A is for Anxiety

A week ago last Saturday, I sat down for a bit after a party we hosted so we could see as many people as possible before we move. I hopped on to Twitter and saw a tweet from @moonfrye (aka Punky Brewster) and I didn’t even have to think about how to respond.

A little sentence to finish. "I'm feeling really..." loved.
We have had so many great visits with friends in the last few weeks. Maybe I’m in denial but I’m not thinking about moving away from all these people, I’m just feeling grateful to have so much love in my life.

I’m sure some of you are thinking, “Blah blah blah. She’s happy. She’s doing something bold. Whatever.” Well, hold on because I’m going to bring it back down to Earth again for a minute.

Elena based this week’s Be Enough Me prompt on that tweet from Soleil Moon Frye. And this week it’s not so easy for me to answer.

Friday was my last day of work and, despite what some people seem to think, I’m not freaking out about having walked away from my job. I’ve been leading up to this for a while and, though it hasn’t entirely hit me yet, I’m mostly just glad that I don’t have to be responsible for certain things anymore. But it turns out sitting at a desk for eight hours a day is a good distraction from other things.

I’ve written before about how I’m nervous about leaving my parents. But I’m not the only one feeling that way.

For my part, I’m acknowledging and anticipating my own angst (and hoping against hope that Connor doesn’t totally freak out when he realizes we can’t just pop up to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for a visit) while holding on to the faith that this is the right thing for us to do. A necessary thing, even. I can find that faith when I need it. I just can’t force that faith on my parents.

My mom is in the stomach-lurching, chin-wobbling phase of this process, the one that requires lots of deep breaths and some Kleenex. I know how she feels, because I read a post she wrote a couple of weeks ago about what our move means to her and had the same requirement for deep breaths and tissues. I’m worried about my dad too (for all sorts of reasons, actually) and he’s much less likely to say anything about how he feels about all this.

As for how I feel, well, I feel like I’m doing this to them. They’re talking about moving as well, which would make sense because my brother and one of my sisters live there too, but I don’t think they would necessarily choose that for themselves. It means moving out of a house they like and away from a mild climate to a frigidly cold Canadian winter. There’s a reason they moved here from there in the first place.

So my old friend anxiety has returned to watch this process unfold, bringing its sidekick insomnia with it just to make things extra fun. And I guess that’s how I’m feeling.

Pass the Kleenex.

grandparents with newborn grandchild

The first day

 

 Linking up with:

10 Days of Mama

It’s been 10 days. 11, I guess. Today is the 11th day.

He had the flu about a week and a half ago – 11 days ago, I guess – and we did all the usual things through a day or so with a sick little boy. I wore my Mama Who Has Been Barfed On badge again with pride and enjoyed the cuddles – warm and soft and in the normal range of worrisome. Which is to say not terribly.

Then the abdominal pain started and by 4 am a week ago Sunday we were in the ER. No parents want to learn their child’s appendix has burst the hard way.

The ER was quiet that morning. No one else in the pediatric area but us. Waybuloo is only slightly less weird at four in the morning; those Brits were definitely on something.

No appendectomy required. A bit dehydrated, even though he drinks Pedialyte like it’s juice, and home we went.

That was only the second in a series of sleepless nights.

Tonight will be the 11th night. We have pushed through a brief road trip (if a very long drive – there and back in six days – can be considered brief), a house purchase, and a few quick visits.

We are home, but he is not better. He has been, off and on. Enough that we felt it was okay to make the trip. Enough that he played in the snow on Friday. Enough that he went to school yesterday.

But he is not better, and the morning at school was apparently weepy with repeated requests for Mama. When Grandma and Grandpa picked him up, he went home with them and slept. For more than an hour. (Very unusual.) Daddy had to go and pick him up.

Mama came home, and the pieces of velcro connected again. We have been this way – attached – for 10 days. Or 11 now, I guess. He wants me and stays close, his soft hair tickling my chin and his small fingers rubbing my wrist.

This is what I know:

His toddler tummy fits right in the palm of my hand.

It is warm and soft and it soothes me.

Rubbing his tummy only sometimes soothes him.

He has a spot – a specific place he likes to be. Between my chin and collarbone, shoulder tucked under my right arm as it wraps around him.

This has been his place for months now. It’s where he comes when he wants a cuddle. It’s where he sleeps when he’s sick. It’s where he fits.

Except he doesn’t. He’s getting tall, and his gangly limbs struggle to find a place to land. His head bumps against my chin as he looks for his spot, refusing to acknowledge that he doesn’t fit the same way as before.

He wants me to fix him, except I can’t. He’s blocked, I think, so nothing terribly worrisome now either except that my baby’s in pain. We’ve tried the usual remedies – applesauce, prune juice, warm baths. We’ve tried worse, and had it work, except not fully. And now, on the 11th day, he doesn’t want any of that.

He just wants Mama.

