Summer

(no extra words needed today)

Thirds.

A while back I contemplated the idea of a third child. Then, once the full brunt of a second brutal pregnancy hit, I was all, No Thanks! And promptly started thinking about what to do with the rest of our embryos.

And then when I had Alex, one of the first thoughts to my mind was, "Boy am I glad I'm done with that labor and delivery shit!" and when I got back home I unsubscribed to various pregnancy and expanding family-related sites. I mentally moved into the next phase of our lives, which involves me raising 2 children and getting on with myself and finding time for sex again.

Also I did a calculation of what it would take, financially, to raise 3 kids under 5 and it is staggering. I don't know how anyone could possibly do it. Or, actually, I sort of do but for us it would involve my husband transforming into a corporate lawyer or surgeon, or else us moving to the styx and trading in our Acura sedan for a minivan. Neither are lifestyles we are particularly interested in, and both scenarios would involve me being in the house with 3 kids all day every day until they all got themselves growed up and off to school. And I think that last part would nearly kill me. I mean sure, I would actually probably survive, but not without a hefty dose of Prozac and clothes with elastic waists and probably some unintentional mental scarring of my children.

The whole love-my-children but leave-me-the-hell-alone thing still makes me feel like Bad Mommy. I don't care how many examples someone can point out about successful happy working moms resulting in successful happy kids, the idea that I love my children but want to run away from them for many hours in the day still feels wrong. Not that I'm going to suddenly quit my job and go looking for a duplex on the west side, or anything. Still. Whatever.

So I'm on that track of no more kids and not looking back and suddenly I go visit Fertile Friend and we get to talking about more kids. She just had her third, a surprise baby. She's had those miracle easy births and pregnancies in which she gains nearly nothing, and in fact wants to become a doula just so she can try to make other moms have miracle births too. Whatever.

Anyway, she's talking about being on the fence about a fourth and not wanting to come to terms with potentially never having any more babies, and I'm all Yea whatever I've already started looking into art classes for myself for when my babies are big enough that I can get out of the house again and then we parted ways...and I started thinking about those 12 embryos on ice. And how I'll never know them. And that makes me sad.

What if there are more Eleanors in there? And I don't know much about Alex yet but when he's not screaming his head off he's actually pretty sweet too and I think about never getting to pick up a tiny little baby again of my very own and having him be all curly in the legs and arms because their bodies are still contorted from living inside a uterus for so long.

Time is almost up for our embryos' stay at CCRM. We have to decide next month whether to give them up for adoption or possibly have them destroyed.

So I've been going back and forth between obsessing about those embryos, which I regard as my only chance to have more children, and about how I'm going to be 35 years old in less than a month and I'm really sick of being so fat and enduring the c-section recovery thing and I'm really not in love with the newborn stage so much this time because of the screaming and the other, older child to contend with, and my career is treading water and I kind of need to take care of that before too long because no one is going to want to hire a mid-level 45 year old who hasn't published a darn thing because I hate publishing papers with a red hot firey passion and am I derailing here? Yes, I am.

I didn't think I'd be one of those women who hated the idea that their childbearing years might actually be behind them, because the whole "child bearing" part really fucking sucks for me. But actually, for me, it's about the kids, and about potentially not ever knowing any other children besides the two that we've got. And how's that for totally selfish thought from a (former) (veteran) infertile?

Dog days

Today we ventured out of the house: 2 kids + me, no other adults. We made it!

I know this stuff sounds repetitious, not that anyone is really reading this blog anymore, because it's really boring family stuff that is not particularly well written. But these little victories and setbacks of handling 2 kids, by myself or with accompaniments, totally rule my world right now. I'm off of work. I don't have a lot going on socially. My kids are it, and they should be, at this time in their lives and mine.

The dog days of summer have descended upon Colorado. It is HOT. And dry. And the whole "dry hot" argument, about it not being that bad because it's a "dry hot"? Still freaking HOT, if you ask anyone who actually lives here.

