May, 2009

Witty’s Lagoon, originally uploaded by TT_MAC.

On Friday, on my way to pick up Franklin from school, I got a call that Eliza had thrown up. I knew a call like this was bound to happen. This is what happens when you stick a group of children next to each other – they swap bodily fluids – some of it is harmless, some of it causes puke.

So the weekend wasn’t all that great. Dickson got sick on Sunday morning and Franklin got sick on Sunday night. I didn’t get sick until Tuesday afternoon which is typical. I got to clean up all the puke and just when I started to think that I had avoided the whole mess and I replace my facebook profile with a photo of Wonder Woman, I break down at 4pm and drag this nauseous hero home.

Eliza has been sick more than any of us. She seems to be recycling the illness throughout the house all week. Every time we think it’s a brand new morning and we’re all going to lick this thing, someone pukes or has stomach cramps. She’s also been a bit of a whiny bucket of blech.

How’s that for a metaphor?

However, out of the two kids, the one I feel the most sorry for is Franklin. We had big plans that were continually dashed due to the 2009 May Puke Festival of Sustainability. Aikido on Friday was canceled so we could dash up the hill to pick up his sister. Monday’s school trip to Witty’s Lagoon (see above photo) was missed because all he had energy for was watching Lego Builds on youtube. All week while he stayed at home with Eliza and I, or Dickson, he took a back seat to the moaning and groaning of a teething, puking toddler. Not that he particularly minded that last part as it gave him free reign to create lego contraptions and then rehearse reviews of his creations in the same manner of the lego geeks/designers on lego.com.

Here, geek out to this nugget…

This weekend we are going OUTSIDE.
We will see OCEAN.
We will ride BIKES.
We will NOT PUKE.

(knock on wood)

Walter and Donny, originally uploaded by Ada I dirtyolive.

I love this photo. It is an excellent representation of the two of them. Even the fact that Franklin’s a little blurry and in the background and totally concentrating on something other than what’s going on around him – even though I’m calling his name at the moment.

I love my two radically different kids.

Calabash tomato, originally uploaded by hksaa.

We visited the garden today to do a little watering. Many of the other plot renters have either transplanted their seedlings already or their seeds are coming out of the ground. For some reason, I seem to have stage fright. I’m not willing to part with my ever increasing stash here at home – no matter how much I complain about them over taking the house.

I’ve got waaay too many kale. I’ve sunburned my endangered, heritage tomato seedlings and I’ve neglected to label anything so as far as I know I’ll be planting my pumpkin with my zucchini and my spaghetti squash with my cucumber. Did you know they all look quite similar?

Yeah. They do.
Of course, they all look similar when all they have are the two first sprouts. I had everything in neat rows and everything clear in my head until things got a little jostled and I stared moving the tray around to catch the most light and and and

We are going to have some mighty funky pumpkins this year.

And maybe no tomatoes. Will they come back? Tomatoes are such wusses. Who needs them.

We will have a butt load of kale though. This is the part where my friend starts to tell me about her Mom’s sausage and kale stew soup thing. I’m sure it’s great but that title doesn’t really make me salivate. I’m a simple girl. I like my oil, garlic and chili flakes. I like to over cook them until they are crispy and I like to put only enough oil to prevent burning. I like to bring them to work and pretend they are potato chips.

Argh. I’m tired. I’ve been going to bed at 8pm most nights – the nights I’m not up at all hours doing work, that is. I’ve got to say, the whole getting everyone out of the house on time isn’t as hard as I thought it would be as we’ve done it to get Franklin to school on time since September. However, the sitting and the files and the typing and the candy and the getting up to get another cup of tea is really wearing me out. Seriously. I’m bone tired most nights. Weird, eh?

Anyway, I’m going back to bed. I fell asleep with Franklin with the doors unlocked and the pansy-assed tomatoes outside so now that everything is secure and the plants aren’t whining I’m off to bed.

I have a post coming about the whole Eliza preference thing and how it’s coming. I’ve got a few emails asking about our strategies and I got one kick ass email from my friend, Jennifer, so I’m ready to write it.

Tomorrow. Maybe. K?

Tomato leaf, originally uploaded by whatsthatpicture.

A cold spring is such an odd place to be for me. In the past, I was usually mentally spanking myself for not getting my soil ready or not starting the seedlings in time. However, this year I find myself more than ready. I’m so ready I’m crowding my family out of the dining room because it’s got the biggest window with which to host the 64 tomato, 45 pumpkins, 28 squash, 798 kale pots in various sizes and my marigold Franklin gave me for Mother’s Day.

I’ll take a photo of it all at some point. Promise.

