Posts Tagged ‘growth’

Here here here.

July 27, 2012

I’m here. We all are. And I have lots to say. Much of it more insane worries over how tall my kids may or may not be.

Pushing that little bit of my own personal crazy aside, I’d like to say for posterity that we had Coconut tested for a peanut allergy. She had a few hives when the kids tried peanut butter, but her reaction was pushed to the side in light of his much more severe reaction. The doctor said if she was borderline, her immune system has kicked that allergy’s ass.

Snort wasn’t so lucky on the peanut front. His skin prick showed a bigger reaction than last year. The doctor also wanted him tested for wheat, but it wasn’t available. He tested negative to early flowering trees, which was a shock.

But the biggest shock of all – his immune system is kicking the egg allergy’s ass. Last year his egg reaction was much larger than the peanut. This year it was tiny. 2 mm. (whereas the peanut measured 10 mm with smaller hives all around the large one.)

He’s having blood tests to confirm that it has gone down, and then if they are okay we will soon be having an egg challenge. We get admitted to hospital, with a resuscitation team and medication at hand, and he gradually is introduced to more and more egg protein powder.

We are all excited that eggs may return into our life. We shall see, though. We’ve been warned this test is just to make sure eggs won’t kill him, but it may totally fuck up his eczema.

It’s a half day or so in the hospital. Coconut will stay with her Nana, and this will be the first time I’m the parent responsible for a hospital admission. Exciting in a totally sick way.

The doctor did ask about the height of the sperm donor, and myself, during the appointment. And before we even went in, while reviewing Snort’s chart, he came out to grab the boy’s height growth chart thing.

This has worried us. I didn’t ask for either kids’ height or weight to be given to me, so I don’t know how he measured, but we measured him at home. He was in the 98 percentile at birth, dropped to 75 and hung around there for awhile before settling and staying around 50. Well, dudes, he’s like at the ninth now.

Of course, I’ve also measured him as being in the 98. So, you know. What the fuck. I do think his growth has slowed, though, as he no longer towers over coconut. While she has held steady and perhaps even gone up a bit in percentiles. We generally don’t care about what charts say, as long as we see we have happy, healthy, thriving kids, so they haven’t been measured or weighed in a long time. If he has dropped this severely, of course I am slightly freaked.

Going to try for a same day appointment on the 3 August, so wish us luck!

Can’t believe the kids will very soon be three. Yikes!

And in TTC news, TMD is now on the pill. Things are moving forward. I start the pill in August when my next period starts. I have lots of feelings around how I haven’t been physically preparing for the process this time, largely guilt and fear, but that’s for another day.

I’ll leave this entry with the fact that we had a brutal and awesome post picnic dinner water fight last night. Massive. I did not win.

But I loved it anyway. My family are great, even of Chick-fil-a disagree. (what, you’re out of the loop? I’m getting pretty active on my Facebook page again – come find me! It’s called, predictably, ‘existere’ and features a pic of one kid pushing the other in a toy trolley.)

Figuring out the balance between mehood and motherhood.

May 2, 2012

Lauren says she wants to hear about ‘how being a SAHM is for you.’

Ever since reading her suggestion, the sentence that keeps popping into my head is, ‘It’s not enough for me.’ And it’s not that I don’t love my kids, or that I’d rather go to work every day rather than just see where each day leads. Because both of those things are great. I just feel like I’m losing me. (And did I feel this way before we moved? No, I don’t think I did. So this may be because we are somewhere new, floating with no tethers: friends for me, friends for the kids, a car, routines, and trapped inside by constant rain. But it may be something more. I guess we wait and see.)

Ever since I was a kid, I was attracted to labyrinths. And not just the sort that featured Goblin Kings. A few years back, I read an excellent blog post about early motherhood and the labyrinth. I’m going to try to hunt it down, but the author’s thoughts have stayed with me and helped me more fully comprehend and explain what I am now going through.

A labyrinth – you start at the outside and walk your way in. There are turns, twists. But there is no wrong way to go – only ever more inward. Once you reach the core, once you have navigated those turns to get to the heart of the matter, of who you are, the only thing to do is turn back around and make your way carefully back out again. You journey back towards life, armed with a deeper knowledge of your Self.

I’m in that labyrinth somewhere, trying to hold the faith that there are no wrong turns. It’s impossible to not find your way in or back out again in a classical labyrinth layout, though of course the time frame varies. Are you a walker, a ponderer? Do you run with the exuberance of a child?

Me, I have ventured in. I am deep, deep in there and I’m trying to figure out things on a pretty basic level. How do I turn around? Is it time to walk out? Where can I get a new pair of shoes for the journey?

I think much of what I’m feeling must be held in common with many mothers of young children. The job definition – whether you are a SAHM or not – means that you are no longer the number one priority. All the stuff I used to do – sleep in late, spend all day cuddled with TMD on the couch watching tv, attending and completing a grueling (and rewarding!) counselling training – it doesn’t happen anymore.

Every day I have to change nappies, wash dishes, do laundry, and suppress myself in some way. I think some of this feeling will be lightened once it finally stops raining (I’m writing this on the 29th, and it’s been raining steadily since the 14th) and I get a car. But some of it won’t.

The battle for me is: how do I give my children the best AND honour myself? Right now that seems like a seesaw. For every thing I want to give them, it means less that I can give myself. And much of what I want to do in raising creative, brave explorers of this world seems to negate me being able to have these things for myself. I tell myself it’ll get easier as they get older.

And while I’m sure that is true, I also know that it feels like my SELF – the part of me that exists independently to my wife or children – is on hold until….when? The kids are in university?

Every day I grow as a person because of my children. Every day. I would not trade being here with them, trying to help them experience and grow in the world, for anything. They make me laugh, they make me love love love. But I need something more than simply growing in relation to them, to being a mother. I need to find a way to create space for the old me, or the new me, or just me. A hobby? Dedicated time to write? Time to go out by myself?

I want my children to see me as a creative, dynamic person; I want to model that life for them not JUST for them, but because it is the life I wish to lead.

I feel like I want and need something big. A larger purpose. And is it possible to figure this out, to try to pursue dreams, when I am at home with toddler twins? Maybe.

I’m in that labyrinth, after all, and I know I’m no longer on the way in. I’m in the middle, and I’m probably facing outward. Now all I have to do is walk that path, trust in the twists and turns, and keep going. Because sunshine is there, purpose is there, connectedness is there. If I keep going.

I hope.

This post brought to you by my compelling desire to write, and complete inability to do so. Generous people have given me funny, thoughful, and factual suggestions for posts. Click here to see them, or add your own. I’ll work through them all in time.