Normalcy

My parents were here for just over three weeks. While it was a really nice visit, it really seemed like a long time. We made all sorts of tentative plans while they were still in China, but everything seemed to crumble as they got here. My brother, who lives in Chicago, couldn't get any confirmation on his time-off schedule, my Dad ended up having to have a couple of medical tests that had to be spaced out throughout their trip. B's work schedule was all thrown off with the changes he went through, too. So, in the end, it seems like we just hung out at the house for 3 weeks, with a couple of fun activities thrown in.

While we didn't actually do anything out of the ordinary, having both of your parents living in your house for several weeks will throw a wrench in your daily routine. They drove me to work nearly every morning and picked me up from work every afternoon, so they could have use of the car during the day. Not having a car at your disposal during the day doesn't seem like it would be a big deal, because 80% of the time, I stay at my office. But not having the option of driving off on my own whenever necessary was awfully disconcerting! First world problems and all, but it was really nice to drive myself to work, park my car in the parking lot, and know that I can drive to outside counsel's office today [not that I'll need to...].

Overall, it was a really nice visit. Lots of downtime, nothing was rushed, and I think my Dad really had himself a nice vacation from his pretty demanding job [and my Mom had a nice vacation from living in China, with multiple trips to Target and the Outlets thrown in for good measure]. Judging from his vacation beard, it must have been relaxing.

Now that my parents are gone and with the the sex of Baby #2 revealed (girl! if you missed it), I'm starting to focus on what we need to do to prepare for her arrival. There are very few things, but some will require some time (like taming Mia's tazmanian devil bedtime habits -- more on that in another post, I'm sure). It is weighing on my mind a bit that I still have over 4 months to go with this pregnancy, and that seems like an awfully long time right now. I'll have to start planning a couple of things between now and then to break up the time. My Mom will be back in mid-November, just before my due date, and my Dad and brother are planning on coming back for Christmas this year. Lots to look forward to, but for now, returning to normalcy sounds pretty good to me too.

On adding a second to the mix

It's the eternal question. Once you get married, everyone asks themselves, when do we have a kid? You think of a million things. Finances, living situation, job situation, whether you have the time, the energy, the stability. When B and I first got married, we started trying 4 months later, and got pregnant immediately. We didn't think about it much, we threw caution to the wind and decided that there was never a good time to have a baby, so now was as good a time as any. Never, not a single moment of my life, have I ever regretted it. Not for a single moment do I wish we had postponed our decision, even while my closest friends have yet to do any baby making of their own.

Now that Mia is 2 1/2, my body is starting to physically feel ready to become pregnant again. Not that I'm back in tip top shape or anything, but I feel normal. Normal at my new, pudgy size, and comfortable. I'm healthy, I'm physically well, flexible, strong. I've been keeping up with a yoga DVD 2-3 times a week. Nothing complicated, nothing terribly challenging, but my body is feeling good. 

The rest of me is starting to come around to the idea of adding this mythical second child into the mix. B and I are ready to love someone else, to take care of someone else. We're probably not ready for the lack of sleep, constant attention, and general high maintenanceness of a baby, but honestly, nobody every is. What we are ready for, though, is for that mythical non-existing second child to grow into a toddler, a child, a generally awesome member of the family. And that's what you're really getting, isn't it? Once you're out of the baby phase, the cute, cuddly, exhausting baby phase, you're getting an energetic, wonderful child. 

That part, I do feel ready for. I do. But the part that requires a larger car, a second daycare payment, and dividing my attention away from my very real, very clingy two year old? That, I am not ready for. The former two reasons, practical considerations... it's just money. It can be worked out, with time, it will be just fine. But the latter, 3rd reason? This part is what I still struggle with.

Of course, I know what the benefits are of having a sibling. A playmate for life, another family member, someone to team up with against your parents, someone to share Christmas morning with, and everything else that comes along with that. But I am so scared that adding another kid would take away so much of what Mia gets now. Undivided attention, no competition for lap space, time, patience, praise, everything. I feel so guilty for taking some of that away from her. She won't understand, and I'm terrified of how she'll react. In reality, and in my heart, I know she'll be fine. She's a sweet, sweet girl, who tucks her dolls in and shows empathy. She may have a wicked temper, but she always wants everyone to be happy.

In reality, it's not her I'm worried about, it's me. A big part of me wants to give all my time, attention, love to her and only her. But another, equally large part of me wants another sweet, loving, sassy, happy human being to join our happy little family. Someone for all three of us to love. 

Weekend most ordinary

B works almost every Saturday, getting maybe one off every month. Usually, I mark the calendar for those Saturdays weeks in advance and plan something exciting. This Saturday, the plan was to take the one hour drive to the small town of Pahrump, NV and spend the afternoon having lunch at their winery and touring the vineyards. But, Saturday something even more rare than B having a Saturday off occurred: it rained in Las Vegas. Although it wasn't any kind of torrential rain, just a nice pleasant drizzle, it still wasn't something that we wanted to be out in all day.

