Firsts August 30, 2008

Darwin is getting really close to walking.  Just the other day I saw him take his first step — that sort of controlled falling sort of thing, just before he caught himself on something.  I’m sure the metaphors in there have been duly covered by many other people, so I’ll let them slide.  Maybe it’s because it wasn’t 2 steps, or something, but I wasn’t this momentous experience that I thought it would be.  It was more like “Oh crap — he’s going to fall” and then it was over.  He’s getting so close, though, and I think that when those first – multiple-steps happen, it will be pretty amazing.  Just the fact that I’m watching him learn it has already changed how I look at things.  When I go down stairs, I realize what a delicate balancing act it is.  When I stand on one foot, on my tippytoes, to reach the peanut butter, I am much more aware of how many muscles go into that.  And I don’t feel nearly so bad about my abysmal snowbaording ability.

Another, less exciting first is that Darwin is sick for the first time.  It was bound to happen, especially since I was miserably sick recently, and he’s just started daycare.  But it’s still hard.  He has a fever, and is so congested he snarfles through his mouth.  I am so lucky to have a husband who has the ability and the inclination to take time off work to care for Darwin, and in-laws that can do the same.  I wasn’t able to take off Wednesday or Thursday, because of a big program coming up.  So, Joe stayed home Wednesday, and Joe’s dad took care of Darwin Thursday.  Friday, I stayed home, but I sure felt guilty that I wasn’t there those other days.  It’s so hard to feel as though you have to choose between being a good employee and being a good mother (and feeling like you’re just bad at both).  I really don’t know how single mothers — or just mothers with husbands less supportive, more entrenched in traditional gender roles — do it.  I would go crazy.  I am so lucky that Joe not only takes care of Darwin when he’s sick, but does so happily.  Offers to.  Tells me not to worry, and that I’m a good mom.  He created a Google document to share with me, so that I could see a blow by blow of what Darwin ate, what is temperature was, and when his first smile of the day happened.  That way, I could concentrate on the dysfunctional family of work, rather than the altogether more functional real family of mine.  But it was still really hard.  When I first went back to work, being a mom helped put things in perspective, so I didn’t sweat the small stuff.  Everyone else would be stressed out because the caterer arrived late or something, and I’d just feel like “at least Darwin is fine.  That’s the important thing.”  More and more, however, being a mom is just serving to make the bad things about work worse.  Sitting in a long, boring meeting?  I could be at home tending my sick child.  Just got something dumped on me that is suddenly important to the boss?  Its not that important to me, because I’m checkin my Google document to see what Darwin’s temperature is.  Anytime I’m unhappy at work, I just start thinking “I’m giving up being with Darwin for THIS?”  But at the same time, the thought of being at home all the time (especially at Casa Kim in the ‘burbs) doesn’t make me all that excited either.  I guess the grass is always greener, actually.  I just feel so lucky that I am able to make a choice, and that Joe is so supportive.

So, I suppose that Joe deserves his golf weekend with the boys this weekend.  And anyway, Darwin and I are going to Wrigley to see the Cubs, so we will definitely take care of ourselves!  Photos of the first Cubs game forthcoming!

Half empty August 23, 2008

I’m having a hard day today, for some reason. It’s Friday. I had a short week. I just got back from an awesome vacation. I should be happy and excited to drink a beer on the train home. But I’m just having one of those days where I can’t be optimistic about things. I want to trade lives with just about everyone I see on the street (except the homeless guys and the people hitting you up to join Greenpeace). I look at condo buildings and wonder if I could just move in somewhere, change my name, and start a whole new life. I have been trying to cheer myself up, but the mental conversation seems to go like this:

“You should be happy. It’s Friday!”
“But all my friends are going to hang out tonight, and I’m going home and going to bed because I can’t find childcare and can’t stay up past 9:30″

“You should be happy. You don’t have anything to do this weekend. You can rest.”
“But I don’t have anything to do this weekend, when I could be at a pig roast or a Cubs game or a BBQ.”

“You should be happy. The bosses are all offsite at an all day strategic planning retreat.”
“But I’ll just have more to do Monday after they plan a new crazy direction for the museum.”

“You should be happy.  You get to spend all weekend with Darwin, after you missed him so much while you were gone.”
“But my pumped milk this morning was pink from a bloody nipple.”

“You should be happy. You got laid twice this week.”
“But I would rather have been sleeping.”

“You should be happy. Your haircut is finally growing out right.”
“But I have a pimple in my ear.”

Once you get to the pimple in your ear argument, there’s really no cheering you up.

I’m hoping that a good night’s sleep and a little R&R over the weekend with baby smiles and kitty purrs will perk me up. And sleeping in until the decadent hour of 6am. Look out world!

South of the Border August 20, 2008

I have returned from Canada.  It was such a wonderful trip, with great plays (from The Music Man to Hamlet), and great company.  All the other women who went were either childless, or the mothers of other women on the trip, so they hadn’t been new moms for 30-40 years, so there was no talking about babies really at all — which was both the hardest part of the trip and the most wonderful part.  It was really hard because I missed Darwin so much, and felt like I couldn’t go around whining about it to The Staunchly Childless, but at the same time, it was really good for me to talk about things that all the rest of the world talks about, and to realize that I can still hold a conversation about something besides poop consistency.  It was a true vacation.  Despite the fact that there was a bat in a bedroom of our B&B (what lovely alliteration), and that one of our party got stuck in the shower.  There was the in-ground pool, the beautiful flowers, the not driving anywhere for days, the pretending to bite Brian Dennehey’s ass, and the french fry wagon.  And the psychic fair, where I had both my auras AND my chakras photographed.  Both leave something to be desired, apparently.

