What's the best thing about today?
That my dad is in the country again, having arrived safely last night, and is now with good friends who are taking care of him. Just knowing that he is much closer (read: accessible via a shorter flight) is a relief. And knowing that he is with good friends makes me feel even better.
I promise I will stop doing daily reports on this, but I am so very proud of myself today!
I just boxed up birthday presents for four friends who all have birthdays before the beginning of August. (This now means I am finished with birthday shopping for all but one friend.) Moreover, I picked up not one, not two, but three wallets for my husband so that he can finally retire his (which I bought for him in, oh, 2000?) and have backups when the next wallet falls apart. I also got some fun onesies for the baby and his friends (complete with matching bibs), and a bunch of shirts for myself.
And I didn't spend a single penny!
That's right! Two or three times a year, my department sells off all the sample products that don't make the cut for the new season's line. Think of it as a giant department garage sale. Anyway, in exchange for setting up the room for the sale and working the sale, people in my department get to sort through items and take the things we want - all before the doors open and the feeding frenzy begins.
So, I essentially bartered my time and energy for these goods. And, as I didn't spend any money, it's all well within the guidelines I previously set forth for myself.
[smiling] Freebies rock!
Show us something that rocks.
I picked up a few of these sets today for some babies I know (including my own Baby C). It also comes with a little matching beanie, but since Baby C now hates wearing things on his head, I opted to not get one for him. The other sets are complete, though.
And for those wondering about the Embargo, I'm happy to report that there was no exchange of funds for these (or any of the other things I'm bringing home tonight). I picked up a few things for some friends' upcoming birthdays, too - none of it something that I later intend to borrow - and my shopping strike still stands!
Yesterday morning, I had a meeting that lasted all morning. It was particularly stressful for me because I really needed to get home to Baby C so that Chris could go to work (we staggered our work schedules yesterday and today).
Anyway, I wrote the following haikus during the meeting in an effort to stay awake. (This rediscovered joy of writing poetry is, of course, courtesy of WorkingTitle, who issued a challenge this week to write a haiku about motherhood.)
Here since 4:30
Was quite productive except
Bored now in meeting
Too many speakers
Droning monotone voices
My butt is asleep
I hate PowerPoint
Presentations in the dark
make me go to sleep
So very hungry
How many presenters left?
It's never-ending
Why so tired still?
Coffee not kicking in yet
I need another.
Such a great big yawn
People behind me asleep
Groans - Not over yet!
As you can see, the main theme of the poetry is boredom in a meeting. Writing the haikus actually kept me awake and made it look like I was interested. Of course, one of my friends behind me was actually snoring, so...
Well, with the baby being under the weather, I had to make some purchases today. But as they are for the baby and not for me, they are exempt from the Embargo.
The big purchase was an ear thermometer. I've been trying to take Baby C's temperature, and he won't sit still long enough for a rectal reading. And the armpit reading is downright impossible now that he can reach over, remove the offensive thermometer from his armpit, and fling it across the room. At least with the ear thermometer, he's still kind of curious about what I'm doing, and by the time he figures it out, I've already taken his temperature and we're all done.
Oh, and I found it on sale - 20% off. That's better than a sharp stick in the eye.
I was very tempted to buy a cute little tote that would double as a laptop bag yesterday, but I resisted, remembering the Embargo.
Something tells me this may be a long six months. But if it means a couple of extra dollars in my wallet at the end of this trial run, I know I'll find a way to manage.
My little boy has bronchiolitis. Since it is a mild case (thankfully) and neither my husband nor I suffer from asthma nor nasal allergies, the only treatment my doctor could offer is lots of fluids, lots of rest, and lots of cuddling.
That's the good news.
The bad news is that he will be out of commission (translation: out of school) for the rest of the week because he's still contagious to other kids, though it's highly likely that he picked up the bug from school, anyway.
[sigh]
So, now I have to monitor his breathing to make sure he doesn't take more than 60 breaths per minute, and keep an eye on his temperature to make sure it doesn't suddenly spike. Oh, and if he develops a bluish tinge anywhere near his nostrils or mouth, that's a bad thing, too, and he will need immediate care - as in hospitalization.
"But don't worry," Dr. W reassured me this afternoon. "That's only in extreme cases, and I think Baby C will have this bug completely kicked in 7 to 10 days." And since this is Day 4 of The Cough, Baby C ought to be well enough to go to school on Monday. That's what his doctor's note says, anyway.
My only comfort is knowing that he shouldn't have to miss a lot of school in a few years (when it really counts) because he ought to have a really strong immune system.
That, and God wouldn't let anything truly bad happen to my little baby, not this soon after losing Mom. God's got a sick sense of humor, it's true, but I don't think he's cruel.
My heart feels like it's caving into my chest. I know of no other way to describe it. It's a very heavy feeling.
My mother wasn't a perfect person. I know this. She had her quirks. (Don't we all?) Some of them were more palatable than others, but they were just Mom's way. And you simply didn't rush Mom into altering her behavior, either. She was amenable to change, but, like most of us, it was best if you allowed her to make those changes on her own terms.
