Change is a good thing

http://awomanmyage.wordpress.com/


I have no idea of how to navigate around wordpress yet, but I'm working on it.

Ssh, it's a secret

Speaking of trust and truth, I'd like to blog about certain things, but given that this is an open blog, I may have to change that. So I'm either going to switch to wordpress so I can password protect certain posts or going private by invitation only. Mmmm. Decisions. Any suggestions?

Trust and truth

*Edited*
There's a certain degree of loss of privacy when you've been down the infertile path. You've had so many people in your hooha, the countless visits to blood labs, so many people who have inquired about your childless state, the coming out of the closet so to speak and the lectures you've delivered. And then there's my blog. My guts in print. Forever. Oh, and when you announce that you're adopting, much to the relief of your friends and acquaintances, then you've got to deal with the constant, "So, any news on the adoption thing?" I won't even talk about the lovely homestudy process. I'm not real big on lying to people, I'm pretty open. My husband hates this, but I spent all of my childhood repressing events and emotions because I was taught to keep my "business" to myself. This has resulted in big, fat blanks in my childhood memories and depression.

I am only fairly private with people in show business. They will spill your beans faster than you can blink. This is obvious cause all you have to do is read the rags at the supermarket checkout stands. If a celebrity misbehaves for whatever reason, it's news. Generally speaking, people in the industry are not kind to one another and if you have a bad day, everybody will find out about it. The less important you are, the more inexcusable it is. Even an background extra will be dismissed for looking at the star the wrong way. It's stupid. But if you get cancer, then you're a saint. There are a lot of instant "friendships" and when you spend 12 hours a day with someone, you talk a lot, but the minute the gig is over, it's like you don't exist anymore. Just look at all the hookups in Hollywood that occur when people work together and what happens when the project stops. I no longer think people I work with are my friends.

This is why genuine connections with people are so very important to me. I'm truthful with people, and I expect the same. Bringing truth to the moment is my creative motto.

I don't grill people when I talk to them, they can share with me whatever they choose, I don't need to know details, frankly most of the time, I don't want to know. Trusting that we'll have a child to raise one day, now that's an idea that we have to get used to.

The meeting that changed my life

Well, I guess I could tell you all about my weekend with my old friends. The day they arrived I pulled a back muscle lifting the dog off the bed cause I thought she was going to throw up. Now I felt old. Swell, but one of those heat wraps fixed that. We had an amazing time, but with all the sightseeing, drinking, eating and walking, I had absolutely zero personal time, which in hindsight was fortunate. I needed the distraction. It was great seeing my old friend from university and besides her and her husband running a successful business, they haven't changed a bit. Still warm, genuine and funny. Got to see lots of pictures of their grown girls. Wow, we're the same age, but they married young and had kids right away. It seems like a lifetime ago I was at her wedding with my doofus boyfriend stepping in to help her cause her maid of honour sucked. She made fun of me cause I didn't remember some stuff, but honestly, I've lead a fairly active life and met thousands of people. I don't remember stuff unless it was particularly happy or sad or a grudge. Okay, and I drank a lot, so what. She even remembered my birthday, holy cow. I like never remember people's birthdays, it's a chronic fault of mine.

I love entertaining out of towners, but in the last few weeks we have spent a small fortune without realizing we had lawyers in our immediate future. I did tell them where we were going but not why. By the time I had dropped them off, I realized I felt like absolute shit. As in coming down with something. My whole body felt sandbagged. I went home and consumed vitamin C in large quantities and anti viral elixirs and topped it off with Tylenol cold capsules for good measure. Nyquil was my nightcap drink. Lo and behold, I was feeling pretty good when I got up at dawn.

