the life of riley

First day of school

We stopped to take a photo in front of the garage, got in the car and drove down the street to the new school, chatting about all the exciting things she would do there. The teacher met her at the top of the stairs, she gave me a kiss and a hug, looked down the dozen or so stairs that led to her classroom. A few kids were crying, and for a brief moment, she looked at me, concerned and unsure. I told her I was going to Loblaws to buy her lots of yummy stuff and would see her in a short while and she took Sarah's hand and headed into her future.

2 hours later I was back, sort of expecting to hear of a meltdown. I waited with the other parents and nannies until the door was opened. She was standing there with some papers in her hand and I ran down and hugged her. She told me "these are for you, from the teachers". The teachers. The teachers gave her a glowing first day report - not a tear was shed. 

The pride I felt was immeasurable.

The new funny: Sibling edition

Jolly Jumper Joelle from Steph Karasick on Vimeo.

What was was

It seems like lately, I've been flooded with memories from the past, appearing almost like movie clips in random sequence. I stumbled across photos of Evan and I from our first year together - in New York, Hawaii, Vancouver. 5 years younger and slimmer, looking well-rested.

A conversation with an old friend prompted me to dig up my beta tapes of all the TV commercials I'd written. Evidence of my 13 years in advertising. Made me think of where each spot was shot, who I was working with, and which random apartment I was living in or which random guy I was dating.

Just back from my 20 year high school reunion in Montreal. I've written about it before, so no desire to repeat much, but suffice to say I very much disliked those years. The self-doubt, insecurity, invisibility and very bad bad clothes and hair. Being in a room with older versions of those same faces I remember seeing in the hallways and in class as I scribbled on desks, was very surreal. But now all these years later, I looked pretty good. I had confidence, self-assurance, and knew I'd done ok. It was good to feel good about myself. I liked being able to talk to people I'd never dare approach. I liked having Evan there as a witness.

Sometimes Ev and I will be driving, kids in tow, and I'll say "wouldn't it be great if we could just spontaneously go to a movie now and then maybe get some sushi afterwards followed by gelato and go for a long walk?" We were able to do that once, though of course we didn't appreciate our freedom then.

Sometimes I think of how nice it would be just to book a spontaneous trip somewhere. Or sleep in on the weekend. Or just sit in silence at home reading the paper and listening to an old Sting album.

Thump. As I sit here writing, Riley kicks her legs in the air and back on the bed. It's 10:30 PM and she fell asleep on our bed 4 hours ago, exhausted from many late nights in a row and no nap today. Joelle has been sleeping soundly on our bed for 3 hours, although she just started stirring so I'm feeding her now in hopes of a long stretch tonight. And Leo's here, as always. Ev's outside fixing the self-timers on the sprinklers. Tiredness and craziness aside, I like what life is right now. It's exactly where I need to be.

2nd baby syndrome

You hear about it all the time - by the time you get to your 2nd kid, you take less photos, you don't document every coo and other supposed milestones, the video camera isn't always at arm's reach. And so, this has been true of Joelle's first 11 weeks. I'm blaming it on laziness and experience - since it's not that I'm less excited that she kicked the toys on her bouncy chair the other day. It's just that I savour the moment more to myself. I think with the first kid, you think everything they do is the most awe-inspiring, incredulous thing that no other baby has done before yours. Also, I'm generally more tired. Not only waking up to feed the baby, but also to deal with a toddler who is up once or twice a night, at different times than her sister. 

But still, I feel guilty that I'm somehow less "on it" than I was with Riley. I don't want to deprive my little Joelly of her own thick book of photos and hours of insanely boring video footage.

It may take a few nudges from curious family members who want to see more of their newest niece/granddaughter/cousin, but I'll get there.

The longest winter ever is over, and I've been feeling MUCH better over the past few weeks. I've gotten out for some walks, so I can start to chip away at the muffin top that explodes out of every pair of non-maternity pants.

I busted out the camera a few hours ago, while she was in her new place of sleep: The Pack 'n Play (in our bedroom).

And here she is. More to come. Soon. Hopefully.

Cabin fever and other ailments

Spring can not come fast enough. With this winter setting record snowfalls here and constant arctic temperatures, it's enough to make anyone a bit nuts. Add to that serious sleep deprivation, post partum hormonal shifts, and a toddler who is a walking virus/tantrum thrower, and you've got a recipe for misery.

I feel badly being all waah waah woe is me, when I know how blessed we are to have two beautiful daughters, but it's been a rough, long winter, and I have been struggling more than I would have predicted.

Riley has had a string of ailments - colds, fevers, and last week some sort of stomach bug that Ev and I got a piece of. I have become a bit Howard Hughes with Purell™ in every pocket/bag, in a feeble attempt to stave off any other sickness.

