Some words from a Silver

You might think I'm an activist, but I'm not, exactly. I work for an environmental charitable organization. David Suzuki is not my boss, contrary to what some folks might think, but he's certainly involved in a lot of the work I do. I buy green cleaning supplies (or make them, sometimes) and I switch off lights and computers and obsess about my energy and fuel consumption. I'm a self-proclaimed tree-huggin' hippie.

Except that I recently bought a little crossover pseudo-SUV thing. I don't always take a reusable mug with my coffee. I have plastic lunch containers and I buy non-organic produce. I have a weakness for mac&cheese in a box and pizza pops on occasion. I sometimes just don't care that my clothes might have been made of questionable fabrics in poor factory conditions somewhere in Asia because dammit, that shirt looks so cute on me and I like it. Also, sometimes I enjoy a juicy, rare steak made of dead cow meat.

According to some of the real activists, the real treehuggin' hippies out there, I am a poser who isn't doing nearly enough because I don't chain myself to oil tankers or tell politicians in person how I want them to represent me. I will never be that kind of activist, and I am fine with that.

Ten years ago, a friend told me that I wanted to save the world. I didn't really believe him. I was struggling to make ends meet, like everyone else - trying to get through the month with enough cash left over for an occasional meal made up of more than noodles and sauce. I didn't have time to think about saving the world, although I cared quite deeply about all sorts of issues. I was too socially awkward and terrified of strangers and large groups to consider going to rallies or protests. I stayed home and talked to my friends on the internet, where things were quiet and safe and manageable.

I'm not the same person any more. Ten years is a long time, and life has turned upside-down at least three or four times since then. I've changed (although I still like sitting quietly on the internet). The world has changed. In the words of author and astronomer Carl Sagan, For the first time, we have the power to decide the fate of our planet and ourselves. This is a time of great danger, but our species is young, and curious, and brave. It shows much promise.

What do I do that makes me an activist? I can tell you what I don't do. I'm not mobilizing groups to march up to Parliament Hill. I don't ram boats into whaling ships or light things on fire to illustrate my point. I'm not doing anything that will get me arrested. I don't argue with climate change deniers who are ready for a grand battle - it's just not in my nature to argue, and I know a debate with me isn't going to change their opinions.

I finally made it to my first rally - on September 21st of this year, I went to Vancouver's Global Climate Wake-up Call. I forgot my cellphone and couldn't call the Prime Minister (the lines were jammed anyway) but I was there.

What I have done is transform myself. I am still transforming myself. I've changed so many of my own thought processes and habitually do small actions to personally fight global warming in so many little ways that I don't keep track any more. I make efforts to set a good example, to show friends and family that it's actually pretty easy. I have hope for the future, and I'm not afraid to express it in the face of those who tell me it's hopeless.

And I will try to raise my little girl to love the outdoors, and to understand our connection to the ecosystems around us. I want her to know that we are animals, the same as the fish and birds and bugs and furry creatures that still fill our world. I don't want her to turn off lights and computers and televisions because I tell her to - I want her to know why turning them off is important to the air, the water, the land, the animals - including, but not limited to, ourselves. I want to nurture her sense of wonder about everything on this planet and off it.

I am the product of many years of incremental changes. I know that it's overwhelming to feel like you're the only voice speaking quietly about saving the world amidst a sea of 30-second clips for the Magic Bullet or the Slap Chop. I lose myself in it regularly, and I get overwhelmed and want to throw in the towel, because I really do want to save the world. The thing I often forget is I'm not the only one, and all the people like me who are quietly changing the way they think and act are the ones who will turn the tide. The waves are rolling in, the world is forever changing. So yes, I am an activist. Just not the kind you might think.

Photo of me at the Global Climate Wake-up Call (caring about things!) by Eli

This post is part of Blog Action Day 2009.

Lyra is over thirteen months old now. Her first birthday came and went so quickly, I barely had time to think about what it really meant. And then She got sick, and Adam got sick, and I got sick, and we all got better, then all got sick again. Many weeks passed with varying degrees of sickness in the house, and I was too tired or sick to really think about anything.

We're finally all better now, which is nice. It won't last, but it's nice. Daycare is full of babysick germs that apparently attack us grown-ups worse than the babies.

So Lyra turned one, and within a few weeks so many developmental changes started kicking in that I could barely keep track anymore. She started cruising around furniture with a vengeance. She began standing up unassisted from the floor - although every time she noticed she was doing so she would sit back down because she's pretty sure she can't actually do that. She started eating regular foods in earnest and with great joy - especially fruit like blueberries, bananas, and cut up grapes. Just last night she discovered that the tube-shaped wooden block fits into the hole of the donut-shaped wooden block perfectly, and apparently spent two hours just doing that over and over with a huge grin on her face.

The best part of it has probably been the emergence of preferences. Not just 'she likes food A more than food B' but actual choices. She will pull every book off the shelf until she finds the one she wants you to read her, then bring it over to you and crawl into your lap. Right now her favourite books are Oh the thinks you can think by Dr. Seuss and The Awesome Book by Dallas Clayton. She also now points at foods she specifically wants, and even sort of says Banana if that's what she's looking for. It comes out as 'ba' - which is the same word she uses for baby, ball, and book - but accompanied by energetic pointing and a certain inflection that I can't describe in words, you know which one it is she means each time.

She also made Adam watch So you think you can dance Canada last week. He was flipping through channels and flipped past it, and she got excited and pointed at the tv until he turned it back. She then sat down and watched it for a while. The girl definitely knows what she likes, and is not at all afraid to tell you in any way she can communicate it.

In addition to saying ba, she also says something that could be 'hi' - it comes out as "I!" and is usually to get your attention. It makes sense, since we say hi to her to get her attention.

Some of her new favourite games (and old ones that never get tired) are piano playing (on someone's lap or from the floor), dancing to music, pulling disks out of the ps3, knocking stacked blocks over, assisted walking (either by holding hands or by pushing her walker thing around), and flinging herself between people who catch her - it's nearly like trying to walk, but she doesn't take steps so much as throw her entire body at you and expect you to catch her. Naturally, she's either grinning or laughing the entire time.