I tried to come up with a few contingency plans. We thought of the Discovery Children's Museum, the Natural History Museum, but it occurred to us that every other family in Las Vegas would be there too. So, instead, we had the most ordinary weekend you could imagine, and it was glorious. We did eventually get dressed, in our finest casual wear for a trip to my favorite new place, where Mia got way too excited in the children's section. We read about 8 books, but only got through the first three pages before she wanted  to move on to the next book on the shelf at her height. I picked out a Madeline and an Olivia book to bring home for her, but her short attention span continued at home that night too. I kept right on reading Madeline despite her protests because it was my fave as a kid, and besides, I wanted to know the ending. Later that afternoon, I planned out all dinners for the week from the South Beach Diet Cookbook (still going strong -- 13 lbs down!) and we headed to the grocery store.

The Little Miss after her 3 1/2 hour nap on Saturday, not happy about being woken up.

Sunday, more of the same. A long walk with the dogs avoiding puddles, reading, knitting, playing, but mostly lounging and mostly in my slippers and yoga pants. The perfect way to spend a weekend. We'll go to that winery next time, but surprisingly, this Monday morning, I feel extremely satisfied with the two days we spent at home.

Holiday around the corner

This morning, after reading several holiday facebook and blog posts, I realized that we've been so focused on the move (T-5 days) that I have totally forgotten to get excited about the holidays. Well, not completely since I did pick out Mia's gift from Santa from the Target toy catalog, but since I spent the weekend wearing my sherling-lined slippers, even Las Vegas is reminding me that the Holidays are a-comin'.

Since my time at home has been totally dominated by cardboard boxes, plastic bins and permanent markers, sitting down at my desk this morning after a 3 day weekend of marathon packing, I also made another realization. B, Mia and I will be spending our first holiday season on our own, as our own family. From Thanksgiving to New Year's Eve, neither my nor B's family will be around for the celebrations. Last year, we spent Thanksgiving at our apartment and the following long weekend in an RV, and then Christmas in France.

We had previously planned on going to Chicago for Christmas, but because we have already been there twice this year for various weddings, and because this move is costing many dollars despite our most valiant attempts at being cheap, we are staying put. I had been toying with the idea of doing an overnight somewhere like Mt. Charleston or St. George, UT to make Christmas Eve and Day less lonely, but I'm reconsidering. It might feel even more lonely if we are in a hotel room somewhere.

So for now, the plan will be to celebrate on our own, as a little family of three, in our new little house which will hopefully be fully unpacked and organized. This year is proving to be much less eventful, but hopefully just as happy!

Post Apocalyptic Nonsense

When I was a kid, I would hyperventilate at the Planetarium when I tried to wrap my brain around the idea that the universe went on forever. It freaked me out to think of earth, and of myself, as a tiny spec in the grand scheme of things. I'm not sure you can call it an existential crisis when it happens to an 11 year old, but there you have it.

Nowadays, the same type of feelings spring up when something big happens. In this case, Hurricane Sandy. Of course, I worry about my friends on the East Coast, and I'm sure everything will be fine as long as everyone stays safe. But when I look out my window and see not a single cloud in the sky, my heart rate quickens a tiny bit at the thought of how far away we really are from our friends and family scattered throughout the country, and in a lot of cases, the world. The physical vastness of the planet (and the Universe!) compared to what our bodies are physically capable of freaks me out. Mainly, it scares me that, should something like the Day After Tomorrow happen, our little family wouldn't be able to strap on some hiking boots and rejoin the rest of our family because we are just too far away.

Before this post takes a turn for the far too serious, let me disclose that B and I have been serially watching the Walking Dead all weekend anytime Mia is asleep. We have about 8 episodes left to go before we are totally caught up and can start watching what is currently airing on AMC. Ever since the days that I got majorly into Lost, about 50% of the thoughts I have while watching an apocalyptic style show (Lost, Revolution - which I watched 2 episodes of before giving up because I didn't like the main character) are somewhat wistful about how much simpler life would be if something like that would happen. Not so much in the case of the Walking Dead -- I do not fantasize about living in a world where there are zombies ready to eat you around every corner. But a world without electricity, or marooned on a tropical island? Sure.

The reason anyone can actually go away from home for anything is that it's easy to stay in touch. It was easy to pick up the phone or sign into AIM back in college, and it is even easier now to sign into Skype and have an actual face to face conversation with your parent, or make sure your child knows her grandparents' faces. It's easy to get on a plane and visit your grandmother for Christmas, so that she can see her great-grandchild. All of it is easy, and when I have my existential crises, at least I'm reminded not to take it for granted.

