Restructured

A few months ago I made a little announcement about us moving to New York. Not too long after that I made a little announcement about the wee Widget we'll welcome to the family in July. As soon as I saw the positive pregnancy test and looked at a calendar I knew this pregnancy would go. The timing really couldn't have been more terrible: my EDD was separated from Tim's start date at his new job by a mere 48 hours.

Since then we've been participating in the mental gymnastics of how to make this all work. Of course, we'll get from Point A to Point B it's all a matter of how to make that happen just as smoothly as possible. I've been psyching myself up just like I used to way back in my grad school days when the only choice was to just keep going. I remember clearly many instances where I would look in the mirror and instruct myself, "You have to keep going. You can do it all." Tenacity is probably one my greatest assets.

Big Sur, CA just north of Nepenthe restaurant. I will miss how sensationally beautiful and raw this part of the west coast is. 

So, I found myself there again: dealing with it, pretending I was doing OK. But I wasn't. Thursday afternoon while Ada was taking the shortest nap known to mankind I was trying to figure out our insurance situation. As it happens the one month of our adult lives when we don't have insurance lined up is the one month we definitely will need it. Our COBRA options left us with a daunting choice:

1. Stay in San Francisco until the baby is born. Our insurance coverage is amazingly awesome, we know the doctors, the facility and how to get there and we have a support network. The trade off? I have to stay here after the baby is born until late August when we can fly to meet Tim, who starts his job on August 1 in New York. He might be here for the birth but will miss the first precious weeks of his sons life. 
2. The three of us engage in a disjointed move to New York, keeping the family together for the most part. Our insurance option in this case is downright terrible. It would cost us at least $10,000 to have this baby and that's assuming that everything goes well: the birth is uncomplicated, baby and I are both healthy. We would be in a strange place with strangers all around us and a facility we know nothing about. That's if I could find an Ob to take me at 37 weeks pregnant.

I sat at our dining room table on Thursday, poised to throw my phone across the room in frustration. The computer screen started to blur and all of my breath left my lungs. Once the sobs started I couldn't stop them. Not even after Ada woke up and not even when I knew our landlord and dear friend was on her way over. There wasn't a way to deny what was happening. No matter how I tried to find an option that wouldn't rape us financially or separate our family I just couldn't. Resourceful, pragmatic, analytical me just couldn't make this equation work out.

A tree in our neighborhood. Today the flower petals were drifting downward to make a soft pink carpet on the sidewalk. 

Tim got home and we talked about Adas visit with the dentist and my visit with my Ob. I walked into Target to return something and actually walked out without buying anything - a first. I had meant to save the rest of the days events for Friday night after his workweek was over but he was open to hearing the rest so I spilled. All of my insurance math and rationale tumbled out in an endless stream of verbal vomit. As soon as I stopped talking Tim looked up and said, "In a way, this makes so much more sense." One thing I love about this man is that he possesses the rare yet enviable trait of not always needing to be adversarial and contrary - he doesn't need to argue just for the sake of saying a devils advocate had been part of the conversation.

Myakka River State Park, FL. Captured moment between a couple on the tour boat. I loved the simplicity of their affection for one another.

And that's that: we're staying in San Francisco until after the baby is born.

I let my held breath out and immediately the rightness of our decision settled comfortably in my gut. The last time I felt this right about a decision was when I used all of my vacation days up so that Tim could study on Sundays and pass his oral board exams. As soon as the decision was made I knew it was the right thing to do. Last night was the first night of this whole pregnancy that I slept through the whole night. I woke up in the morning to light seeping in through the curtains in Adas room and I thought, "Oh my God. I slept until morning."

Again, we're engaged in some mental gymnastics but it's all coming together comparatively seamlessly. Another sign that we're on the right track. We might have even found a way to avoid the crippling financial consequences that we have spent months bracing ourselves for. Hallelujah! It's starting to look like things are going to work out just fine. That's good because I was really starting to wonder...