She has favourite songs & music videos too. She loves Twinkle Twinkle little star, and Daft Punk's Around the World. She will dance and smile to anything she likes, and ignore whatever she doesn't like.

She's also enjoying daycare more every day, which is nice. The interaction with other babies has been great - she hasn't had that much time to play with other babies her own age, so I'm really happy with the amount of socialization she's getting.

Last night I dreamed she was starting to repeat words we said to her. She's not quite there yet, but I don't think it's that far off. The thought of her being able to say things to us is a little mind-blowing at times, and also very exciting. Then again, every single thing that I get to see her figure out is just amazing.

Babies are little geniuses. I wish I could learn at that rate now.

There's a lot going on this week.

On Sunday Adam's bank card didn't work at Tim Horton's for breakfast, so he called the bank. They confirmed that his card had been compromised. When they went over recent transactions and found a $400.00 withdrawal from a bank machine in Quebec, we were not impressed. We were less impressed to learn that, while the bank will refund us the money, it would not be immediate and there would be paperwork, and it would likely take a few weeks. Naturally, this is around rent cheque time, and our rent hadn't yet been removed from our account - and we were now short.

Fortunately for us I had a cheque for some photography work I had done that I hadn't yet put into my photography account. I deposited that to cover rent, and promptly started wondering how I was going to pay for Adam's birthday present next week. Still haven't figured that one out.

For the moment, we are in limbo with the bank account stuff. Adam's card doesn't work, so he needs a new one, which means going in to a branch to pick one up. This was his plan for this morning before work.

He woke up this morning feeling kind of crappy, but then he's been feeling on and off crappy since Lyra's birthday or so in early July, so I guess he didn't think much of it beyond "I feel crappy." He hopped on a bus to head down to the bank and had to get off two stops later due to extreme nausea. He walked over to our doctor's office and got in to see her pretty much immediately.

The Doctor expressed some concerns about him having lost weight, and decided that it's probably been the same thing wrong with him for the past month. She ordered a barrage of blood tests and the like, and sent him off to the lab with instructions to avoid Lyra and stay home from work until they know what he's got, in case it's something bad and contagious (Norwalk?) or something along those lines.

Off he went to the lab, which is just upstairs from the doctor's office. They took a few vials of blood, and then he passed out on the floor. He tells me that he lay there for about fifteen minutes until he felt up to walking home. Our apartment building and the lab have one small building separating them... he was in pretty rough shape.

Since then, he's been hanging out at home, mostly sleeping and feeling terrible. I left work a bit early to pick up Lyra and bring her home - normally he picks her up after work. She's doing okay - she doesn't seem to have whatever it is that he has, right now. Still, we're playing it safe and he's not spending much time with her, which really sucks for both of them.

Adam has an unknown illness that might be serious, is hopefully treatable, and may be contagious, but we can't do a thing until we know what it was. And some asshats stole our bank card information and then stole cash from out of our account the day after was due to come out. We're just lucky it hadn't yet, or it would have bounced. Or maybe it did and we just don't know it yet. I have no idea how it works with this bank, I haven't bounced a cheque in years.

My stress levels are slightly elevated. Also, I need to eat my dinner before I develop a blood sugar imbalance.

Tomorrow morning I pack up Lyra first thing in the morning and walk her to daycare before heading on to work. I am of mixed emotions about this, as I am sure many others have been before me. There are a lot of random thoughts cascading around in my head tonight. I worry that Lyra's not going to get enough to eat at daycare - she's not all that into food, most of the time. I worry that I'm going to spend my entire lunch pumping milk without having a chance to take a break and eat. I worry that I won't fit into the new format and team that they've developed at my office in the year I've been gone. I worry that my daily two hours of commuting time is going to make me crazy. I worry that I'm going to be exhausted, that getting up extra early and getting out the door is going to be incredibly hard, that I'm not going to get enough sleep to be all that functional, that I'm going to spend too much money on expensive coffee because I don't really like the cheap stuff.

All this worrying is not really something I do much, so it's making me kind of moody. I'm already exhausted and I haven't even gone back yet. We can't afford for me to not go back, and to be fair I really do enjoy my workplace. I should be excited. Instead I'm just kind of worried. I can accept that, tomorrow I'll be at work either way.

Today we went to a mountain bike trail building day on Fromme, which got me thinking more about my relationship with riding these days.

Lately I've also been trying to get back into biking. What I've figured out is my lack of fundamental skill and learning is a problem lately. I'm afraid of momentum, I'm afraid to go too fast or feel like my bike is leaving me behind, which sometimes you have to do to get past obstacles. I'm nervous about riding in general, so I hesitate rather than make plans to get out on my bike - and end up not going at all. I've been out riding twice I think in the past few months, because I don't make plans to get out. I don't really want to ride the trails that are close to me, they're all at a level that I'm not comfortable with, and rather than going out to practice on them and try to develop skills I just feel like crap because I can't ride anything. I get filled with panic and freeze up. It's not fun, and saying I should just keep riding till I get over it doesn't help. I know, I've tried telling myself that.

Plus with Lyra I'm more worried about hurting myself badly. This is a sport where you expect that you will fall, because you aren't always going to ride perfectly, you can't predict changes in the trail, and things can happen that are entirely out of your control. It's part of what makes riding fun.

At least I feel a bit like I've figured out that problem - I need to go back to the basics, to learn beginner skills that I've never really had, and to ride trails that aren't full of technical features that freak me out. I need to pretend like I've never ridden before and start from scratch. I need to ride places that aren't on the North Shore. I really need to get out and actually ride, but I know now that means I have to go out and do trails that no one else feels like doing because they're too easy. I'm not talking Floppy Bunny easy either... I'm not there yet. I used to be, but I'm not anymore. I'm just barely able to deal with riding the Richard Juryn trail, and I still walk stupid little things on that because I panic. I think I need to do some XC.

