It seems I have a little publicity thanks to The Tyee! Nice to have a mention.

I have just explored their site to figure out what it's all about and it looks extremely interesting. Thanks for pointing it out to me Trevor.

Today is Friday and not a day too soon. I now seem to have a job that puts me in a position to have my work continuously checked on. I'm trying to adjust and not take it personally - it's not meant to be. Nevertheless, I'm used to working independently, making my mistakes, and finding them in due time - never creating a disaster and learning from everything.
There is nothing too horrible about someone pointing out your mistakes if you are still figuring out your role in the whole scheme of the workplace. However, these days I get this insane amount of pride when I finish a project and don't hear a rolling chair behind me with a subtle clearing of a throat...

I find myself chanting a bit of a mantra to myself - "classes, school, Masters program... more doors are opening Ada".

It keeps me from getting down and wondering if I'm just an imbecile in wolf's clothing...

Whew! What a trip!

Franklin did so well on the plane! Of course, he didn't appreciate the whole plane safety routine during take-off and landing (I had to hold him close in the "burping position") but all in all it was a fun time.

As for the visit itself, it was good. Franklin had not seen D's parents since he was baptized in April. He is radically different now. Nevermind the mobility part of it, he has become a little tape recorder. He has been trying to repeat everything we say.

He has also, I should add, become a little bit of a drama queen. He seems to want to be so independent these days.
D and I have started to try to give him more autonomy (in a limited sense), such as let him pick out his own clothes and choose his dinner, but there are times when it feels like he's making a big deal out of nothing.

I shut the door before he wants me to, he screams. I don't let him play with a dangerous object, his world has ended.

The unfortunate part of this whole behaviour is that I find it hilarious. It is hard not to laugh while he's crying his sweet little eyes out over an empty sippy-cup that I'm not filling up fast enough.

I'm a horrible Mom, I tell ya.

I realize that reading someone's weblog gives very little insight to their actual personality and everyday life but every once and awhile I come across a site that makes me want to be friends with someone.

Mimi Smartypants is one of those people.

...blowjob stewardesses, futon sex, x-rated toy soundtracks, humping stuffed animals, and the sexuality of babies...

Oh, and by the way... the whole family (all 3 of us) are going for a short trip so I won't be posting for awhile.

Franklin can say "Daddy" (more like, "Daaaaaa-dee"), Jido, Taita, Julia (his daycare provider), Luca (a friend at daycare) and a growing repertoire of nouns in various levels of volume.

He doesn't, however, have "Mommy". I'm so eager to hear him say it. Perhaps this is silly but it will be so special to hear a little "Muuummmee? Muuummeee?" as he wakes up.

For now, when I try to introduce myself to him (I do this about 100 times a day) he smiles patiently and says, "Daaddddeee!"

sigh.

After looking at the Keeper website I came across sizing specifications that I was not aware of. Apparently, after childbirth I am no longer Style B, I now require Style A.

ok, sure

I was at the doctor's the other day and we discussed birth control. I asked about IUDs and she said they would be a good choice for me since I have had a baby now. (Although, funny enough, she was at our baptism class so we had a miniature theology discussion on conception, the rights of the fetus, and the Roman Catholic church...)

ok, sure

So, I am curious. What, exactly, happened to my body? I know the vague details but I want diagrams, flow-charts, literature, documentary footage...

Does anyone have any good websites?

The guy who has our old computer is holding all my email addresses ransom until we can fix it or find another computer to load everything onto it. As a result, there could be many people I owe email replies to but I wouldn't know it. I don't have the backlog of the mail, I don't have my address book, and I don't have a hardcopy of anything. - does anyone really do that?

Of course, all this wouldn't really matter if these people were to email me back asking me what the hell my problem was or if I even received the original email.
Miraculously, many people do not read this blog (gasp!) and may not even know about it. However, those that do... Geoff.... can you email me a fresh note so I can get back in touch? I want to know if you were able to follow my advice and take a stroll down Long Beach!

