Making choices

I am getting geared up to do Holidailies again and figure I should start flexing my writing muscle by writing every day. It is hard to squeeze in the time to write, to try to formulate the words so they are more coherent and to ward off the editing bug that makes me delete posts after writing them out.

We just returned from a trip to Edmonton and while it is lovely to be back home, amongst routine and comforting things, I feel a bit sad to disconnect from a world where I have people to visit with and places to go.

In the next little while we have to make big decisions and I don't know that I am ready to commit to them but I know that there will never truly be a time when I feel 100% ready to do things and sometimes we just have to bite the bullet and jump in with both feet.

I remember a time when I was younger that I would do just that and the exhilaration and fear that would accompany big (and sometimes rash) choices was part of what made life worth living. But I have other considerations now and feel more than a little anxious about making any decisions, never mind life altering ones.

1. Stay.
(which then begs the question: work or not and if the answer is work, then: where?)
2. Go
(which of course means, buying, selling, packing, moving; also, working? where?)

Each big decision leads to more decisions and each question doesnt just have an answer, it opens a path in a completely different direction and brings up more questions to have to find answers to.

It doesn't help that the decision I want to make is fraught with people who think that it is their place to tell us whether our decision is a good one or not. Cant they see that I am having a hard enough time making a decision without their input (which is usually one sided and can not take everything into consideration) Giving support is one thing, being told that every choice we make is the wrong one is NOT supportive.

YARGH

Conversations with Natalie: 6 weeks along

Well, it has been just over 6 weeks since Natalie and I have had face to face conversations.

In utero our conversations consisted mostly of me discussing which body part I thought I could identify from the way they stuck out of my sides (mostly) and where the baby's bum was relative to the head. It wasnt quite gripping conversation but it did eventually evolve into the poke game that I played with all the babies--baby would kick or punch me, i would poke back in the general vicinity of the kick and the baby would kick again. Lather, rinse, repeat. Many of our conversations revolved around me commenting loudly about baby settling down in there or finding a better place to put feet than inside my ribs. Scintillating, I know.

In the 6 weeks than have passed, however, our conversations have a decidedly more food centric focus. I often find myself saying things like "What do you mean you want more? There is no more. Milk bar needs to refill for awhile. Why dont you, like, have a nap or something?" or "Hi baby! Time to wake up now so that the milk you build up cluster feeding last night is now ready for you! Baby? Hello? Bueller?"

But in the last week or so, things have taken an exciting turn--she is now more awake AND is interested in doing something other than eating. Yes, indeed, I can catch her looking at the faces around her and can persuade her to coo at least 5% of the time. Not a good track record but hey, I was batting zero before so anything is an improvement, right?

It is an exciting time, watching her unfold like this, moment to moment; even though I have done this three times before, each one is so miraculous as they move from internal parasite to external one to independence. I am enchanted with her and cant wait to see her fierce character develop into her true voice.

Where did 2010 go?

I cant believe that it has been almost a full year since I last posted. In some ways I can think of many places that I have let my thoughts disappear into (Crackbook, ahem, I mean, Facebook) despite the lack of scope that FB offers and the unpleasant realities of the inevitable disconnect that is covered with the facade of making connections with people in real life. I mean, if I read your status and look at your pictures, I know what is going on in your life, right? So why should I bother to email or give you a call and ask what the hell you've been up to? I am not a pot calling the kettle black, I am in the belly of the beast and am so guilty it isnt even funny.

Still, a whole year of missing out on the small minutae that is blogging seems like an utter shame.

I can say this with ultimate certainty. 2010 was one of the hard ones. Not as hard as 2009 but the recovery from that year has spilled over into this one and I am still clawing the walls trying to keep on trucking.

It is tempting to try to cast back and recapture some of the moments of the year so they arent lost forever but I am unsure how ready I am for that quite yet. Perhaps it will have to come piecemeal, as I plow ahead into the upcoming year and brace myself for more challenges and more uncertainty.

I know that, as I sit here, watching my baby girl stretch in the classic home run repose, arms stretched overhead, legs stretching straight out and then resettling back into peaceful slumber, that I am in a better place than I was in the last post I made and I am so so thankful for that.

And so it goes...