So I'm annoyed

Am I overreacting?

Kamryn is enrolled in a “pre-ballet” class run by the city (so it’s cheap!). It’s not dance studio quality but we don’t expect that; she’s never going to be a prima ballerina. I just wanted a programme to channel some of her energy and for her to have fun. It meets that criteria and best of all is held at the community centre a 3-minute walk from our house. This is the third session she has been enrolled in. Last night was their fourth class. Both sessions prior to this one had an enrollment of at least 8 students. This particular class only had 5, two of the students (sisters) had only come to the first class.

I raced home from work (I leave early on Tuesdays to get her there one time). We shoveled her dinner into her, hurriedly changed her clothes and literally ran the whole way to the community centre for the class. We get there and their instructor, Jessica, is standing in the hall waiting to great us. She informs us that if the two little girls who hadn’t been coming didn’t show this evening that she wasn’t authorized to teach the class and that the class would be cancelled (the other two students who had been coming did show). Class is supposed to start at 6. So we stand around waiting (and complaining to Jessica, who didn’t make this cockamamie decision) until 6:10. Just before we are about to pack it in the two little girls and their mother arrive late. Well bubblecakes!

1) These kids are registered in the course. They have paid their money, what does it matter that they don’t come to the classes!
2) Doesn’t the class coordinator have a phone? Couldn’t he have called and warned us of this possibility? Has he ever had to tell a three-year old that was looking forward to something that they couldn’t do it?
3) Couldn’t he have contacted the missing kid's parents in the 7 intervening days between the last class and last night's class and maybe NOT made the decision at the last freaking moment. (Parent of the girls tells us she had a message left on her answering machine about their attendance the same day as the class; now she could have been lying but I don’t think so).

Anyway, I wasn’t going to call and complain because what good will it do – but I got myself all worked up and have now left a message for the coordinator to call me back (my experience is that I will likely have to call him back! Grrrrr!). Would you let it slide? Do I need to take a valium?

Oops one last thing before I go and earn my salary.

Easter.

I forgot all about Easter. We had a good Easter. All four of us went to Church. I was dreading this. We have been avoiding Church for months because it is always awful. I don’t know if it was the crowds our timing or that he’s just getting older but Sam was tolerable, even “good” throughout mass. Yes we had to leave a couple of times but I think that is pretty normal with a child his age. There was a minimal of yelling and I actually got to participate in most of the mass. Kamryn was exceptionally well behaved (for Kamryn anyways). I was proud of them both. We had a quiet Easter spent with family. The Easter bunny came after mass and brought the kids a tasteful amount of “stuff” with an emphasis on “stuff” rather than candy. The kids loved their baskets. We had dinner at my parents house and everyone had a great time. Here is a picture we snapped before we charged off to Church:

So have I mentioned I'm back to work. lol

So I’m back to work. I had a dream of sorts realized – of sorts – I’m a writer. Not the kind of writer I dream of being. I have this romantic notion of being an OpEd writer for a major newspaper and well that ship has sailed and I wasn’t on it. I didn’t even make it to the dock to see it disappear off the horizon. This is a close 43rd though so I’ll settle for it . I’m a speechwriter.

My real live job title is “Policy Development Officer.” I’m one of about 100. In order to keep us current on relevant every two or three year they move us around to do different things. In my last position I was one of 3 civilians policy officers working on NATO policy. I was responsible for our bilateral Defence relations with Easter Europe. I was responsible to foreign military training in Canada and I handled out Afghanistan deployment file as part of a larger team. All operational, pointy end stuff. This is my first foray, within my ten-year career, into the public policy side of the house. I didn’t know what I would be doing until a few days before I came in. I was mildly surprised to learn yesterday that this isn’t the most popular of postings. It has such great potential for career advancement. You get face-to-face time with senior staff on a regular basis (4 or us write speeches for the Minister of Defence, the Chief of Defence and the Deputy Minister of Defence with the odd Member of Parliament thrown in for good measure), you are allowed to escape bureaucratic speak and really right real stuff and best of all – it’s a portable skill. For the first time since I started working her I have an exportable skill. Not much call for defence policy advisors in the public sector. Anyways, I’m happy.