Speaking of gymnastics, guess who started tumbling class today? Really, they all just run around in a giant padded space bouncing and jumping and falling safely. Now that our summer is open again I signed her back up for music class, soccer, swimming... Oh, I'm taking this SAHM thing seriously (two more weeks).
I also started looking for a good source for a car seat for Widget and did a quick onesie inventory. I'll pour my heart out about that later.

Terrible picture, I know. I really thought for a minute that the trapeze might happen. Nope. Maybe next week. 

Tights and Skirts

Tim said to me this morning, "You haven't updated your blog in a while."

"Really? Huh."  It didn't seem like that long.

Tim flew out on Saturday morning to go to a meeting in New York. He got back late Tuesday night but was on call Wednesday so we didn't really see him until Thursday. Ada was so excited to have her daddy back that she's been following him around, begging to be picked up and doing nearly anything sweet she can think of to get his attention. He's gone out of town before but I've never seen this kind of a reaction from her. At one point he flashed me that look that says, "Can you please distract her while I go to the bathroom for 1 minute?" Ha. Welcome to my world, buddy! It's beautiful for sure but sometimes you just need a minute to pee.



Of course, Monday morning I walked down to the car and got in. As I pulled away from the curb the car started shaking and the "service engine" light was flashing. So I turned it around, parked back where I was and walked back home. I forgot that AAA won't tow if you aren't physically with your car. Sigh. Single parenting and 12 hour work days weren't very conducive to getting things like this done so the nanny drove me to work every day this week. I can summarize the most recent experience in one succinct sentence: We're test driving some new cars tomorrow. But the American Classic did her job - we wanted this car to get us through residency and fellowship and it did. We'll throw her a nice funeral and even I will find something nice to say about her.

Sadly, as Monday mornings often do, this most recent one set the cantor for the rest of the week. Every day I watched as my schedule spiral out of control toward a shit-storm of chaos. Everyone at work is asking me if I'm counting down the days? Well, yes, I am. Have been for years. To be honest, it'll be a miracle if I last another 12 days.

The week sailed by with all of the typical distractions and then some. So I didn't hit publish on any of the posts I've partially written. That's OK though. Usually when that happens, it's because in retrospect it's better that I didn't put those memories into any permanent form because they didn't deserve it.

The one really easy part of my week has been Ada. Something interesting happens when it's just me and Ada living alone together. We fall into an easy rhythm of just her and I. It has nothing to do with the absence of Tim. In fact, I far prefer to have our family together. Maybe it's spurred on by my desire to do special things with her like take a bath together for over an hour. Or to go for breakfast together where we sit outside sharing yogurt and fruit:



Whenever I spend time with her like this - totally focused - she responds by being ultra sweet and exceptionally cooperative. She is really changing so fast and growing into this opinionated, head-strong little person. Today she told me that her favorite color is blue, her favorite animal is the giraffe and her favorite book is "Llama". She knows all of her favorite books, and there are quite a few, by heart. She recites them or at least key words of them.

She also picks out her own clothes. Heaven help you if you try to intervene at all. Making a suggestion is the surest, fastest way to a non-matching outfit. Over the past 2 weeks her favorite is to wear tights and a skirt every day. She also wears some combination of this ensemble to bed. With her shoes. One morning I woke her up to go out to the nannys car to take me to work. When I pulled back the covers she had on her Easter white patent leather mary janes. Somewhere in the middle of the night she got up and put them on.