So maybe with going back to work I'll feel more comfortable spending the money to take out a co-op car and go riding from time to time. I miss the times when I really enjoyed riding. I'm not really interested in going to Whistler, or trying to push my limits by riding on the North Shore. I want to start slow and easy. And I don't feel like joining another club. I barely make it to the rides the club I'm already in does. I guess I should really start there with the weekly XC rides, and see what I can figure out beyond that.

I guess there's a lot on my mind tonight. Hopefully I will sleep just fine - I'm certainly tired enough.

... because I'm never self-analytical. Nor am I sarcastic.

As I walked home from dropping off the co-op minivan this morning, baby seat slung over my shoulder, I thought about some of the things that I do and things that I have. Last night, for example, I went out with the MuddBunnies to photograph riders working on various stunts. I've been working on a couple of websites lately, building or managing content or figuring out problems for people. I'm re-visiting my NaNoWriMo novel from a couple of years back, thinking I should really get on the whole 'editing' thing, much as I loathe editing - I'm pretty sure it was a good story, worth following up.

Last week I did a bit of tootling around in the woods on my bike with the aforementioned MuddBunnies. I'm kind of hoping when Adam gets his recording studio all set up again I'll be able to convince him to help me record a few songs for Lyra (a personalized children's album, if you will.) In just over a week, I'm heading back to work at the The David Suzuki Foundation after my year off with Lyra - a job which I was incredibly proud to get, where I feel like I belong and am actually really happy to go to work most of the time. I love to write, and I think much of the time I'm pretty good at it - even if I'm not, it makes me happy. When I want some relatively mindless entertainment, I can happily play video games and geek out on the internets.

At home I have an awesome relationship with my husband, even with the weirdness that comes when you first have a baby together. If anything, we're a stronger unit than we've ever been, I think. I have a fantastic, good-natured, happy, smart, funny, beautiful little girl whom I adore, and who lights up every time she sees me. I am probably among the best-rested parents I know, to the point that sometimes I'm afraid to mention it in casual conversation - I've been getting enough sleep since Lyra was probably three or four months old, and before that I only hit the exhaustion wall very occasionally. I've taken to motherhood well; in fact, I've never really felt more balanced in who I am than I do now.

North Vancouver is a fantastic city to live in, and I love being so close to the mountains. I can get out on a trail on very short notice, and I try to take advantage of that fact whenever possible. If the situation changed and we decided to move somewhere, I'm comfortable with the concept that I could easily re-integrate into a new place; especially if we were staying in BC, since I'm now utterly addicted to mountains.

I know that I have a lot on my plate at any given moment, but since before this I would go bonkers with boredom if I had nothing to do, I think I might be in a perfect place. I have enough to do to keep me busy most of the time, enough downtime that I don't get overwhelmed most of the time, and at this moment I wouldn't have it any other way. I feel like I've got it together for now, and it is an awesome feeling.

It's bound to change sometime, but for now I am not going to worry about it.

The thought occurred to me as I walked home this morning that if I met myself, I would be utterly, hopelessly intimidated, to the point that I would be terrified of talking to me. I would probably avoid talking to this girl who does a million different things and has it all so together, feeling like I was somehow inadequate next to her; that she would never be interested in talking to me. I feel that way about most people I know who aren't me; the ones who aren't quite friends, but who I see or talk to reasonably often. They intimidate me.

Realizing this makes me stop and wonder why I'm so nervous about talking to people. It's a main component of my anxiety - talking to people who I either don't know, or don't know well, because I think I'm somehow not worthy. How ridiculous is that? I'm no more or less worthy of talking to / hanging out with someone than any other human being. Who am I to judge whether or not I'm of a certain worthiness to be allowed to talk to someone? Such hang-ups we acquire when we're young... I think my next personal goal shall be to work through that fallacy in my brain.

Because really, I'm tired of being more afraid of you than you are of me. It's really time for me to just quit being afraid at all.

I watch my daughter sleeping, just like all the clichés say you will. I can't help it - I'm still so enamoured with her that I can't imagine ever being tired of looking at her. Every time I watch her sleep I marvel over how much bigger she is than she used to be - and every time, she's grown. I don't really remember what it was like when she was smaller. It's hard to believe sometimes that this little girl has ever been any size other than what she is now, and then I look at her again and she's so much bigger than I expect her to be.

Someone asked me the other day if I feel as though I've changed with motherhood. I don't feel like I've changed. I feel a bit like I've grown into myself, like I'm somehow more myself than I used to be, and that feels good to me. I'm still who I was, just more focussed, and more complete. Was I incomplete before? I can't remember, but that's partly because I can't imagine life without Lyra in it anymore.

It's amazing to me how absolutely in love with this little girl I really am. Sometimes when I look at her face I can see the child she's going to be - like I can see shadows of who she'll grow into overlaid on her sweet little face. I can see them especially when she's sleeping, or when she's figuring things out, all lost in thought and serious.

I think about the issues everyone I know has with their parents, and like everyone else, I'm sure, hope desperately that the issues we will have someday won't be too painful. I try not to fool myself into thinking they won't exist... I'm pretty sure even the best mother/daughter relationships have their own quirks and problems. They will exist. I will work to try and keep them to a reasonably sane level. We'll see how that goes.

Occasionally I get hit with a wave of irrational or semi-rational fear, like when I'm driving somewhere and imagine suddenly a car coming from nowhere and smashing into me, or having to avoid something and driving off the road, or walking across the street at the wrong time even and getting run down (apparently I have an irrational fear of cars.) It's practically debilitating for a split second while my brain runs through scenarios of me being killed and not being around to take care of Lyra, or see her grow up; and scenarios where I lose her somehow. The thoughts are physically painful to me, for just a moment or two until I get a better grasp on my subconscious and beat it into submission.

Am I a good mother? The perfectionist in me likes to ramble in my head about what I should be doing that I'm not, and what I should be doing better. That part of me compares myself to other moms, and Lyra to other babies. The realist in me knows that I can't attain perfection, that I often hold myself up to unrealistic standards that I would never impose on any other human being. I'm not a bad mother. I'm willing to admit, on some days, that I might even be a good mother. I'm being myself, and being a mom... and it's actually a lot of fun.