I want to thank everyone for their comments and emails lately.
It is nice to know that there are other, sane mothers who feel, or have felt, the same way as I do right now.

Telling L that other night was a bit of a release for me - which was further let go when I posted the other day. Although I usually don't use this blog as personal therapy (I don't think - but hell, who knows. I've never been the most self-aware person in the world), seeing my feelings on screen let me understand where a lot of the feelings come from. I certainly don't need to get into it here but I assure you, I'm fine.

... thanks.
I've got friends in places I didn't know I had - and I don't mean that in a creepy way at all.

On Monday night I got together with a girlfriend to talk about anything and everything. It was great to have some time with a good friend again - without wondering when the next feeding was, when Franklin would be waking up from his nap, or what I still need to do before I went go to bed. It was very relaxing and I had such a good time.

That night I also confessed about some feelings I have been having since Franklin was born. I have never loved anyone as much as I love Franklin. Being with him has taught me so much about myself - how strong and how weak I can be. I am extraordinarily lucky to have the honour of being his mother but these feelings bring with them a whole new set of fears that I have a hard time keeping under control.

I worry about something terrible happening to him. I worry about something happening to me while I'm with him and therefore can't protect him. Although he is growing up fast, he is still a helpless little baby. What happens if I get knocked unconscious and he falls down the stairs? What happens if someone breaks into the house and kills me/rapes me while he's there? or he's in his crib? or he's in the bath?

I can't control everything around us and I know how ridiculous it is to think that even to try will solve a thing but I get can get so worked up sometimes I can't go to sleep. I lay awake thinking of worst-case scenarios to the most horrifying things I can think of just so I can try to find a rectifying plan of action.

Tonight I have been putting together Franklin's emergency "comfort pack" to be stored at his daycare in case something happens and they have to evacuate the building. In a large sealed zip-lock bag I have been asked to include the following:

The combination of this "comfort pack" and the talk with my friend the other night has made me a very paranoid person this evening. I am now thinking of a whole new set of catastrophes that are possible at daycare. I am flabbergasted it has taken me this long to become aware of all these new scenarios and I am ashamed he didn't have an emergency pack sooner.

I don't have to ask if this panic feeling goes away. I know it won't. I just want to be able to fall asleep without the feeling of impending doom in my stomach and this lump in my throat.

Last night, D was watching hockey (oh joy...) with a friend of ours who has two small boys. He was saying that his older son, who is about two and half, can hear and identify a plane about 30 seconds before he can hear the faint rumble. Of course, this may be due to all the eardrum-popping concerts we've gone to, but the powers of observation in a child are quite amazing.

D and I took Franklin down to the beach this morning. We explored the rocks and fed the seagulls. Franklin had a great time - laughing his head off at all the greedy birds arguing over his cheerios.

Amazingly, from what seems like miles away, Franklin can spot a dog, bird, balloon, car or whatever else he is fixated on at the moment. It's amazing what he will notice compared to his parents - with our heads full of busy thoughts and crowded opinions.
So, while I'm furiously thinking about the lack of crosswalks across Dallas Road or the many fond memories of my dog, Franklin is taking everything in like a human sponge.

Franklin has some new tricks up his snotty, drool drenched sleeve...

He has entered into the strange, big, beautiful world of balloons.
He will ruthlessly search all his picture books for anything that might remotely look like a balloon. Whenever we are outside, he looks up in the air and points his finger like a spotlight scanning the sky for incoming miniature, brightly coloured hindenbergs. Whenever he spots any of the 4.8 billion balloons I have exhaustively blown up for him in the house he will yell out, "Baaaabbbbboooooooooooonssss!!"

As well, he has somehow learned to stick his finger up his nose. I'm not sure how he learned to do this - honestly, I don't. He will get a faraway look in his eyes and his hand will slowly creep up to his face, revealing a finger to crawl up the nostril. It's a fruitless endeavor. He doesn't bring any treasure out with him. I suppose it's just minor exploratory surgery.