I’m sure Dickson would love for me to be able to get these things out of the house as well. The smushed up, sticky cherry blossoms that track into the house with my constant trips in and out and in and out as I try to harden the little fuckers up are kind of wearing out the floor – not to mention the husband.*

To make matters worse, Mother’s Day was so nice that my hardening lasted all day. It wasn’t that the day was nice, but I was distracted with my family nice. As a result, the tomatoes got all grumpy and felt left out. They decided to turn their leaves white and I immediately felt plant mother’s guilt so they haven’t left the safety of the window since. They are coming back but… that’ll teach me to pay more attention to the humans! Close one!

*(I did come home today during my lunch to try and clean a bit up and managed to vacuum** before deciding to plant a few more seedlings into more pots so there’s that, right?)

**(There’s that plus the fact that my co-workers think I’m a Stepford wife as I announced that I had gone home NOT to drink gin and run around naked*** but to actually vacuum. I’m a walking pregnancy control centre.)

***(I did tell people on twitter that I was running around naked in all the glorious silence that an empty house can give but I lied. My spare time left after vacuuming and planting was spent eating sushi while surfing house prices in the southern Halifax peninsula.****)

****Don’t ask.

Yin Yang, originally uploaded by LAKO1.

Of course, along with the great high of last Friday where I expounded on the greatness of professional childcare and my ever loving devotion to educated care givers around the world, comes the lows.

Eliza likes childcare, really she does. Diane, other care givers, other parents… they all tell me that after I leave she stops crying almost right away and goes off in search of a ball, a car, a zebra, to slide down the ramp mat or to find the coveted unicorn horse thingy with jingle wheels (toys are wierd). It’s a whole bunch of fun there and I know she has fun because while I’m there with Franklin she’s practically dragging him around to show him everything (actually, it goes both ways. Franklin has a blast there). However, when it’s time to go… it breaks my heart. Watching her cry on Diane shoulder as I walk out of there isn’t easy.

All of that hasn’t changed since last week, however. What has changed is her opinion of me and it’s not very favorable.

She has decided – since I’m the one who drops her off – that she doesn’t really like me all that much anymore. She much prefers Dickson – who picks her up everyday. This is our theory on her behaviour, anyway. It has made me feel both mentally and physically crushed. I remember how exhausting it was when Franklin went through this stage and only wanted me. I feel bad for Dickson but I still feel horrible. I know it’s only a stage. I’ve been reading up on it and we’ve been working on at least not fostering the behavior and making it worse. This has worked somewhat and tonight I got to get her ready for bed, read her stories and sing her to sleep all without protest. I even got a snuggle and a few kisses.

So it’s a stage and hey! the bright side! I get a lot more time with Franklin and other things get done while Dickson does all the changing and comforting for the little girl. Our floors are clean! The laundry’s done! I’m working full time and we have a clean kitchen!

Argh.
I’m trying to be positive about it all but you know what? Although I value the opportunity to work and I truly believe in professional childcare, it sucked this morning. It really sucked.

closed for maintenance, originally uploaded by maciek zygmunt.

Eliza is doing so so much better. What a difference a week makes! I can’t believe it. But then again, I can. She’s a fighter, she’s a survivor but most of all, she’s a kid that needs the stimulation and she gets that there – in abundance.

Much like Franklin, Eliza has a tendency to observe her surroundings before jumping in. She spent the better part of the week observing (with a few tears) but today there was action. Yesterday, there was even a few more words and some sign language!

This is the thing about the childcare centre we are at – the child care centre I used up two years worth of vacation in order to wait it out for a spot. She’s blossoming. I’m not selling myself short here, I know she had a wonderful time home with me but the visible changes in her over the course of this week are incredible. The confidence, the sparkle, the pride!

Basically, in the drama of leaving her with someone other than myself, I had forgotten how wonderful childcare actually is for the child. I think I got wrapped up in the “Good Mother” debate that I somehow seemed to avoid when Franklin went into care. Perhaps because it was almost a reality that I would be staying home with her that I entertained the idea? Perhaps I had talked to too many people that were staying at home and who thought I was “on their side”? – oh why oh why is there even A SIDE?

Whatever the case, she’s doing well and for everyone who has tried to subtly (and not so subtly) tell me that it is really better that I stay at home anyway and “wouldn’t it be difficult to leave her?” well, you have to see this to understand. It’s not a matter of new toys and other children – although this is part of it. It’s a matter of professional child care providers and early childhood education at work. It’s also a matter of care givers who have breaks, who get a full night’s sleep and who have nothing else to do than play and teach your child – no laundry, no dinner, no email…

I’m not saying mothers who stay at home are not stimulating their children. I’m not saying my way is better. However, I’m also not saying that everyone has a different situation depending on their kid – like I normally do.