And no, I am not looking for reassurances from people that I'm doing fine. I know I am - Lyra is happy and healthy and awesome, and that's the best indicator I've got.

Nine years ago I mentioned to cyn that I wanted to try online journalling. On May the 4th 2000, I started up this livejournal for kicks, to see what might come of it. Here I am 9 years later, still updating, although a lot has changed since then - the frequency of my updates, the city I'm updating from, my marital status, and most recently, the addition of Lyra to the story. Some things haven't changed - I still get bored sometimes, I still have Dayle & Sera, the kitties who have followed me across the country, and my tendency to write long-winded entries about random subjects that matter to me.

It's hard to believe I've been writing online for nine years. The internets have changed so much since then.

Then again, so have I. If you want to see how much, you could be ambitious and start from the very beginning...

When I went on maternity/parental leave, I had visions of getting involved in mommy groups, going to baby & mommy playtimes and songtimes and other random groups that are designed to entertain babies and help mothers feel a sense of community, and discover new friends to replace the ones who slowly vanish when kids come into the picture. You know; the friends who don't have kids, the ones you used to go out and do things that aren't kid-friendly with. Kind of like losing a percentage of your single friends when you get into a serious relationship. But I digress.

I imagined that I would get involved in my community, find people to talk parenting with (although it wasn't a side of me I could actually see, I had faith that it would come out), and generally have this whole 'North Van Mom' identity.

It hasn't happened.

My prenatal group of moms makes an effort to get together once every four months or so. We enjoy visiting for an afternoon, but it's not a common occurrence and we don't go out of our way to make it a regular weekly thing by any means. One of them I see more than the rest - she lives down the road from me so we will get together and go for a walk every two weeks or so. So that's something I guess, but I wouldn't call us really close by any measure.

I spent a few months going to the La Leche League meetings, which were interesting and all, but never made friends with anyone through that - I never once talked to them outside the group, I didn't exchange phone numbers or emails with them, and we never planned playgroups and afternoon tea with each other. Or at least, if some of them did, I wasn't involved. I am rather terrible at making conversation with strangers, or approaching people I don't know well and interjecting myself into their conversations. It makes me uncomfortable. At any rate, I stopped going a while ago because reminder emails started going into my spam filter, and I'm fairly certain it wasn't really noticed. I don't have much to say there, really.

I tried to join a baby & me boot camp back in November, and it got cancelled before it even began. Theoretically I could join one again, but really, I don't have the extra cash to keep joining classes.

Lyra and I started Baby Bubbles in January, which was fun. We went through the entire 12 week class, and we talked to the other moms & babies in the class, but I never felt like I had reached a comfort zone of wanting to ask about going for coffee. A lot of them already knew each other anyhow. Again, I don't interject myself well. I signed us up for a second session of Baby Bubbles, which we're now doing. This time I'm not really expecting anything more than going, playing in the pool for a while, then coming home.

So I'm not outgoing and sociable. I enjoy spending time with people, I like being part of a group, but it's not something that comes naturally to me. Never has, probably never will. Most of the time I don't feel like it's missing from my life, but sometimes I really want to talk to a group of moms about our babies, and fish for ideas and suggestions in a group of like-minded parents when I need some advice or alternatives, and give Lyra the opportunity to play with other babies close in age to her now that she's showing an interest in doing so.

But I'm running out of time. I feel like time is counting down, and the end of my leave is rapidly approaching. There are things I wish I had done - vague concepts of things, anyhow - that I haven't, and I don't think I'll fit them in. I guess it's more a sense of loss than anything. Sending Lyra to daycare of some sort means that she will have the opportunity to play with other kids her own age... but I won't be there to see it, and that makes me feel sad. And I feel like I've missed out on something with not having a group, however small, of other moms with babies to confide in, to talk about my problems with, to discuss poop because let's face it, no one wants to hear about poop but other moms with babies understand why you feel the need to talk about it, and will let you.

I'm just running out of time. I wish I could afford to just hang out with Lyra full time. I love doing it, and I can't shake the feeling that if I just had more time these relationships would happen. But realistically speaking, it's not possible. I can't daydream about getting a car at the same time as I daydream about staying home with Lyra for just a few more years... I can't have both. I can't even have one of them. They're both out of reach. I will do the best with what I have, and can do.

That's all anyone can do, right?

A few days ago Lyra turned nine months old.

That's nine months of changing diapers (I was afraid I would get sick of it, but it's just something I do), of washing baby clothes, of staring at you trying to figure out who you look like (you have my eyes), of listening to you scream with delight or growl like a possessed demon at us (or the cats, or your toys, or fish at the aquarium), of wondering who you are, of watching that personality make its way out through the barriers of language you have yet to cross, of taking picture after picture after picture of you...

You're crawling now, although sometimes it seems more like you're trying to walk on your feet and just can't figure out how to push your body and hands up off the ground. You don't entirely have a grasp on space yet - under the coffee table, where toys sometimes go, is a frustrating cycle of reach for the toy, bonk your head on the coffee table, yell for a minute, repeat. You love to upend the cat food & water bowls and play with the computer cables that go around the room - until we figure out how to move or hide those, we will continue to yell "Reset baby!" as we move you back to the centre of the room away from the temptations - which you immediately head for again.

A little charmer, you have fans at the local coffee shop, and walking down the street, and at the stores we frequent. Smiles for strangers are rare, and often require special efforts on the part of the stranger. So many times I've seen you give a stranger a solemn stare while they make faces at you trying to elicit a smile. When you do offer one up, it's like a beam of sunshine after a week of Vancouver winter. Little old ladies have been known to cross the street and cut me off just to talk to you.