I wonder if I can catch a picture of him in action. I'm absolutely positive he'll want a record of this one day...

There seems to be a mutiny growing among the parents at the daycare.

Many of us have been told that our children will not be able to move directly from the Infant Centre to the Toddler Centre. The danger of this had always been present, it is written in the policy. However, we were assured by the Infant Centre supervisor that they have an unwritten policy to keep the children past their 19 month birthday until they have a spot with other toddlers. When I was told there would be no spot for Franklin from May to September I immediately started looking and placing Franklin on the other waiting lists around the city once more. I accepted that sometimes, what you want doesn't always happen.

These other parents haven't seen this the same way. They feel that what they were assured by the supervisor (who no longer works at the centre) should be honoured. I doesn't matter that there could be no physical way to accomodate them. The manager should have thought of this beforehand. One solution would be to stop accepting any toddlers from the waiting list in order to hold spots for the upcoming infants - no matter if these infants will not be ready to move up for many months.

I certainly understand their frustration. I am reluctant to find Franklin a new place for only a couple of months. I don't want to move him just as he is settling into another centre. I'm sick of the soap opera that keeps occuring with this wait list crap. I think that when I find another place, he'll just stay there.

On the other hand, taking Franklin somewhere else will be hard on him. Although he does move on to another caregiver, he still will be familiar with his surroundings as the centre is right next door. I'll still be able to visit him on my lunch hour as well (like I said, I'm not willing to untie the strings until he's at least 16). The reasons that he will not be able to move up are a little dicey too. What is wrong with holding the spot like they had mentioned? Does it matter that we gave up a great centre to be able to take advantage of this "un-written policy"?

I think there will soon be a meeting with the manager. They have asked me to attend as well. I'm going but I feel sorry for this guy. He sure has a crappy job.

I have an uber-cool friend who lives in England (far, far, too far away for my liking) and is working as a nanny for her cousin. I used to work in a restaurant with her a couple of years ago and she was amazing with the kids.

Luckily, the young boy (who is very cute) she is looking after is a little older than Franklin and she has some wonderful recipe information for Franklin's "big-boy" food.

Not a minute too soon either! The grilled cheese sandwich we made him the other night went down strange and he ended up throwing up his entire dinner. Of course, he threw up his lunch at daycare the next day (torchio with cheese and veggie burger) so we thought he could be sick. He's at home with D today and doing well - apart from those teeth that are still coming through.

As well, this said chick from the UK has also hooked me on to another craft site! Of course, it's just what I needed, I have about a billion other craft pages bookmarked at the moment. Nevertheless, I see a whole bunch of cool stuff there that I'm itching to try!

Thanks Enajerd!

Questions I asked myself while listening to Franklin talk himself to sleep this afternoon:

1.) Who in my family takes baths? - and would therefore want bath-salts/fizzy balls/lotion/soap (which seems like an extremely simple craft)
2.) What can I possible make for Franklin's lunch in the coming week!?!? (He is becoming more and more resistant to being fed, preferring to feed himself)
3.) What will keep Franklin busy on my lap for an hour plane ride to Edmonton?!!?! (possibly a couple of cool books and some sort of electronic gadget toy? Ah, who am I kidding, this is an hour we're talking about.)
4.) When you're worried about a certain person's parenting abilities, where is that fine line drawn between interfering and helping?
5.) If I take four courses this semester (during my lay-off) and one or two each while I'm working, how long before I can actually call myself a proper Master's student?
6.) When was that last period of mine?
7.) Do I look like a Mom? Does D look like a Dad? Does Franklin look like our son?
8.) Silly perhaps, but it's still nagging me... what the hell is a mulligan?
9.) How can I start fitting in some exercise to my life?
10.) Does holding an increasingly heavy kid (aka "Frank-the-Tank") count as exercise?
11.) Where did the term, "the fourth estate" come from anyways?

... and I thought I'd have no time to ponder the big picture after a baby.