Daughter #1 is still coming into our bed every night and kicking the crap out of us. A habit that will have to be dealt with very eminently, and refuses to eat unless her eyes are transfixed on her Dora DVD. We do nothing because we can't. We are beaten down, one notch beyond exhausted, nerves frayed and eyes glazed. I keep thinking, let us just come up for air, and then we can get more disciplined, more fun, more appreciative, healthier.

I just want to go outside, jacketless, with my girls and go for a leisurely stroll. I want to smell the lilacs, and hear the little birdies chirping, and Riley singing songs to her little sister as the spring embeds its scent in our hair. Is that too much for a mom to ask for?

Girl oh girl!

Breathe.

Riley's sister Joelle Liv was born 3 weeks ago, on January 26. 4 days after my last entry I see.

I thought number 2 was supposed to be a piece of cake, says everyone. But I can't concur at this point. Labour and delivery were the easy part, oddly enough. It was what any woman would wish for: Water broke at 5 AM, called my Dedicated Doctor, who told me not to rush to the hospital. Ev and I both took showers, we called up Annabel from downstairs and told her it was showtime and she dealt with Riley. i stuck a towel between my legs, and we headed to the hospital. Got there some time before 7 and they admitted me since I was apparently 4 cms. My labour pains were mild and far apart. We got one of the nice rooms, and a nice nurse who hung out with us and got me hooked up with an epidural. My Dr. showed up at the hospital around 11:30, and told me I was about 9 cms. By 12 he got his scrubs on and told me to start pushing. I felt so lazy about the whole thing - I was liking lazing around with the ipod playing Pat Metheny. But I did what I had to do and out popped a 7 lb 2 oz baby at 12:42. They stitched me up (apparently half the tear that I got from Riley) and I was in a room with her an hour later. 24 hours later, we were out of the hospital.

Then things got hard. My hormones started doing their thing and I started crying every hour. Big sister was not happy with the new addition, and I felt like I had no business handling a newborn in my sleep-deprived condition. That was week 1. Then things got harder. On week 2, Baby Joelle got a mystery ailment, now known as a cold, that caused her nose to be so plugged up she couldn't breathe let alone nurse. I sucked snot out of her nose every 10 minutes as she sputtered and gagged and coughed. My weepiness turned into anxiety and my heart pounded every time I saw her gasp. My anxiety was compounded by the fact that I couldn't get in to see my Dedicated Doctor, who was out delivering other babies. Getting in to see a pediatrician in this country is about the same as getting to see the Prime Minister. A week into the mucousfest, I took her to SickKids Hospital. Poor kid had a triple whammy - a cold, reflux and thrush. I got prescriptions for the latter two ailments and spent the week mostly indoors trying to get her better.

3 weeks old and now on the mend. Her nose/throat are almost cleared up and that's the main thing a frazzled mom could want. She's a sweet little girl who barely complains and so far likes to sleep, except between midnight and 3 AM.

Riley has surprised us all with her love for her new sister, and except for occasional whiny outbursts, and joining us in bed every night between midnight and 3, she seems like she's a year older to me in the past few weeks. Like she's grown out of babyhood and into girlhood. Her vocabulary amazes me and she picks up on everything.

Now we've got to work on me. Maybe sleep would be the best cure for my frequent anxiety, but until I start pumping and/or supplementing, I don't see a quick fix. For now, I'll settle for a shower and a fig newton, then I have to feed girl #2. Two girls. Two. Daughters. Sisters. I feel like it was just yesterday that I was a single girl with a nice disposable income on a dating spree. Now I have to remember that I can't run out to the drugstore in my pyjama bottoms.

Bonus for all my interested readers: I'm not sure what compelled me to pick up my 10 lb camera moments after delivery, but here is what I saw. I'm just glad I couldn't see what they were seeing in shot 1.

The waiting game

Closing in on 38 weeks, and I can't imagine another few weeks like this. Since I had Riley at just around 38 weeks, naturally I feel like it could be a matter of days. But it's different this time. The anxiety of not know when/how things will go down is still the same, but now with a 2 year old to deal with, it's less about me and more about managing her.

I barely sleep. The nights are long, and uncomfortable, not being able to find a position that doesn't get the baby to move more. I'm glad for live matches of the Australian Open at 3 AM. I try and tell myself to enjoy this time as much as possible, since in a matter of days/weeks, I know what I'll have to deal with. And, I probably won't be pregnant again, so I want to remember these sensations, as strange as they are.

Finished my last shoot today. It was quick but not easy. Standing up is hard enough, let alone moving around subjects, crouching down and lugging my camera bag. Since I've been working like crazy for the past 6 months (the contract at Y&R just ended a few weeks ago), it feels weird to stop. I'm finding it hard to just be still, even though I'm so exhausted, so I have this nagging feeling that I have to fill my downtime with things I won't be able to do once I have the baby. Even on the weekends - Evan has offered to take Riley out for a few hours so I can rest, and I generally choose to do stuff with them. Soon it'll be 4 of us and more hectic, so why not enjoy our last few times together as the 3 of us, I tell myself. Despite the crippling leg cramps and back pain.

