Dear goodness, it's been a year (almost)

Exactly one year ago, Chris and I sat in my hospital room,  trying to settle down and have one last quiet night before our lives were turned upside-down.

Tomorrow, my silly little girl will turn one. I now have a toddler running around my house, hiding combs in my winter boots.  When I try to evaluate how my life has changed over the past year, it's easy to think of the inconveniences: I rarely get to wake myself up in the morning; leaving the apartment is a giant ordeal; I can't go to the bathroom without a small creature scratching at the door; my carpet is perpetually covered in Cheerios; I can't sit down at the computer and write my dissertation while she's awake, because she wants to climb on my lap and bang on the keyboard.

But I'm so thankful that our family has grown by one small person. She's so joyful: every person she meets is her new best friend, and every spoon, potato and Kleenex box is an exciting new toy. She's thrilled about the existence of books, and I'm thrilled to have a small creature with whom I can snuggle on the couch and share my love of reading. She wanders the house singing (mostly she sings "doot doot doot"  with occasional trumpet sounds). I love watching my parents and in-laws interact with their grandchild, and seeing her bring out softness and sweetness in all of them, beyond what I've seen before.

I haven't changed as a result of motherhood as much as I presumed I would: somehow, a part of me expected that I would suddenly become a proper and level-headed Mom, full of wisdom,  and not as ridiculous as I usually am. Instead, I now realize that my child will likely make poop jokes at inappropriate times, and that it will be entirely because of me.

I resist the idea that parenthood is some absolute and necessary experience of adulthood and womanhood, just as I cringe when parents of multiple children state or imply that those with one child haven't experienced "real" parenting.  But this small person (who I still can't believe is my very own to keep) has changed me during this past year. I've started to learn how to love and accept this child on her own terms, to see her own personality and not just some person I want her to become. That lesson teaches me to love myself as well.

Happy birthday, Little Bug. Here's to a great second year.

On Leave

Last week I received word that my request for sick leave was approved, and applied retroactively to September. The university credited me this year's tuition, and I'll go back in the fall. In the meanwhile, my library card doesn't work, and I'm not supposed to be engaging in any research/academic work. (Ha.)

It's a strange feeling, suddenly having that weight off my shoulders. It's now okay that I've been useless for the past year. I've spent the year doing was doing what I was supposed to be doing: taking care of myself and my family. I was sometimes a little hard on myself about my lack of progress, because I know people who finished their dissertations in the midst of being pregnant and having a baby. Of course, I constantly have to remind myself that it's not fair to compare myself to anyone else, because I've been a rather exceptional case. (So exceptional, in fact, that I was granted leave after the terms of my extension explicitly stated that I didn't qualify for leave!)

It's funny how my brain is more full of ideas and strategies for finishing, now that I'm not registered. I'm going to get myself an alumni library card, since I qualify for one here. I'll start practising my German while the baby's napping, and since it requires the use of a headset microphone, I've ordered a baby monitor, and will watch the little lights for signs of the kid making noise. I'll also take this opportunity to review my primary sources, since it's been a while, and the review will be good for getting my brain going. That's all I'll really do this summer (and meet with my supervisor when we go back to the Island in the summer: he'll want to see the baby, and then we'll draw up a timeline for completion).

But I'm also going to allow myself some space. I'm on leave, and I'm going to make sure that I appreciate that. This is the first time I haven't been a registered student in a decade, and I want to take some time and enjoy being home with Li'l E.

This has all coincided with the good news that E won't need surgery (there was some concern, but it has thankfully turned out to be unfounded), and so we now have fewer health professionals in our lives, which means fewer appointments. (Okay, in the next few weeks, she has a physical therapy appointment, 6-month checkups with both her family doctor and her pediatrician, and then her next round of shots. But then we get a break!) More importantly, we no longer have that anxiety hanging over us, and we can just move on with our lives, dealing only with normal baby stuff.

And so I'm grateful for this bit of respite from all the craziness of the past year. Normal is a nice change from the usual.

