Holiday spirit

I'm getting there. It's somehow harder for me to get into the holidays now that I have kids, I think, because it's so much more work. Dragging down all the stuff, the dreaded shopping, etc... but tomorrow starts the first night of Hanukkah and I'm in the right mode now. I'm going to start my shopping tomorrow, and will do most of it on Saturday. This weekend kicks off non-stop Hanukkah parties and it'll continue right up until next Sunday when I've got my family Christmas party.

I'm feeling delightfully pregnant - my belly is lovely and round and the baby moves pretty much non-stop. I'm still throwing up occasionally, pretty much exhausted all the time, but mostly feel pretty good. I'm really enjoying this pregnancy, especially now that the nausea has mostly passed. I love being pregnant. I love the way I feel as though my entire body is stuffed full of magic - and there's something to be said for feeling so incredibly FEMALE - I am making a whole new person, right at this very moment. And that's not all - I'm still able to nurse my son, providing him with antibodies and nutrition and comfort and love. My body is freaking amazing, and I'm more aware of that now than ever before. As much as I'd LOVE to be done with nursing - I'm secretly really proud of the fact that we've gone this long. I am the nursing QUEEN.

oh the drama of it all

Don't get me wrong, I love a little drama. A little emotional free for all, a little let it all go and cry your eyes out. I'm big for expressing whatever - the "hokey pokey theory of life" (phrase stolen from One True Theory of Love by Laura Fitzgerald). Whatever you're feeling, be it joy or misery, put your whole self in it.

But my daughter takes it to a whole new extreme. She's been wailing for the for past hour. About what, I'm not entirely sure, I tried to keep track, part of it was that her sisters were not coming over today, then it merged into some nose pain (??), and last I checked it was because her blistex wasn't where she left it. I've given up and just sent her to her room to pull herself together, when she's done crying, she's welcome to come back out. But until then... I just can't do it anymore. She's just crying, and really getting into it, letting the full throated wail and screech come out - and it's making me crazy... I know that this is part of what I love most about Jessie - her ability to feel everything so fully, it's what makes her who she is, and I wouldn't change it. Really. I just like to think about how nice it would be if she'd smile instead of sob on a day like today.

In other news - first snow day of the year. Marc and Sam went outside to clear off the car. And for the first time, I refused to trudge out there to keep an eye on Sam while he did it. He's three, old enough to control himself out there, and he had a wonderful time. I ended up standing outside on the porch anyway, because Sam was nowhere near ready to come in by the time Marc was ready to go to work. I had my boots on barefoot and my winter coat over my nightgown and brought down my book and read while he played in the snow. It was sweet - he's an outside boy - and expressed concern for "his trees" would they be okay in the snow? I assured him that trees LOVE snow, and would be just fine :-)

The baby is moving, moving, moving. A lot, and I love it. Really, really love it. This is my favorite part of the pregnancy, so incredibly worth the first 14 weeks of utter hell :-)

So very busy...

I don't feel as though I'm all that busy. I mean, I'm at home pretty much all day, every day. And even though there's the obvious chaos that goes along with having small children in the house, things still feel fairly calm and relaxed much of the time. But I spoke to one of my best friends in the world and she mentioned that she hasn't talked to me lately because she didn't want to bother me, I seem to be so busy all the time. Every time she calls, the kids are yelling or there's something going on... and Marc commented this morning how exhausted he was after such a busy weekend.

Looking back, it wasn't all that busy, but it feels as though we're just doing something constantly. Saturday morning, he got up, brought Jess and Sarah to Hebrew School, came back, picked Sam and I up and we went out for breakfast (which was very sweet, because he was planning on going to services but because Sammy cried so hard when he left, he came back to spend the time with us instead). Then we picked up the girls from Hebrew School, did the dance relay (where we drop one off at the studio and pick the other one up), came home, dropped off me, Sam and Lilli, and took Jessie grocery shopping. Then he picked up Sarah, and we spent the afternoon at home. The girls went home early, because Harrison and Julia were coming over. The kids were here for dinner, and settled down to watch movies around eight thirty or so.

Sunday was equally busy, I guess, Marc went to the Brotherhood Breakfast with his dad at the synagogue in the morning, and I stayed home with the kids. Then he picked up the girls, brought them back here, we made Hanukkah cards for a marine that Marc met thru work, who's stationed up in Alaska. After that, we picked up Jordyn and went to the Hanukkah party for the PJ Library. Which was actually great, and everyone had a really good time. I'm feeling delightfully pregnant now. Sam was, as per usual, miserable at the party for the first hour, but then loosened up and started interacting with people.