I've inherited many of those quirks, both the good and the bad. It's natural - one learns by example, after all, and Mom was the only mother I'd known. Everything I've learned about housekeeping, motherhood, and taking care of the family, I learned from her. Is it perfect? No, and I know this. Are there a lot of things that can and should be changed? I'm sure there are. Like Mom, though, I need to be allowed to make those changes on my own terms.
What I cannot stand right now is criticism of my behaviors - my quirks - especially those I shared with Mom. I know cerebrally that the person offering those criticisms (constructive or not) is not attacking Mom (or me, for that matter), but emotionally, it feels like an attack on Mom, my memories of her, and the legacy she left me. I can feel my blood pressure rise, my hands clench into tight fists, and, for lack of another outlet, I find that I burst into tears because the other person will not stop.
The first time this happened, I was on the plane coming back from Manila with my sister. I was sharing with her an ironic anecdote. You see, Mom had a recipe on her refrigerator for pan de sal, a traditional Filipino bread. Years and years ago, I was in search of such a recipe, but at the time, Mom said to me, "That's too much work. I just go to Magnolia and get pan de sal when I want it, and it's much easier." So it was very ironic, then, that here she is, actually in the Philippines, and she has a recipe for pan de sal on her refrigerator.
Rather than seeing the irony in it, my sister instead tried to solve the perceived problem of not having a Filipino bakery nearby (which really isn't an issue) and suggested that the next time I visit her, I purchase a few dozen pan de sal and store them in my freezer. When I reminded her that I don't have enough room in my freezer to do so, she then asked, "Then what are you going to do when you make the recipe? It makes 30 pieces!"
Honestly, I hadn't thought that far ahead. The recipe was written in Mom's handwriting. She didn't have the oven temperature or baking times listed. I was thinking that it would be a nice recipe to test out with a friend and figure out the missing elements via trial and error.
Then my sister offered a major blow: "You take on too many projects, Eileen. That's your problem. You take on too much."
She might as well have added, "Just like Mom."
Last night, my husband said something very similar in reference to household chores. He didn't say, "Like your mother," but the particular things he was referencing were things I specifically learned from Mom. And, just as I did flying over the Pacific Ocean, I lost it.
Mom wasn't perfect. I'm not perfect. I'm doing my best, just like I think she did. Somehow, she was able to get a lot more accomplished than I can, with less help from my father than my husband offers me. I think a major difference, though, is that Mom had help in looking after my sister and me when we were very little. Mom had help from all sorts when it was just my sister; they immigrated to the United States after my sister was more than a year old. And she stayed at home with her in those early days, which I don't have the luxury of doing. When I was born, and Mom was already back in the workforce, my lola, her mother, lived with us and took care of me during the day and in the evenings, affording Mom the opportunity to cook and clean and do all those other necessary chores.
There are a lot of chores that need to be done around our house. Basic things that should be done each week, like changing bedsheets, Swiffering the floors (especially now that Baby C is super active), vacuuming the areas where Baby C spends a lot of time, cleaning toilets, cleaning bathrooms, etc. Could I have been doing any or all of these last week instead of sitting quietly on the couch playing solitaire? Definitely. Did I want to at that moment? Clearly not. Housework isn't something that relaxes me, and the one thing I need to do at night is try to let my brain unwind so that I might be able to fall asleep on my own and possibly even sleep fitfully.
So, rather than getting up and cleaning the house, I sat on the couch, Palm Pilot in hand, and played a few dozen rounds of soliaire.
Just like Mom did in her later years.
I don't want to feel guilty about what I believe are core housekeeping competencies - or my tendency to always want to do more - right now because these are things I've largely picked up from my mother. My mother, who was the first person who ever loved me and who, until the day she died, knew me better than anyone ever could or ever will (including myself) because she was the only one there from before the very beginning. My mother, who taught me to the best of her ability, which, for better or worse, included some quirky behaviors. My mother, who was the first person I ever loved, the first person who made me feel safe, the first person to offer me true, unconditional love.
My mother, whom I will never see again, and whom I miss so very much.
I don't want to feel guilty about being like Mom. And I don't want to be criticized for being like Mom, either. Mom was who she was, and I am who I am largely because of who she was. Do I think some of my behaviors need modification? Absolutely. But I need to make those changes on my own terms.
Just like Mom.
Haiku time!!!
Compose a haiku about motherhood or mama-to-be-hood.
I have two to share:
Why the lack of sleep?
Coughing little baby boy
Keeps us up at night
One more thing to do
Sweet boy slumbering so still
Left toys to pick up
At least it's the first one of the year, and we're already halfway through the second month.
Baby C isn't feeling well. I think that goes without saying, considering that his school had to call me. Twice.
The first time, his teacher called to let me know that he had a bad cough (which I already knew), and his breathing was getting a bit more labored. I just bought the little PediaCare humidifier for his room, so I told her that we would use it tonight to see if will clear up his congestion, and tomorrow morning we'd see how he feels.