Food is adding a whole new level to things these days. It took you a while to warm up to the concept, but you'll now happily chew on cheerios, or feed yourself messily with a spoon - peas and yams and avocados and all sorts of other random foods we try without much rhyme or reason. Sometimes you want a taste of what I'm having - you loved the butter chicken, even though it was spicy, and you chewed on my pizza crust for quite a while. Tonight I made butternut squash soup for everyone - and we all loved it. Tonight was the first time I made dinner for all three of us. It kind of made me wish we had a dining table to eat at, but we make do without one just fine.

You've also started to realize that things happen on screens that are somehow related to real life. Today you saw a PBS HD Special on Patagonia, and your favourite scenes were full of pumas (yay kitties!) foxes (yay puppies!) and Guanacos (kinda like Llamas... yay puppies again?) You especially loved when the Guanago chased the fox through the meadow. That made you crack up into giggles, which set me off, of course. You watched an episode of Pingu on Youtube with your dad tonight and seemed to actually understand what was going on, rather than just being amused by the moving pictures. You got upset when the seal hurt his flipper, and you were happy when he got better. It's a whole new world now.

Tonight playing piano with your dad you realized that the lower keys play low notes and the higher keys play high notes - apparently you had to play both. You also figured out that if you put you head on top of your hands to push down on the piano keys, the sound is louder. Tiny little realizations in your head that we get to see happening - it's like magic sometimes. There are so many new games you're playing with us; half the time we don't even realize it until we're well into it.

What I do know is that you are amused by strange things (much like we are) and that you seem to be plotting something sinister and mischievous much of the time. You are becoming yourself, and I get to watch. It's all so exciting.

Lyra is asleep in my lap, so I'm going to take the opportunity to write.

I've been working on getting her to nap in the bassinet. It isn't really going quickly, or all that well, to be honest. Most of my successes are either short-lived (she stays asleep for fifteen minutes then wakes up terrified and crying because she's alone) or few and far between. I think she's slept for longer than fifteen minutes during the day maybe twice ever. Tonight, since I'm going out to the Muddbunnies AGM, I've given up trying to get her to nap elsewhere. It is better for her to have slept and be happy for her daddy while he gets to take care of her on his own for the evening. We will return to trying the bassinet again tomorrow.

In developmental news, I think Lyra is getting closer to crawling every day. She can hold herself up off the ground on her arms and legs, in a crawl position, just fine. She doesn't yet have the coordination to move forward, but you can see that it's coming along. She also loves sitting up, and is starting to launch herself forward onto her hands from sitting when she wants to reach something out of her reach. That's really just a step away from launching into a crawl. I'm both excited at her imminent mobility and afraid of the repercussions. I'm hoping that my mom can come over sometime soon and help me re-organize the apartment to make it babyproof. Things like the old bassinet have to get moved out, as well as the change table, and we need to find a solution for Lyra's clothing collection. At some point I really must pick her up a small dresser or something.

It's amazing to watch her change so quickly. When she learns a new skill, it's instantaneous, and she knows it - as soon as she's figured out how to do something, she can do it, without seeming to need practice. There's something awe-inspiring about watching how a human develops skills so naturally, and it makes it so easy to celebrate things that I would have previously taken for granted - like sitting up unassisted, reaching for things and trading them from hand to hand, putting her arms up to indicate she wants to be picked up, and that sort of thing. To see the moment that she first figures it out, and to see how she can do it from that moment on is something amazing that never occurred to me as being so before. I've never spent this much time with a baby before, so I've never had the opportunity to see this sort of development first-hand.

Sure, I've raised plenty of kittens and puppies and the like, but it really isn't the same, in that sense. Kittens and puppies develop fast - they can already walk within days of being born. There's something entirely different, though, about watching and helping a creature of your own species learn how to be. Lyra has always been a small person in my eyes, and watching and helping her discover how to be that person is inspiring. I helped bring this little person into the world, and that is just amazing.

On the other hand, of course, I get these occasional flashes of fear - fear that something could happen to her, the kind of fear that makes my stomach churn and my heart sink and my mouth dry - and fear that something could happen to me, the kind that overwhelms me with sadness at the thought that I might miss her growing up, that I might not be there to help her when she needs me, to the point that I nearly want to cry thinking about it. There is so much emotion invested in this little person sleeping on my lap that it's impossible to explain to anyone else adequately. And I'm not someone who worries about the worst that could happen any more. I used to be, but I taught myself to be calm, and not to worry about things, and to look on the bright side, just like Monty Python told me to. I feel like I'm a better person for that. But these waves of fear that appear and then vanish in a moment - they're visceral; subconscious, even. And maybe I'm a better person for having them, too.

Then I look at Adam, and I feel this sense of love and accomplishment that I've found someone so good for me as he is. I went through a lot of rough and disappointing relationships before we got together. I was promised or engaged three or four times before him - and I feel lucky that none of those worked out, because looking back, none would have been the right person for me, and some would have been the entirely wrong person. I feel like he's my partner, my equal, and my balance, and now we have a daughter together - the natural progression of a relationship that has been going on for twelve years, from a solid friendship, to lovers, to parents. I have no fear that after we've raised our child(ren?) we will still have that solid basis that we built our life together on. We have evolved together this far, it isn't that much of a stretch to assume we will continue to do so, with a little work. The work isn't that difficult for us, as long as we remember to do it. I don't think it will be a problem.

So here I am now: a mommy, a wife, and still myself - just evolved a little more, and excited about everything to come. Life is good.

This past year has been a big one for me. Everything has changed since this time last year.

January
In January I told the whole world (what little of it I hadn't told already) about my pregnancy. We were calling the little unborn one Ultra Magnus, which amused us to no end, and seemed to horrify some of the extended family. My first few months of pregnancy I was tired a lot of the time - falling asleep on breaks at my desk at work, coming home from work and sleeping immediately after I was done dinner, and so on. I didn't have cravings, so much as anti-cravings, where I would hate a specific food for a while (perogies comes to mind.) I also took on a new full time contract at work - doing the web stuff instead of reception.

February
We had our first Ultrasound on February 7th - a bit early because they thought we might not be as far along as previously guessed. We started planning and budgeting our last pre-baby vacation to Arizona. I started to feel and look pregnant, too. I admitted to myself that I liked American Idol.