Hot days of summer to me mean a retreat into air conditioned buildings or else something involving water. Going to the pool by myself is out, since neither kid can swim and only one of them can hold her head up by herself. So, that leaves backyard sprinklers and pools. And also public fountains. I don't remember any public fountains that kids were allowed to play in when I was a kid. Of course, I lived in Ohio where no one really ventured outside without the aid of a car anyway. Still, public playing fountains seem a new thing, to me at least. But they're a godsend for those of us with small kids and small budgets.

I went to one in Boulder. I like to drive up there when I have two kids and a long morning of nothing in particular because it puts Alex to sleep for his morning nap, and he needs a good half hour of lulling vibrations to do it. And Elle is happy to sing in the car on the way up there, so it's a pleasant way to start the day for everyone.

We stopped off at a Whole Fo0ds and got some sandwiches (because I forgot to pack any) and E changed into her swimsuit and I made sure everyeone's diaper and/or bladder was empty before proceeding. This was the first time I navigated a grocery store with 2 kids by myself. Score!

Then we went to the fountain which is down on Pearl Street, which meant we had to park several blocks away, because the area is a walking mall. I managed the walk by pushing Alex in the stroller while corralling Elle around on foot. Maybe this sounds really easy, but it is not. Elle walks slowly, stopping about a thousand times to pick flowers or find pine cones or marvel at some such thing, which would be cute and fine if it were just about Elle, but Alex hates stopping when he's in the stroller. So it's constant management on my part to keep both of them happy, and I did that without tantrums or crying.

We got to the fountain and Elle happily ran around, and I kept Alex in my trusty sling, and everyone was happy. There were no tears shed the entire time, and Elle got to run around and Alex got to see something besides the house, and all of this made me feel like a good mom.

So today, I am a good mom. At least, as of noon today. It could still spiral out of control by the evening of course. There's always plenty of time for everything to explode.

I am not listening. To myself.

While hiking on Friday, in a moment of respite in which neither Elle nor Alex were crying their heads off, we took stock of what, exactly, went wrong on that hike and why and how we might fix things the next time. For, you know, a hike sometime in the way distant future when the scars of this one were old and worn. The things we did which we should not have done:

1. Bring the kid backpack for "just in case" Elle could not possibly walk a step further and needed to be carried home. Inviting kid backpack means walking is that much more unfun for a toddler.

2. Have Elle be the only child around not being carried.

3. Introduce a new sling (however comfortable!) to Alex the day of the hike.

4. Do not hike up hills with Elle. Even small ones.

5. Hike somewhere shady.

6. Hike somewhere with more entertainment that just a good view.

We realized this might be a handy list, sure, but we were not about to try it out again any time soon.

And then the very next day a friend of ours suggests a hike, and we were all, "SURE!" like the total idiots we are. So off we went again. We were nervous.

We found a trail that had shade and a river running along side it, which was perfect for throwing rocks and pine cones and whatever else nature-esque Elle could find and pick up. Thus the shade and entertainment requirements were met.

Also our friend has a little girl who is a couple years older than Elle, but still young enough to want to play with Elle, and so the "not the only child walker" requirement was met. And it was way cute to see Elle follow and adore an older girl. It was the older sister Elle will never have.

The weather was perfect and we had zero expectations for the hike, so we were not pushy about it. Want to stop and chuck a rock into the river? Sure! Want to sit in the dirt and see how much sand you can pour into your shoes? Why not!

This time I brought a sling that Alex was already used to - although that far from guaranteed he would want to be in it. Also I resolved just to try and push him in a stroller for as far as we could manage before slinging him at all. The stroller/sling combo ended up working out very well. Alex was pretty content the entire time.

We managed about a mile round trip, with a picnic lunch in tow, and the melt-downs and toddlerisms didn't even begin until we were practically back to the car. A pretty good day.

So? Good hike! I'm glad we were able to enjoy the good fourth of July weekend weather. I'm glad I didn't listen to myself, I guess, this time.

Things NOT to do as a new parent of two.

I don't know whether we're trying to do too much too soon and have unreasonable expectations of our newest family member, but disaster reigned again today as we attempted The Family Hike.

It started off well. Elle was in a good mood. Alex was sleeping. The sky was blue with fluffy clouds, and the temperature wasn't too hot yet. We got in the car and drove down to a beautiful state park along the south side of Denver.