"Edited"

I'm a little shell-shocked. Or calm, I can't decide which. It's a little like a really great first date and now you hope the rest of the long distance courtship goes well.

quick update

Okay, all my work is finished, I'm a little worn from an entire day typing (not to mention hairy eyeballs) but the work is much appreciated. Now I have a few moments to update you. I did manage to have a fairly pleasant Canada Day. We took mum out to enjoy some music, which was conveniently put on my the city/jazz festival just up the street. She enjoyed herself and we even danced a bit. I went to a late hot yoga session and then started transcribing and finished that DVD at 1 am. The first one is always the worst. I received an email the next morning that my sister found out she DID NOT have a mini stroke according to her neurologist. He didn't say nuch else. Thank you all for your kind prayers sent her way. She is still recuperating. I'll get there when I can. First things first. I just wish I had more time to chant. Of course, she did not get a definitive answer as to what did happen. Could be MS, could be all sorts of things. More tests need to be done. Feeling deep gratitude right now that I never have to worry about paying a monstrous bill when I do use health services. The last time I had to go to emerg (where I received great care), I was discharged from a private room without having to pass a cashier first. Hopefully that will be the last time I ever see the inside of an emergency room.

Next up, visitors from out of town tomorrow. Got to repair my hair do, I'm a mess and then go pick them up from airport. I'll tidy up some more tomorrow.

I don't have enough on my mind?

And just when I thought things were going to be dull.... my younger sister called me last week to tell me she had returned from the emergency room. She may have had a stroke. Maybe. Probably. She had all the signs but apparently they did a CAT scan (negative) but not an MRI. She went to see a neurologist who told her she probably had a mini stroke (trans ischemic attack) but couldn't be sure until he saw an MRI. Then she told me she wasn't sure her health insurance would cover it (they did, but she had to pay 20% of it) and now she won't have the results til tomorrow. She says it's still hard for her to find the right words. I'm not freaking out. I sent her some money and told her to gather her friends and neighbours for support as apparently her husband wasn't handling things too well. If something horrible happened, I couldn't get there fast enough to make a difference. My first thought was that I should be on a plane to stay there until we find out the results. However, it came exactly at the time when I should be on a plane to meet a birthmother.

I get an email from a client last night and have less than 2 days to transcribe several hours of notes before my friends arrive from out east. By which time I will have found out what's up with my sister. And then they leave, and then I'm leaving. Now I'm thinking I should be with my sister. The problem? If I go this will cause a great deal of stress on DH who would be footing the whole bill. It's a good thing I'm making money this week. He is not fond of my sister. Well, that's an understatement. Not to worry, he'll do the right thing, he's a good man, but if I can limit my stay with her for a week.... There's the dog, my mother left behind for him to deal with, this whole birthmother meeting..... Some how I feel like I should fix everything for everybody. Just waive my magic wand and make everyone happy and healthy.

Got to get to work now.... might be able to post later this weekend.

Happy Canada Day!

Maybe baby

Okay, I thought I'd have more to tell you by now, but I don't, so... looks like we're going to be meeting a birthmother next week in LA. It was supposed to happen this week but with one thing or another, next week works out better for everyone. I'd prefer to get this over with before the holiday weekend, but I've waited this long, what's another week?

Remember that daimoku session I had with my friend a couple weeks ago? The reason was that we had received a profile that DH felt strongly about so I thought maybe I should just get clear on a few things. So now this. We've been trying to arrange for dogcare and air flights, pulling funds together, and of course, I have friends flying in just for the weekend. Cause I didn't think I'd have anything else to do. !!!!!

I'd prefer to have someone come and stay with Juno but everyone (but me) has work or kids or something to do. She's still a puppy (she lost her first tooth yesterday) so she still needs supervision but my friend who is a dog walker/actress recommended her employer to board her. I don't really want to board her but it's simpler I guess. Of course, now I have to get through a weekend with friends who have no idea of what we've been going through for years (we recently got back in touch with each other). That should be interesting.

Am I excited? Sort of. I feel calm though. Strangely calm. My friend who is away for a holiday called me and said the sweetest thing to me. She said, just remember, you're enough just as you are. I almost cried. It was exactly what I needed to hear. So I'm staying calm, making arrangements, trying not to get ahead of myself. Wondering if I should bring gifts - what kind of gifts - or would that look too desperate? It's like a blind date, I have to fix my hair, get a bikini wax, what should I wear? I guess I could skip the bikini wax part.