I haven't thought much about the baby until recently, maybe since the new year. It just sort of hit home that we should get the car seat installed, and set up the bassinet and dig the onesies and whatever sleepers out of the bin. I borrowed so much with Riley that I didn't have much. A few shopping trips solved that problem. We got back my loaned out breast pump, that I can't bear to look at right now.

In the middle of the long night, I look over at the bassinet near my side of the bed and imagine the baby in there very soon. What will she look like? Will she have lots of dark hair like her sister? Will she look completely different? Will she be mellow? Will she have reflux and colic and all those fun things? How much will her existence upset Riley initially? Will I be able to take the two of them out at the same time on my own? The questions are endless.

The cramps come and go frequently and I feel the little one squirming around as I write this. There can't be much room left in there to move. But hang in there little precious girl, just a little longer...your mommy needs a bit of chill time before we meet.

The show must go on

This is a relatively new thing, that she likes to sing a few tunes with daddy after her nightly bath. Poor kid has a cold, though it hasn't dampened her spirits. It was a proud moment for a tired mommy.

All she wants to do is dance

And all I want to do is sit. At nearly 2, Riley has discovered the joys of a funky beat and spinning till she drops. It's contagious and many evenings are devoted to "dance time" in our home. She shouts out commands: KICK! TURN! JUMP! And we follow along, like disciples. The only problem is one of the we, can barely stand up for 3 minutes without needing a break. I get winded just by standing from a seated position. She's not pleased with my lack of motivation on the dance floor and commands for me to move, kinda like Debbie Allen from 'Fame'.

I'm coming up on 30 weeks, and 30 extra pounds. It doesn't seem possible. I can't remember exactly how much I gained with Riley, but somewhere between 35 and 38 pounds sounds close. So does that mean I'm going to surpass that? I hope not. Because as it is, walking slowly has become a workout. Add carrying another 30 pounds in the form of a toddler, and I nearly collapse.

I much prefer "sticker time", another favorite pastime of hers. I just have to sit there and let her put butterfly and Dora stickers all over every exposed part of my skin, starting with the hands and arms and working up to the face. Later, when she's not paying attention, I can peel them off. The other activity I enjoy (by default) is lounging on the bed or couch and watching Treehouse, the children's TV network. Although I am starting to detest Elmo and it's hard for me to fake it around her. But I do. I use the time to daydream - Elmo is like wallpaper. High-pitched annoying wallpaper, but, she's happy, I'm happy.

Oh, and I'm still working pretty much full time, between the ad agency and occasional photo shoots. Me and my low-iron, massive body. Not fun. But I know that I might look back on this time as easy once the baby comes.

Here's a photo from a week and a half ago. I will make sure to have Evan take some more, when we have more than 30 seconds without a demanding kid and dog at my feet.

Just when you think you've got it figured out...

...you get tossed two steps back. Another parental rite of passage. This one goes under the "sleep disturbances" category. Our little sleeping bunny came to look forward to her nap and bedtime routine, over the last 10 months or so. We got to a point where she would go down readily, with anyone, do her little squirm to get settled in, and chat herself to sleep. It was so lovely and the novelty never wore off for me, after out shaky first year of sleep issues.

Last friday night, we went out to synagogue for Yom Kippur, and left her with Tess, our fill-in nanny of the past 2 weeks. When we came home, I noticed Riley's light on and door open. Tess said she refused to have the light off. Huh? That was the weirdest thing I'd heard. I checked on her and she was fast asleep, so I turned off the light. Sometime in the wee hours, she awoke screaming. Since we had Sami, Ev's friend staying with us, I was unwilling to let her cry herself back to sleep or into a frenzy. I went in and rubbed her back until she went down. It took almost an hour. She woke up again. Too exhausted to deal with her again, (and Ev was fasting) I grabbed her out of her crib and brought her to our bed. She lied on me until she fell asleep again. Same thing happened the next night and the night after that, and yesterday, the she adamently refused to nap in her crib. It was coincidently Annabel (new nanny's) first day so I took the day off to show her the ropes, and also because I foresaw that happening. She only wanted to be held in her rocking chair. And last night, after not eating dinner, and being overtired, she was the worst ever. We resorted to watching Elmo at 1 in the morning to get her out of her hyperventilating state.

Ev and I are running on fumes and I'm pulling my hair out with what we can do...this morning we took the railing off her crib so she now has a daybed. She seemed excited about it at first but I'm not convinced it's the solution. Maybe it's all the change, with her beloved Paula leaving, and Tess filling in and now Annabel. Maybe she is really starting to understand the baby in mommy's belly thing. Maybe something spooked her. Maybe some other developmental stage. But whatever it is, it's thrown us for a loop.

Speaking of baby in the belly...I'm still shocked about the news that we're having another girl. I made the sonographer check 3 times, since I was so convinced this one was a boy. Just when I thought I had it figured out. Although I'm now excited to use the word daughterS.

Here she is - in a calm moment between kicks and stretches...