It had looked that I might be able to duck travel in this job as well but we had a big meeting yesterday and one of the things discussed was getting us out into the world more so that we are writing about experiences rather than things we have read about. So it looks like there will be some travel involved mostly in the summer months when speeches dwindle. I like the idea of experiencing things though – I would really love to fly in a CF-18. Don’t think that’s going to happen though. Lol

My office is adorned with pictures of the kids and is sooooooo quiet it’s hard to believe. I haven’t had to tell even one of my colleagues to stop biting one another or not to throw food even once. And no one naps here (so not everything is wonderful). The kids seem to have adjust well although Kamryn asked me all weekend why I wasn’t at work. She is very interested in my schedule but she’s a schedule obsessed kind of person – “where are we going today Maman” being a constant question. Sam is a little more huggy – that I will take any day – but apart from that doesn’t seem to have suffered any ill effects. I think this might be good for both of us. When Daniel isn’t home both kids go to my parents for the day. So far, so good. We’ll see how that works. I have Sam on a waiting list for daycare (he has been since February) because I’m not certain my poor mother can handle him full time but we’ll see.

Okay I’m going to do some actual work now.

Meltdowns (maybe I should have a couple)

Okay as you may have gathered, I am back to work. VERY different than when I returned to work after Kamryn. I was so looking forward to returning. When I went back after Kamryn, that first week, whenever anyone asked how it was it was all I could do not to burst into tears having left my baby behind. This time, I was apprehensive about how I was going to handle things (so far it’s not going too badly) but the break is nice. Staying home with two kids under 4 is really hard especially when one of them is particularly demanding.

Yesterday I went back to read the journal entry on the first day we brought Sam home. It made me feel so much better – I’ll reprint part of it here.

So Sam arrived on 6th at around 2 in the afternoon. It was awful day. He cried and cried and cried some more. It was HOT! He was tired having missed his afternoon nap and apparently not eaten much of anything on the drive up (I have no idea why they didn't feed him). The house was filled with confusion and people. If I were a year old I would have melted down to. We gave him and Kamryn a bath together supposedly because he loved baths. He screamed through the whole thing but went down to bed all right. Ugh! His grandmother actually told the social worker as she drove her to the place she was spending the night that she was afraid we'd change our minds because he was crying so much (no real chance of that happening.

I was worrying that maybe we have some how damaged him. He is so happy and funny and enjoyable to be with when he is engaged in an activity that he enjoys but if you interrupt that activity either because it time to do something else (eat, sleep, go somewhere) or the activity is a danger to his life he completely melts down and is uncontrollable. He screams and cries and screams and cries and screams and cries some more. He is inconsolable and you can’t distract him with something else (i.e. If you give him a toy he will throw it at you with all the force he can muster). I kept asking myself if this was a behavior we have taught him. I know it’s just who he is and I know he has always been like this but it’s hard not to question yourself. It was such a relief to see what I wrote that first week we had him. I now understand what I was seeing then a little better. Yes it was the situation but to a large extent it was just HIM. He has gotten better but it’s so hard.

On Sunday, Daniel was working and it was pouring rain out so we drove Daniel to work and then I took the kids to the mall. The mall wasn’t opened yet so I figured we’d just take a little walk. I let Sam out of his stroller. I shouldn’t have. He does so much better with strict boundaries/controls but how’s he ever going to get any exercise if I keep him tied down. He is running and playing with Kamryn. The first store ride they see they are all over. I let them play for awhile as we aren’t really there for any reason but to let them do just that. After awhile, as I see Sam start to spiral into overexcitedness I move them along. They are good until the next set of mall rides. I let them play again. Sam starts to ramp up and he’s getting more and more kinetic. He’s bouncing from one ride to the next, not staying on any one (there were a cluster of 4) for longer than 10 seconds. I was getting tired of helping him up and then helping him down two seconds later. And it was almost like he was approaching an fit of agitation. So we moved on.