Tomorrow Daddy will take him to the doctor to see if she can help. Mama will go to work, again, and turn on the bright lights, again, in hopes they will keep her awake. She will take ibuprofen for her shoulder – the one that loves holding her boy but is tired, and is sending waves of stabbing pain running up and down her neck between her ears and her shoulder in protest.

Tomorrow is day 12. He might still want Mama, but hopefully, for everyone’s sake, he won’t need her quite so much.

 

Freely written and linked up with:



New House and New Traditions

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our new house

So, we bought a house yesterday.

<– That’s it. Pretty good, eh?

We jogged into town on Wednesday afternoon, bought an iPhone (because, obviously) and started looking at houses yesterday at 10 am. The deal was done about 10:00 last night.

We are totally thrilled with how this worked out. It’s almost miraculous. We got a house we love and – get this – the possession date we wanted. We’ve agreed to be out of our house by the 26th and will be into the new one on the 28th. Of November.

So that means we’ll be in our new house for Christmas.

I’m not actually sure what our Christmas plans will be this year, but I think it’s going to be a little odd. We’ve spent every Christmas except two at home with my parents and other assorted family. We’ve picked out a tree at the same nursery every year. We’ve done the same lights tour. We’ve eaten Christmas dinner at the same table and hung our stockings from the same fireplace. Those things will change and it will be okay, though I’m feeling a bit sentimentally sad about it.

What we will have, however, is this, which we woke up to this morning:

snow on tree branches

There’s actually no guarantee we’ll have a white Christmas but if we do I will be a very happy girl. Despite many years on the coast, it never feels like Christmas without snow. And I think this little dude will like it too:

toddler in the snow

We’ll be in town for good just in time to gear up for Christmas, which will involve my sister and her husband, and my parents are planning to come out too. My mother-in-law lives here, so we won’t be short on family.

And it will be kind of fun to start new traditions and find new holiday comforts. We’ll go visit the great light display they do in a park here and actually enjoy hot chocolate in the car without being too warm. I’ll prove to Connor that I do, in fact, know how to build a snowman. We’ll bake my mom’s Christmas cookies in our new oven in our totally awesome new kitchen, and then we’ll sit by our new fireplace and eat them. (Or maybe I’ll leave the boys downstairs and eat mine upstairs because our new bedroom has a fireplace in it. Squee!) We’ll introduce our stockings to their new home and make sure Santa knows we’ve moved.

And we’ll enjoy the snow. Until we’re sick of it.

***

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Fall Foods: Squash & Pesto Penne

I found this recipe a couple of years ago on a group recipe blog called Bitches in the Kitchen. I’m always up for different pasta recipes and this butternut squash and pesto penne dish looked pretty good so I thought I’d give it a try.

Image credit: Morgan from Bitches in the Kitchen

One word: YUM. It’s seriously very good. And very easy to make:

Ingredients

1 small butternut squash, peeled, and chopped into 1/2″ pieces
1 tbsp butter
1 cup chicken stock
2 oz (1/4 package) cream cheese
1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese
3 tbsp pesto
salt & pepper
1 pkg penne
shaved Parmesan

Cooking instructions

Steam butternut squash until fork tender and drain. Bring a big pot of salted water to a boil for the pasta.

In a deep frying pan, sauté steamed squash cubes in butter. Mash gently with a spoon as you sauté. Add chicken stock, cream cheese, grated Parmesan, pesto, and salt and pepper. Stir until combined. Cook pasta while the sauce is coming up to a boil.

Toss warm sauce with cooked and drained pasta (add a few ladles of pasta water if the sauce is too thick) and top with shaved Parmesan. Enjoy!

The pesto gives it a really nice flavour. This is a great one for kids, too. (When our kids were younger a friend of mine said her daughter would eat anything you offered her, as long as it was noodles and cheese. Ha ha. I think we all relate to that, and this dish might just pass… And it has a vegetable in it!)

Happy fall!

Linking up with Kludgy Mom for:

On the Move: Guest Posting at The Mommy Matters

A lot of things about my life aren’t as expected after my experience with PPD, as shared (in abundant detail) here. One of the things I didn’t bank on was the effect PPD would have on the spacing of my kids.

I’m sharing my thoughts on that in a guest post on The Mommy Matters today. I can’t even remember how I first met Courtney, but I’m very glad I did. She’s an absolutely beautiful person and a great writer. She’s one of those honest types I cherish. Her photography is amazing. As in I-almost-don’t-want-to-look-at-it-because-it-makes-me-feel-inadequate amazing. But I overlook that because she also does amazing design work and offered a blog design giveaway, which I won! Whee! (I’m WAY excited about that.)

Anyway, this isn’t about my artistic inadequacy. It’s about Courtney being a wonderful host. She’s started a new series called Feature Friday and has invited me to kick it off. I’m incredibly flattered and have shared a post that is very close to my heart. Please come and read.

Comments off here today. Come and talk to me at The Mommy Matters!