That was fine. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said, and that was it. I called the doctor's office to see if there was anything available for tomorrow in the late afternoon, and the receptionist said to call first thing in the morning. Mental note made - check.
Then, about two hours later, I got another call, this time from someone I don't normally see.
Baby C has an elevated temperature (more than 100 degrees), a bad cough, and, oh, he just threw up.
[sigh]
So, I get back on the phone with the doctor's office and try to schedule something first thing in the morning. Baby C is a wee one, after all, and vomiting at his age gets you to the front of the line. (I discovered that the first time he had a stomach bug. Not cool that he covered my hoodie with vomit, but it did get us an immediate visit with the doctor.) J, the office manager, will call me before she leaves tonight and let me know what she can do as far as getting him seen. In the meantime, I just have to wait it out.
* * * * *
Nurse A just returned my call, and as suspected, there's not a whole lot that can be done about the vomiting. (He's had stomach bugs before, so I kind of knew that.) The coughing combined with the labored breathing, on the other hand, is enough cause for concern that she recommended taking him to the ER this evening if it sounds (or looks) like he's gasping for air. I just called Chris to let him know what Nurse A said, and he told me that Baby C doesn't sound like he's having a whole lot of trouble breathing; he's just got a bad cough.
As for me, I would like nothing more than to rush home and take care of the baby. Sadly, there's not a whole lot that I would be able to do at home that Chris can't do, and as today is Tuesday, I have to wait for Finance to hurry up and finish the report I desperately need. It doesn't look like it will be finished in the next few minutes, so it looks like I'll be here for a while before I can go home and see for myself how my little one is doing. This morning, he was still playful and cheery. I can only wonder what his disposition will be when I get home.
Tom Petty's right. The waiting is the hardest part.
Okay, I read Jennifer's post yesterday and ruminated on it, then one of my neighbors decided that she was going to take the plunge, so I've decided, well, it must be possible.
So, I hereby announce my personal shopping embargo.
Clothes shopping has never been a real issue for me. I go through spurts, where I might not buy any clothing for months and months, then suddenly decide to spend a couple hundred dollars in one expedition. At the end of the day, it's really not as bad as it could be. But I definitely have other vices.
Since shopping for clothing is not a major issue (I think the last item I bought for myself was a belt at the beginning of the year... which I seem to have since left behind in the Philippines and will need to replace before the end of the month), I've decided to make up my own rules in my shopping embargo:
- No purchasing of new or used clothing (excluding underwear - I own enough socks) - PERIOD. This includes accessories and shoes. No new jewelry, no new shoes, no new ANYTHING. (Not even a concert T-shirt.)
- This embargo is limited only limited to adult clothing, meaning that I will not purchase anything for my husband or me. The baby, on the other hand, still needs to be clothed (nakedness - as much as it becomes him - seems to be frowned upon as we do not live in a nudist colony) and I honestly don't have nearly enough clothes to sustain him for any extended period of time. Toys for the baby are also exempt from this embargo (but they have to specifically be for the baby, and not something like a Nintendo DS, which would really be for me).
- I am allowed to accept clothing from others, be it borrowed or hand-me-downs. This also means that when my company has Sample Sales (such as the one we are having at the end of the week), I am allowed to acquire whatever goods I choose, as long as I am not required to outlay any funds.
- Alterations, dry-cleaning, and shoe repairs are musts.
- No purchasing of new (or used) scrapbooking supplies (excluding adhesives - and only then if I legitimately exhaust all of my supply). This includes paper, ribbon, stickers, etc. Since my magazine subscriptions have already kicked in and do not need renewal until the end of the year, I'm free to continue receiving them. I just can't buy anything new.
- No purchasing of yarn unless I completely use up my existing supply. And even then, I'm sure mom left more than a few skeins for me to use in a project of my choice.
- No purchasing of new (or used) books (beginning Monday, February 25, only because there are a couple of books that I want to add to my library), with the exception of work-related books and textbooks (in the event that I either need books for work or choose to return to school before the designated end of my embargo - neither of which is likely, but nothing is impossible).
- No purchasing of new (or used) kitchen gadgets, appliances, cookware, or tools. I have a lot in my kitchen already. I could probably stand to get rid of some of it.
- No purchasing of new (or used) electronic hardware or software. Since I've already done my taxes, I won't need to buy Turbo Tax. And since Nintendo Wiis are still hard to come by, this really won't be much of an issue for me.
- I am allowed to accept any of my embargoed goods as gifts, provided there is no exchange of money for said goods. Additionally, I am allowed to purchase any of these embargoed goods as gifts for others, provided the gifts are for legitimate occasions (i.e., not just because it's pay day) and my primary intention is not to then borrow said goods for my own personal use.
In a nutshell, effective immediately (with the exception of books, which I am postponing until Monday, and a new belt, which I will purchase today), I declare an embargo on all goods except foodstuffs and baby items. How long will this embargo last? Jennifer has proposed a year, but her embargo is strictly on clothing. I challenge myself to maintain this embargo until the beginning of August, which is 6 months. At that time, I will re-evaluate my position and share with you, my blogging public.
Wish me luck!
