Unexplicably sad

I've been asked to remove this post so I have. Thank you all to those of you who commented and wrote. It means more to me than I dare tell you here.

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.

Almost over

Monday I go back to work. Eight short weeks ... with Imri I had 12. But money is much tighter this time around.

It's killing me. Each time I think about it my heart starts racing, tears well up and my palms go sweaty. 8 weeks old. She is tiny ... too tiny to leave her mommy's arms.

It's killing me.

Carmel has started smiling at me. She coos and kind of chortles a little. Her temperament is definitely her own - a bit more high maintenance than her brother was. 0-60 in no time flat ... and then it's hard to get her to calm. Early intervention is key with my "just-so" girl. She does have lots of gas and some spit up ... something I never saw with Imri. But for the most part, she is content.

Carmel, you are beyond sweet - so tiny, so cute, so obviously alert and bright. Your face lights up at the sight of me, at the bright lights around you, at the colours on your play-mat. We are just getting to know one another, you and I. I can't stand the thought of leaving you with someone else.

And I have to leave you.

It's plain wrong.

I found a nursing school girlfriend by chance the other day, while surfing the web. She lives in Canada and is home on maternity leave with her second child, who was born in May. Because Canada supports families who have children by giving paid maternity leave.

My daughter was born in September and I have to go back to work. Because here, in one of the richest and most powerful countries in the world, there is no mandated maternity leave, paid or otherwise. In other words, the US government for all its "family values" talk, doesn't give a shit about families.

It's easy to go on and on about cells multiplying in the uterus ... doesn't cost a thing. But when the money needs to go where the mouth is, this government is strangely silent. Unless it comes to asking Congress for even more money for a war we shouldn't be in, in a country whose people don't want us. But care for our own families?? Nah. Why bother? Too expensive. So veto the s-chip bill, Georgie, why don't you, block children's access to health care ... but yell really loud about abortion rights because that costs you nothing.

Yes, I'm not happy. I can't stand the thought of leaving my infant daughter in daycare, all because I'm living in the wrong country. I told John that we are going to be back in Canada before Imri goes into first grade. Non-negotiable.

Please send us good wishes.

He's two. *sniff*

My little boy is getting big. Yes, he's still little, only two now, but when I look at his sister, he's practically ginormous.

Imri, you can jump now ... both feet off the ground. Your vocabulary (yes, I know, I know, I brag about this a lot)is incredible and expanding every day. You can tell us colours and are getting shapes under your belt. Numbers still need some work - not the recital of their names which you do fairly well, but the comprehension of their meaning. You sing songs; ABC, itsy bitsy spider, etc. You sit down with books and "read" them.

You are my special boy, Imri ... even if you drive me to distraction some days. Mommy is still the target for your displeasure with the change in our lives, aka Carmel. We are slowly getting there but it's tough for you some days. I did see an inkling of love when mommy went to leave Carmel in the infant room of the daycare center for a brief moment - you got all upset that Carmel wouldn't be coming with us. That did make me smile.

Your birthday was last Sunday and we celebrated in style. Train style, that is, one of your favourite things. Unfortunately, you woke up with a bad cold but we celebrated anyway. Here are some of the highlights.

Other than a few tantrums, a bad cold and two year old crap, we had a lovely day.

After breakfast Imri opened his first present ...



He loves this table, seriously. He does have another train table but it is higher off the ground and hard for him to use, so this was a great find. Not to mention I got it cheap off of Ebay. All we had to do was drive to Baltimore to pick it up.

After that, we went to the nearby Train Station - it's not an active railroad, but there is a museum and they run trains on the weekends during the fall and summer - it's an hour long ride and very nice. They also host birthdays on the caboose, something to consider in a couple of years time.

Imri and Daddy on the caboose


Here is Imri sitting on the seat in the train, eating goldfish.



And yes, that is a Thomas snack holder.

Imri fell asleep halfway through ...




yes, those are Thomas sneakers ...

He woke up when we got off and went to see the engine. The conductor and engineer took him up into the engine!



The engineer even tooted the horn!



We toured the older trains that aren't being used anymore



It was great fun! Then we went home and had cake




And mommy and daddy spoiled a small boy rotten with another present ... a trike!



Here's daddy taking Imri for a ride - the trike has a steering wheel for the parents ... very nice.



And in the end ... he'd rather play with sticks ...



And yes, that is a train on his shirt. What can I say?

Life is beautiful

We are moving along nicely at Chez Chaos. Carmel is growing nicely; she has her first month appointment on Friday and I am looking forward to finding out her weight gain as she is no longer as light as air, the little porker.