I'll admit I've been keeping my cards close to my chest lately

Well, I didn't intend to disappear for such a long time! At first, right after I wrote that last post, I got very sick (as part of a series of stress-related illnesses), and stayed sick until the New Year. (Also, I got to try all kinds of powerful antibiotics, and may have experienced some rheumatic fever! Fun times at Christmas.) (As another aside, I am your perfect sick party guest: hobbling around, whining about "my rheumatiz." You guys missed a magical time.)

After I got home from that second trip home, my life was divided between the Bloggable But Stressful (Get the crazy chapter under control and come up with a workable plan for finishing soon!) and the Very Unbloggable Thanks To IRL People Reading This Blog (Let's apply for work closer to home! What if we start a family now?). Some days, it felt like every decision we were facing were some of the biggest decisions we'd ever made in our lives. And somehow they seemed so much scarier than the Big Decisions we made before (or maybe we were younger and more flippant than we are now.) Get married? Sounds like a wonderful plan! Move across the country for grad school? Hey, why not? Sounds fun. (Oh, to be 24 years old again.)

But now, we've made some decisions, finalized plans, and have even announced them on Facebook (you know, after I told people in person first, because I'm not a monster). We're moving home, and I'm pregnant!

Dear goodness, those words are simultaneously exciting and terrifying.

I seriously can't believe this is all happening. And I know that "I'm pregnant and we're moving home to the prairies" sounds like the beginning of a novel about giving up on your dreams, but both of these really feel like the fulfillment of life-long dreams for us. We got Chris a good job in our hometown, in the same city as our entire families. And, barring something major happening, we're staying there. I'm insanely determined to get this dissertation finished, and then I'll figure out what I'm doing. It's been years since I realised that I wasn't cut out for the tenure-track life, but I'll carve my own path. I love working with students, and I'd love to do something university- or research-adjacent. There will be something for me (and it's not urgent for me to find it: the top priority is finishing the dissertation and having this baby; Chris will be making enough to support us until I find something).

There's this part of me that fears some people will think I'm crazy for having a baby right now (well, at the end of December), or that I'm somehow wasting all this education by not aggressively pursuing a tenure-track position. Or that I'm crazy for having a baby at a point when I don't qualify for EI maternity pay. (But do you know how long it would be until I would qualify? And seriously: we'll be financially fine.)

Okay. Enough (heading-towards-an-outie) navel-gazing. I'll save the crazy medical details (How I've Spent The Past Month In Doctor's Waiting Rooms, and Why I Keep Baffling Medical Professionals*) for another post.

In honour of the move back to the homeland, let's finish off with an old school Question Time!

Time? 1:39pm

Surroundings? I'm in my office, surrounded by dirty dishes, kleenex boxes, and scraps of printed off translation material. (By the way, I have a cold, and the inability to take cold medicine: pure torture.)

Tea? Murchies Library Tea. (Why no, I haven't completely cut out caffeine. Why yes, I do know about the risks, but I also have read a terrifying number of medical journal articles and stay well under the safe limit.)

Wearing? Pyjamas, rubber-soled slippers, TARDIS bathrobe, hair that is standing straight on end. (It might be time to bathe soon.) (Uh, you guys, I just found out how much my sister spent on my new bathrobe...)

Stuck in my head? "A Hundred and One Pounds of Fun" from South Pacific. Because I forced Chris to watched the movie with me this weekend, and this is what I get in return. Mitzi Gaynor's voice in my head for the rest of my life.

What am I most thankful for? My Christopher. He's been phenomenal lately, doing all the cooking and cleaning (in addition to dealing with the madness of the end of the school year), since I've been so sick, sore and tired for the past couple of months. He's a good'un.


* Working title.

Unexpectely Homeward Bound

Chris and I are packing up, and tomorrow morning we're flying to Saskatchewan for an unplanned trip home. Normally, I'd be thrilled about the fact that I'm getting a week and a half back home, in addition to the two weeks we'll have at Christmas. But this is a trip that none of us wanted us to have to take: we're heading home for the funeral of my little brother's beautiful, funny, wonderful wife.