And, of course, the best part of the vacation was coming home.  Darwin did great while I was gone (which was both a relief and a bit of an insult — you mean he doesn’t NEED me constantly????), and in the morning when I got him up, he just kind of looked at me with a smile, like “Hi.  You’re back.  Duh.  Now feed me.”  Joe had gotten up early, even, to see what Darwin’s reaction would be, and was underwhelmed.  But those baby hugs sure were nice.  I was also very proud of the fact that there was enough breastmilk stored up that no formula as used.  If there hadn’t been, and all those pumping bloody nipples had been for naught, I would have been a sad girl, indeed.

I’m so glad I went on a trip like this, and did it now.  It seems like it just gets harder and harder to go on a trip without your child the longer you wait.  So, proving that Darwin really will be just fine without me, while a bit hard on the ego, is ultimately very freeing.  It makes me feel good about Darwin, and about me — and about Joe, that he’s such a great dad.

The cats, however, are a different story.  They are super clingy now that I’m back.  It’s nice to feel needed by SOMEONE.

Siren Song August 13, 2008

Last Friday, Joe insisted that he drive home from the train station, and proceeded to take us on a “little detour.”  The detour took us past three houses for sale in Hinsdale that he claims we could afford if we used the money our house is worth, plus what we’d spend on renovation.  OK, a) NOW is really not the time to be investigating this, and b) The suburbs?  And not just any suburb, but Hinsdale?  We may be able to afford the house, but we wouldn’t be able to afford to keep Darwin in all his Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister clothing.  Joe is worried about all the things that people worry about– schools, gangs, parking, a yard — that lead them to the suburbs.  I see the appeal.  But honestly, commuting is for the birds.  And we know enough people who have raised perfectly happy, healthy, good, smart kids in Chicago Public Schools.  It can be done.  It goes back to the same thing I tell myself about being a working mom — that my job is to teach Darwin many things.  It’s not just to teach him how to count, or how to read, but it’s also to teach him what happy, well-rounded people look like, and how much diversity there is in the world.  For me, living in the city makes that easier.  I told Joe in all honesty that I could be happy anywhere, but I’d be happiER in the city.  I think he’s just going through his fear of commitment, where when the rubber hits the road, he suddenly realizes there are so many other options, and suddenly they all look so GOOD.  Makes you wonder what he thought on the night before our wedding.  But I know I’ll never ask.

On an aside, I am just getting over a horrible cold, which made Joe very excited, because he could use me as his guinea pig.  He heard on the radio about some kind of saline solution that opera singers and chronic sinus sufferers use, and they pour it from one nostril to the other in a little mini teapot.  So, of course as soon as I got stuffy, there was Joe with the teapot.  They sell these kits in Walgreen, complete with little plastic teapot.  I guess it helped, but not really enough to balance out how silly you feel standing over the bathroom sink with a teapot sticking out of your nostril.

Off to Canada in a mere 48 hours!  It will be touch to leave little D for so long, but it will be great at the same time.  Of course, it means lugging everything from the Hinsdale train station to Union Station, through town to Millennium Station, and to the 59th Street station.  Did I say I understood the appeal of the suburbs?  I take it back!

Renovation! August 2, 2008

Ha! You thought I forgot, didn’t you? It really will happen. We have the approved plans from the architect, and things are set to start in mid-august. In preparation, so we don’t drag our feet, Joe and I are moving in with his folks this weekend. IF anything will make sure we keep to the timeline, it’s living at Casa Kim.

It will definitely be a challenge for everyone when we live with them. I have been really stressed out about it this week, and trying to prepare myself. What I’m most upset about is leaving Darwin at daycare for almost 11 hours a day. Right now, I get at least an hour with him in the morning, which is really nice, and we hang out. It’s a nice, leisurely, I-am-a-good-mom start to the morning. Now, however, we have to catch the 7:02 train, so we’ll whisk Darwin out of bed, change him, feed him some and barrel to daycare to drop him off by 6:30. I’ll really miss that time in the morning.

I talked to Joe about it the other night, and laid out all my worries. Unfortunately, instead of making me feel better, I just ended up making him feel worse. Oops. He has this weird idea of fatherhood — I told him that he’s a great dad, and he said “If I were really a great dad, you could stay at home.” He would rather, he told me, have a job that takes him away from home for weeks, if he made enough money for me to stay at home with Darwin, than a job where he makes less and is at home every night.

There are many ridiculous things about this. First and foremost, it isn’t like we’re destitute or something. We live in the city, in a neighborhood where we feel safe, where we can walk to parks or god Indian food in any direction, we have a reliable car, a well-stocked fridge (with organic foods), and we’re renovating the house. That seems like a pretty good life to me. And, as I told Joe, our responsibility isn’t just to teach Darwin vocabulary and how to drink from a sippy cup — it’s also to be role models of happy well-rounded people. And if working is what makes us that, then we should do it. And, really, if staying at home were really a priority, we’d make it happen. Having the nanny, I figured out, basically canceled out my paycheck, so we could do it if we really felt we needed to. Joe just has this very strange, outdated vision of what a “dad” is supposed to be. I think because his dad worked such long hours, and Joe always knew that his dad was doing it for the family, and saw it as a sacrifice. Personally, I’d rather have Joe around to change a few diapers.

But, I digress. At any rate, we’re moving to the ‘burbs, for probably 6 months or so. I dropped off Darwin for a few hours at the daycare yesterday, and he did great, which makes me feel much better. And we got to hang out with Julie and the kids afterwards, which was a great restorative.

Keep your fingers crossed for us.