We are still struggling with her tummy issues: discomfort, lots of gas (some quite smelly), straining and grunting, some greenish poops. I did a bunch of reading as is my wont, and found out that it may be due to overactive letdown (and therefore a foremilk/hindmilk imbalance, perhaps), which I definitely have. I've been trying to do different things to make it better for her but it doesn't always seem to work. I've tried frequent burping (not a good burper, not my girl) but when she doesn't burp - and I try in a variety of positions - do I put her back on the boob so she can get the hindmilk?, pumping first (if I can), feeding while reclined, delatching and relatching ... any other thoughts out there?

Other than that, I can really see how she's growing and changing. She's filling out - what were scrawny chicken legs are getting plump and strong, her little cheeks are cherubic and chubby and she is awake more often now. She is alert and watchful and really doesn't like it when she can't see what's going on around her. And, she's starting to recognize her mommy. This morning, I saw *something* in her eyes when she saw me ... a glimmer of a smile and what I swear is recognition. I'm not just saying that because I'm her doting mother, either. She does recognize me by sight.



She's also starting to hold her head up really well. Tummy time this morning netted us head position changes from side to side and more vocalizing. And i finally clued into the fact that she's not a bouncy seat fan but loves the swing. I'm loving this, I really am. I am so enjoying my daughter.



This afternoon she actually grabbed for my hand as she curled up in my lap after nursing. *sniff*


Life is damned good, have I mentioned that?

Imri has good and not so good days. His language skills are amazing - at least to us. He speaks in complete sentences now and they get more complex by the day, it seems. He is also counting well "one, two, three, five, six, seven, nine, ten". Not bad. He has the colour "red" down pat, and usually "green" too ... blue and green can be interchangeable. Yellow is a whole nother ball game. He is still trying to sort out the whole Carmel thing and where he falls on the continuum. We constantly give reassurances as to his place in our hearts, but heck - it's damned hard being nearly two.



After all, being two means wielding some serious power. Like the power of "no". A potent word which stops big people in their tracks. Even if you're saying no to something you actually want, it's still pretty cool to say it and see the results.

Hence the defiance thing, so I've been trying to de-escalate by counting to three. As in "ok, I'm going to count to three. You need to get off of the table or you'll go to time-out. One ... time to get off the table. TWO ... time to get off the table ... two and a half! ... "
Usually that's as far as we go. For now.

But it's still worth every darned minute of frustration. Every damned minute.

911

It was approximately 7:30 pm. I was exhausted. Carmel had been very fussy with gas and frequent poops, and difficult to console at times and Imri was pushing my buttons as only a 2 year old can do. He was playing with all the stuff he knows he shouldn't play with; the phone, the remote control, the baby's car seat and bouncy seat, etc etc etc.

I decided to head upstairs as the baby was relatively quiet, with the faint hope of stealing a little early evening sleep. John decided to take Imri upstairs and get him ready for bed, too. We all trooped upstairs and I started to change Carmel on our bed.

John has Imri on the changing table and calls out to me "Is someone knocking?" I didn't hear anything and told him as much. A few seconds later, I do hear a knock but I'm mid-swipe with the diaper kit and ignore it. Then John calls out "Do you want to get the door?" just as the knocking gets very insistent. And loud. I can't help but wonder WTF is knocking on our door at 7:30pm and why in the world J would think that I could get the door, when I'm changing the tuchas of a newborn ...

The knocking becomes kind of pounding and J grabs Imri and heads downstairs. I hear male voices speaking but can't make out what is being said but it sounds official. Carmel is now changed and I head downstairs, worried.

There stand two of Maryland's finest in our doorway. "Is everything ok here, Ma'am?" the one queries and I look at him blankly and answer that yes, everything is fine ?? "There was a 911 call from this residence, Ma'am." "No Sir, not from here!" The officer confirms with dispatch that indeed, a 911 call came from our number.

Then the light dawns. I look at J, J looks at me and we grin. "I think it may have been our toddler, Officer! We are so sorry!". I go and grab our phone, the object of Imri's earlier attention and hit the redial button. Sure enough, the numbers 9111111111111 flash at me. I look at Imri, sitting in his daddy's arms and laugh.

We apologize profusely and the officers laugh it off and depart.

Now we just have to train Imri to do it when it's actually needed. And hope that the ETA of the cops gets better ... it took a good ten minutes or more for them to show up to a 911 call.



And yes, I am both fat and tired. But so wonderfully happy with my children beside me. My children! Yeah, 'happy' doesn't quite cut it.

From the trenches

Carmel is sick. Imri brought home a cold from daycare and it migrated, of course. She's not that bad, just a stuffy/runny nose and a tiny cough that would be cute if it didn't signify illness.
No fever ... just a virus, more than likely. I'm really hoping that it passes quickly for her and for her brother, so that when I get it, I won't have to worry about the kiddos.

She is also terribly gassy. I'm really hoping this phase passes quickly because the need for sleep is killing me.