Today's a quiet day at home, and I'm looking forward to just relaxing and straightening out the house. Both kids are seriously sleep deprived, so I'm working actively towards an early bedtime with Jess. She's been fighting sleep, really hard, for the past couple of nights and I need to fix that. I've always had no problem getting her to sleep, but now she's bigger and it's becoming more of an issue. I want her to be able to fall asleep on her own, and it's not going well. I'm thinking that maybe getting a sound machine, or a books on tape sort of thing might work well for her, because she falls asleep best when I'm reading out loud to her from one of my books (boring for her, but she likes to listen to something when dozing off).

The December Dilemma

It's an actual dilemma - I didn't make up the name. This whole December/holiday problem comes up every year for families that are interfaith. Not that we're technically interfaith anymore, because the kids and I converted to Judaism earlier this year. But unfortunately - it's still a dilemma.

This morning, Marc and I had our annual battle over the holidays. The worst part is that it's all theoretical - we weren't fighting over whether we'd be celebrating Hanukkah (we are) or if we'd be putting up a tree (we're doing that too). For me, Christmas isn't a religious holiday - but it's still a beautiful one, filled with tradition and peace and goodwill towards men. I have wonderful memories of Christmas as a child. And because we were never really a traditional Catholic family (most of my family would self identify as pagan or wiccan if asked), I don't have any religious associations with it.

But for a Jewish person - someone who was raised Jewish - Christmas does have all sorts of negative religious associations. And it's hard for Marc to compromise. Not that he's not going to compromise, not that he's ever said that I can't get a tree or put up my little nativity scene that my mom made me when I was a kid. But he's not thrilled with it - and I want him to feel better about it. I essentially was fighting with him about the way he feels and not the way he's acting. Because actions - he's great with that. He'll go get me my tree, and let me string up the lights and hang the candy canes. He enthusiastically watches all the Christmas specials with the kids, and will come with me to my mother's house on Christmas Day.

I didn't grow up Jewish, and I'm okay with that. I'm very happy with my spiritual path, the road I've taken to get to where I am, and I wouldn't change that. I don't want to pretend that I didn't celebrate what, for me, is a wonderful, life affirming, joyous time of year - and I don't want to deprive my kids from that. But I AM Jewish - and I don't want to change that either. Left to my own devices, I don't have any conflict with lighting the menorah and making potato latkes and putting up a tree and leaving cookies out for Santa. Because one is spritual, one is a celebration of a miracle, it's a way of bringing light into the darkest time of the year - and one is just fun, pretty lights, candy canes and jingle bells. My kids know the difference - and are able to appreciate each holiday for what it represents to them. I just wish sometimes it was easier for Marc to get there.

It would be easier, I think, if Marc had gone thru a conversion process similiar to the one that I went thru. If he had thought about all of this, figured out what's important to him, what he'll compromise on, what he can't, how he wants to raise the kids, etc. But there's no conversion process for Jews who marry girls who aren't Jewish. And even though I've converted, there are still compromises that he has to make, just because I'm not, nor will I ever be, a person who grew up Jewish. I can't magically erase my past, and more importantly, I don't want to. I don't want to hide who I am and my family's traditions from my kids. I'm perfectly comfortable with being a Jewish woman who celebrates Christmas as well as Hanukkah. I'm very comfortable with the December Dilemma - I worked my way thru it over the past couple of years ago. It's just occuring to me that Marc missed out on that - he missed out on that introspection, that really deep thinking about what our marriage means to him, what it means to raise children with someone of a different background.

We'll survive the December Dilemma - we do every year. And in the end, it's precisely because of who we are that keeps us together. I know that he loves me, exactly as I am, and I know that I feel the same about him. Our children will grow up with a strong Jewish identity - but they're also going to grow up knowing all the words to the 12 Days of Christmas and craving candy canes every December. And that's exactly the way I want it to be.

A boy and his dad

When Sam was about seven months old, he fell in love with his Daddy - and it's a relationship that has only intensified as time passes. Don't get me wrong, this boy loves me - but he WORSHIPS his father. Last night, Marc got home at about seven. Sam is in the process of giving up the afternoon nap, so in theory, he should have been going to bed around seven thirty or eight. But once Daddy got home, Sam was his shadow all night long. First they fixed the dryer together. The thermostat had to be replaced, and Sam got his tools and headed to the laundry room with Daddy. It took about an hour, and Sam was right there, actively hammering away on the thing and feeling oh-so-important. After that, they had a little dinner (Sam's second dinner of the night), played swords and Spiderman on the bed (wrestling and jumping on Daddy) and then took a shower and shaved together (we bought Sam a little kid shaving kit last Christmas, he likes to scrape the soap off his face). Finally, I convinced Marc to come and settle down in the living room with him, and Sam was trying SO hard to stay up with him. He was sitting in the chair next to Marc, and I realized that he was literally falling asleep, his head was starting to nod off. I went over to him and picked him up, and he was asleep before I laid him down :-). So incredibly sweet... but I kind of miss my husband because Sam has been completely monopolizing him :-)

It's working!

