Dillierama

Learning curve

John and I have been together for six and a half years.  From the minute we met, we clicked.  Conversation was easy, just being together was fun.  We never really dated.  The first few months of our relationship was spent just hanging out together and talking.  I have never felt more comfortable with another human being in my life.  As a couple, we make sense together.  The kind of people we are, our goals in life, our philosophies, beliefs, morals...we're so similar in who we are, who we want to be, I always imagined our relationship to be a perfect match.

Then we had a baby.

At first, I scoffed at the people who told me that having children changes your relationship.  If anything, our relationship was BETTER than it was before.  We were closer than ever, John and I.  And so it went for about a year and a half, I was living in some kind of fantasy land where everything was perfect.

Then our baby grew into a toddler.

When the actual PARENTING part of having a child became necessary, the part where you have to discipline and can't just sit around cooing about how cute he is and your worst argument is over who has to change the poopy diaper, I realized for the first time that our parenting styles couldn't be more polar opposite.  This, as you can imagine, has put a bit of a kink in my view of our perfect life together.  Nothing makes us butt heads harder than a parenting dispute.  We both love Alex so much, we both understand that this is our child we're talking about here and damnit we have to get it right, that there's very little give on either side when we fight about parenting.  We're both so sure that we have the right answer, that we have Alex's best interests in mind, that it can get pretty heated. 

I think John's too aggressive with Alex.  His MO is to scare the living shit out of him so he won't repeat the bad behavior.  John thinks I coddle him too much.  I'm too wimpy with the discipline and I let Alex get away with everything.  In an attempt to be fair, we both probably have a point.  John needs to understand that Alex is only two and a half.  He's just a little kid, and as such, he acts like a little kid.  He breaks things, he climbs on things, he throws tantrums, he makes messes, he bites, hits, screams, cries, he will do things over and over and over despite having been disciplined for it just to see at what point will he be able to get away with it.  I think John needs to relax about some things and cut Alex some slack because Jesus, he's only two!  The other day he blew his top over Alex making a mess with goldfish crackers on the carpet, an offense I think could have done better with a stern "No!" rather than a screaming fit. I'll concede that I do need to be more strict about certain behaviors, and perhaps even increase the punishment for the more extreme situations (biting, hitting, etc.).  Maybe I do let too many things slide because I don't want to deal with correcting it.  And maybe I'm so scared of becoming like my parents, who I spent the better part of my life being scared shitless of, that I can't bring myself to dole out the discipline because I'm afraid he'll grow up hating me.

The worst part is, unless we can find a happy medium, unless we can get on track TOGETHER, we will continue to undermine each other with Alex.  It does no good at all when John gets angry with Alex in a way that I feel is out of line and then I rush in to scoop him up and comfort him and yell at John for being too scary.  All Alex learns is that Daddy is a big scary ogre and Mommy will always save me, and if I play it right, I'll always be able to get away with everything.

We're still new at this parenting gig and I know we'll work it out.  This is just one part of our relationship that isn't going to come easy.  But it will get better.  John and I love each other, and we love Alex and nothing is more important to either of us than having a happy (and well behaved) family.

Helpless

Several members of my family in California were forced to evacuate their homes due to the out of control wildfires.  Among the relatives evacuated were my uncle, who's home in Rice Canyon he spent the better part of 30 years building himself, and my grandmother who's in her 80's.  Her whole life was in her home. 

Obviously, the most important thing, for which we are all grateful, is that they all escaped injury and are safe, staying with other relatives in the area.  Word from the grapevine is that Grandma's home is gone, her entire mobile home park incinerated by the fire. (This is a picture of a home from her mobile home park during the fire).  No word yet on my uncle's house.

My first instinct is to throw Alex in the car and drive down to be with my family, to help in any way I can.  Help dig through rubble to find anything that can be salvaged.  However, better judgment kicks in when I realize that a freshly burned trailer park is no place for a two year old to run around, and I wouldn't be of much help if I'm chasing Alex.  Not to mention I'm in no condition to be lifting heavy objects or inhaling smoke and ash being pregnant.  Even just being there for moral support isn't realistic due to there being nowhere for me to stay.  Hotels are full of evacuee's and my relatives in the area's guest rooms and sofas are occupied with my evacuated relatives and possibly their own friends and families who may have had to flee.  So I'm left here to worry and wait for any news and feel utterly helpless to help my loved ones.

