Sad Days

We just arrived back from a week in NYC due to a death in the family. Husband’s aunt died. It was not unexpected, but it was still sad. Despite our melancholy basis of the trip, it would be a lie to say it wasn’t also really nice. In this case, spending time with family in the wake of his aunt’s passing was special—people seemed more open, more giving, less afraid of emotion, more real. I think this outpouring of good will is due in large part to who she was, and also that she was no longer suffering. Also, all accounts suggest that Q was quite the nice leveler in a time of pain. It’s hard to cry when a 5 month old is grinning ear to ear at you.

No one knew we were in town since we came so spur of the moment, and it wasn’t a social visit. That helped to alleviate the hustle, and ironically, this trip was almost relaxing. Especially given that if Q was awake, usually someone else (read: grandparent) was holding him. I actually got a break.

However, what you must really be wondering is, were we in NY on the record breaking coldest day in years??? Why yes. Thank you for asking. We were (this is where I nod in self-congratulatory way for getting through a harrowing experience. My eyes are closed and I have a very earnest look on my face). How did we handle such weather you want to know? We were totally unprepared. It was horrible. I screamed when the air hit my face. But we managed to get through it somehow (commence nodding).

Actually, “somehow” came in the form of a suggestion to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. My mother took young Q and me. I was willing to go only after hearing that there was an underground parking garage (who knew?). It was actually the perfect activity. There was lots of walking around with plenty to look at. No one told Quinn about museum manners, so he decided to comment on the art in the form of screeches, babbles and oohs and ahhs. He commented very loudly. He thought the art was okay, but the light fixtures were really something worth talking about. We had three hours to kill, so I even paid for the head set for my tour. But it was a bad one. I like it when they tell the dirty back-story on the artist and their lives (e.g. “Pollack was a terrible drunk and at the time of this painting was a shameless womanizer.” Or, “Van Gogh was certifiable when he painted this and cut off his ear the following week”). This headset just went on and on about the actual art. Bor-ring.

But it was still great. It seemed that everyone with a stroller in NYC decided the Met was a good way to escape the apartment on a freezing day because there were babies everywhere. I hadn’t been to the Met for years. When we entered the glass room that holds Temple of Dendur, it really felt…well sort of religious. It was beautiful.

Now we are home. The baby thinks he should wake up at 5am everyday and forego naps.

He Can (sort of) Sit Up

I am getting over my sensitivity, and I am posting a picture of my baby to prove it. Why I am totally over the issue of my previous post?? Because I got the love from the blogosphere! Thank you!

Quinn managed to balance like a tripod for a while today, imitating sitting up. A few minutes after I took this pic, he succumbed to gravity and was fully bent in half, cheek on blanket. He didn't seem too distressed, though. He must be a Yogi.

A Comment About The Comments

I am a little irritated and annoyed. I write prior sentence in the spirit of full-disclosure before I write a post I am feeling obligated to write -- addressing my feelings about the mean person in my comments section. I am irritated I even have to deal with this. But I do because the comment from Jada Sanders gave me a feeling that isn’t going away. Although, I guess I do have to give her credit for leaving her name because the last time I posted about going back to work, I received similarly mean comment from an anonymous reader.

I was warned that people’s feelings about working and not working could get pret-ty prickly. Apparently, I underestimated the issue. I truly don’t think working moms have all the answers. Being a parent is a tough job. I could defend my reasons for working, explain my clearly misconstrued posts and even point to research that shows how working is not harmful, even beneficial. But I have a feeling that Ms. Sanders’ mind is made up on this subject. The generation ahead of us fought for the right to work, and now our generation is grappling with the results—results I am happy exist. I will not apologize for working, or for having questions about how to approach the issue.

My question is, why are we so hard on each other? (That was a rhetorical question. I am not actually interested in any more negative feedback on my blog, or interested in any more comments from JS.) I guess that is where the sting comes from. I hate it when women are mean to other women---especially when the charge is that we’re not womanly enough. I thought we were on the same team, yet I find time and time again, women end up the worst aggressors to each other.