Because, it may come a day when there are flesh eating zombies preventing me from getting on a plane for a friend's wedding. But probably not. Until then, everyone on the East Coast stay safe!

What Do I Actually Want?

***Yeah, this is really, really, long, and I apologize.  I don't know what happened.  Read it in more than one sitting if you must, but I do think it hits on some primal, yet unspoken thoughts we all have when it comes to our parents, no matter what our age and situation.  Or, of course, maybe it's just me.  :)  Oh, and it's almost 6am and I haven't slept yet, so sentence structure and grammar?  Yeah, not really happening.  Bonus points for every word you find that isn't really an actual word, but just something I made up that sounds passable.  See?  That right there.***

Here's what's up:  I found out today that my mother lost her job.  I've glanced through all my posts and realize I haven't written a lot about my parents.  A ton about my MIL and FIL, but not my own folks.  This also means I haven't nicknamed them yet, and first initials won't do, because my dad shares his first initial with someone we already write about.  Um, gosh, why did I save trying to be creative and coming up with blog nicknames for my own parents at 5am?  Think, Juliet, think.  Oh, okay, let's go "Lord C" and Lady C," for you know, Lord and Lady Capulet from the play.

So, Lady C lost her job.  Details are fuzzy, as in non-existent.  I missed her teary voice mail on my cell by literally 10 minutes, and by the time I called back, she wasn't picking up.  We have been playing phone tag the entire evening.  What I do know is that I'm shocked but not surprised, and yes, before you pause too long wondering, it is entirely possible to be shocked yet not surprised.  I am not surprised because she has been worried and talking about fear over losing her job for probably 2 years now due to the fact that the company replaced her direct boss (she's an administrative assistant) and he didn't like her as much as the previous person did.  Not being there first hand I have never known whether this was just my mother being a worrywart like me (hey, you wondered where I got it?)  or whether there was due cause for her concern.  Thus, my lack of surprise, however I was shocked by the actual news, because while I've heard her worry for years, nothing ever happened nor were there any warning signs that something might.

What makes matters worse than "simply" being laid off in an economy where jobs are still scarce, the fact that Lady C doesn't have a college degree (she worked for the company 16+ years and climbed the ladder from receptionist to her final position as admin assistant to the office manager), and that companies seem to want young doe-eyed 20 somethings they can pay minimum wage and no benefits, is the fact that my mother was the bread winner (and source of health insurance benefits) in my parents' household.  My dad, Lord C, lost his full-time job at least 3 years ago.  He's been working from home selling health insurance, but it doesn't have benefits, and while he's tight-lipped, I know he's struggling finding clients and making a living because a year ago he picked up a part-time job at Bath and Body Works, and a few weeks ago a second part-time job as a gas station attendant.  (For those of you playing along at home, that's 3 jobs total.)  Not exactly how I pictured my 63 year-old father, who used to make $60,000+ a year as a top department store salesman, living out what should be his last working decade.

Oh boy, this post is way too long, and I haven't even gotten to the real actual reason for writing tonight.  Let me cut to the chase-- if that's even possible at this point.  I miss my parents like crazy.  I moved to Las Vegas 6 years ago, straight out of college, not really knowing what would happen, how long I'd be here, etc, etc, etc.  But I do acknowledge it was completely my choice to move 1,735 miles-- the exact distance from my front door to theirs.  What I didn't plan on was falling in love, getting married, and having a child 1,735 miles away from them.  And it's hard.  Hard as hell.  My son only knows Grandma MIL and Grandpa FIL.  I want him to know Grandma C and Grandpa C.  Romeo has tried to comfort me by saying that as a kid he had one set of local grandparents and one set of long-distance ones.  And while yes, he was closer emotionally to the local set, he doesn't have super, amazing, one-of-a-kind memories of them.  Those memories are reserved for his long-distance grandparents.  The fact that those visits were fewer and far between makes the memories sweeter.  I appreciate the sentiment, but frankly, I think it's a load of crap.  I want my parents here.  I've wanted them here since I was pregnant.  And not just for Tybalt's sake.  I want them to know him as well.  I also am sick and tired of everything from holidays and special occasions to everyday excursions to the park or the mall being only with Romeo's mom.  I want my own Mom (and Dad).  I miss them.  I want Christmases with them that don't require trying to budget $2,000 for airline tickets, hotels, rental car, etc.  I want my parents to just drive to our place for a dinner every once in a while, and us to them.  I want them to get the chance to babysit Tybalt instead of that right and privilege only belonging to Romeo's mom.

