I return to work after over 3 months on maternity leave. I can't believe it's been 3 months already. I'm not ready to leave my baby. He's not ready to be left. The husband isn't ready to take on 2 kids full time.
Everything will be fine, I know. It's just the build up to the inevitable that leaves me feeling such dread.
You know what is totally wacky? In this country, I am so damn privileged to be able to take a whole 3 months off. Thank you, FMLA (Family Medical Leave Act). Plus I have worked for my organization long enough to have built up a stock pile of paid leave so that all three months were paid. I'll be going back with no paid leave remaining, so it will be a month before I can take even one paid sick day, but I'm darn fortunate to have what I have.
So I have no excuse to whine about how I really wish I were living in Canada right now. Or pretty much anywhere else in the developed world. :-f
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Checking In
Where have I been for the past week?
1. Recovering from my 2nd case of mastitis (I could spend an entire post whining about all the troubles I'm having with breastfeeding this time around)
2. Having family in town visiting
Above mentioned family is still in town so I probably won't be able to post again this week.
Hope everyone is having a fabulous holiday season!
1. Recovering from my 2nd case of mastitis (I could spend an entire post whining about all the troubles I'm having with breastfeeding this time around)
2. Having family in town visiting
Above mentioned family is still in town so I probably won't be able to post again this week.
Hope everyone is having a fabulous holiday season!
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
An interfaith household experience
There's a Christmas tree in my house. This is actually the second year we've had it. The husband bought it the week after Christmas on sale two years ago.
It's weird.
Not the tree itself. The tree is lovely, even being fake. It's just weird that I have a Christmas tree in my house at all.
Oh, pardon me, it's actually a winter solstice tree. Decorating pine trees at this time of year is, after all, a Pagan tradition. Nonetheless, it is a very stark symbol of... (dun dun dun) ... assimilation. As in, I have assimilated into the dominant (Christmas celebrating) culture. I have sold out, so to speak.
But, not completely, my family will be happy to know. Today I went to SchmoopyBoy's school where I lit my menorah, and talked to the children about how we celebrate Hanukkah at our house. I told them that we celebrate both Christmas and Hanukkah in our home, because SchmoopyBoy's daddy grew up celebrating Christmas and I grew up celebrating Hanukkah. SchmoopyBoy helped by handing me the candles and warning the other children to stay away from the fire because fire might kill them. I sang the prayers for the children and, although I didn't translate them into English, I told them what each was about (for example, "This one is about being thankful that we get to light these beautiful candles", etc).
We don't talk about being Jewish at my house very much. In fact, we tend to not talk about religion, period. Nonetheless, SchmoopyBoy is now at an age where he will remember what we do and what we don't do. He will start to feel ownership, so to speak, of the traditions we do in our home. Despite our household being by and large non-religous, I do want him to feel ownership of the practices I grew up with. I want him to understand that this is his heritage, and there is value to it.
So, I suppose the time will soon come when start having talks about what people believe and that different people believe different things. For now, I am content to say that some people celebrate only Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, or the Winter Solstice; and that we celebrate more than one holiday.
It's weird.
Not the tree itself. The tree is lovely, even being fake. It's just weird that I have a Christmas tree in my house at all.
Oh, pardon me, it's actually a winter solstice tree. Decorating pine trees at this time of year is, after all, a Pagan tradition. Nonetheless, it is a very stark symbol of... (dun dun dun) ... assimilation. As in, I have assimilated into the dominant (Christmas celebrating) culture. I have sold out, so to speak.
But, not completely, my family will be happy to know. Today I went to SchmoopyBoy's school where I lit my menorah, and talked to the children about how we celebrate Hanukkah at our house. I told them that we celebrate both Christmas and Hanukkah in our home, because SchmoopyBoy's daddy grew up celebrating Christmas and I grew up celebrating Hanukkah. SchmoopyBoy helped by handing me the candles and warning the other children to stay away from the fire because fire might kill them. I sang the prayers for the children and, although I didn't translate them into English, I told them what each was about (for example, "This one is about being thankful that we get to light these beautiful candles", etc).
We don't talk about being Jewish at my house very much. In fact, we tend to not talk about religion, period. Nonetheless, SchmoopyBoy is now at an age where he will remember what we do and what we don't do. He will start to feel ownership, so to speak, of the traditions we do in our home. Despite our household being by and large non-religous, I do want him to feel ownership of the practices I grew up with. I want him to understand that this is his heritage, and there is value to it.
So, I suppose the time will soon come when start having talks about what people believe and that different people believe different things. For now, I am content to say that some people celebrate only Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, or the Winter Solstice; and that we celebrate more than one holiday.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Wordless Wednesday: Brothers
First Meeting
There's a lot of this going on at my house:
Very sweet, but you can see how everyone gets sick around here. The hands cannot stay off.
There's a lot of this going on at my house:
Very sweet, but you can see how everyone gets sick around here. The hands cannot stay off.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
His Soul Eyes
He looks at me. No, he looks into me. Clear blue eyes, the windows to the soul.
His soul reaches through his eyes, past my own eyes, and wraps around my own soul tentacle-like, drawing it back into his tiny body.
The expression is one of familiarity and devotion. His soul seems to says to mine, Ah, it's you! I remember you. I remember loving you. And I love you still, for you are mine.
Yes. I am yours. And you are mine. We belong to one another. Two souls recognizing each other from across an ancient lifetime.
Trust, Love, Devotion, Remembrance in his older, other-worldly eyes.
I do not know what unfinished business we have to complete. I know only this:
I must not let him down.
His soul reaches through his eyes, past my own eyes, and wraps around my own soul tentacle-like, drawing it back into his tiny body.
The expression is one of familiarity and devotion. His soul seems to says to mine, Ah, it's you! I remember you. I remember loving you. And I love you still, for you are mine.
Yes. I am yours. And you are mine. We belong to one another. Two souls recognizing each other from across an ancient lifetime.
Trust, Love, Devotion, Remembrance in his older, other-worldly eyes.
I do not know what unfinished business we have to complete. I know only this:
I must not let him down.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)