Here’s the thing:
I think everyone, every parent and child, would benefit from a program like Eliza and Franklin have experienced. I also think every parent would benefit from a place to go during the day (if only for a short time) that stimulates their brain and gives them a portion of life that they can be proud of that does not involve their children – something that is theirs, done for someone else other than their family.

I love working. I think I would actually pay someone to give me work that stimulated my brain like this. I love what child care is doing and will do for Eliza and Franklin. Perhaps I’m being a little too dogmatic in saying everyone would benefit from this but this is truly how I feel.

After rain, originally uploaded by roseinthedark.

So far, the introduction to childcare has been going well – you know, considering. Still, we are all feeling a little emotionally fragile right now. Even Franklin.

Yesterday was the first time both Franklin and I left Eliza at the centre before heading off to his school. I had talked to him about being positive and leaving with a smile and a promise that we will be back. I’m sure that he understood the concept but he later remarked that he didn’t think it would be so hard.

We all don’t like to see Eliza get upset. Her sweet, sparkling face looks so alarmingly different when she’s sad. When we walked out the door yesterday, I had one little girl holding tightly to her caregiver while looking unbearably sad and another little boy who was leaving with the most fake smile in the history of fake smiles. The boy is not an actor. He was sad too.

Our walk to school was a nice opportunity to talk about how she was going to be fine. Still, he wanted to pick her up with me. He wanted to be there to show her he was always going to come back as well. She is such a lucky little girl to have such a beautiful and empathetic brother.

This morning was a little better. We went early so the two of them (Franklin and Eliza) had time to explore the place together. When it was time to go, Eliza had tears but Franklin was much more chipper. He took her sad face in his hands and gave her a kiss on the lips. Then he picked up his hat and shoes and said, “Goodbye, Eliza! See you later! HAVE FUUUN!!!” in his most excited voice ever.

Too bad I accidentally whacked his head with the doorknob on our way out causing him to have to sit down for a minute in the lobby.

Way to go, Mom.

This afternoon, while waiting in line to pay for my coffee, I overheard some people talking about the “food movement” – how people are only now thinking about growing food themselves and starting vegetable gardens in their backyards. There was a tone of scorn in their voices. These two had obviously been growing food in their backyards for quite a while now. They were commenting on how “local is the new organic”.

I’ve heard this before – the local / organic comparison and the scorn. Really, what’s the difference? So it’s the “in thing” to grow your own food. Isn’t that what we have been trying to tell people for so long? Why, once everyone seems to get it, do we look at them with such disgust. Is it because of the way they got the message? Is it because people are not convinced this trend will stay around? What does any of this matter? Why are we running around trying to tell people the benefits – socially, physically, psychologically – of growing our food and then spitting on their efforts?

Lets be happy they are digging up their back yards (or front yards), replacing the annuals with tomatoes and finally learning how to turn their compost. If one out of twenty of these trend setters catches on and keeps growing their own food it is a victory. If one child sees where his or her carrots come from, how they grow and how they taste fresh from the dirt, it is a victory.

Isn’t it?

here come the first true leaves on the kale, originally uploaded by redmudball.

This afternoon in the garden, to build what I had thought was the last raised bed before planting season, I brought my leggy kale to transplant outside. I don’t have a lot of light in my place and I’m too cheap this year to spring for a grow light so everything seems leggy.

I’ve transplanted the ridiculously long zucchini into bigger pots as their roots were taking over the neighbouring marigolds. I’ve also transplanted and slowly hardening the tomatoes. The kale needs help though. I didn’t plant them in the garden this afternoon because it still seemed too cold and as a few observers said when they peered into my shoebox, “they are too young, too wee.”

Sigh. Back to the meager light they went. I hope they survive until it gets warmer. I’ll try replanting them in larger pots to shorten their necks.

I’ve never started this many indoor seedlings before. More than a dozen tomatoes – two kinds. Zucchini, peppers, marigolds, kale, pumpkin, cucumber… there are a few more but my mind is really not on the garden tonight. It is only the first thing I thought of when I went in search of a photo that captured my hectic and full day.

Tomorrow is my first day at work. I can’t believe I’m already returning to work. I’m not going to school. We can’t afford the tuition at the moment – the tuition I still owe and the tuition that would be required. So it’s only work. Work and a garden to keep my mind occupied while my children navigate their own ways – without me putting her to sleep for her naps and without me stopping by at lunch recess to watch him play.

I know in my heart that this is good. I understand that this will be hard. I’m still anxious and nervous and sad. Yes, I’m sad.