A Series of Unfortunate Events

It’s been a while since I posted anything, but it’s been a weird few months.

In July I gave blood like I usually do. Getting my blood pressure and other in-take done the nurse eyed me strangely and commented on the size of my thyroid, and she casually suggested I get it looked at.

An ultrasound and blood test later and it turned out I had a thyroid tumour. Who knew? Not me. There were no discernible lumps or symptoms to make me suspect anything.

After a visit to the surgeon, a biopsy, and a week of panic inducing waiting, the biopsy came back benign. I don’t think I’d ever been so relieved in my whole life. But, due to the size of the tumour they recommended I take out at least half.

So, that’s what we did. On the first day of school instead of taking my daughter to the first day of first grade, I went to the hospital and gowned up. I’d never been in the hospital before with the exception of the births of my 2 children. I was scared. They wheel you in there with the most monitors ever and hook you up to all the things. All the while trying not show on the outside how much you’re freaking the fuck out on the inside. Plus to add insult to literal injury, those paper hats they make you wear are the worst!

Once the surgery was over I was ready to put it all in my rear view. And I did, I healed up nicely, took up kick boxing, moving on.

Except that today was my 6-week post op appointment. And it turns out the biopsy was incorrect and it was in fact, cancer.

But, there are a lot of really positive things. Odds of recurrence are low. I’ll have to get it checked every 6 months but really, I’m lucky. I know I am.

But man, I wasn’t expecting that. To have cancer at anytime, but especially at only 35 is frankly terrifying. I don’t even want to think of how long it may have gone unnoticed if not for that nurse (who I promptly left a thank you card for).

I just keep looking at my kids and want to hold them so tight. I don’t know how people with more serious afflictions don’t burst into tears at the sight of their kids everyday.

I guess I won’t be putting it in my rear view just yet. Things haven’t gone according to plan. But for now, I’m going to keep hugging those kids so tight and hope for the best.

 

Second Born Doesn’t Mean Second Best

When you have more than one kid, the youngest can feel second best and I’m trying really hard to prove that’s not the case.

As the second born and youngest in my family, I remember how it was. My sister had a baby book and a first haircut lock of hair, I had neither. I was the receiver of old books, old bikes, old Barbie’s. With the second child, sometimes you have to save a buck but as a kid you don’t always understand the reasoning behind things like that.

That’s why I try not to cheat my son for being the second born. His baby book has been (mostly) filled out. I made sure to take the milestone photos and the first haircut, so far so good. But it happens inevitably, with toys and books, blankets. Some things are just more cost effective to use the second time around, right?

Recently, when planning his second birthday I started to realize he doesn’t really have any of his own friends. We hang out with parents we befriended when our daughter was his age and it seemed to happen by osmosis more than conscious thought. We didn’t have to seek out other parents, there were just there.

Maybe it’s because we’re twice as busy this time (ok it definitely is that), but we don’t seem to have bonded the same way with any of these parents. And when I think about how to approach them, it feels a bit awkward. It’s also harder to schedule: twice as many kid activities to organize and clothes to wash and new shoes or clothes to buy.

In July he will be two, I can’t quite believe it. He’s a super funny and sweet kid, and like his sister before him, deserves an awesome party. And a bounce house. Which seems like a recipe for injury and/or disaster to me – but my husband will not be denied.

I want to have a few of his little friends over to celebrate his birthday, so how do I befriend other parents? Do I invite only a few kids or the whole class? Is inviting only a few kids mean? Do I Ieave certain parents a note in their kids’ cubby? Or does that make me creepy?

I really like the parents we hang out and play date with now, but feel that this kid needs a chance to establish himself separately from his sister. I want it to be his party and I don’t want to cheat him. I want him to know he is loved and deserves just as much as his sister, even if he gets a few more hand me downs.

The Spousal Battle for Victory

In April, it will be 8 years since my husband and I got married. I can’t remember exactly when we started making bets, it feels like we’ve always done it. I think it might have been 3 years ago. We’d made the occasional wager before: who was right about something or could predict the outcome of something.

But at some point we upped the ante. The first one I have a photo record of is May 2016 when we made a “no cookie bet.” Simply put no cookies for 30 days. My husband lost. This was a highly contentious loss as there was a debate that on the last day. At dinner time I ate a piece of fortune cookie, not thinking that it counted as a cookie (which in my mind deemed more sweet baked goods).

After much debate between our friends, he accepted the loss like a champ and had to spend the day dressed in a shirt completely covered front to back in Adele’s face that I found on Etsy. Since then the stakes of humiliation have increased, but I’ve yet to lose. I know I can’t ride this wave of victory forever, but I have to try!