March
We had another ultrasound. I started to feel the baby moving. Eli & I crashed the Graphex Awards dinner for a chance to meet zeFrank. I discovered that Ultra Magnus kicked and moved around more when I ate chocolate. I signed up for Twitter.

April
Adam lost his wallet a few days before we went on our babymoon trip to Arizona. There were many photos taken.

May
My boobs got huge, as noticed by spadoink. There was a fire in the building across the street, where three people died. My baby's Ultrasound became evidence in an FBI investigation in an adoption fraud case.

June
We had a third ultrasound and established that I had placenta previa, which meant I couldn't go into labour. They scheduled me for a c-section.

July
They told me that my c-section date (and baby's birthday) was to be July 10. On July 7th they phoned me to confuse the issue and move it up a day to the 9th. I twittered from the hospital after the baby was born. Adam posted the first photos of Lyra Morgan Silver at my request, since I was in the hospital. We sort of settled into a newborn routine, and things were good. July was a big month.

August
Lyra and I spent our first day alone together. I had a bit of an epiphany. My brother got married and I took pictures for him. I started the diaper service and accepted my fate as a human mattress for Lyra.

September
I ruminated on my status as a mammal and got a new bike, and started riding again. I started thinking about Christmas and toys for Lyra - instilling a no-plastic rule.

October
I turned 32. Lyra learned how to laugh, and it was the sweetest sound ever. Lyra got dressed up as an Elephant for her first Halloween, and had a fun evening with her Bubby Tyna.

November
I had a few rough days. I wrote a little about Bedsharing. I blindsided oki_v2 and took him mountain biking when he came to visit. Lyra became a brain-eating Zombie.

December
I realized that I'm now a coffee addict. I recorded a bunch of observations about life with Lyra. I finally sold Huffy. I took some painfully cute photos of Lyra in her Christmas outfit. Lyra's first tooth appeared. We watched every Star Trek movie over three days time. Vancouver got hit with a giant storm and basically fell apart. Lyra's second tooth showed up.

It's been a great year, full of changes. I've changed jobs into a real career instead general admin. Biggest thing though: I have a daughter now, and it's the greatest thing ever. Happy New Year to everyone reading this!

It's long, so I'll put it behind ( a cut )

They're testing the emergency lights and fire alarm. It is irritating, and made me a little panicked the first time it went off. I started trying to figure out the best way to get out of the house with Lyra if I needed to do so. Unfortunately this happens at the expense of the cats. I haven't figured out a way around it. It didn't have to happen today, obviously, but it still unsettled me quite a bit.

I don't really know what Adam said to me in the morning before he left work, but what my sleeping brain interpreted was not particularly nice. I'm pretty sure my brain is interpreting it wrong, but it still managed to put me into a bad mood and feeling resentful when I actually woke up. That and the fire alarms. And massive poop explosions from Lyra.

I've put all of our towels into the washing machine downstairs. I have to run the washing machine up here too - baby stuff is overflowing. There is an endless supply of stuff to get done.

I haven't had any breakfast because we don't seem to actually have any breakfast food right now. I should've gotten milk when I was out yesterday but I forgot. Lack of food is making me irritated and giving me a headache.

Right now Lyra is sitting on the floor (propped up) and complaining to me. I need a few minutes to pull myself together, however.

Yesterday Adam went riding in the morning. I decided to post Huffy on Craigslist and see if I could get her sold. Huffy was officially sold within three hours of my posting her, and at the price that I listed her at, which was a pretty good deal for someone who knows a bit about cars - there really wasn't much wrong with the car, and it had pretty low mileage for its age. It is amazing how good it felt to get rid of the car, finally. We took it off the road last year in November because we didn't want to sink more money into it, and started using the Co-operative Auto Network instead. That worked well enough that we decided to sell the car, which I asked Adam to take care of. I didn't really want to deal with it, as I had a lot of things going on with the pregnancy and such. Plus, Huffy was in his name, so he had to be the official seller.

Adam never really got around to making an effort to sell it, which stressed me out rather a lot on one or two occasions. For the past few months I think we both just ignored the car's existance. It kept bothering me, though, every time I looked out in the parking lot and saw the car sitting there. Yesterday I was sitting at home with Lyra while Adam was out biking, and I thought I'd just post the car on Craigslist at a good price, be up front about whatever was wrong with it, and list it using Adam's email address. My plan was to force him to deal with whoever looked into it.

Curious if he'd got any emails about it, I had to check it. Adam was still out riding, but there was already one message from a very interested guy, complete with phone number. It couldn't hurt to call him, I thought, so I did. He wanted to come over and see the car as soon as possible, and said he could come by in twenty minutes or so. I agreed, and when I got off the phone called Adam to tell him he should come home soon, since I was apparently about to sell the car, and I needed him there to do so. I think he was surprised.

The guy arrived on cue, so I took him out to see Huffy. Just as we walked out to where she was parked, Adam got home from riding - all muddy and damp. After taking a look at the car, he decided to take it, and went to get the cash & transfer papers.

Three hours. It was that easy. I feel so much lighter having the car gone. And I put some money into savings. Good things all.

Lyra is 9 days shy of five months old. She's just under thirteen pounds now - and she's lean and strong. There are so many things that change so fast, I want to write some things down while I still remember.

I can't get over the feeling I get when I look at her. She's just so completely perfect and beautiful and awe-inspiring. The other night she was asleep in my arms, like she often is in the evenings before bedtime, and she woke up briefly. She opened her eyes and looked up into mine as I looked down at her, and it was all I could do not to burst into tears at the look of absolute trust and calm she gave me before closing her eyes and snuggling back in to sleep. My heart simply melted, and I had an overwhelming re-affirmation of the feeling that I would do anything to keep her safe and happy.

