Having It All

Remember those commercials, I think they were in the late eighties, involving scene’s of attractive people living fantastic lives—sailing, running, smiling at their families. A voiceover in a very assuring male voice asks, “Who says you can’t have it all?” I think they were for American Express or something.

So…here I am having it all. Last night’s scene: Me still in my work “flats” and cashmere sweater, hair all over the place and determined expression on my face as I leaned towards the tub, food covered naked baby in arms. Naked baby decided to pee all over the expensive sweater before making it to the water. The husband was working late. Who says you can’t have it all?

Actually, working is turning out to be mostly good. I work Mondays, Tuesdays and every other Wednesday. Approximately 20 hours a week. I work at a medical clinic as a pediatric social worker, and while I am there, no joke, I go hours without even thinking about the baby. A reality I never thought possible. I am engaged, busy and hopefully, helpful. I also think I am not there enough to really serve the families I meet. I know the docs would like more hours from me, this work schedule was a compromise on their part. During my workday I think—mostly when I am telling a family that I can’t be reached until nearly a week after our meeting---“I need to work more hours to do this job properly.”

But then while racing home to see my guy for his dinner, bath and bedtime, I begin the process of mentally leaving work and I start to wonder if he’ll adequately remember me after not seeing me since 8am. And on the three-day weeks, of which I’ve only had one; I am a mess by the time I get home to see that guy. It feels like too long!

Despite my guilt (and if you haven’t figured it out by now, it is a sensation I torture myself with. Just look at this post! Guilty at work and guilty at home) and mind numbing exhaustion (which I am still deluding myself is brought on by “adjusting to the new schedule”), overall the pros outweigh the cons. I won’t get into them all, but it is turning out that I am more satisfied person having both an out of home life and a home life than just one or other. Even if it does seem like they both get the shaft in some ways. Still, I firmly believe that modeling happiness for myself is good for the baby. Plus, I am more satisfied in general, which must translate to him. There are cons though. When will I have time to blog?

Her Life as a Dog

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I have a friend whose cat was the center of her life, more of a child than a child. That is, until she had an actual child. I remember asking after her first son was born about the cat, how’s the cat handling the baby and vice-versa. She responded, “Oh right! Turns out that the cat is a cat!”

Poor dog. The lab was similarly the love of our lives, and fulfilled her duties as “best friend” with aplomb during bedrest, and even those dark weeks after we lost the pregnancy. It was hard to cry when a long lab nose started nudging your face and licking the tears away. So I dedicate this post to her because I feel badly about how I have handled the unwelcome changes in her life these last 6 months. See, she is in her dog adolescence right now, and like any older sibling, she hasn’t appeared pleased about the bundle of joy. How has she showed her displeasure? Not by harming little Q in anyway. No, unless he can be hurt by dog kisses, which are plentiful, he is mostly fine (“mostly” because of the odd tail whack here and there). She shows her feelings by acting out. Oh yes. Apparently, child development applies to dogs and like children, any attention is better than no attention at all. Quinn will fall asleep (finally!) and suddenly, the lab needs to bark her head off at a passerby outside the window. When you hiss, “No! Quiet” she looks at you with ears up curiously as if to say, “You talking to me? You finally talking to me?” No need for her to remember that the passerby walked by earlier. At that time, she appeared not to notice passerby’s presence. She was also being rubbed and patted during that particular passerby walkby. Hmmm.....

She gets in the way during floor time since she wants to be part of the fun. She goes into the garbage if it is not totally out of reach. She pulls on her leash after not being walked for a few days (before the bundle she was walked every day). My interaction with her has turned into several incarnations of the word "no." Whether my "no" is finished with “barking” “pulling” “hanging around.” The dog has heard “no!” for 6 month’s straight.

When our friends were here last weekend, she got a lot of dog love. There were more hands, more hanging out, and more petting. And guess what? She was much better behaved! A few times I caught her sleeping contentedly when the 6 of us were together, her pack fantasy fulfilled. She always has been happiest with a group of people around.

How can I explain to her that things will be great for her in short order? The food alone will make her happy as Quinn progresses into toddlerhood. She has already figured out to hang under Quinn’s high chair while we experiment with rice cereal, squash and other yummy’s. She practically gets a second dinner when he eats his dinner (like a champ these days), and like any lab, she lives up to her breed’s stereotype regarding food. And Quinn has already started smiling and reaching for her. Now she just puts up with it, but soon she will understand that the way back into happiness is through the unwanted bundle. He’ll give her all the positive reinforcement she needs.

In the meantime, I am trying to give her more pats and love when she is being “good” and seeing if some positive attention balances her need to act out for any attention at all. Poor lab.

Workerbee and Quinn&Domingo

I am back in the workforce! It was so weird putting myself together for the first time in..ah...a YEAR (bedrest and 6 months maternity leave a year makes). I was waiting for the bus all business casual, lipstick, latte and everything. I was sizing up the other commuters wondering if they could tell it had been a while. Could they tell I had new shoes and a new purse? And did they notice, no, that is not a huge laptop, it is a breastpump? I am not really this narcissistic. I know that no one but me noticed my new shoes, er...or noticed me at all.

It was hard to be away from Quinn for so long, but it was also okay. And I enjoyed being that person who is needed in a professional setting for a skill set that I have put a lot of time and energy into learning.

We had a great weekend with Domi, Chris and Alice. Domi and Quinn seemed to manage their new friendship with panache. They stared at each other, they shared toys, they shared a bath and they culminated the weekend with a crying symphony. They harmonized side by side in their car seats, their parents helpless to comfort either of them until the carride ended 20 minutes later.

Seriously, it was a great visit and we are very impressed that Chris and Alice actually followed through with the hard-core dealing when visiting friends in another city. They were also wonderful to me while I totally freaked out at least once a day about going back to work yesterday. Good friends are good to have.