The project is a go. You are now looking at the Executive Director of the future local Parent’s Education and Resource Center. Or, rather, you are reading her blog. And by “Executive Director” I mean, “The one who has to fill out IRS form 1023 in order to someday qualify for grants and get paid. Maybe.”
The program will be an extension of the local mother’s group we started this spring, since we realized almost immediately that there is a need in our community for a dedicated space for parents to come for support, education and community. We have outgrown the small yoga studio that has been letting us squat for months, and have been approached about buying a large local house if we can get the grant money together. It will all be a lot of work - an astounding amount of work actually - but we already have a board of directors, a dedicated group of people who are as excited about the project, and leads on a couple big funders.
The options for the center are really astounding. As well as all the expected birth classes, playgroups, etc, we will also have room to lease out space to both an excellent private daycare (where the girls could be!) and a retail store (which will offer all the things you can’t get in our area - slings, cloth diapers, etc). The basement will be easily converted into a meeting room, there will be a community garden on site, and an open pantry/closet. And those are just the things I already have volunteers for.
We’re (obviously) still in the planning stage, the bottom can still fall out of it at any time, and lord knows no one goes into nonprofit work to get rich, but in a lot of ways, this is the opportunity I have been looking for. I am passionate about this, and this is the kind of work I am suited for. There is a need in our community, so if not now, when? And if not us, who?
Also: I was linked this today and it felt like a bit of confirmation from the universe. Yes, yes, and yes.
Tom was complaining the other day that he doesn’t have any new photos for his wallet, and I scoffed. ‘Cause I don’t take pictures very often, right? Log thee onto Wallgreens.com and order thy self some photos, sir. It did give me an excuse to put the girls in matching outfits again and make them play in the yard for a bit this morning, so I guess I can forgive him.
I wish I had the time and energy to edit these nicely, but the truth is I don’t really care. I see their faces, and the shabby background just disappears.
More here.
I have an opportunity on the table that I am scared to even talk about for fear of jinxing it, but man. Mannnnn am I excited if it comes through. I would be able to be a professional, who could be with my kids all day, working in a field I am passionate about, and making money doing it. It’s something that will be a lot of work, but work I am itching to start. It’s all so hypothetical right now that I am forcing myself not to get too attached to the idea, but I’ll know more soon. If I decide to follow this path (knowing that it may not come to fruition for quite a while) I will have to let my boss at the University know soon, so that she can find someone for the position that I am still not funded for. We are having a ‘can we do this?’ meeting on Tuesday, but until then I am going to gnaw on my cuticles. Nom nom.
So, in the spirit of things I haven’t written about because I don’t want to jinx them, I think I can finally chance writing that Ella is potty trained. 99.8% of the time she is in big girl panties, and while we do put her in a diaper when she goes to sleep most nights, she wakes up, uses the bathroom, and leaves it off. She hasn’t had as accident in… ages. Long enough that I can’t think of the last time. About 3 months ago Pam (my mother in law) brought Ella some Dora undies, and told her that when she could keep them dry, she could stay the night at grandma’s. That was all the incentive Ella needed, and tonight she is taking her grandma up on the deal. She is a stubborn, willful little mule when she wants to be, and I am glad I trusted her to do it in her own time. And thank God that wasn’t when she was 5.
Dear Ella,
There are days that I am so sad that you are growing up. I miss when you would curl up in my arms and fall asleep every night; I miss your little bald head; I miss all the funny words you made up before you spoke English; I miss nursing you. I begrudgingly allow you to grow up, because I know I can’t stop you, but most days I am looking backward.
Ella, 8 months old
But today, at music class*, when you stood up and sang in a loud, clear voice, all the words to “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, all by yourself, I couldn’t help but think “We are going to have so much fun together”. You were so proud of yourself when everyone clapped, and oh my girl, I was so so proud of you.
I can’t wait for tomorrow.
Love, Mama.
*If you are in my area (and you probably know if you are) and are looking for an excellent teacher/program, drop me a line. Classes start again in late Sept.
I found Tom a pair of boobs today.
They are the first generation of the Adiri bottles, so while they are not pretty colors, they are the same basic idea. They were new, sealed in their boxes, and .50 cents each at a garage sale. I bought them because I had an extra dollar, not really betting that Alice would take them. Why would she? We’ve bought 6 different kinds of bottles and sippy cups, and she has not been interested in any of them. She knows what she likes, which is something I like in a girl, but the bad news is that I’m taking her best friends to work with me (whenever that happens, still no word on that).
So, when we got home, I washed one out, handed it to her, and expected it to be ignored. Instead, she laid back, smiled, and made her “Nom nom nom” noise.
So yay for knowing she won’t starve while I am gone. Now to find an old bra, and cut out the cups. Manary Gland anyone? *snicker*
If you’ve given birth in the last three years, please consider taking the survey. The survey is exceptionally detailed, so it took me a while, but you can save and return to it as you have time. I am impressed with the level of though that went into many questions, and that soon the information will be available nation wide to mothers and families who are trying to make educated choices about their maternity care. From their website:
“We believe that women of childbearing age must have access to information that will help them choose maternity care providers and institutions that are most compatible with their own philosophies and needs. We hope that the Transparency in Maternity Care Project will provide information that will help women make fully informed maternity care decisions.”
Me too.