We walked for a few metres, I was holding his hand in an attempt to reign him in. He didn’t want to hold my hand and started crying and pulling away. Then he pretended he wanted to hold the stroller (this boy of mine is SMART!) So I let him hold the stroller. He holds the handle for about a second and a half and then he gets this little grin and bolts. Stupid mommy let him do this twice before I put him in the stroller. Total meltdown now. Screaming, crying, yelling at the top of his little lungs “Maman, march” (Mommy, walk) as if I’m torturing him. This is all my fault. Sigh. Had I left him in the stroller to start off with he would likely have remained calm but no I had to let him walk and play. No we’re not making a spectacle of ourselves at all. lol I’m not letting him out of the stroller because I know what he will do. He will bolt again. He doesn’t really learn. So we walk the indomitable length of the mall with him screaming and everyone staring at us. I go down to the parking garage (he’s still screaming). I put him in his car seat (still screaming) and I leave the stroller next to the car and go and sit on a bench in front of the car with Kamryn while he continues to scream. This man comes out of the mall, hears Sam screaming though the closed and locked car. Looks at the stroller, peers though our tinted windows at the screaming child and finally turns around and sees me – I told him he’s mine and I know he is screaming. Man says nothing and just walks away. Sigh. Now I’m really feeling like Bad Mommy #1. It’s what he needs though. I go and have a pointless “conversation” with him as he sobs about behaving and sitting in his stroller (I do it because I just can’t give in but you have to give in because he will simply scream until he falls asleep). I tell him that if he stops screaming he can get back to the mall. He stops – kind of. The whole incident from first scream to last – 40 minutes. In a PUCLIC PLACE (we would have just gone home except Kamryn doesn’t deserve to be punished just because her brother is out of control). Ugh! I put him in his stroller and he is FINE for the remainder of the morning. Shopped, took them to the mall’s indoor park etc. When it was time to leave the park he did so happily and without protest. I don’t get it.

We went out to a friend's for dinner that evening. He was destroying the people’s house (and they have two kids of their own so it’s pretty much child proofed) so I take him and make him sit on my lap – more screaming, kicking, and fighting. It was embarrassing. Thankfully Daniel (who was coming late as he was working) called at that moment and I excused myself to go and pick Daniel up at the bus station. I took the little “tornado” (as our host called him and she was right!) with me because taking him out of the situation was the only way to break the tantrum. He screamed throughout the 5 minute drive to the bus station and then was somewhat out of control for the remainder of the evening but Daniel was their to tag team with me so it was easier. That’s a typical day with Sam.
He does better with Daniel. I’m easier to manipulate maybe? Not to say he doesn’t melt down but his meltdowns have a beginning, a middle, and an end. With me the end never seems to come. He just screams and screams. Sigh. Work gives me a respite and it’s easier to deal with his challenges this way.

Daniel has been working weekends of late and having his “weekend” in the middle of the week (this sucks IMHO as we are never off together but is better for the kids so we persevere). It should be interesting to see if his behavior changes spending time with his father rather than me being around all the time.

Fat Pants SAVE ME!

For the first time in years I NEED to lose twenty pounds rather than I would like to. I literally have nothing to wear. I spent a chunk of change the week before I returned to work to buy some contingency clothes – two and a half (with mixing and matching) outfits to help tied me over until I lose at least ten pounds but that’s it. I refuse to dump all the perfectly good clothes in my closet just because I spent a year as a couch potato. I had such plans of all the funs things I was going to do with Sam while Kamryn was as school. The walks we would take the activities we would do but the kid just exhausts me doing normal stuff and all the extras I had planned just didn’t happen. So we didn’t take long happy strolls to the park as I did with Kamryn and I didn’t exercise. I just couldn’t get motivated. What I did do was eat. I eat when I’m stressed and I eat when I am bored and there was much of that over the last year. I knew I was doing it and I just did. I chowed down. I ordered fast food. I ate like I was condemned and now I am … It’s shocking what clothes won’t fit me. It’s embarrassing. SO on my return to work I have buckled down most literally. I have a supply of Nutrigrain bars, tea, and cup a soup in my office and I’ve returned to my “roots.” It’s how I did it 7 years ago (that and Weight Watchers). It will be how I do it again. I’ve had a bunch of false starts over the past year – I lost about ten pounds last fall for Sam’s baptism and went of the wagon at the baptism and never got back on. Being at work, far from the fridge SHOULD help. Nutrigrain bar for breakfast in the morning. Cup-a-soup and crackers or a small sandwich for lunch (hopefully augmented by a fruit of some sort). Reasonably portioned dinner, cooked in my own kitchen.

