate leftovers for lunches. Attempted some inventive reciepes and anything RD didn't like became my meals for the week. Clothing was purchased mostly at a local Good Will, with a few new items purchased at Christmas only. I conserved energy by simple things like opening curtains on a sunny winter day allowing the house to warm up while at work. I actually was able to warm the house two degrees higher then the thermostat preventing the furnace from kicking in until after dinner time that night. Of course the reverse was used in the summer, which was a God send considering we did not have an airconditioner. I also had a programmable thermostat installed so that I could ensure the furnace was not running needlessly with no one in the house.
Our yard was not off limits to my conservative agenda. Luckily the previous owners of our home had planted perennial gardens around the yard so there was no need to purchase flowers annually. I installed a rain barrel which we used to water the gardens as needed in the summer. We also used this water to wash the car. In the winter it was the good old hand shovel to clear the drive way. I was blessed, however, to have some very kind naighbours who would snow blow the driveway if I started to loose the battle. Many days I thanked God when I arrived home to a plowed driveway. RD and I got in the habit of making cookies and home made chocolates every Christmas and taking little packages to our naighbours as tokens of gratitude for such favours.
Vacations, when possible, consisted of camping only. Provincial campground, no electrical sites were the cheapest. Once the basic tent and sleeping gear was purchased there were no further expenses than if we were at home. Any local festivals, free movie nights, double up coupons for local restaurants, and near by trails and beaches encompassed our activity schedule year round. I think these things made our free time together more enjoyable and memorable. I was never concerned about what it was costing us but more so if she was having fun. Even now RD still asks to go camping and likes to bring her friends along to experience it as well.
Clearly RD endured a lot and went without a lot, but she was still young enough to only fuss a little. The temporary job turned into a five year employment. I was asked to take on the accounting side of the business, something I think I have an aptitude for, even if my education does not support it. At the end of the five years it was a difference of ethical opinion that made me leave the company. After a couple of hits and misses on the job front I was fortunate enough to obtain a wonderful job again in the accounting field. Turned out to be a significant chain of events in my life as within a year of joining the company I became friends with, dated and got engaged to a fellow employee. Just goes to show, in the words of Marylin, "Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."
RD is much better off now and perhaps my husband and I spoil her a bit given what she went without for so long. Even so, we are still super conservative about certain things. We have plans for future trips with the family as a whole, but also for RD as she completes school. We keep such goals in mind whenever we joke about needlessly renovating the house or buying a new car. I only hope that RD will remember the more frugal times a little when she finally is out on her own. Perhaps that will help her keep her future goals, rather than immediate gratification, a financial priority and focus more on the experiences than expenses.
FBM
My first true love - RD
Okay, tomorrow came a little earlier than expected. I did mention I had a 6 month old so I am sure all you moms know why I've decided to write right now.
Where was I? Ah yes, my other not so little one. RD, my daughter. I thought it only fitting that on Valentine's Day I post about my first true love. May seem strange to some for me to call my daughter my first love but she most truly was. In many cases people do not really understand what love is until they hold their own child for the first time. It would be wonderful if I could say that was how it happened for me, but unfortunately her birth did not go as expected and I did not get to experience that life changing moment of holding your new baby seconds after birth. As can often happen, I was whisked off to surgery, but all is well in the end so no need to dwell on that point. In retrospect, I think I actually first loved her the very first time I felt her move in my belly. The first distinctive butterfly movement and I was hooked.
I knew I was having a baby girl from the start. Many women claim such a thing and it is hard to explain why, but I knew it from the first time someone asked me. I did love RD right away and always have, regardless of the many times I wished I had not been pregnant as a teen. When questioned my answer has always been the same; I always regret getting pregnant, but I never once regretted having her.
It was hard. Not as hard as it is for some as I had the support of my family, but it most certainly was never easy. I committed myself to finishing school and completing my degree, which meant holding down a job as well in order to pay for things. RD was born in September and I returned to school two weeks after and work just one week after that. Now that was a hard year! By RD's first birthday I had been back in the hospital due to complications, lost my Grandpa to cancer, dealt with a terrible personal relationship, completed my OACs and moved away to university. This does not, of course, include all the wonderful nuances of the high school life coloured with the brush of social interpretation of my situation. The hi-light of the year was that, given RD stayed at home with my parents when I went to school, I missed my baby girl's first birthday.
Over the next five years I missed a lot. My parents did their best to make me feel like I was around for the important things. They even brought RD to see me at school often and she just happen to have her first steps in my dorm room, something I pretended to believe partly for them but mostly for my own sanity. No matter how you look at it though, RD was growing up with or without me. I would love to say I remember a lot about her as a child but really what I recall is mostly bits and pieces strung together by pictures and stories told by my parents. When I finally graduated I like to think that I did my best to change that.