I think, as a parent, most of the time, you really don't know if you're doing a good job or not. In fact, being me, most of the time, I'm pretty sure I'm screwing the kids up in ways I can't even imagine yet. But every now and again, I see actual tangible results, and the pleasure I feel is huge.

As many of you know (you know, the three people I know of that actually read this blog), I've been struggling with extended nursing. It wasn't necessarily a path I wanted to walk, but it is the path that Sam has planted himself along, so I'm doing my best to work thru it. It's been really difficult, in terms of family support (non-existant), pregnancy (suffice it to say - remember those first weeks of nursing, when it just hurt and you'd have to do lamaze breathing just to get thru it - that's NOTHING compared to nursing while pregnant). Sam's started skipping his nap (he's almost three and a half, so I guess it had to happen sometime) and (miracle of all miracles) has started falling asleep at night, cuddled up in DADDY'S arms - NOT NURSING. I can actually see the end of the tunnel now - the main nursing sessions that I couldn't talk him out of where nursing to sleep. He still nurses on occasion - but it's nowhere near as frequent, and I think we've at last managed to break the habit of needing it to sleep. THANK GOD! It actually worked - letting him wean on his own DID NOT mean letting him nurse until he was 30, despite what everyone in my family thinks. I'm psyched that we're finally making concrete progress on this matter ;-)

Miss Jess is one of those kids who just doesn't LIKE going to school. Likes school, but doesn't like the process of getting up and dressed and out the door. And many, many mornings, she lobbies to stay home. Claiming an upset stomach, or sore throat, or her ankle hurts (it's random stuff - I know she's just throwing it out there to see if I'll bite). Today was one of those mornings. Complicated by the fact that I actually AM sick - sneezing, coughing, lungs congested, I feel awful. And I was so not up for the fight this morning - because there have been days when Marc has had to drag her out the door, crying and wailing (not that she's not FINE by the time they get there - but I have a drama queen, and she's well aware of how easy it is to make me feel guilty). I just couldn't do it this morning, I didn't feel well enough for the fight - and after about five minutes of it, I called her into the living room, and told her that I knew she wasn't sick, but I didn't feel good enough to fight her on it. So she could stay home - but that going to school was her job, and her responsiblity, and I would be very disappointed if she chose to take advantage of the fact that I was too sick to force her to go. She slammed back into her bedroom, and my heart was sinking - because I knew that she'd choose to stay home. BUT SHE DIDN'T. She came out and asked for help picking out clothes, got herself dressed, ate breakfast and left with an extra hug and I'm so proud of her for making the right decision. It was definitely another moment when I felt like all my struggles to teach her responsibility and compassion were working - when the chips were down, and it was totally up to her, she made the right decision.

It's a good day here - now if I could only take a deep breath without coughing...

Not too much going on....

Thanksgiving was lovely - it was actually one of the most peaceful ones I can remember. One of my brothers, I swear to God, makes it his holiday mission to bug the hell out of me. I go down to my mother's the night before to be there bright and early to help make the turkey. And my brother always shows up around eight, and bugs me until he finally goes home to his own house for dinner around noontime. This year, he never showed up, and the day was peaceful and easy and delightful.

We had another Thanksgiving on Saturday, here at the house. Invited friends and family and the turkey turned out wonderfully. This way we have tons of leftovers, and it went so well that we'll do it every year, I think.

Everyone's got a cold here, well, except for Marc, and I think he's coming down with it. It's not a bad cold, but coughing, sneezing and general yuckiness seems to prevail all around. I took some benedryl to bed last night, and feel a LOT better this morning. Jess was home yesterday (she had a dentist appt in the middle of the day, so I didn't bother waking her up and shipping her to school for only a half day), but went to school happily enough this morning.

I was doing dishes this morning (as per usual) and Sam came tearing into the kitchen, devastated that I was "doing his job" without him. He LOVES doing the dishes, and really considers it his responsibility. We do them together, obviously, but he did a great job, and I love that he totally steps up when it comes to household chores :-). I also love that it's my son doing the dishes, and not my daughter. Sam's such a BOY sometimes, I worry that we do a little too much gender stereotyping around here, because Jess is such a girly girl and Sam's so rough and tumble boy-ish. I think it evens things out to have Sam in charge of dishes. Now if I could just get Jess interested in bringing out the trash...

Baby is doing well - moving a LOT and I love it. I'm getting bigger and bigger and it's starting to occur to me that there's no way out now. If that makes any sense... with both Jess and Sam, there was a point in each pregnancy when it suddenly became clear to me that the only way out of this was labor. There's no escape - this baby is definitely real and coming and in a few short months, she'll be here. I can't wait.