In case you have ever looked at small children before and judged what they were wearing I just want to make it clear that there is no hope of intervention. So she comes up with brilliant combinations all on her own. My personal favorite this weekend was her lavender Dora dress, hot pink stripped tights and red polka dot shoes. Sometimes passers-by giggle a little bit but I tell myself that's because she's a little girl and she can carry off just about anything she wants to. Even this:



What you can't see very well is that under the Elmo jacket is a yellow and white stripped sweater. Because what could possibly go with stripped tights and a stripped skirt any better than a stripped sweater? Nothing.
Similar combinations have shown up at soccer practice:



And while dancing in the aisles of the hardware store:



I kid but don't get me wrong. Mismatched outfits, singing off-key, dancing any time, any place and reciting her favorite stories are just part of why I love her and why I love being her mom. I love watching her turn into the person she's going to be. I think she's going to be pretty awesome.




There is a happy weekend of swim class and Subaru dealers coming our way. It leads into a week where I'll cross into the single-digit countdown to being done with my job. Oh, thank goodness. I can't wait to spend more time with this one. We have our own little countdown. It isn't lost on me that these coming 3 months are the last ones where it will be just her and me. It makes having extra time with her seem even more important.

One Day Like This

We had one today - a beautiful, perfect, sing-the-high-praises-of-motherhood kind of day. Nothing that any other adult might consider remotely productive got done today. Then again, that depends on you definition of productive. I hung out with my kid all day - gave her my undivided attention - and she responded beautifully. If only all of my time and all of my days could be centered around nothing but her...



I didn't have my camera on me to take pictures of any of it and I'm a little bit sad about that. It would certainly make for a more beautiful blog post but frankly, I was too busy living the moments fully to stop and take pictures. Don't get me wrong - I love taking pictures but it still requires a lot of concentration on my part and I still only keep about 1 for every 20 I take.

But this day happened and I'm going to write it all down anyways. I could use the word 'perfect' at least 165 times but I'll try to keep it in check. I want Ada to know that these days existed for us. I want her to know that there were times when I dropped everything to just soak up the purity and sweetness of her presence. I want to remember it too - that there were days when literally all I did was actively love her. That being this way with her brings out her very best self. Today I hugged a little tighter and a little longer. I kissed the top of her head a little more often. I listened a little more intentionally as she tried to tell me a story, something she does quite often now.



It started with her waking up and coming to our bed to snuggle. She stopped to take off her shoes first, a very generous gesture given that she's slept in her shoes every night for the past week and a half now. She climbed up and pulled back the covers and then the most glorious part of my day happened: she rolled in as close to me as she could get so that I was spooning her with our cheeks pressed together. I breathed her in, smiled and hugged and kissed her sleepy face and stroked her arm. She said, "awww, nice mommy." After a few minutes I got a cup of coffee and she got some books. We snuggled and read together and it was very precious start to the day.

A couple of hours later we caught the bus, which is very exciting to her. The bus driver was nice and even gave Ada her own transfer ticket! Off to the brand new, 3.5 million dollar Mission Dolores playground. It was sunny. It was hot. She followed Alexa around all over the  place and when she couldn't find her she asked, "Where's my Lex?" because everything these days is preceded by the pronoun "my". Here's where I could use the word 'perfect' to describe her mix of independence and checking in. Her sense of sharing and being kind. Her good humor.



When it was getting too hot to stay much longer we all walked out of the park together and went for ice cream at the Bi-Rite. The girls played and ate their cookies n' cream cones while Christy and I ate our salted caramel cones. (Can I just offer the unsolicited advice that if you're even in San Francisco you must try the salted caramel ice ream at the Bi-Rite at 18th and Dolores? I think that this ice cream was delivered to earth by the hand of God himself with the clouds parting and angels singing and the whole celestial show. Seriously. Don't die without eating this ice cream.) Christy and I talked forever about work and kids and moving. Alexa had a minor moment of acting out because she couldn't ride the bus home with Ada.  I felt better that it's not just my kid that does this stuff in public because that's what it usually feels like. Then we caught the bus home.

Ada napped peacefully while I dozed in the glider across from her crib. The windows were open and the cool fresh air blew in off the Pacific ruffling the curtains that filtered the strong western sunlight warming her room. It was quiet and cozy. Her brother danced in my belly. I felt peaceful, content and sleepy. Mostly I wished that every day could be like this one so far.