Fertile Myrtle

What did you do this weekend?  I didn't do much, just took a little test:

Looks like I passed :)

We're thrilled.  I only just went off birth control mid August, so it happened quicker than expected.  John for his part has spent the weekend with his chest puffed out grunting "Me big strong man.  Me put baby in woman's belly" all the while pounding his chest. Ok not really, but he's quite proud of the fact that he so quickly and easily impregnated me with his fertile seed.  To hear him tell the tale, he knocked me up from across the room just by thinking about it.

Of course, we've been down this road before.  Twice to be exact.  Only once reaching the finish line with a healthy baby.  So our excitement is tempered by the reality that it's still very early in this pregnancy and we know all too well what could happen in the coming months.  That said, however, I've decided to be nothing but positive about this pregnancy, as I have no real good reason to believe that I won't end up the proud mother of a brand new son or daughter come June 2008. 

The Daddy/Daughter Connection

I am not a spiritual person.

I don't believe in ghosts.

That said, I really want to write about the fact that my newfound hobby, photography, has brought me closer to my father.  My dead father.  I don't really know how to write about it.

My dad was a photographer, a professional even, long before I came along.  I remember as a child squeezing between stacks of dusty boxes in the garage to get to his old prints.  I'd thumb through them, pick out my favorites and pin them to my bedroom wall (at one point, I had an artsy black and white print of some hills pinned above my hot pink stereo.  Imagine how embarrassing that conversation was when he told me that it wasn't a landscape, it was actually a pair of women's breasts.  Needless to say, the picture was quickly replaced by one of my older sister as a child).  I loved his pictures.  My love for my dad's photos turned into a love of photography in general as I got older.  Until recently, I never really tried to take better photographs myself, but have always been an lover and appreciator of other people's work.   

The last month or so that I've been taking these photography classes and attending the seminars for photo week, I've been thinking of my dad a lot.  At first it was a sad feeling that would come over me.  Wishing he were here because he would have loved this kind of thing.  But during the "Inspirational Photography" seminar this weekend with Bill Fortney, the feeling changed from a feeling of loss to a feeling of closeness.  I sat there watching the presentation and thinking how lucky I am that I get to share this hobby with my dad even though he is gone.  Almost like the part of him that is in me was bubbling up to the top and I felt like I understood a bit better what he was all about.  By understanding, appreciating and doing something that he always loved, in a way, enables me to share that with him.   

Not having a faith, not believing that I will one day see my dad again, makes for a very difficult grieving process.  Five and a half years gone and I still miss him terribly.  Now I feel hopeful more than sad.  Inspired even, to continue taking classes and get out there and try to take beautiful pictures.  Pictures he would have been proud to frame and display on his wall like I do of his. 

Family planning

Apparently two years apart is the timing of choice for today's young families.  Ever since Alex turned one, I'm constantly asked when we're going to start trying for our second.  I just look at them dumbfounded.  Alex is still a baby for chrissakes!  I haven't got so much as a twinkle in my eye at this point.  Not to mention, I'm about to turn 29, and I have absolutely no plans to get pregnant before I turn 30.  I have HUGE plans for my 30th birthday, none of which can be done while with child.  You know, gambling all night in Vegas, obscene amounts of alcohol, hot monkey sex in an expensive hotel... ;)  And did I mention that Alex is still a BABY?  Why in the world would I want two of those at the same time?  The one we've got now is almost more than we can handle.

I think it would be great for Alex to be old enough to actually know what's going on when we get pregnant again.  I want to have him come to the ultrasound appointments and help decorate the nursery.  And, as silly as it may sound, I want Alex to have a say in the timing of his brother or sister.  I mean, we're a family now, and I feel that having a second child is something we should decide together as a family.  It's a decision that will affect all three of us, quite possibly Alex the most and I feel very strongly that he should be included in that decision.  Granted, a toddler vote wouldn't have the same weight as a Mommy or Daddy vote, and of course I understand that toddlers are fickle, and while he may think the idea of having a baby sister or brother is great one day and the worst thing possible the next, but I want him to feel that his opinion, his feelings are considered and taken seriously. 