Yoga in a sauna

Couple nights ago, I went to Bikram's Yoga, which is very conveniently located next door. I bought a pass for unlimited hot yoga for a week. Why now, I don't know. Maybe cause they won't make me run. Yoga in a sauna. I had to snap my mind back from judging myself harshly. I took off my top to reveal my Nike bra top cause it was that hot in there. Picture my mind like a yoyo going from oh, you're not doing too badly to omg, look at my gut hanging over my pants. I couldn't do most of the poses very well. I think of the 26 poses, I did about 80% of them. My shoulders hurt, I can't hold them out away from me that long without my rotator cuffs aching; my balance was off, I kept falling over; I can't twist one leg around the other cause they're too big. Arguably the biggest in the class. At least, I could feel good about my lovely pedicure. I'm the only black woman there. I say that because all that sweating is not good for a sister's relaxer. But I snap my mind back from comparing myself to that 4% body fat girl over there and just concentrate on getting through the poses. I do well I think. I didn't pass out and I didn't give up.



The little Asian woman with the mic barks out accented orders rapid fire like a machine gun. I'm so used to Asian accents that I can actually understand her 60% of the time. She calls out my name and says PALM OUT like 5 times before I actually figure it out and put my palm out. I'm wearing my watch and yes, I did sneak a couple of looks at the time. When was the last time you spent an hour and a half in a sauna? I breathe deeply and loudly to make my lungs are still working and give thanks to the pasta dinner I had that is giving me the energy to continue. You're not supposed to eat 2 - 3 hrs before class or to eat lightly. I hoped I wouldn't throw up.

I made it through and felt very relaxed when I got home. The need to seriously chill out increases as I get older, and I'd like to replace the wine and candy/cake/ food approach. I have to say, it's a little like chanting for the body. It's a discipline, you have to quell the mind from judging your faults but it's like this little timeout out just for you. I think it's the sweating, it tricks you into thinking you're working out like a dog.

I'm not so sure about the locked legs and the pain part of it, but I plan on taking it easy. My shoulders hurt quite a bit, rotator cuff issues - you know from WORKING OUT! The second time I went it was easier. I got into a couple of poses I couldn't do before. Barely, but I got there. Not that I wanted to see my fatty thighs from that angle, but whatever. Yay for me! A fellow Buddhist from up the street took the class so chatting with her after was nice. She confirmed I had placed myself (unwittingly) under a heat vent which explains why I had a hard time picking up my sweaty ankles with my sweaty hands. No wonder that spot was always empty.

I have another post for you, but - it's a doozy. And I just can NOT keep it to myself.

A little R&R

Who said I was 46? Slap that right out of your mouth?! Ah, another year older. Another year wiser? Mmm, well, I don't know about that, but I can hope, right? We enjoyed a lovely 2 day visit to Whistler with Juno. As much as we enjoy hanging out with my dog, having a little puppy can be a challenge. We tried to tie her up about 10 feet away but she was having a bit of a fit and we couldn't really relax. Luckily, there was a lovely doggy daycare so we could hang out on a patio with delicious cocktails and have lunch. There are a lot of dogs visiting Whistler and all the major hotels take them. We were even offered a doggie bed for the princess but we had brought her kennel. Hubby whisked her off for a big walk while I enjoyed a wonderful manicure/pedicure complete with paraffin treatment. It was quite lovely and I even got to have tea in the spa lounge and read the latest O magazine while waiting for my nails to dry. And of course, we were having a -ahem - a romantic interlude - when she woke up from a nap and decided to come see what was going on. Much laughter ensued. Thank goodness for rawhide sticks.



We also got out and browsed a shopped a little. Got a new hat! The weather was a bit cool, but the rain held off for most of the weekend. So all in all, it was very relaxing and I was spoiled rotten. Coffee and breakfast in bed and I even had a beavertail! It's basically a flat piece of dough with cinnamon and sugar. Yum!

Hubby was a little overprotective of her - I wanted to have dinner out our last night there and he was so concerned that we didn't leave her alone in the room. I know you're not supposed to leave a dog unattended, but we had cancelled housekeeping and she was in her kennel so I didn't figure there'd be any harm. He was so worried that she might start barking because "she wouldn't know where she was". So we had to test it and put her in kennel and waited outside the door. She whimpered a bit but settled down. So we ended up enjoying a lovely dinner downstairs (yes, he went back to check on her) in the hotel. Good news is that you can put a dog in a kennel but what the hell are we going to do with a child? NEVER GO OUT AGAIN, I SUPPOSE. I gotta start babysitting cause I am not going down like this. I'm going to have to start building a network in hopes that friends will return the favour when I need it.