She woke up and we got in the car to "rescue daddy" from the VA. She told me along the way about how much she likes her daddy. After we rescued Tim the three of us walked on the beach. Tim and Ada played a game where he tells her to march, skip, run, or walk slowly (sneak) and she does it without questions or "No!" The sun was setting, dogs were running and playing, the water was cold. Tim and I talked about the day and she ran up and down the sand. He told me about a strange pediatric case he read that day. My heart ached for this child's family and I reached down to stroke Ada's head again.

The first melt down of the day was precipitated by leaving our unseasonably warm beach. I could only cure it by promising a breakfast picnic on the beach tomorrow morning. When we got home there was an easy division of labor. We all ate dinner together. While at the dinner table the first song in the playlist (right) came on Radio Paradise. You know I love Elbow so it seemed very apros pos.

Ada is snoring a few feet away and I'm fighting to keep my eyelids open. I'll go to sleep tonight thinking of how great today was and how much I hope tomorrow can be great too. It can be so simple.

10 Books

It's been a few weeks since I had my shit together enough to participate in a Monday Listicles. This week the topic is A List of 10 Books. Simple, no? I could spin this a thousand ways but the KISS principle seems the best approach. So off I went listing some books I love and linked it all up. Then I read a few of the other listicles. Awww, crap! In my book excitement, which can only be blamed on the fact that I'm a total dork, I published next weeks topic too early. I'm just going to roll with it.

10 Books that rocked my socks off so hard I could barely put them down:

1. Heaven is Here by Stephanie Nielson
This story is one that I am still thinking about intensely days after finishing. For one thing, this woman lived through a horrific accident that took months of recovery just to get to the point of basic independent function. Then she went and relived it in order to write this book. Wow. Despite circumstances that would bring most of us to our knees she still considers herself incredibly blessed and is thankful. Imagine that.

2. Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters by Margaret Meeker
Along with baby CPR, Giving Birth 101, and Breastfeeding 101 this book should be required for all people who are about to embark on raising a daughter. Seriously, it's that important. And it should be annual re-reading until your daughter is 40 years old.

3. The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett
When I got to the end I was just pissed that there weren't another 1000 pages to read. I could not put it down. For 3 days in a row I did nothing but read. Luckily laying on the couch doesn't work up a sweat but I still needed a shower when I got to the last page.

4. She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb
I read this when I was in my early 20s. It moved me deeply and awakened compassion and empathy in a way I hadn't really tapped into before - this character is heartbreaking.

5. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
A spellbinding classic. How interesting to have looked at this incredible time in history from this perspective.

6. Conversations with God by Neale Donald Walsch
My copy is dog-eared with sticky bookmark flags and pencil underlining passages that have been at one time or another, eye-opening or comforting or both. To a hard-core religious this book is probably blasphemous but I love thinking that God is really like this and that the universe really is this connected. It provides evidence of that gut feeling I've always had: there is something bigger and more vast than my mortal self can comprehend.

7. Devil in the White City by Erik Larson
Incredible read. So macabre that my morbid curiosity couldn't help but keep reading.

8. Many Lives, Many Masters by Brian L. Weiss
Another one that I couldn't put down. It really made me wonder about reincarnation and who I might have been in the past.

9. The Legacy of Divorce by Judith S. Wallerstein and Sandra Blakeslee
While reading this book I felt normal for the very first time in my life.

10. Baby Love by Rebecca Walker
This book makes me feel like less of an asshole and less of an outcast when I admit out loud that I didn't always want kids. Then when I did want them I was still afraid of my entire identity being sucked into a deep, dark black hole. Apparently for some women this is totally normal. It's also totally normal to feel OK about a major identity shift and wondering why you ever thought there was a chance that your baby wouldn't be the most captivating creature you ever laid eyes on in the first place.