Also, I'm pretty sure this next child, will be my last child.  And rather than just getting it over with, I'd like to put it off a while.  I want to be able to enjoy the pregnancy, enjoy the newborn, enjoy nursing...  Alex is a child who is all consuming.  He's so energetic and curious, he requires constant attention and wrangling.  If we wait a while, maybe by the time he's in preschool, I'll have the time and energy to enjoy the pregnancy and have one-on-one time with the new baby.

Odds and ends

I just dropped my grandmother off at the airport. She's been here almost the entire month and I've loved having her.  She's the easiest houseguest in the world.  You hardly know she's here, well, except for when she's got the Lifetime movie of the week blasting on the television and my entire guest bathroom is coated in a thick layer of talcum powder.  We rolled up to Sky Cap at 9:44 am only to find that we'd both misread her ticket. We thought her flight departed at 11:00, but we found out it was actually 10:00.  I barely had time to hug her goodbye as she chased after the Sky Cap guy with her bag looking for a wheelchair to take her to the gate.  I wasn't sure what to do, so I just stood there at the curb and watched until they both went into the terminal. I finally got in the car and drove home thinking if she missed her flight she'd call me to pick her up.  She hasn't called so I'm assuming she made it.

Even though I'll miss her, I am looking forward to getting Alex back on a schedule and having life go back to normal. Whatever that is.  I'm seeing a physical therapist for my back pain tomorrow and Alex also has his 12 month well baby visit just after my PT appointment.  Wednesday I have to get an MRI done on my back, the doctor is concerned I may have a slipped or ruptured disk.  I'm really hoping to be able to get some relief from this pain because it's only been getting worse since I've been home full time (I'm sure it's due to all the lifting Alex and bending over to pick up all his messes).  John is looking forward to my back getting better because he says "it's ruining yours and my life".  How MY back pain is ruining HIS life is beyond me.  It must be due to the fact that he's had to rub my back more than once in the last month.  Boo Hoo.  I'm the one who can't wipe my ass without crying in pain.  It's not like I'm making him do that for me.

Alex the walker is getting more and more independant. Not only will he not let me carry him anywhere, he won't even hold my hand while he walks around.  So, I guess I'll be on the lookout for a toddler leash. Yea, I'm going to be one of THOSE moms.  It's just that he's SO FAST and he wanders off in a blink of an eye.  I want to give him his freedom, but I need to be able to keep my sanity.  Loosing my baby in a public place in unacceptable.  Say what you want about toddler leashes, at least he won't get lost or snatched.  I can handle people giving me the hairy eyeball if I still have my baby to tuck in at night.

Sickums

I am surrounded by sick people! Alex is sick, John is sick (both colds / cough) and my mother apparently has some mutant kidney stone she has to have zapped tomorrow to hopefully break it up into itty bitty pieces so they will pass.  Grandma and I seem to be the only healthy ones around here. 

I feel more anxious about my mom's procedure tomorrow than perhaps I ought to be. I mean, it's a relatively routine procedure, but it's a pretty big deal none the less.  It could be that for the last two days I've heard Grandma calling all of our relatives to tell them what's going on with my mom.  With each new person she talked to the news seemed to get more and more dramatic:

"Barb's got a kidney stone"
"Barb's got a kidney stone and it's too big to pass"
"Barb's got a kidney stone and it's the biggest one they've ever seen"
"Barb's got a serious medical condition and she could loose her kidney and DIE"*

*Ok, she didn't say that (exactly), but you get the point.

It seems like it's just one frustratingly bad thing after another in Mom's life and I so wish something amazing and good will happen, you know, just to break up the monotony of all this bad shit going on.  She's kidnapped Grandma from my house to stay with her the next couple of days for support.  Since Mark works nights, it's good that Grandma can be there with her.

Goodbye

I had Middie put down this morning.

He died in my arms.  It was very peaceful.

I miss him so much I can hardly breathe.

He was a very good dog.

Finding what's important

It's official, we're going to be poor.  Not living in a cardboard box poor, but living paycheck to paycheck poor. Last night John and I spent a lot of time talking about all the things we won't be able to do anymore. Golfing, sporting events, movies, dining out and traveling are definitely out. Alex's college fund and our retirement savings are both on hold.  Christmas?  Well, it's canceled this year (though we're not Christians anyway, so maybe it's time to stop being hypocritical in celebrating a religious holiday). We've already scaled down our cable package as much as John could stand, though our sports, HD and Internet packages have to stay because John is absolutely certain he would die without them.