I am going to stop there for now, as I think the littler one has decided to sleep so I should do the same. Chances are I will continue these thoughts a little later today, as time allows.
Until then,
FBM
Where was I? Ah yes, my other not so little one. RD, my daughter. I thought it only fitting that on Valentine's Day I post about my first true love. May seem strange to some for me to call my daughter my first love but she most truly was. In many cases people do not really understand what love is until they hold their own child for the first time. It would be wonderful if I could say that was how it happened for me, but unfortunately her birth did not go as expected and I did not get to experience that life changing moment of holding your new baby seconds after birth. As can often happen, I was whisked off to surgery, but all is well in the end so no need to dwell on that point. In retrospect, I think I actually first loved her the very first time I felt her move in my belly. The first distinctive butterfly movement and I was hooked.
I knew I was having a baby girl from the start. Many women claim such a thing and it is hard to explain why, but I knew it from the first time someone asked me. I did love RD right away and always have, regardless of the many times I wished I had not been pregnant as a teen. When questioned my answer has always been the same; I always regret getting pregnant, but I never once regretted having her.
It was hard. Not as hard as it is for some as I had the support of my family, but it most certainly was never easy. I committed myself to finishing school and completing my degree, which meant holding down a job as well in order to pay for things. RD was born in September and I returned to school two weeks after and work just one week after that. Now that was a hard year! By RD's first birthday I had been back in the hospital due to complications, lost my Grandpa to cancer, dealt with a terrible personal relationship, completed my OACs and moved away to university. This does not, of course, include all the wonderful nuances of the high school life coloured with the brush of social interpretation of my situation. The hi-light of the year was that, given RD stayed at home with my parents when I went to school, I missed my baby girl's first birthday.
Over the next five years I missed a lot. My parents did their best to make me feel like I was around for the important things. They even brought RD to see me at school often and she just happen to have her first steps in my dorm room, something I pretended to believe partly for them but mostly for my own sanity. No matter how you look at it though, RD was growing up with or without me. I would love to say I remember a lot about her as a child but really what I recall is mostly bits and pieces strung together by pictures and stories told by my parents. When I finally graduated I like to think that I did my best to change that.
I am going to stop there for now, as I think the littler one has decided to sleep so I should do the same. Chances are I will continue these thoughts a little later today, as time allows.
Until then,
FBM
Monday 13 February 2012
Day 2 of my blog and I am still trying to sort out the formatting. I think it is the attempt at defining yourself with a web space that I find daunting. What does that font say about me? What about the layout and background? I have a feeling it will change with time.
One addition I am happy with is the picture of Marylin I found. Though I cannot say I know all there is to know about the elusive Miss Munroe, what I know to date I like and aspire to emulate in my own way. While I may never be as overtly sexual as her I love that she was comfortable in her own skin, which I am working on. I also like that there was so much more to her then the famous picture of her standing over a subway grate. For those, and many other reasons, I chose the photo to the left of Marylin reading. I find the untraditional photos of her much more becoming.
Enough about Marylin (for now); a little more on my intentions with this space. Aside from my not so deep thoughts and wonderments I hope to pass on what little I may learn, or have learned, as a mom and hopefully help someone else or at least let you know you are not alone.
I am currently a mother of 2; a 15 year old girl and a 6 month old boy. Yes, that is a 15 year gap. I had my daughter at the young age of 17, the circumstances of which I am not quiet ready to discuss. (Come now, we just met). I married my husband in 2010 and we had our first child in August of 2011. With just the two children I have already had a wide range of experiences. First, single teenage mom completing university and living on her own with her youngster. Now, the married women with a teenage daughter and a new born baby boy. So much to share on this two points alone I don't know when I will ever get to anything else!
I think tomorrow I will start with my daughter. Hopefully, at some point, I will no longer be writing to myself and someone out there will find this story useful, or comforting, or perhaps just interesting enough to post a comment or a question. We shall see.
Until tomorrow when you will meet RD.
FBM
ps I find it hilarious that the spell check on the blog thinks the word "blog" is spelt incorrectly. I am sure I have enough spelling and grammer errors without giving me fake ones.
One addition I am happy with is the picture of Marylin I found. Though I cannot say I know all there is to know about the elusive Miss Munroe, what I know to date I like and aspire to emulate in my own way. While I may never be as overtly sexual as her I love that she was comfortable in her own skin, which I am working on. I also like that there was so much more to her then the famous picture of her standing over a subway grate. For those, and many other reasons, I chose the photo to the left of Marylin reading. I find the untraditional photos of her much more becoming.