I know the first two weeks are the hardest to get through and then it’s easy so I have a week more to go and I’ll be home free. I’ve been helped out a little because for some reason the roof of my mouth is raw (I might have burned it on some lo-cal pizza I had for lunch on Saturday). It’s painful to eat anything solid anyways. It’s kind of a blessing. Yesterday for lunch I had a yogurt smoothie (8 points total which works when you’ve only spent 2-points on breakfast. Don’t frown when not dieting I NEVER eat breakfast so two points is an achievement) because I just could not bear the thought of having to chew anything.

Every evening I stand in my closet frowning at my clothes and panicking about what I can find to squeeze my thighs into in the morning. To make matters worse, one of the outfits I bought (never shop when you are in a hurry and depressed about being fat!) I bought a size too big (yes I DID try them on in the store) and had to bring in to have altered because the first day I wore it I almost went mad with constantly hitching up the pants. So I’m short a pair of fat pants.

Me thinking evil thoughts about COMPLETE strangers

Well you’re all going to get bored with me. Very bored. I’ve lost my beloved Friends by Adoption. Well not really. It’s still there and I’m still allowed to visit just not from work. What a cruel, cruel fate. I have the gift of the gab and that was generally my favorite place to go and gab. I started back to work last week (more on that later) and immediately on getting my internet hooked up I flew to the site (where I hadn’t been in several days due to an evil, evil virus at home – more on that later too). I had wondered about access and I had access. I was a happy hombre (well not really an hombre but you know that). I read a few posts. I posted a little update on myself and then I went to do some real work. When I went back to access the site later “poof” my computer can’t even see it. In my year at home, I have forgotten the annoyance of internet access from “here.” It’s sporadic at best. They block out sites for no obvious rhyme or reason and then poof one day you can access them again. You never know when or why. My fingers are crossed that this “ban” is only temporary.” In the meantime I will just come here and fill this blog with all the nonsensical notions that come to mind. :)

Like this morning – a yucky, wet, cold morning. I was forced to sit crammed on a bus on the way to work behind two twenty something women. Ick! Now I have nothing against twentysomething women in general and these women are probably very nice (not that I will ever know) and really didn’t do ANYTHING to me. What bothered me? They were eating. I sat down, ready to be grumpy. It was raining. I was wet. My pants were wet, my tights were wet my hair was a mess and I have an icky cold – so generally Ms. Grumps. Then I smell something. Something resembling wet wool socks. Not unusual considering the mass of sopping humanity surrounding me. But not it wasn’t one of my unfortunate bus mates it was a bag of Doritos “Scoops” Tortilla chips. This was Twentysomething girl #1’s breakfast I guess and she was going at it heartily. Nibbling each chip as if it were her last and she had to be careful not to finish it too quickly. Licking each of her fingers after each slimy chip. Oh Gawd… YUCK, YUCK, YUCK! It was 7:20 am by the way. Maybe I’m weird but I can’t abide watching anyone eat chips. It disgusts me. At 7:20 in the morning it disgusted me more and she ate the stupid things all 35 minutes we were on the bus together, pretty much. Her seatmate twentysomething girl #2 wasn’t much better but I was only judgmental about her – not sickened. She has a few pounds to lose (as do I so I shouldn’t throw stones) and her breakfast … an M&M chocolate chip cookie. I couldn’t really see her though as I was directly behind her.

I privately snickered to myself about their breakfast choices and telepathically told them that their twentysomething bodies would get old eventually and these breakfast choices wouldn’t serve them well. I guess the good thing about it is they have emboldened my diet efforts. More in my next entry.

Some comments on my comments :)

First, I love comments. :) Makes me feel loved. I love you guys.

Our computer is in our dining room (beautifully furnished as my house is lol) which is open to the living room. Out our front window, when I look over my shoulder from this seat all I see is my neighbour's house. It fills the window. I'm hoping that when the weather warms up I can grab her one day and ask her how it's going without being too pushy. Give her an open door that she can come through if she wants to. I actually was going to drop her an e-mail, which is the easiest way I know to be unobtrusive but my laptop died a month ago with ALL my e-mail address. I have them saved somewhere else but it will be pain to retrieve them. I guess I have to unlazify myself.

I forget that most people reading my blog aren't Canadians and aren't into "Canadaspeak." We are obsessed here with what language people speak.

Fran·co·phone or fran·co·phone: A French-speaking person, especially in a region where two or more languages are spoken.

An·glo·phone also an·glo·phone: An English-speaking person, especially one in a country where two or more languages are spoken.