This is pretty closely connected to why there's been silence at this here blog lately.  Well, for the first while I was just wrapped up in research and writing, in restructuring some dissertation plans and all that.  But then we found out that my sister-in-law was sick, and out of respect to the more private members of my families, I kept all that off the blog. But it was all I could really think about, and so it was easier just to maintain radio silence here.

And then suddenly she was gone, and we hardly had any time to prepare ourselves for the idea. But tomorrow, I get on an airplane, and for a week and a half I'll be able to make myself useful to my family. I'm still trying to prepare myself emotionally for being home, and for how much more real this is going to become for me. But it'll be better for me to be able to help, instead of wandering around aimlessly here, bursting into tears while holding the soup bowls she gave me for Christmas a few years ago. 

So, we'll see whether I keep up any blogging while I'm home.  But I thought, in the spirit of the holiday that our American friends are celebrating today, that I'd mention a few reasons why I'm thankful today.  I'm thankful for my amazing friends, who have been overwhelming me with their love and very concrete support over the past few days.  I'm thankful for airplanes, unlimited phone plans, and computers that make the distance between here and home seem to be not as great.  I'm thankful that I have a Christopher who takes care of me every day, and has even managed to make me laugh a few times this week.  I'm thankful for my amazing family.  And I thankful that one beautiful girl came into our lives and changed us, even though she left us decades too soon.

Last day

Our suitcases are all packed.  I just finished a list of everything we need to do tomorrow morning.  I can't believe that our last full day in Saskatchewan is over now, and it'll probably be another year until we get out here again.

It's a strange place to be, at this point of every summer, when I've had too little sleep, have done too little work, and have not always been the best version of myself because I'm not getting a lot of time to myself.  I'm longing for my bed and my own routine, and at the same time it's hard to face the fact that it'll likely be more than eleven months until I'm in this house again. 

This was a funny summer, because I really only saw immediate family and a few really close friends, and didn't really venture further than that.  There are a few friends whom I didn't even get a chance to contact this time.  That's a first for me.  This week, I spent a lot of time finding ways to stay home and be with my family.  I originally planned to invite people over for a barbecue tonight, but instead Chris and my mom went for a bike ride, while my dad and I watched a football game while I packed.  We were all happier that way. 

And now I'll stop rambling and go to bed.  I'll see you all either in Alberta or BC, folks. 

To Papa

Always with the photos

Mom was trying to show me her new haircut over Skype, but Dad kept being a trouble-maker in the background. And so I told him that if he kept it up I'd use the "Print Screen" button and show people how silly he really is.  (With bonus "Maryanne Looks Demented" in the corner.)

Mom

To the woman who chats with me every morning, while I'm sitting under my SAD lamp and she's finishing her coffee and crossword puzzles.  Who has put up with every annoying nickname from my siblings and me.  Who saw an art installation that looked like tulips with a canoe on top and said "Take a picture of me standing under that thing."  Who takes care of everyone, far beyond just our immediate family. 

Happy Mother's Day.  I miss you, Mom. 

Precious Pat

On Tuesday, we loaded up into the car and drove to Comox (taking the scenic route) to visit Precious Pat.

Pat is the most energetic 87 year old I've ever met. She sleeps in a fifth-wheeler (so that she still has space of her own), hauls chairs up the stairs, and the last time we tried to visit her, she was away to Costa Rica. And she's a wildly good story-teller (which should not be a surprise, since that's pretty common on that Irish side of the family): she started off one of her best stories with the words: "Mr. Humphries (he owned the sugar factory)..." I wanted to have a video camera set up all the time, so as to capture the brilliance of it all.

She's surrounded by a big and cheerful family, all of whom love and dote on her. She calls everyone in her family cute nicknames, referring to her 60-year-old contractor son as "Cy-boy," and her bearded father-of-four grandson as "Jo Jo." When we drove away from their house, we looked back to see the whole extended family standing on the porch and waving at us.

Pat loves everyone around her, calling us "precious," and informing everyone that my Dad's a genius and a "big shot." (We started calling her "Precious Pat" because she walked up to my brother at a church camp -- at a time when he didn't know who she was -- and said to him, "Michael [Ourlastname]. Precious.")