Imri has a runny nose and a cough too. Oh, and a huge chip on his shoulder. It seems to be much harder for him over the weekends, when what was his "mommy and daddy time" has now been partially usurped by a crying stranger. He has a myriad of ways of showing his displeasure with the stranger, including throwing things in her general direction (the phone, an empty cup, etc), running his trucks into her car seat as she naps within, etc. We've tried positive reinforcement for good behaviour, time-outs, one-on-one time, etc. Nothing seems to work for any long-term period of time, especially when he realizes that the stranger is still here when all is said and done.

It ain't easy being nearly two.

Or being the parents of said child ... I've lost my temper a couple of times - not good. No, I'm not a perfect parent. I'm sleep deprived and moody and having trouble with the person who was previously my sun-shiny child. I lose it sometimes, and yell. And it upsets me - and it upsets Imri, obviously. Calling it "human" is true but it doesn't help me parent my beloved boy any better.

Thoughts?

Two weeks old

This time two weeks ago, I was pacing anxiously, waiting for the hospital to call. All the anxiety, the stress and finally ... the c-section. All they had to say was "risk of contracting meningitis" and it was decided.

I'm still not terribly happy with the way it went - not the multiple spinal stick attempts by the anaesthesiologist, although that SUCKED. I had been pretty specific about wanting my daughter with me afterwards but they took her to the nursery with John in tow, and the doc needed to tie my tube and sew me up ... I guess it was to be expected but I kept asking for her in the recovery room. They finally did bring her to me just as we were to go to the post-partum area, I'm not sure how long it took all in all. It wasn't awful but I did want to hold her longer than the 2 minutes I got in the OR.

But ... she is beautiful (as you've seen) and perfect and I am in heaven, seriously. A lot more relaxed than I was with Imri, partially because my parents aren't here and I don't have to plan a bris, partially because I am not freaking out over what I should be doing next. I'm just letting Carmel be Carmel. Heck, I even took a nice shower this morning and it lasted longer than 30 seconds. I remember with Imri, I'd barely let the water wet me down before the guilt struck and I felt the need to go to him, even if he was sleeping in the car seat right in front of me.

Other than that, I am healing well and rapidly. I feel good. Still a lot of weight to come off but then, I expected that. At least the swelling has gone down. I won't be as foolish as I was after having Imri, but I'd love to wear my rings again. Ah well. I am grateful that Imri is in daycare ... I can't imagine doing this with a nearly two year old present.

Imri is slowly getting back to himself. He is definitely in the throes of the Terrible Twos but we are trying to get a handle on parenting this small person with new behaviours. As a friend of mine wisely said, "this is not who he is, it's just a phase he's going through". It must be awful to have so little within your control. I try to give him choices but he doesn't quite get the concept of "or" yet.

It's definitely challenging - last night he started crying for "dinner, dinner" and ran towards the kitchen just as John came to announce that dinner was ready. Imri then backed up and started crying "no, no!". So I told him that was fine, but mommy and daddy were going to eat "brats" (a favourite supper) and he could join us when he was ready - to which he danced back and forth, depending on which way I stepped. Towards him and he ran away - towards the kitchen and he too, went that way. Finally John just scooped him up and because he was hungry, he didn't do his new "help, I've fallen and I won't let you pick me up" trick.

I won't talk about the new "I'm not gonna go to sleep and you can't make me" stuff.

He's still a total lovebug though ... and we're hoping he will overcome this trauma in time and with our help and love. He's definitely affectionate with his sister but it's obvious that she's not his favourite person, either.

Time. Just time. And maybe some fine single malt, too.

Shana Tova!

May this New Year bring us all joy, happiness, and prosperity. And may all our dreams come to bountiful fruition ...

From Cloud 9 ...

Just a quick note to say that our daughter, Carmel Maor, was born via unexpected c-section on Tuesday. She weighed in at 6lbs, 9oz and is 19 & 7/8 inches long. She is beautiful! She does have a touch of jaundice but we are hoping it will pass quickly and not be anywhere as bad as Imri's was.

She is eating well and my nipples are rather mangled, but this too shall pass.

Imri entered the Terrible Twos while I was gone, replete with "NO!!!" and throwing himself on the floor as to hamper our ability to move him. Where do they learn that stuff? I'm sure he's never been to a WTO riot in DC yet. He alternates between giving his sister kisses and screaming "NO baby!!" when I come into his room in the morning. But at least he's forgiven me for leaving him ... he really had a tough time without mommy, despite the presence of grandparents and his dad.

My parents left today and while I am grateful for all they did and that they were here, it's nice to have the house back and to get our family back into a routine again.

Ahhh routine. I'm guessing that will return in 3-5 years or so.

My daughter is home. My daughter. Words I never thought I'd ever have a chance to say. The feelings of gratitude and over-whelmedness are beyond my inadequacy with language.

Will try to keep the Internets posted but bear with me, please.