The holiday "season"

I find it difficult to explain to non-Jews how overwhelming the holiday season can be to someone who is not Christian. People get caught up in the "joy of the season" and assume, perhaps, that the "season" such as it is, is the same for us all. Christmas in all its commercial glory truly eclipses anything else out there, to the chagrin of those of us who celebrate Chanukah (or Hanukah or Channuka or Hannuka or however you want to spell it).

There are many - astonishingly many to my mind - who just plain don't understand that being Jewish means that we don't celebrate Christmas because ... newsflash ... we don't believe as Jesus as God. This seems to be a shocker to any number of people. But I digress.

We started early - sorry, *I* started early with Imri, explaining to him that we are Jewish and as such, we don't celebrate Xmas. Or Christmas. Or however you want to spell it. It's still hard for a little guy to understand, even though he turned to me the other day and piped up "we don't celebrate Christmas, mommy! We're Chewish!"
What makes it harder is that my husband is not Chewish ...er.. Jewish. He is rather non-denominational but the traditions of Xmas are important to him and I think it's been hard on him, not having a tree and other trimmings around our house at holiday time.

I've managed to postpone this for some time using the "oh, the kids will wreck a tree" line but he hinted this year that next year both kids will be old enough to handle a tree. I'm dismayed. But this isn't where I wanted to go in this post - I am meandering, as usual.

What I did want to talk about, although I am not sure how or where to start, is about being Jewish in a non-Jewish world. And obviously, I am not doing that well.

It's important for me - for everyone with a conscience, in my opinion, to remember that people are still hunted down, tortured and killed because they are of a different religion, race, creed, gender, what have you. In this specific case, I am referring to the torture of Jewish hostages in Mumbai, prior to their brutal execution.
So I will sadly post this link to the attacks in Mumbai. One of my oldest and dearest friends sent it to me this morning with a request to blog about this and while I haven't blogged in a long time, I felt it necessary to write about this. It saddens me greatly that it has received so little attention - while the tragedy in Mumbai is horrifying to any sane person, the singling out of Jewish people- yet again - cuts deeply.

I wish I knew how to end this post with an upbeat and positive message but the best I can do is post this picture for you all, because when I am deeply sorrowed, the only thing that helps me are these bright faces.

The source of my contentment

More experienced BTDT moms have probably already had that stunning revelation, the one where you realize that your thoughts of yesteryear were completely erroneous. In this instance I speak of my son ... how big I thought he was last year when we took him on the train for his 2nd birthday, how grown up (relatively speaking, of course), etc ...

I'm sitting here looking at pictures of his 3rd birthday - once again we took him to that same train and I took pictures with thoughts of comparison dancing in my head. As I was clicking away, the realisation dawned ... he is so much bigger, so much more grown up this year.

Ok, laugh at me. This is not rocket science, I'm well aware that with each passing year, he will g-d willing, get bigger and older and wiser. It's hard to explain and I'm not much of a writer but somehow when I took his pictures last year on the train, I was overcome with how big my boy had become ... and now ...

Ah, I'll shut up. I can't really explain. It's far too nebulous to nail down into words, at least for me. The pictures will speak for me, perhaps. It was a glorious autumn day, chilly but sunny and bright.




And Carmel, the tiny baby who slept the entire train ride a year ago, this year was an active participant. She bounced on my lap as if to say "faster, faster, mommy!"



She is fearless, by the way. Utterly fearless.






And just for the heck of it, some autumn pics.










And while life is hectic, crazy and often out of control, I look at my kids and something just clicks for me. As Jodi put it so eloquently, I've won my own version of the "Mommy Wars".

Yeah. :)

A note to those who miss me

I'm sorry it's been so very long. It's been hard to keep up with an extraordinarily verbal and physically agile nearly 3 year old and a 13 month old who decided to start walking at 10 months of age.

Add to that a new job for me - yes, I'm a govie now and very happy - and just the same old crap, trying to keep our heads above water in this economy and just paying the bills ... well, it's been crazed.

But with the political season amongst us, I had to make a quick post and say ... Sarah PALIN???? Are you effing KIDDING me????

I mean, with all the bright, articulate and educated women out there to choose from, even those on the wrong side of my political spectrum ...that was the best McCain could do? Fuck that.

And so I bring you two important videos, for those of you who care about such things and who may be on the fence.



and

Moving forward ... despite the cost of gas

Sorry to worry so many of you ... and thank goodness for long weekends. Without them, I'd get little done. In the civilized country of Canada, there is a long weekend every month, May through October. *sigh*. Think of all I'd get done ...

We are better. Still struggling but better.

Imri is growing like a weed. He is cuter than cute and full of 2-3 year old defiance and "I do!! I do!!!" whenever we want to do things for him. I am a touch concerned about his level of aggression but we just keep repeating our mantra of "gentle" and enforcing time outs when necessary. He is firmly ensconced in his big boy room now (after a month hiatus when we just gave up and decided to revisit later. Smart idea.), sleeping in his car bed and gravitating into our bedroom semi-frequently in the early morning hours. He is delicious.



Carmel is also growing in leaps and bounds. She is determined to walk before she crawls and is sort of teetering on the boundary of both those activities. She would rather stand than sit and loves snuggling with mommy ... but we are slowly getting her into the crib at night. I learned ... well, semi-learned - the danger of waiting too long with that. It's still difficult and we're not past her being there only in the first part of the night but with time this may change. Hopefully.



The two kids have started playing together this weekend and it is utterly wonderful to see. Carmel adores Imri and follows his every move and Imri feels very special and important when he sees how Carmel worships him. So they play a little and I shep nachas.



We went to Canada for Passover and had her naming ceremony at a synagogue there - it was a beautiful ceremony and I felt very lucky and even blessed (and I use that word cautiously). Check out the picture, you won't get to see me wearing a tallis very often. Or John wearing a kippah, for that matter. It was also good to see the family whom I miss every day more and more. I'd love to get out of this place and move back. Hopefully very soon. One day.





Work is work. Too much crap, not enough money, as always. The commute is killing me - the ridiculous cost of gasoline has John and I commuting together. I am looking for something closer to home. John needs to do that too but he has been where he is for 15 years and is reluctant. Understandable but his commute is 120 miles round-trip every day. Yikes.

The cost of gasoline is also putting a substantial crimp in our budget, as I'm sure it has done to every other middle class (hahahahaha, as if) family out there. We are being squeezed tremendously. Between our mortgage, the cost of daycare (which we refer to as our second mortgage, no joke), the cost of gasoline and the cost of basics, there isn't anything left over. Nothing.

It ain't easy.

Which, when you boil it down to the nitty gritty, means that I won't be seeing the new Indiana Jones movie until it has its television premier.

Oy.

It's been a long long time ...

Where to start? With my wonderful, growing kids? My insane life? My terrible loneliness? The wreck of my marriage? I just don't know anymore.

It's hard to know which way is up. Some days I just feel like I can't breathe and there is no escape. No place in which to find greener pastures and a fresh breeze, nowhere to find a place to lay my head for a few moments and ... stop.

Our financial situation has taken a severe toll on our marriage or more properly, on my view of our marriage. I blame my husband for our dire straits ... for not managing us more carefully, for not understanding the concept of "restraint" and waiting for wants, rather than having to have them immediately. But I am not faultless. He blames me, my staying part-time while Imri was in his first year ... and fails to see that the warning signs were there long, long before that.

Carmel still sleeps with me and my husband refuses to share that bed. So sex has been non-existent ... not to mention that I am constantly exhausted. Beyond exhausted, actually. I rise at 5:45 - after being up many times with either child, get every one's lunch ready, get me ready, shower if I have time which I often don't, and take off with the kids. Drop them at daycare around 7:30-7:45 and head to work. Get there around 8:30, usually late because of traffic. Work like a dog till 3:30. Get back in the car, pick up the kids and get home between five and 5:30. Dinner occurs sometime between 6 and 7. Bedtime starts around 8 - Husband gets Imri down to sleep... and I usually fall asleep, exhausted, with the TV on and Carmel beside me.

My bad for not trying to get her into her crib/bassinet before now.

But Imri's big boy room is finished now and he slept there for the first time last night. I didn't try and get Carmel in her bassinet last night, so I guess I'm evil but I was exhausted.

Imri also started going in the potty ... not religiously but a start. He is in the throes of two-dom and is a delight when he isn't having some form of conniption.

Carmel is six months and a delight. Eating solids, wakes up laughing, happy happy child. And beautiful, too.

And my husband is bitter because we haven't had a marriage for some time now. He says two years, which is an exaggeration, of course but it is to him what it is. So any issue I bring up brings up the lack of sex, lack of adult relationship, etc. And today he throws some shot at me about making a permanent bedroom in the basement if I don't move Carmel into the bassinet soon and he just doesn't care anymore because he has nothing and has been very patient, etc.

I guess I am sitting here thinking ... "and what do I have that you don't?". I never get time for me. Never. I had a haircut at the barbershop today after Imri's haircut because I was desperate. I never buy myself anything and have no money anyway. I never go anywhere. And the infertility bulletin board which I helped administer has gone in a path that I don't appreciate so I left that.
I have no friends nearby - not that I ever get time to spend with them if I did and I am too emotionally exhausted to reach out anyway. My relationship with my family in Canada is currently very strained so no outlet there. Besides, Canada isn't even an option because of our financial situation - that's gotten messed up badly.

I'm looking for new jobs that would take me away from my family during the weekends or nights or what have you so we can lose the cost of daycare as we're sinking ... I could go on.

So it seems to me that he wants sex. And I am miserable and couldn't care less. And now I feel that I have to go there just to regain my marriage and that doesn't make it sexy.

A rat in a cage, I am. Stress and pressure from all sides and no outlet. My psoriasis is the worst it has ever been in my life.