The most recent losses resulted in him dressed in a bunny costume buying my victory chocolate. Then he had to shovel the driveway dressed as Princess Elsa. I know there have been others, but those are always top of mind. As the stakes have increased, so does the trash talk and the subtle attempts at sabotaging the other. It’s a source of fun and the subject of conversation for friends and even our daughter tries to predict who will win.

Having 2 kids and working/commuting full time is hard. There are so many obligations, chores, things to do, things to remember, things to worry about – and it’s nice that it doesn’t always have to be like that. I definitely feel like I take things too seriously as I get older and this is a nice break from it. We can still be fun, even though our kids think we’re old and lame. And let’s be honest, a little trash talk never hurt anyone, right?

Oh, the guilt

I realize a certain amount of parental guilt is normal. You can’t say yes to everything all the time, you can’t always get what you want (cue the Rolling Stones song). But man, I wish I could be there for them more. I wish I could control circumstances, like working closer to home. I’d like to work part time, so I could still be there to pick up or drop off from school and they wouldn’t have to be in before AND after school daycare every day. So I have the guilt.

I think with my daughter, I didn’t fully realize what I was missing until she started school. When I had my son and was on maternity leave I could drop her off and pick her up every day. I knew the teachers better. I got to know some of the parents. I felt more engaged in her day to day. Not to say that I don’t take an interest now, but I was closer to it.

And now I’m always rushing. To get them fed, to get them dressed, ready and in the car to get to daycare, to catch the train. After school is more of the same, rush to get home to make the dinner to give the baths and then bedtime. It just feels like there’s never enough time.

I feel like we should be reading together more, going over her letters/words more. She should be proficient in all things that SK has to offer, and maybe she would be if I were there to help her. Oh, the guilt.

The little guy is growing so fast and sometimes it feels like it’s passing me by. He was a baby for what felt like a minute, now he’s running and climbing all through the house. He’s already saying more words and resembling more of a little boy than a toddler each day. I should be chasing him more, playing more and be there more. Oh, the guilt.

But I like working. I have friends there I really enjoy and care about. It’s a nice environment and I feel part of a team. It’s hard to carve out adult time on evenings or weekends with 2 kids as well, but I try to do a spin class and a hot yoga class every week. So I have the guilt.

I love my kids, but I love myself too. So I have the guilt.

Continuing On After a Brief Hiatus

I can’t believe it’s been a year and a half since I last laid eyes on this blog. So much is different unfortunately not the financial side that my last post lamented about but, still a lot! My son was born and that kept me pretty busy. Now he’s walking, starting to talk and climb everything. His older sister is growing up, no longer a baby faced little one, but a girl. So smart, so funny, so much her own person. It’s crazy.  A different job.

While on maternity leave I went back to work a few weeks early to accept a new position at a different company. It wasn’t an easy decision, I’d been at my last role 6 years and really liked the people. But the new position has been good for me, better location, and my new coworkers couldn’t be lovelier. I still don’t seem to be able to break through a certain type of role and move up, despite best efforts but I am hopeful that will come with time. Workwise it’s an interesting time for me I guess. We’re not having any more kids, which means I can focus a bit more on what I want my work life to be. Not that I couldn’t before, maybe it was just an excuse but not to but now I don’t have that to hold on to. I’m trying to build up my confidence at work and remind myself of my worth. Which can be hard in a way, it’s not like the economy or the job market has been thriving and in many ways I know I’m lucky to have any job at all. But I try to remember that just because that’s true, it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t want to do more. I want to learn, to grow and to challenge myself to take on new responsibilities. So I hope I get a chance to do that at some point.

I’ve also been thinking about what makes me happy lately and trying to do more of those things. Hence the resurgence of blog posting. I’ve been submitting posts for other blog sites off and on for a while now and I really enjoy it. But there’s something really freeing in bearing your soul (or as much of it as you want to share) in a personal blog and putting it out there with no expectations or approvals needed. I just feel lately like I’m constantly worried about things I can’t seem to control. Our new Premier, the US President, what seems to be a continuous back slide of people’s rights, freedoms and ability to understand and support each other. Climate change. The economy. Any and all of these selfish politicians who don’t seem to care about what’s happening to the planet nor the people who inhabit it and only seek to serve themselves. The news is just horrendous. I can’t watch it anymore. I feel such anxiety about where things are headed and I don’t know what to do. I try to do what I can on a personal level. I vote, I give blood, donate to charity, believe in equal rights for all and that anyone should be able to love anyone else. I recycle, compost, don’t idle my car, and try to minimize our family’s waste.