And, from certain angles, and with certain inflections of her voice, she reminds me so much of my Little Grandma. (Which shouldn't be entirely a surprise, since Pat is Grandma's cousin.) Being around her made me miss Grandma, and I had to give Pat extra hugs because of it.

Today was a big day

I took Mom to all my favourite spots downtown today (read: tea shops, A Little Bit of Hanoi,* the touristy parts of Chinatown, and Capital Iron). It was so fun; we got so much tea, and Mom got a nice purse from Chinatown and some scarves from A Little Bit of Hanoi. Mom had me take her picture all over downtown.

And then when I got home, Chris and Dad were building robots, which means that Dad had a lot of firsts today:
1.) He saw the Johnson Street Bridge raise to let a sailboat through ("That's amazing!" he keeps saying.)
2.) Pocky
3.) Lego Mindstorm
4.) Pulled pork sandwiches


It was a pretty big day for Dad. He's in a good mood after all that. (He's also getting all geared up to go visit his mom's cousin who lives up island. We call her Precious Pat, and she's the sweetest little thing. I'm excited to see her Hobbit Hole house again.)

Now I'm going to put my feet up and have another cup of tea, since I was walking all day. I'm going to have more of my new tea: Murchies has a new blend of tea that they released in time for the Olympics (and so they called it the 2010 blend). Darjeeling with jasmine? Yes please.

* By the way, anyone who is anywhere near Victoria should a.) check out that link above, and b.) go see Luanne at A Little Bit of Hanoi in Market Square. She's the best. She always remembers me when we go to see her store, and today she hugged me when she saw me and immediately guessed that it was my Mom that I'd brought.

Ready to go to bed and it's only 8:45...

...but it's good having my parents here. We had a warm and sunny day today, and so Mom, Dad and I sat out in my backyard without any jackets, enjoying the sun and playing with Dad's GPS and my camera. The furthest afield we got was to the beach by my house, but that was perfect on such a sunny and clear day: we watched sailboats and people running around in shorts, and marveled at the fact that it's just the first weekend of March.

Posting while Blogger lets me

Has anyone else been having trouble with accessing Blogger blogs for the past few days? It's been off-and-on for me.

I've been continuing to move in slow motion for this week, as I slowly recover from this cold. But it has to be gone after today: my parents fly in tomorrow morning! I may be excited about this. Actually, it doesn't even feel real; it's been months since I last saw them, and years since they were last here.

We've planned for everything by now, thanks to my Dad's love of even planning his spontaneity (and the fact that he's been planning this trip for more than a year): visits with friends and a day trip to Comox Valley (with a detour along the scenic route on the way up) have been planned to the minute. We also know which days we'll leave open for touring around or resting (depending on what Dad needs). I know pretty much exactly when Dad's oxygen tank will be delivered, and have a pdf from their airline that tells me which seats they've booked.

It's one part excitement, one part this-is-Dad's-first-flight-since-his-trach, and one part Classic Dad and Mom. And Chris wonders why I need time to pack for trips, and end up packing for every possible weather we might encounter.

Edited to add: The oxygen guy arrived, and was amused by how well-organized the arrangements are. He referred to my house as "Command Central."

And edited again to add: While I was writing this post, my dad posted this on his blog, which proves my point quite nicely. (My father is adorable.) This visit will be conducted with military precision.

Over and out.

Eagerly anticipating

My mom and dad are flying out here to visit in early March! We've been scheming about this for a long time, but Dad finally booked the plane tickets on Wednesday and so now we're making definite plans.

I can't begin to explain how excited I am about this. Mom and Dad have only been out here once, four years ago. We had somewhat made plans for them to come the next year (or at least Dad and I did), but then Dad got really sick, and then after his tracheostomy he wasn't sure about all the logistics of traveling with his medical equipment. But now, nearly three years after the trach, Dad has strengthened enough and has gotten used to his medical equipment enough that he's braving the flight out here. It's a pretty big milestone in Dad's recovery, and it makes me happy.