As soon as we entered the gates, Alex woke up and started crying. We parked the car, and I started feeding Alex. Then Elle got bored, and then clingy, but was thwarted in any attempt to sit on my lap since Alex was there. Then Alex finished up and got sleepy, and I nudged him into my trusty sling that I used to use all the time hiking with Elle. Alex immediately started screaming. Then Elle melted down. Other visitors gave us pitying looks as they passed us by.

It was chaos.

The screaming/crying/whining thing continued from both of them for about an eighth of a mile, but it felt like 100 miles. Awful. Terrible.

We eventually found a bench and sat down. I swaddled Alex, and Elle calmed down. We sat on the bench and ate our sandwiches and tried to laugh it off and Elle picked some wildflowers and we cooled off in the breezy shade.

Then we turned around and repeated the whole thing again so we could get back to our car.

GAH.

Things to do with 2 sick kids.

Kid 1 has an earache. Kid 2 has a cold. It is sort of a blessing, in a consolation prize kind of way, that the walking, talking, can-use-hand-to-point-to-hurty-place child is the one with the earache. Because if it had been the other way around I think we would have just chucked Alex into the recycle bin by now, having not been able to figure out why he was crying inconsolably THIS time and figuring he was just a lemon.

Just kidding on the recycle bit, but seriously. Communication via actual words is such a blessing.

So: 2 kids, 1 lethargic, the other drooly, your average 90+ degree weekday, and husband away for 12 hours or so on some in vivo experiment. Options:

1. Books.
2. Music.
3. Movies. Specifically, Nemo.

Which activity dominates the day? Hint: The sing-song phrase "Just Keep Swimming" is going round and round in my head.

I don't like Elle watching movies. I LOATHE the idea of her spending an entire day on the couch with her eyes glued to the TV. Before the whole earache/headcold thing (plus some weird stomach bug thing for me, yay!), I was working on nixing the TV watching, which had gone into overdrive after the grandparents left, back when Alex was at his peak crying-fest suckitude and Elle was doing her best to ground us into the earth with her willfulness.

Then I went to this BBQ thing, where this size 2, perfectly made-up SAHM mother of two (3 years and 0 years) told us she doesn't own a TV. Doesn't OWN? A TV? And you're with them all the TIME? Freak. Who does she think she is, a good parent or something? Her kids were polite and stuff, too, damnit.

The encounter made me feel extra guilty about Elle's TV habits.

So, project Turn Off the TV was ramped up (because I am a closet competimommy, just a little bit), and we were doing well. And then the earache thing. Ah, well. Just keep swimming, right?

NHM can kiss my ass

My life in the last week has been fairly calm. I made zucchini bread from vegetables in my own garden. I started running again, and feels wonderful and far too jiggly. I developed hay fever, something I haven't had for over 10 years.

All these things are the details of a life in order, or at least, a life assembling back into order. They are boring, and so I have not bothered to write about them.

I save only life's disastrous moments for the internet.

Today, feeling overly-confident and with the help of my husband, we ventured back to the Natural History Museum. Recall that I visited NHM once before, when Alex was something like 2 weeks old, and my mother in law was there to wrangle Elle around. Recall that it made me feel like I never wanted to leave the house again.

Well, back for more!

Alex has been steadily getting better on the sleeping front, and in fact is nearly a model baby during the day, so I figured he'd sleep through the whole thing.

Of course he didn't. He fussed and fussed in the car, and then in the stroller, and then in each of our arms. He fussed after eating too much milk, which he spit up, and then fussed some more. Since we are veteran parents of a newborn this go-around, the newborn fussy stage annoys us instead of scares us shitless, so the adrenaline never kicks in which used to propel us through hours of crying and far too little sleep.

And Elle was her usual Jeckyl and Hyde self, which is to say, she's a toddler. The sweet Elle side waxes and wanes depending on how much sleep she's gotten recently (not a lot), and how her parents' moods are (crumby), and whether she's under the weather (she is).

So there were tantrums about every 5 minutes.

We arrived at NHM a little after 9, and we were back in the car pulling out of the parking garage by 10:10. I'm going to go ahead and strike Visit NHM off my list of things to do with 2 children. Perhaps until one of them can drive themselves there.