So, to counteract the impending doom feeling that threatens to engulf me on a daily basis. I’m trying to do things that bring the joy. My family, hot yoga, friends, blogging. Maybe a vacation, if we can find the money? I am hoping to set myself a personal goal of blogging at least once a month as something I can do for myself. Even if no one else ever reads these posts except me, even putting the words out into the universe feels good.

Deciding on a Second Baby

I am currently pregnant with my second child, and to some that news has been surprising. When my husband and I had our first child 4 years ago, we had the standard reactions: hugs and tears and excitement. But when pressed about our second often times we would both say no way, no more. Heck, I even wrote a blog a year ago discussing how I wasn’t ready for more.

Because let’s face it, parenting is really hard. A quick google will find you a barrage of blogs and online groups confirming how hard it can be. Issues with breast feeding, sleep training, teething and all the while trying to lose the 40lbs of baby weight and feel good about yourself physically and emotionally while your hormones are still wreaking havoc on you.

As much as you prepare yourself for what’s to come, it’s different than the reality. I was one of the first of my friends to have a child and I hadn’t had been around babies before my own. We also had moved to a new neighbourhood where I didn’t have many friends close by. Plus, let’s be real – sleep deprivation does ugly things to a person. I can’t pretend I was the best version of myself when my baby had been up all night.

So when we excitedly told our parents and family that we were expecting our second, we had a lot of stunned reactions. They were happy, but visibly stunned. I could see it all over their faces, and to be honest it hurt a little. Did they think that I wasn’t a good enough Mother to handle another one? Or was I projecting my own fears back on them? Either way, you expect a jumping up and down, over the top happiness from family, but when your sister in law asks you if it was planned, it stings.

Yes we had discussed how financially it would be difficult to have a second child (and believe me, it will be). But as we went around and around the topic, we realized that although it would be difficult it wasn’t the reason not to expand our family if that’s what we wanted. Yes, when my daughter was a non-sleeping, teething monster thought of another one seemed insane, but we’ve all learned and grown a lot since then. She now has all teeth, is potty trained and sleeps (for the most part) in her own bed. These were the things I felt I needed to happen in her life before I could entertain the possibility of a second. But really it came down to one simple question my husband asked one day: don’t you want to hear someone else’s laughter in this house one day? And I knew then that I did.

I have hope that since it’s the second time I’ll be better prepared. I like to think I’ve grown more patient and a little less selfish, which were hard for me to learn with our first. I know now that if I’m struggling I should ask for help. I had some untreated post-partum issues with our daughter, but didn’t realize it at the time. I’ve spoken at length with my husband and my health care provider and if it happens this time, we’ll be ready. Do I worry about money? Of course I do, it actually consumes the majority of my thoughts these days, but we’ll find a responsible way and cut back where we need to.

I do worry about how another will affect my relationship with my daughter. I still want us to be as close as we are now which can be difficult with another little person who needs a lot of care, I hope that we don’t lose that. But I also know that I have a very supportive husband, who will be there every step of the way (seriously, my friends tell me all the time how awesome he is, he’s like Jack on This is Us caliber). And I know without a doubt, that I can’t wait to hear 2 kinds of laughter in our house. In fact, I can’t wait for it.

The Nag

In a few weeks is my 5 year wedding anniversary. Not a huge milestone by any means, I know, but it’s significant to me. I never really thought about being someone’s wife. I never thought about being someone’s mother either but I’m glad I’m both. I probably don’t do either perfectly, but I certainly try.

But sometimes with those roles come unwanted labels: the nag, the buzzkill, the financial analyst. Whether it’s your husband himself or his friends or coworkers ribbing about things he’s “allowed” to do – those are the situations I really hate. I consider myself a fun person or at least I try to be, but often finances, kid bedtimes, life – get in the way. And while there are some pitfalls to these labels, and they can hurt, I guess that’s part of life. I do my best to keep the budget intact, get the kid to bed on time. (Dads always seem to be the fun parents too). But I try to carve out my own fun, get out from under the labels when I can. I have excellent girlfriends who like a good road trip or a trip to the spa and I try to be a fun Mom along with the enforcer of rules.

When we first got married and I thought about our 5 year anniversary, I had fancy visions of taking a trip to Hawaii or somewhere equally exciting. But, another thing I’ve learned since then is that life doesn’t always work out the way you planned. I may not be going to Hawaii this year, but I have a husband who I still miss like crazy when he’s away and a little girl that is as stubborn and mouthy as her mother but is smarter and more hilarious than I’ll ever be.

I guess the point is, you have to take the good with the bad and not dwell on what you can’t change – that’s something I personally struggle with all the time. As the merger at work continues for a few months more, I realize all the more how many things are beyond my control. But while I struggle and freak out internally, I try to remember that work isn’t my whole life and I still have a lot to be thankful for.