I'm also excited to show my parents Victoria, now that we know the city so much better (when they were last here, we didn't even know that there was a beach within walking distance of our house; they found that for us). I'm worried that, in my excitement, I'll over-plan the week and thus kill my father. And so I'm also trying to plan breaks for Dad, including a day off for him in which he'll hang out with Chris at the house (as it's Chris's Spring Break that week), and I'll take Mom walking downtown and to Chinatown.

I have something to look forward to. And I now know that I'll be taking a week off in early March, and so I'd better work accordingly.

To my Mama

Today is my mother's fifty-fifth birthday (well, only for three more minutes where she lives, but still). I've decided to mark the occasion by posting one of the only pictures I have of just the two of us (I find this fact to be unusual). Here you see twenty-seven-year-old Mom, back when she wore quasi-cowboy shirts and glasses the size of dinner plates, with one-year-old(ish) me, back when I wore my dinner all over my face and looked like my Grandpa. (Those of you who've seen what I look like now know that I look more like Mom than Grandpa now.)

Happy birthday, Mama. And Happy Being Able To Order Off The Seniors' Menu at Denny's Now.

Personal connections with history

Four years ago (just after we moved out here), I got a bunch of phone calls from family members telling me that I really ought to have been at our recent family reunion in Saskatchewan: at the reunion, my Grandma's cousin Muriel revealed that she'd worked closely with Neville Chamberlain and Winston Churchill in the British Cabinet War Rooms during the Second World War. Until about 2005, everything about her work in World War II had been classified information, and now that it was declassified she was in demand for interviews. (In fact, she'd been on her way to London to be interviewed for a documentary when the July 2005 London bombings occurred.)

This information has always been a little surreal to me, processing the fact that this sweet little British woman I'd met at family gatherings had worked closely with Prime Ministers in the Key Points Intelligence Service, had worked in Churchill's secret bunker, and then spent six decades not telling anyone about it.

Dad called today to tell me that this week Muriel's been interviewed by a bunch of major newspapers, coinciding with a new exhibition of the War Rooms. This is the first article he found, and then we found this one, and then this information about the exhibition.

I'm so glad that her stories are getting out now. And I finally have some documentary evidence to support my assertions when I cite "my Grandma's cousin Muriel" as informing me that Neville Chamberlain was already preparing to go to war with Germany when he made the Munich Pact of 1938; he was just trying to buy more time for Britain before they went to war, because they'd been so badly hit by the Depression.

So, I find that all to be cool.

Update: My dad just sent me this article he found that has more of Muriel's story, as she was relating it to some schoolchildren in Bath (where her daughter lives, I believe). It's still strange to hear her referred to as "Churchill's secretary."

Update 2: In response to hearing that Grandma's cousin was Churchill's secretary, Chris exclaimed "You're only three degrees of separation from Hitler!" Thanks honey.

I managed not to post any pictures from the actual wedding yesterday

...and so for the benefit of a certain relative who lives in Ukraine, here is the best picture I have* of Michael and Nicole's wedding:

And here's my best picture of them smiling (even though it's not a very good picture):


*Between my wonky camera, the photographer positioning himself right in front of me during the wedding, and the fact that I was purposely sitting very far to the side, I'm going to be mostly relying on other people's pictures of the wedding.

My brother done got hitched today

There are still lots of people back at the reception, but we had house guests and had to leave before the end. (Also: long day = feet hurt.)

Here are a few highlights from the day (but apparently not from the actual wedding, upon reflection):

The wedding and reception were in a museum, with the reception actually being in the exhibit area. This was simultaneously really, really cool and fairly tricky. Cool: interactive exhibits made for extra entertainment, and the site is gorgeous. Tricky: no plant material (including flowers) in the exhibit area. But who's worried about corsages when there are police cars, motorcycles and Mountie costumes around?

There were Mountie costumes just around the corner from where we were holding the reception. Constant source of fun.

Also, Mom managed to wear a dress that matched the wedding cake. She was just trying to coordinate with the walls.

Finally: remember the dress I was intending to wear to the wedding? So, I ended up wearing this little purple number instead, and now need to find an occasion for wearing the colourful go-go dress: