All In

Ever since I started working in the office again, the days just seem to fly by. It's been a busy couple of weeks. I've had two bouts with mastitis, breast infections that knocked me out (I literally almost passed out at one point) for a couple of days each time. Matthew had two weddings, Saturday and Sunday, last weekend. I took the boys to Baton Rouge Sunday to see Pampaw and the rest of the Oivanki gang at Uncle Steve's for Father's Day. Monday I found out I was rejected for health insurance. Dean has had trouble sleeping all week -- one night he was crying so inconsolably we thought he had an ear infection and had to take him to the doctor today (he's fine). And then there's the fact that rain has been almost non-existent, except for one afternoon deluge for which we were very grateful -- it was getting so hot I was starting to lose the will to live (or at least to exercise).

We're really happy that Matthew now has two weekends off in a row, after ten straight weekends of weddings. But of course, that busy schedule means he now has lots of weddings to process, so there's really no time off for him. It's nice for our pocketbook, but the workload is really stressing both of us out. Right now he's fixing one of our windows because it leaks air, and we're trying to keep as much of the cool inside where it belongs. We took the boys to The Children's Museum today since it has been too hot to go outside, except to swim. Henry's doing really well in that department. In the past few weeks he's gone from refusing to put even his mouth in the water to actually swimming back and forth between the two of us. He's still not a strong swimmer by any means but we are getting closer, and he's so proud of himself. We just made a Michael Jackson compilation to listen to in the car so he can get to know the King of Pop as well as he knows AC Newman and REM. We also downloaded the Thriller film off YouTube and let him watch it (well, most of it, we skipped when MJ turns into a werewolf). This whole week of memorials has brought back my childhood Friday nights, when we would arrive to spend the weekend at our country house in Rosedale and I would put on the Thriller album in my bedroom and just dance like crazy. I couldn't have been more than 7 or 8, but I knew every song by heart.

I am trying not to overlook the wonder of Dean in the middle of the heat and the stress and the fatigue of keeping up with both kids. He has such a lovely personality. He smiles at least as much as Henry did at this age, which is to say almost all the time. He loves his bath, though yesterday he rolled himself over face first in the water, not a pleasant experience for him or his Daddy. His favorite sound to make is a high-pitched screech that woke me from a sound sleep at 7 a.m. the other morning. I ran into the nursery thinking one of my children was on fire, only to see Henry pointing at the crib where I found Dean with an enormous grin on his face. He and Henry have this little game they play where Henry laughs and laughs and then Dean starts talking to him and they're both going back and forth making these funny little half-laughs, half-murmurs. I've tried to catch it on video, but Dean gets very self-conscious on camera and clams up. He also loves peekaboo and sucking on things -- he'll even suck on my chin. He's a fat little man, all chubby cheeks and round little foot-balls. I love watching his feet when I feed him at nighttime. He gets so relaxed and his tiny toes curl up and down and his fat feet cross each other and his sweet blue eyes begin to close as he drifts off to sleep.

I always trusted that I would love both of my boys equally, but it is fascinating to me how the love I feel for them is different, just because they are different. There's no question it's equal, but my relationship with each of them is such a contrast. I am simply in love with Dean, captivated by his every breath, passionate about all his changes. I am deeply loving toward Henry, more compassionate than passionate, but no less enthralled with his development. Rearing them is the most challenging thing I have ever done, but also the most satisfying. Matthew and I set out to have kids knowing the sacrifices that would be involved but knowing that you get out of life what you put into it, and it was time to go all in. I am so glad we did.

Hello Happy Happiness

I know that the attainment of perfection is a hollow aspiration...but, um, have you met me? Well, anyway, laudable or not, I have to say that I think my life right now is as close to perfect as it has ever been, and I am truly happy.

Seems strange that at a time when I'm filled with such contentment I would cease posting to this blog. I have needed some time to adjust to working, to get into the rhythm of the new schedule, and maybe I've just been giving myself a chance to acclimate. Whatever the reason, I am going to try to be on here more often.

My current state of mind stems from a number of things, but I think what has catapulted it into "happiness" (a term I do not use casually), is that I've crossed the last hurdle post-baby and am still standing. Going back to the office was a big step for me. I was pretty sure it would be a smooth transition, but if anything was going to be a hiccup, I figured that would be it. But it has gone wonderfully -- Dean took to the bottle pretty well, pumping is fine, Matthew is enjoying his time with the little guy, and I've really enjoyed being back in the professional atmosphere of the office. I like putting on my makeup and heels in the morning. I like listening to NPR in the quiet of my car. I like focusing my mind on new projects, catching up on the latest industry news, working with my friends and feeling competent again (reasonably) at something other than a one-handed diaper change. And just when I get tired of working and long for a leisurely day with my boys, it's Friday and I'm home all day.

I feel like I have been working to get to this point for SO LONG. Really, it goes back to when I first went to work full-time after having Henry and passing the bar (I had worked part-time up until taking the exam). It was a crushing blow to realize that my plan of working full-time while Matthew was the stay-at-home parent was akin to sticking a knife in my heart every morning. From that point on, we worked toward a goal of both of us working part-time. I eventually negotiated a 40-hour a week schedule (part-time in the legal world), but it was another year before Matthew's business gave us enough security to think about my cutting back further. And by then Henry was older and in school and I was feeling more comfortable with my schedule, so we decided to wait until after we had another child. Two years of trying and almost adopting and trying again later, we finally had that wonderful second child and I had worked four years in a job where my bosses could trust that I could still be a meaningful contributor to the firm even at only 24 hours a week. So here we are -- I work about six hours a day Monday through Thursday and take over primary child-care duties Friday and Saturday. I'm not sure how much closer to the much-mythologized work-life balance you can get.

But it's more than just my wonderful new work schedule. It's Dean and how delightful and manageable he is. Let me just say again, so there is no ambiguity: I have always wanted three children and the fact that my body/psyche/whatever-it-is-that-f*cks-me-up-when-I-am-pregnant makes it unwise for me to be pregnant again has caused me a great deal of sorrow. But it is what it is and I have accepted the fact that I will have two wonderful healthy boys in my life and that's it. So I have moved on to the silver lining phase, which is I WILL NEVER HAVE TO GO TWO AND HALF MONTHS WITHOUT SLEEPING EVER AGAIN. While there were parts of the newborn phase I loved with both my boys and my heart always gets soft and weepy when I think of their tiny little hands and coal-black newborn eyes and near weightlessness in my arms, let's not overly romanticize it: at least for me, the first two and half months of my sons' lives were spent with sleeplessness, constant crying from acid reflux, and, in the case of Dean, migraines and post-partum depression. Now that he is a well-settled, sweet-tempered almost-five month old who usually sleeps through the night, it finally dawned on me that the worst is over. I have no illusions about the other challenges of parenthood, but barring chronic illness or other tragedy in any of our lives, I think I can handle all of it better than I can handle almost three months without sleeping more than three hours straight. Whew.

So here I am/we are: Henry is reading and is such a proud older brother, he's just blossoming in so many ways (today when I couldn't look at something he was doing he told me with a shrug, "Okay, but I don't know what you're missing."); Dean is rolling over and babbling and sucking on his hands like they're covered in illicit drugs (I think he might be getting a tooth); Matthew is way too busy but still seems to thrive on the challenge; and I simply can't think of much to complain about...except the weather, I can always complain about summer in South Louisiana. Damn it's hot.