And the thought of my parents moving "out west" from Chicago has never been absurd.  My sister and her husband live in Provo, UT.  Which, while it's a lengthy drive, is, in all honesty a very do-able trip for a long weekend.  However, while my mom was the breadwinner, and in this position, as I've [too lengthily] tried to describe and show is not just a normal title and job she could transfer to, let's say, the Las Vegas branch of the national company she works for, a move while not absurd, was not practical.  Or, more straightforward, pretty much impossible.  While my dad could do his "things" anywhere, my mother definitely could not.  I've begged, I've told her to start applying online for administrative assistant positions in any company, any field, anywhere in the west closer to my sister and me.  I've always pushed for Las Vegas, because I selfishly want them with me and their grandson, not my sister in Utah, but still, anywhere out west where they are a drive away would be fine.  But my parents' response has always been that they wish it could happen, but like I said, while my Dad is flexible, my mom couldn't leave her steady job without another job lined up, and even doing that, she wouldn't be making nearly as much by starting over at some new company that doesn't know her.  And while it's painful, I've accepted that.  But when I got the voice mail this afternoon, I couldn't help but actually feel HAPPY.  I should feel horrible and upset for the injustice my mother is feeling.  And yeah, I do.  I should be worried about my parents--my father has heart problems and my mother has arthritis, knee, and lower back problems-- and now they just lost their health insurance.  And again, yeah, I do.  Yet I also feel like this is IT.  This is the time for them to pick up everything and just move out here...NOW.  Don't scramble to find a job, Mom, and then use that one as an excuse to stay in Chicago still.  In one of her voice mails today as we played our incessant phone tag, my mother said they are in fact talking about taking the opportunity, yet at the same time, "this probably isn't the time to make rash decisions."  And I want to say, "Why not?  Now is actually the perfect time to make a rash decision."  Romeo has already told me not to get my hopes up.  Moving is expensive enough.  Imagine trying to move now that you have only the balance in your checking account to live off of.  And I get that.  I get that it seems impossible financially.  But I'm so scared that if they don't scrape the money together and do it now, they'll get tied into Illinois again, and they never will.

Here's the last thing though for tonight.  I cry myself to sleep sometimes over how much I miss my parents.  I hug Tybalt tight sometimes and cry into his shoulder that my parents aren't around to see his milestones and witness his amazing personality.  But does that truly, honestly, mean, that if and when my parents got here, I wouldn't regret them being here?  I want them here on my terms, and that's just not possible.  They'd be here on their terms.  I said somewhere up above here that I wish they lived so close they could drive to our place, or us to theirs, for dinners every once in a while.  But that's the key right there--"every once in a while."  If they are here, they are HERE.  Do I want the pressure of being expected to see them whenever they want to see me?  Do I want my parents, who arise even on their days off no later than 6am, to find out that I sleep until 1pm on the weekend when Romeo can wake up with Tybalt instead of me?  And how would I deal with the jealousy (I can see all three of their skin turning green now) when MIL, who has never had to share Tybalt in her life, now has to share with my parents?  And my parents who will want to see him every possible chance, seeing they didn't get to before, realizing they must still in fact share with MIL?

So, do I push as hard as I can and tell them exactly why they should move this instant and come out here?  Or should I resist the urge and just stand back, with my hands clean, and see what happens by fate, and by their own decisions, without a word (or much of a word) from me?  (I mean at the very, very least I would think that I need to state once again that I would welcome them here.  No?)

There is an infamous "joke" that really truly happened when I was hospitalized and only semi-conscious two years ago.  I've only been told what happened because I was so drugged that I have no memory, so I'm paraphrasing the following dialogue, and for the sake of the story you should also know that Henderson, NV is a bustling town with jobs and shopping and basically all Las Vegas has, as it's suburb, and is only about 20 minutes away from our current apartment, whereas Bullhead City, AZ, is just across the state border, with no real economy or job opportunities (let alone a mall, so who'd want to live there anyway!  lol) but about 90 minutes to 2 hours away:  My mother was at my bedside, along with Romeo.  (It was her first visit, when I was touch and go still in the ICU.  And I couldn't talk because I had already been given a tracheotomy.)  She was crying I guess and holding my hand and saying, "Daddy and I need to move out here.  We can't keep living this far away from you, 'Juliet.'"  And apparently even in my stupor I nodded and smiled and even teared up.  So she said "How would you like that, if Daddy and I moved here, huh?  Wouldn't that be good?"  And again there was more emphatic nodding and smiling on my part.  Then she said, "What about Henderson?  That would be a good choice."  At which point, I stopped smiling and shook my head 'no' violently!  Luckily my mother laughed and replied, "Too close, huh?"  And Romeo chimed in saying, "What about Bullhead City?"  To which I apparently went back to nodding fiercely and smiling widely, and the whole room busted a gut laughing so hard.

So perhaps, while I fantasize about a Norman Rockwell situation with my loving parents right here, I should take a clue from my no-holds barred, tell it like it is because the drugs are like truth-serum, semi-conscious mental state...20 minutes away?  Hell no, but feel free to move about 2 hours away so you have to call first before just dropping by for dinner...