I had to tell John to stop talking about all this because it was really making me feel guilty about quitting. After all the agony of making the decision, and the fact that my company is not making it easy for me to leave, thinking about how my decision is going to suck all of the fun out of our lives was becoming way too much.  It's one thing to be broke. It's another to choose to be broke.

By the end of the evening, I found myself crying my eyes out in our office downstairs, thinking of how I'm letting down my family by not making a financial contribution anymore. I thought about the classes that Alex can't go to because we can't afford it. I thought about the big games John's not going to attend. I thought about the preschool we can't afford (in three years), the team sports Alex won't be able to participate in. The collectibles John won't be able to buy, the house we'll have to move out of, the future babies we can't afford to have...  My thoughts spiraled down into a ridiculous puddle of guilt and self pity. 

Then I remembered something John said to me earlier in the evening that apparently I hadn't absorbed at the time because I was worrying about how we can't afford to buy beer at baseball games anymore.  He said, "You're going to be important to Team Dillier" And just like that I remembered why we made this decision in the first place.

I can always get another job. There will always be another house to buy, games to go to and Holidays to celebrate lavishly.

There will never be another 10 month old Alex to raise.  There will never be another first step or first word.  There will never be another opportunity to be with my baby boy, who is rapidly growing out of his babyness as I speak.  Alex doesn't care about Tball and soccer right now. He doesn't care about Baby Gym classes or getting on the waiting list for the exclusive private pre-school I'd been scoping out since he was just an embryo. Alex wants someone to play peekaboo with. He wants to be pushed on a swing at the park. He wants to bang on a drum with a plastic hammer and feed cheerios to our dog.  He wants to go on walks and laugh at the horses and he wants to roll around on the freshly mowed lawn.  And I realized that when I'm older, those are the memories that I'm going to cherish. I'm going to remember Alex's gap-toothed smile and full body giggles not how I helped to roll out that new software back in 2006.

Home again

Well we're back from vacation.  This trip definitely had it's highs and lows.  It wasn't what I'd hoped it would be, but it wasn't bad either.  I think the worst thing was it was just so damn hot and humid and my grandmother doesn't have air conditioning, so we were wet and sticky the entire time.  And for reasons still unknown to me, we spent a lot of time getting lost.  At one point we found ourselves on a winding mountain road in the middle of the night trying to get ourselves from a beach in Orange County to my grandmother's in Fallbrook. I'm still unclear on how that happened.  But on the bright side, Alex had a great time with his Great Grandma and he even got to play with his cousins Vincent and Raquel.  John got to spend two days at the Geek Convention and we (John, Alex and I) got to spend some quality time as a family that we haven't had since Alex was a newborn.

I knew that our vacations would radically change when we had a baby.  In the old days John and I would go out on the town, eat at expensive restaurants and have great hotel sex every night.  We'd go to the beach and play in the ocean, we'd go shopping, we'd get drunk in the hotel bar, we'd stay up late watching bad cable shows and sleep in until noon.  Vacations were truly relaxing and fun and carefree.  This vacation, after schlepping a ridiculous amount of luggage from the airport to the car rental place to my grandmother's and then back again, we struggled with a broken stroller, Alex's skin allergies, off schedule feedings and naps, trying to navigate said broken stroller through hordes of sweaty geeks (at ComicCon), waking at 6AM like clockwork every morning for Alex's morning bottle and snuggles... it really felt more like work than vacation.

But, even though this wasn't the perfect vacation by my pre-Alex standards, this vacation offered memories I'll have forever:

• John trying (successfully!) to fix our broken stroller in a hot parking garage.
• John also handled the bulk of the baby wrangling which gave me the opportunity to watch my boys interacting.
• Alex's first reaction to the waves at the beach (laughing)
• John stopping dead in his tracks as we're walking back to the car from the beach and saying "I really love you"
• Driving (lost!) on a mountain road in the middle of the night thinking about how we'll probably break down and get killed by wild California bears and John, always the optimist, saying "Well, I'm sure this is a real scenic drive in the daytime"
• Getting to take morning "family naps" with Alex snuggled between us
• Watching Alex play with my grandma, her trying to teach him "patty cake" and him "helping" her pick oranges
• Feeling happy when we landed in Utah and felt the wonderful dry, dry heat.