Enough about Marylin (for now); a little more on my intentions with this space. Aside from my not so deep thoughts and wonderments I hope to pass on what little I may learn, or have learned, as a mom and hopefully help someone else or at least let you know you are not alone.
I am currently a mother of 2; a 15 year old girl and a 6 month old boy. Yes, that is a 15 year gap. I had my daughter at the young age of 17, the circumstances of which I am not quiet ready to discuss. (Come now, we just met). I married my husband in 2010 and we had our first child in August of 2011. With just the two children I have already had a wide range of experiences. First, single teenage mom completing university and living on her own with her youngster. Now, the married women with a teenage daughter and a new born baby boy. So much to share on this two points alone I don't know when I will ever get to anything else!
I think tomorrow I will start with my daughter. Hopefully, at some point, I will no longer be writing to myself and someone out there will find this story useful, or comforting, or perhaps just interesting enough to post a comment or a question. We shall see.
Until tomorrow when you will meet RD.
FBM
ps I find it hilarious that the spell check on the blog thinks the word "blog" is spelt incorrectly. I am sure I have enough spelling and grammer errors without giving me fake ones.
Sunday 12 February 2012
Greetings Readers!
You are embarking on the first post of the first blog I have ever written in my life. My appologies. If I am not simply writting to myself then I thank-you for believing my meger thoughts to be worth your time.
I will begin by introducing myself, who the FBM is and explaining why I started this blog at all. Firstly, I am presently a mother foremost, but the other parts of me compelled me to write this. You see, once upon a long time ago I was a student of literature, a younger single self and looking forward I would like to retain some of who I think I am.
That brings me to the FBM. Fuzzy Book Monkey is an alias I picked up a long time ago and have never really put down. Even at a younger age I thought myself to be kind, loving, warm hearted and snuggly. My husband and children have told me that I still posses these wonderful attributes and thus the Fuzzy lives on.
The Book part of my character is one that was too, always there, but in early years in an unrealized form. As a child I loved the library and could spend hours there. In school I always had an aptitude for what is generally known as the English Class. It was not, however, until I crashed and burned at university in the feild of science that I realized I not only enjoyed and excelled at reading and analysis but I loved books too (please see blog list entitled Fuzzy Readings and feel free to suggest additions). More on this journey in later posts I am sure.
Finally, I like to think that I have a somewhat quirky side to me that only some people see and perhaps few even come to enjoy. I am admittedly a little OCD, which counteracts my fun loving carefree side at times. It may be that the two simply keep each other in check, but I certainly have some moments. I forgot about the Monkey side of me a little until I recently had my second child, an experience which brings out the monkey in many women I supose. I simply glad it is still hanging around.
So here I am, FBM (I really hope there is no bad text term this stands for), writting my thoughts and other things down for you to read. Perhaps this will only be for me to write, which is fine, but I hope that someone might join me on this textual journey. (At least my husband will get a break now and then from my prattling.)
Until next time,
FBM
You are embarking on the first post of the first blog I have ever written in my life. My appologies. If I am not simply writting to myself then I thank-you for believing my meger thoughts to be worth your time.
I will begin by introducing myself, who the FBM is and explaining why I started this blog at all. Firstly, I am presently a mother foremost, but the other parts of me compelled me to write this. You see, once upon a long time ago I was a student of literature, a younger single self and looking forward I would like to retain some of who I think I am.
That brings me to the FBM. Fuzzy Book Monkey is an alias I picked up a long time ago and have never really put down. Even at a younger age I thought myself to be kind, loving, warm hearted and snuggly. My husband and children have told me that I still posses these wonderful attributes and thus the Fuzzy lives on.
The Book part of my character is one that was too, always there, but in early years in an unrealized form. As a child I loved the library and could spend hours there. In school I always had an aptitude for what is generally known as the English Class. It was not, however, until I crashed and burned at university in the feild of science that I realized I not only enjoyed and excelled at reading and analysis but I loved books too (please see blog list entitled Fuzzy Readings and feel free to suggest additions). More on this journey in later posts I am sure.
Finally, I like to think that I have a somewhat quirky side to me that only some people see and perhaps few even come to enjoy. I am admittedly a little OCD, which counteracts my fun loving carefree side at times. It may be that the two simply keep each other in check, but I certainly have some moments. I forgot about the Monkey side of me a little until I recently had my second child, an experience which brings out the monkey in many women I supose. I simply glad it is still hanging around.
So here I am, FBM (I really hope there is no bad text term this stands for), writting my thoughts and other things down for you to read. Perhaps this will only be for me to write, which is fine, but I hope that someone might join me on this textual journey. (At least my husband will get a break now and then from my prattling.)
Until next time,
FBM
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