We also have:

Allophone: A person whose native language is other than French or English.

Interestingly for allophone, when you look it up in the dictionary it is actually listed (with this specific definition) as a uniquelly "Canadian" word. Daniel regularly claims to be an allophone as he is a french speaking person NOT born in Quebec (the PROPER birthpalce of all french at least according to Quebecers). He complains that they would complain his french isn't french enough.

More musing on my guilt and how lucky our family is.

I talked about that night in the bar when I stared at the TV. That night something HUGE happened. I guess ALL my neighbours got taught a lesson. We are all sitting there crammed into the booth. When the chat turned to the convenience of pregnancy one of my neighbours (oddly she lives next to the neighbour I wrote about last time) exchanged a funny look with me. A kind of “the are such idiots” look. It was quick and fast and confused the living daylights out of me (since no one ever understands really and she looked like she did) for a little while. Mystery was soon revealed though as they turned (like wild hyenas on the hunt)and started peppering her with when her and her husband were going to start having kids. Never, I will NEVER ask anyone when they “plan” to start their family (I was as guilty as the next guy before I met the infertility goddess). She looked down at the table for a few minutes and then she burst into tears and said “R and I can’t have babies.” Everyone shut up.

She went on to reveal later in the conversation that her and her husband were looking into adoption. Over the next few weeks I rendered all the help I could. I told her my door was open if she wanted to chat or needed any help. I recommended books she should read and people she should talk to. I sent her web site addresses. I was like a living breathing information booth. She sent me a few e-mails and we chatted a teensy bit when we saw one another but once they had found and agency and knew what they wanted to do, my mentoring job came to an abrupt end as it was obvious she really didn’t want a mentor. So I backed off. They pretty much disappeared. They have really withdrawn from neighbourhood activities. I know why; same reason I withdrew from babyshowers. We really live in helltown if you’re infertile. When we moved here 6 years ago everyone was relatively newly married (the couple I am speaking of got married a few months after they moved in) and no one had any children. Since then 16 children have been born or adopted (mine) in houses within 6 doors (both sides of the street) of mine. It’s got to be hellish. Kamryn was baby #4 or I’d probably be a complete basket case by now. All street activities are centered around this mass of preschoolers, toddlers and infants. We all sit out on our front lawns and chat as the kids play in the driveways. No wonder that this couple lives in their basement! Really NICE people too (didn’t ya know that only nice people have infertility problems lol). Mom-to-be is a preschool teacher. For YEARS she has been the one giving Mommy advice to everyone because she was the most experienced. Ugh!


So wouldn’t ya know they decided to adopt from Russia. They told me that they didn’t want to wait for domestic adoption. I don’t know because I know we aren’t the typical waiting family but I really think people have the wrong idea of the wait. As I said though I have no idea. They wanted a Caucasian baby as they felt their child would have enough to deal with (they are kind of an interesting couple. Husband is 5’6” and wife is 6’1”, husband is francophone, wife Anglophone) without also being a different race. Or maybe they just said that so I would not think they were prejudiced – little did they know how normal I think their desire was. There is a good reason Sam and Kamryn are biracial and not Caucasian or black; I didn’t want my family to have to deal with the overt challenge that comes with interracial adoption either although I respect those that CAN do it. Anyway they choose Russia.

Right after they told me this I heard Russia was closed although my sources were US sources so I didn’t know the real story for Canadians. It didn’t sound good though. I asked them about it and they gave kind of an incomplete answer that I didn’t push because at this point they had to know more than me. I am a font of information (god I'll talk your ear off) on those subjects I have some knowledge of; I do know when to shut up though. When our social worker came for her last visit for Sam’s adoption (so this February) I mentioned it to her and she winced noticeably. Ugh! It’s been 2 years since that conversation in the bar and no sign of any baby anytime soon.

Their’s is the house I see when I look out my front window. I’m not sure what is going on with them. They were the first neighbours on our doorstep with a coming home present for both Kamryn and Sam. I haven’t seen the wife since last fall maybe. I see R more often because he was out this winter snow blowing the driveway and when I was working (and soon will be again) I used to bump into him at the bus stop. I don’t want to ask (if I ever actually saw them!) because I know answering can be very hard when nothing is happening. Still I really would like to offer support. They had talked about maybe having a baby home for last Christmas. I feel bad once again. Not the fairest world we live in.