She rolled over the other day. I put her down for tummy time, which she doesn't particularly enjoy. She's strong - she can hold up the front half of her body like she's doing upward-facing dog or something, no problem there, but she really does not like the vantage point. As I watched her lying there complaining about the situation (proof that she's got her daddy's tendency to chat nonstop when she wants to) I was thrilled to see her push over on to her side, and then onto her back. After that she pushed herself around the floor with her feet, much happier to be off her tummy. Adam told me that yesterday she went the other way - back to tummy - and promptly started to complain about it. When it comes down to it, all she wants to do is stand up, all the time. And fall down. She really likes that part too.

Her favourite games have progressed from the tongue mirror game (I stick out my tongue, she sticks out hers - we don't play that one anymore, it was a very early game) to anything that involves bouncing, jumping, squealing, dancing, roaring, flying, falling, kicking, and gnawing. I swear her first words might be OM NOM NOM NOM at this rate considering how much she loves the zombie game. Making her laugh is relatively easy now, and hearing her laugh makes me want to keep her laughing as long as possible.

My friend Brooke (a photographer) did a photo shoot of me when I was very pregnant. I only just found the pictures now, and I'm happy to share them if you'd like to check out the gallery. (NSFW)

Lyra inherited my fingernails - strong and fast-growing. I have to trim her nails every two or three days to prevent her scratching her face up, or me, or Adam. They're little claws.

We saw a picture of Adam as a baby the other day. Lyra looks a lot like he did, except with eyes like mine. She definitely has the same baby smile that he had.

She loves to go outside - hiking on the mountains, down by the ocean, walking up and down Lonsdale, either in the sling or carrier, or in her stroller. Being outside makes her happy. Random people stop me in the street to comment on her incredible cuteness - especially the enormous cheeks. Everyone loves her cheeks. According to the baristas at our favourite coffee shop, Brazza, she's their favourite baby that comes in. We've been going in there since she was a few days old. I think Brazza was our first trip outside the house after I got home from the hospital. They know us pretty well there.

Breastfeeding - now there's a subject full of controversy. For myself - it was hard to start off, with Lyra being early, and sleepy, and falling asleep every second time she sucked. We had to fight with her to keep her awake for the first few weeks of feeding - cold water drops, blowing on her, keeping her cool - doing anything we could to keep her awake and feeding. And my milk coming in was downright painful, until I discovered hot compresses. These days, though, Lyra knows how to do it - she's very efficient, and can feed in five minutes easily. I definitely produce plenty of milk for her (some days it's too much, and I have to express just for my own comfort.) I'm happy to feed her any time she wants, and anywhere, although she's just starting to get distracted by things going on around her when she's trying to eat. We'll see how that goes, maybe I'll need to use a blanket to cover her up or something. What I love about breastfeeding is the sheer practicality of it. it's so much easier than preparing a bottle. Lyra knows how to do it, I know how to do it, it's not uncomfortable for me, so I'll just keep at it. I enjoy it, too.

And finally, I absolutely love to watch Adam with her. He very obviously feels a strong connection to her, and loves playing with her and keeping her entertained. He's also great for changing her diapers and the usual dirty work that's involved. I know he wishes he could stay home from work to spend the days with us. He was home with her on Saturday evening while I went to the Muddbunnies calendar release party. Lyra had a bad night - uncomfortable from teething, and probably wanting her mommyto make things better. He got through it ok though, only a few text messages and calls to me, and only one breakdown where he wanted me to come home. I didn't catch an immediate ride, and things smoothed out at home enough for me to spend some more time out, so it worked out okay.

There is more, but now it's time for a walk to the Quay and back.

Today's foggy on at least two levels.

I was up at 6:30 this morning with an awake and happy LyraMonster. I was more groggy this morning than I have been in a little while, though. Last week I got off easy - she was letting me sleep in till 8 most days, and 9 once! Saturday Adam and I got up with her at 7, played for an hour, then we all went back to sleep till nearly 10. That was exciting.

Before I was pregnant I would have a coffee (latte/cappuccino) maybe once a week. When I got pregnant, in the second and third trimester I started having a latte almost once a day in the afternoon. Now that I'm a mother of a baby that's nearly 5 months old, I have reached a point where I feel like I need a cup of coffee in the morning to wake up. I don't think it's because I'm less able to wake myself up - I've always been a groggy zombie in the morning. It's just that now I actually have to try and be functional enough to take care of a little person without dropping her or tripping over my own feet.

So yeah, I'm a coffee drinker. I actually use our awesome coffee machine on a regular basis now, and I bought a pound of shade-grown organic fair trade coffee.

This morning was a super foggy day - for my brain, and outside. It was one of those fall Vancouver days where the clouds come down from the sky and blanket everything. I couldn't even see one street away when I went out on the balcony.

Lyra is fast asleep in the bassinet. I want to take a nap, but now I've had my coffee so I'm wide awake. Whee!

We're sharing our bed with Lyra, for a variety of reasons. One of these is quite simply the fact that we have chosen to do so as parents. I'm happy to share the rest of our reasons upon request, if anyone is that interested. The above link has some good articles on the subject.

I've had a few people (all of them dads, now that I think about it) tell me to hurry up and get the baby into her own bed, because they still have their child crawling into bed with them in the mornings as toddlers. I haven't said much in response, really, because right now I don't feel as though that's a problem. This is my daughter, my family, and I don't feel as though I need to separate my sleeping self from my family life.

Some of my favourite memories as a child are of sharing a bed with my mother. There were nights I would climb into bed and sleep with her (my dad was either on night shift, or sleeping in a separate bedroom for various reasons.) My mom and I would talk about all sorts of things, from the frivolous and flippant to more serious conversations, and I always felt welcome there. I sincerely think a large part of our close relationship when I was growing up was due to those times we shared that are often considered 'private time' or something - sharing her bed, or sitting in the bathroom talking to her while she took a bath. I remember these times with a lot of happiness.

Lyra doesn't like to be alone, for reasons unknown to those of us who are not babies. Or maybe it's just natural for a helpless being to realized that if it is alone it is potentially in danger. Because let's face it, we are animals too. This was half of the accidental reason she started sleeping with me. The other half was because it was so hard for me to get in and out of bed for the first month after the C-section.