Sorry for the downer. Not that anyone reads this anymore, I'm sure, I just had to write it all out. My kids are the only thing that make this life worth living right now. I am keeping it together, somehow. For now. It's gonna shatter soon, I think.

I yuv you, mommy

I've waited to hear that for so many years ... needless to say, (although I will anyway) that I burst into tears of joy. Sure, he's said it before but he is just now "getting it". My Imri is a sweet kid. We seem to be settling into a pattern of sorts - he is definitely happier that both he and his sister go to daycare, as opposed to him going and Carmel getting to stay home with mommy. The jealousy is there but it isn't as ferocious. I wish that could be attributed to good parenting, and maybe it can be, I just don't know. It could just be inertia. At least some of that terrible aggression towards yours truly has abated.

He is growing by leaps and bounds and I could go on and on brag brag but suffice it to say that he's smart, clever and sharp as a blade. And sweet. Which makes it extra nice. Sure, we have our fair share of meltdowns and "no!!" but he tends to come around fairly quickly.

Speaking of growing by leaps and bounds, anyone have personal experience with the Graco Nautilus? Imri has pretty much grown out of his Roundabout and Carmel out of her infant seat ... *sniff*

Carmel is cutting teeth and it's not fun for her, or for me. Why me? Because I decided to make the same "mistake" as I did with her brother and keep her in bed with me. Yes, we co-sleep and I am cursing myself at the same time that I rejoice at snuggling with her.
There was little snuggling last night, just boob-seeking, whimpering and much tossing and turning. Have I mentioned gas? She is one heck of a gassy baby and her farts are hellacious. Yowza. That doesn't help. So I am one tired mama today. Hasn't seemed to affect her mood at all, thankfully.



She is getting big, though. I have started putting her in the jumperoo and she adores it, just like Imri did. She jumps and laughs and is generally happy, which is nice coming from the kid who loves to be held. I think solids are coming up soon for her. Maybe today, if I stay awake long enough to go to the grocery store.

The resemblance between my two kids is uncanny, actually.







At least I think so.

On other topics ... Hillary? Barack? I don't know. I'm just glad we're debating between a woman and a person of colour. And may I just mention that every single candidate on the Republican side scares me?

And man oh man, we could use those rebate cheques ... *sigh*.

My blog is aptly named

Sorry, gang. Life has been good ... and very tough at times. Chaotic, even. I haven't felt much like writing. At the same time, I have felt like writing but have been busy. Hah. I know. Consider Jen, with triplets and a small one and she still finds the time. I am a different story, it seems.

We went through a very difficult time financially over the last several months. Fortunately (or not, depending on your perspective), it is all coming to an end soon, with various legal machinations. It sucks but it was our only alternative. We actually came close to losing our home, so I am elated and delighted that we managed to avoid that - and by the skin of our teeth, no less.

Because of that, the holidays were a subdued affair for us this year, although I did manage to sell a bunch of stuff on Ebay, enabling us to get Imri some small gifts. Also, good friends came through for us in more ways than I can count, financially and otherwise, to make sure that our kids had a great holiday. I am rich in friends and in love and while it would be nice to be rich in ... er ... riches ...it is good to be loved.

That crap is the main reason I haven't felt like writing. Also ...too tense, in knots, stressed and angry, working full time and exhausted. Yeah. And grateful for what we do have. In other words, I've felt torn into bits on so many levels I haven't been sure which way is up.

In other news, Carmel is thriving. She is a sweetheart - fairly laid back and happy unless beleaguered by gas. She's adjusted to daycare rather well. I am slowly getting her on formula as my supply has dropped right off, and my supply of domperidone is gone now - and too expensive for me to replenish. But whoooooeeeyyy, talk about stinky farts. Yowza. i don't remember Imri being this stinky on formula, but then he went on breast milk only at 6 months of age, as opposed to Carmel's 3.5 months.



Her four month visit found her at 14.7lbs and 25 inches, both 75th percentile and Dr Wonderful was delighted with her. She is babbling nicely and trying to sit up and I believe she is starting to teethe. She also loves to try and swallow her hands whole. Her smiles are more elusive than her brother's at the same age, but just as brilliant.





Imri is doing well. He had a bad respiratory infection a few weeks ago with a terrible cough and he ended up needing a breathing treatment at the doc's office. But no asthma, just that one isolated incident. He is growing like a weed, 35lbs and 36.5 inches tall, rambunctious and full of life. He is constantly testing testing 1,2,3. Which is hard when you're stressed, exhausted and plumb worn out. But he is wonderful, verbal and a cutie pie to boot. His language skills, which have always been strong, are quite formidable now and accordingly, his favourite books are Seuss and Silverstein. Favourite toys are Thomas (of course) and anything vaguely monster-truck related. Especially Grave Digger. Those of you in the know are already nodding sagely, I know.



So that's that. The Redskins blew it yesterday but at least my beloved Canadiens are faring better.

Oh, and boggle on Facebook is highly addictive.

That's all, folks. I'll try and post more frequently but make no promises. Thanks for caring so much.