Of course, I read that comment and felt hurt instead of angry. I hated the negative tone about “headlines,” as if childcare providers are abusers rather than the wonderful caring people that so many of them are. It just made me feel icky all over. Then I realized that this mean person has seen pictures of my child, and I honestly felt that this blog---this source of support for stressful situations---is potentially a place I don’t feel comfortable posting anymore because it won’t feel fun/supportive/safe.

Yup, JS’ comment packed a punch for me. Funny how it works that saying/writing hurtful ideas do actually hurt people. I wonder if JS teachs her 3 kids about judging others. She sounds like she has all the answers, so there must be no glass house for her.

I don’t have the answers. I’m doing what feels right for me and my family. That doesn’t mean it was an easy decision.

This blog was born out of a time of stress after a time of profound grief and it has mostly been such a great support—especially through bedrest. I have kept it up since Q’s birth in large part because of the support you all have given me. I’m hoping that this JS is a fluke and I can continue to ramble on about my life and get happy comments.

Oh. I am SO ANNOYED! I just checked the blog and JS wrote another comment! I really don’t have the time to defend myself. I am feeling very misunderstood, and I am not going to get into it. Like I said, I am irritated to have to deal with this in the first place. But since JS has been a regular reader, I am requesting that she not comment on this blog anymore. I can tell this lady thinks she really is truly trying to offer support, but I am not interested in the variety.

A Wash

We did all the research. We conducted the interviews. We met Supernanny. We called her references. They raved. It's a done deal. I crunched the numbers (why not do this beforehand you ask? I have no idea. Some sort of denial mechanism, I think.) It appears that I am going to be paying Suppernanny for the pleasure of working. What I mean is, the income doesn't cover the nanny. Not entirely anyway. The day we hired her I aslo read a parents message board where neighborhood parents poo pooed nanny's and sung the praises of daycare. Socialization and all that. Daycare happens to be much cheaper--with daycare, I could possibly be bringing in some cash, like a dollar fifty an hour! Forget it. I am DONE. For the first 6 months of work while the baby is still an infant, we will pay the big bucks for supernanny. We do get our benefits from my job, what with the husband working for himself. And as I found, evidenced my my pregnancies, the healthcare counts as something pretty major. Still, I deluded myself into thinking that I would be contributing something more financially to our family and it is harder to justify going back when I see how expensive childcare is in this damn hippy town. Now I cling to the healthcare like it's a million dollars "if not for me...we'd have NO healthcare!" Imagine emphatic nodding as I say prior sentence. Reality, which I am firmly ignoring, tells me with a little effort we do have other possible options to resolve how to get benefits if I couldn't provide them. But I have to feel like working is good for something! Ah yes. Once again, knowing Supernanny is a total wash is an opportunity to figure out if I really want it. I still come out feeling like it's a good decision for now. It is 20 hours a week and while I don't necessarily feel like I need to go back now, I think I will want the option of working later. I encounter this nagging instinct that if I stop, it will be hard to ever go back, and I think I want to keep abreast of life in my career world enough to keep my hand in the pot. So, I am keeping up my 20 hours--banking them now for the future career woman I intend to be.

The funny thing is that when people used to come back to my job after having kids, freaking like me, I totally thought they were uptight and insane. Now I am them. Lucky me!

Happy New Year

Sorry to be so incredibly lame with my blogging. I have had a few posts in my head, but they have not made it to the computer. And when I did try, I had technical difficulties in getting some pics up. Even now I am having trouble. Here is an attempt, and a placeholder until I can put a real post online. This is Quinn performing his first snow angel in Lake Tahoe over New Years! It is his first snow angel....or maybe he has been placed imobile on a snow bank whilehis dad hovers over him with the camera. You decide.