I kept believing that maybe we'd get her into the bassinet for sleeping at night. I've moved on from this thought - I actually really enjoy sharing our bed, now that we have a system figured out. I'm also working on getting Lyra to nap in the bassinet during the day - it is becoming more successful with each attempt. But I no longer want to move her into the bassinet at night. I'm happy to start her in the bassinet, and move her into bed with us when we go to sleep, and we're starting to reach that point.

So back to the admonition from other people - "Make sure you move her out of your bed AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!" I don't want to. I don't need my bed to be a private place where no kids are allowed. As for physically intimate time with Adam - once I'm more interested (wow, does breastfeeding ever lower your libido! But that's another subject altogether, perhaps for another post) we can find a place and time without that much trouble - especially if Lyra is sleeping in the bassinet in the early evening, or for naps. I'm so tired by the time we go to bed that even if we did have it to ourselves I wouldn't want to do anything then anyhow.

Right at this moment, Lyra is sleeping in the bassinet for a nap. I'm focusing today on convincing her to sleep in there, using some extreme patience and letting her know that I'm here and she's safe. She's been in there for half an hour now, waking up in a little bit of a panic about six or seven times so far, but allowing me to calm her back down to sleep. This is a small success for me. If she can nap in the bassinet, I can work on things that require two hands, like writing and cooking and laundry.

So in a few years when Lyra's got her own room and still wants to climb into bed with mommy & daddy, will I be frustrated by it? I don't really know, but right now, I can't imagine feeling that way. I don't equate bed exclusively with privacy, or with sex, or anything along those lines. Maybe for some intimacy with their partner can be rediscovered by keeping children out of their bed. I think I'd rather find another way to redefine my relationship with Adam. I really am heading towards writing about that next, aren't I?

Today will have to be better.

My biking yesterday got cancelled because my biking partner had to pick up her sick daughter from daycare. I was disappointed, but obviously would have the same priorities.

Unfortunately for me, I had been really counting on that bike ride to get out and energize myself, clear my brain, and have some me time. When it didn't happen, I started to feel a bit overwhelmed, exhausted and lost.

On the other hand, I knew that I had some other exercise to look forward to. A couple of weeks ago I signed myself up for a Fit for 2 mommy & baby bootcamp, twice a week at the rec centre around the corner from me. It was to start this coming Monday.

Last night, I got a call from the rec centre. Apparently, not enough people signed up for the bootcamp, so it was being cancelled. I had the option of transferring to one of the other ones at other rec centres, but they were either on the wrong day (I have one day a week I need to be at home in the early afternoon, and that's when it was) or they were at a rec centre that was not particularly close. I opted to get my money back, and as soon as I was off the phone with them I felt like I was mentally and emotionally wilting. Naturally, at that moment Lorne, Anne and Owen arrived for dinner.

I was rather proud of myself for signing up for a bootcamp type thing. I was also scared, but felt good about it. It was to be twice a week, an hour each time, and because it's a mommy/baby thing, Lyra was going to be part of it and go with me so I wouldn't have to cancel due to babysitting problems or whatnot. Plus, being a paid class I would make myself go. I can't seem to do that with the gym - I feel aimless and unmotivated to just go to the gym and use the machines or whatever. Plus, I can't do that during the weekdays with Lyra - I don't think they welcome babies in the general workout rooms. Oh yeah, and my rec centre gym membership expired last February.

These two disappointments in and of themselves wouldn't normally be that bad. I can go biking on another day. I can find another fitness class to take with Lyra (athough there aren't that many.) But this week has been rough on my psyche. It's started pouring rain, which is to be expected in the Lower Mainland in November. I have only left the apartment to go for coffee and come home, maybe twice times since Monday. I got my recovery time in from last week's being out so much, but I'm oversaturated with inside time now. I wasted the two nice days I had weather-wise this week staying in and cleaning the apartment, which, to be fair, needed it. The problem is, I needed to get out. I didn't. Today I will have to do something, but I don't know what yet. I should call one of the other moms I know and see if she's willing to go for a walk in the rain.

I need an excuse to test the new jacket I got that fits over Lyra while I'm wearing the sling. And I need to find some sanity.

I am frustrated, exhausted, and have a headache. Also I have too much to get done right now and not enough free hands. Lyra's currently on the floor on her play mat, but she's been there for about ten minutes while I put away laundry, and is likely to get cranky and loud at any moment. She's already complaining.

Yesterday was the first day I had to recover and relax from visiting family. I rather wanted to just sleep in (hah!) and maybe just relax and play games all day, but there was other stuff I had to get done around the apartment instead. I managed to get some of it done, anyhow - some laundry and the kitchen (although then I went and messed it up by having lunch. Stupid lunch) and a little bit of tidying up, but not nearly what I wanted to get done. I was just too exhausted to finish everything, and I knew I'd be home today to work on some more. Which I am. So now I'm putting laundry away and starting at least one more load, and doing the kitchen again from dinner last night, and just generally tidying up the living room. Plus I'm trying to clean up the bedroom too, which looks like a tornado hit it.

To be honest, I'm just feeling frustrated and flustered and I keep getting annoyed that I have to stop in the middle of everything I'm trying to do because Lyra needs changing, feeding, playing with, naps (which this week have only worked when she sleeps on me, which is the most frustrating part of all.) So I'm kind of irritated and headachey and while stuff's getting done, it's a very slow process and I can't see my way to the end of it yet.

On top of that it's lunchtime and I need to figure out what to eat, and make it. Might as well leave the kitchen clean-up till after lunch, I guess - that way it'll all get done at once. Oh yeah, and I need to do some pumping of milk so I can go for a bike ride tomorrow.

On the upside, there is a single deciduous half-way up Grouse Mountain in amongst the pine trees. It's turned bright orange - a weird orange spot against the deep green. I had to pull out binoculars yesterday to identify what it was... it's pretty. I do love fall. I should be outside enjoying this nice day, it's going to be miserable tomorrow I think. Maybe later, if I get stuff done and it's not dark yet.