Edited to add: This link to an amazing resource from the March of Dimes about the health of infants and mothers across the country. You can choose your state on the top left. So many of these stats are eye opening, and makes it all the more clear that being #29 safest place in the world (behind Cuba!) for mothers and babies is not good enough. Our children deserve better, and if mothers will not stand up for our health and that of our children, who will?
I slept on the floor of Ella’s room last night, aware of every passing car, of all the various ticks and thumps that echo in a sleeping house. I was both embarrassed to be so frightened of shadows, and sure that my presence was the only thing keeping her here, protected.
It’s just not enough to know that “most of us make it to adulthood”, that “news wouldn’t be news if it was everyday.” It’s not enough to squash the fear that runs up and down my spine when I think that some of us don’t make it. Some of us are the statistics, some of us are missing, some of us never grow into our winter clothes.
I just want a guarantee that my girls will make it. I want it in writing.
The last few days have been a roller coaster of anxiety, giddiness and stomach lurching fear. I oscillate hourly between calm confidence that my going back to work IS the best thing for our family, and abject horror that I am willingly missing out on my tiny daughters’ lives.
The transition is going to be harder on me then I realized. My entire self image changed three and a half years ago, when Ella was kicking my liver. At the time, the idea of being someone’s mom was foreign, and I could not wait to get back to school, back to work, back to making my mark on the world. Little did I know, as soon as Ella was born it became hard to see myself as anything other than her mom. Suddenly, the only mark I wanted to make on the world was with this amazing little girl. I have worked off and on in the last few years, but rarely without Ella milling around under my feet, and never with a greater purpose then to be able to ‘get through this so we can go home’.
And we have been lucky that we could afford for me to stay home, even as our family grew. Being home with both girls has been a challenge, and one that I can’t lie and say I cherished every minute of. I didn’t, and now that just seems silly. But the hard times were so few and far between when I consider how much laughter there has been. We were lucky to have these last 8 months together, but I panic at the idea that it may not have been enough. That being gone nearly all of their waking lives will push me into the periphery, and that I will regret this decison. That suddenly they won’t know who I am - that maybe I won’t know who I am either.
Of course I’ve been talking to Tom about this all, and of course, being the supportive husband I rarely deserve, he has told me that I can stay home. That he’ll find (yet another) job to make ends meet. That (if I take the job) he’ll drive the girls 60 miles round trip every day to come play at the park on my lunch hour. He set up a webcam so I can watch them play. He’s already making plans for craft time and play group. He wants to stay home with our daughters, and as hard as it will be for me at first, I’m going to let him. Because while he isn’t me, he is their dad, and he deserves to see their childhood firsthand also.
But right on cue, Alice has started saying “Mama” so pitifully when she needs to be comforted. Oh my girl.
Tom came with us to the Mama’s group here in town yesterday, without even my having to beg him. Sure, he rolled his eyes a bit and asked “Do you really want me to come?” when I casually asked if he would be attending as the stay-at-home-parent in the family, but when I told him “Yessssss, pleasssse” he put on his shoes and got a diaper bag together. I think he will be okay.
The group was actually great yesterday, since two other stay-at-home dads were there, and we were able to discuss just what that transition is like. While I know Tom is going to be great with the girls, I also know that he has no idea what he is in for. When we told his parents the plan yesterday, Tom half-jokingly said “Yup, I’ll be the HouseHusband, and I can show Ivory how easy it really is” which made us all look at him with pity, because oh. Oh dear. Having other dads say things like “It’s the hardest job I’ve ever had” made an impact on him, and I hope he took their advice to heart. I also hope he doesn’t take a year and a half to learn what I did - you can’t do it alone. If the only adult contact you have in a day is your partner when they come home tired from work, you will go slowly insane. I know Tom isn’t going to go to the Mama’s meeting every week and talk about his feeeeelings, but we know a handful of hands on dads who will be a great support for Tom, if he will make the effort to get to know them better. Or, maybe he can start a blog. (*Snicker snicker*)
I do worry though. I have a hard time delegating tasks out in general, because I want things done my way. I’ve spent 3 years honing my nurturing skills, and many of my parenting decisions (which Tom has graciously followed since I have been the in-house expert) have been made only after months of reading, thinking, talking and journaling. I know Tom - he’s just not an introspective guy, and I worry that this will mean a less thoughtful parenting style. And what if it does? What if we have more cookies then fruit in the house; what if we start using disposable diapers over the cloth; what if the TV is on for hours on end? Will it be my place to lead my family in that way, make those kinds of decisions? Will I be stepping on his toes, telling him how to do his job?
Don’t get me wrong - Tom is an amazing dad, and I know the girls are going to be safe, happy and loved. But he’s not me, and I’m going to have to learn to accept that.
I’m going back to work.
I know! That is about how I feel too, Alice. Surprised, anxious, off kilter, but mostly excited. I put the feelers out to a former boss over a month ago to keep me in mind for part time evening work, and she called me today with a full time offer that it would be stupid to turn down. I will be making more a month then Tom does right now, so, instead of juggling our schedules, hiring childcare, and worrying that our kids are suffering, he’s going to quit his job and be the stay at home parent, working occasional evenings at his catering job. We can roll our current benefits over to this job, I will have paid vacation days, and since it is at the university, in six months I will be eligible for the tuition waver, and can work on my Masters degree for $5 a credit. Ive done the job before, it’s with the group that put me through school (so I know the program), my boss is wonderful….
But I won’t be home with my girls.
This is the right thing to do - for our family, for our finances, for my education and career, for so many reasons.
But I won’t be home with my girls.
And that is already breaking my heart.