By the way, here's proof that the shelter need never worry about how much we care for her. Guera: this ones's for you.

Please note that there were no children at all at the playground or even in the vicinity and little miss had done her business miles away from here. This is how badly DH needs a kid. Yes, she went down the slide. Crazy dog people.

Daimoku thinking

I got up really early yesterday, found hubby on the living room couch cause Juno moved around a lot at night in her kennel and kept waking him up. I hear her, but her thumping doesn't bother me. Only sounds of distress (like getting ready to throw up)wake me up. I pity him when we get our baby cause he can't function without a good sleep. I made him coffee to go, took her out to do her business, made banana bread, and tidied up a bit. Oh, yeah, I was all ready until I realized that I can't think for crap in the mornings and forgot to put baking soda in the banana bread. Well, it smelled terrific anyway when I dumped it in the garbage. So I decided to make something else, but I didn't have much on hand. Canned peaches or fresh peaches? Well, I'd have to blanch and peel the fresh ones, so canned peaches it was and I made a very delicious peach loaf. I didn't have any milk, but I did have some Almond Breeze, which by the way, worked brilliantly. I make it up as I go along, folks. This is a little dangerous when baking. My girlfriend came over early and we settled in to chant. For 3 hours. Another Buddhist joined us later.

It was hard for the first bit. My mind wandered. It was hard to concentrate. Hard to hit the right rhythm, fall into the groove, fuse with the Gohonzon. My joints get stiff. Twitch, stretch, get thirsty. What was I chanting for? Scared to put it out there. I can chant easily for others, but for myself? For something very specific? Yep, there's something going on. My girlfriend says it time to chant for a breakthrough. Mmmm, haunted by failed answers to my prayers. If one considers not getting what one wants a failure. I've heard stories of others wanting so badly to get into a particular school or get a particular job, not achieving it but then go on to find something even better than they could have ever dreamed. Silver linings. Where's my silver lining? I've been waiting for years, so it must be pretty special, huh? Platinum perhaps?

I think maybe just maybe if it's a blessing I didn't get pregnant. As you all know, that's just step one of the whole equation. For many people, it's 1 + 1 = 2, but for others, it's just the beginning. Then you have to stay pregnant and then you have to bring a live, healthy human being into the world. Not so easy, right? Plenty of blogs out there to attest to that. So with the so called disadvantage of being a woman of a certain age attempting to enter the reproductive arena, there were many obstacles in the way and associated risks and dangers. Lots of worst case scenarios could have happened to me, so PERHAPS, getting knocked up would have brought me a far more onerous burden other than being infertile. Who knows? I can't speak for my sister's experience of having a child, but for 5 long years, she's been taking him to the doctor's office for one thing or another, fighting insurance companies, school boards, etc. and that does not sound like the joys of motherhood I keep hearing about. All I ever had was the perfect fantasy life that existed in my imagination where like in the soap operas, the kid is cute and beautiful and wonderfully gifted and then goes away when they're 2 and comes back a mischievous teen 6 months later.

I don't think I want much. I could be fooling myself. Oh, yeah, new shoes and a trip to Europe is cool, but my heart's true desire? Can't be bought with airmiles. I think DH thinks those types of things are happiness. You know, flat screen TVs and new cars and expensive suits and travelling all around. I understand that a bit. Many of my life's sweet moments have come when I'm looking at the sunset from a different latitude and longitude. Did you realize the earth smells different when the sun hits it in different parts of the world? I'm also pretty damn sure being a single digit size can bring me happiness. Or a Tim Horton's breakfast sandwich and a bag of candy. Either one. Oh, yeah, the joy of a new vegan (i.e. plastic) Mat + Nat handbag! Good thing mum is demented cause guess what she's buying me for my birthday?

I wanted to make a living at something I loved doing and I wanted to make someone with someone I love to love. Crushed on both counts. Life's unfair, could have been worse, yada yada. Moving on. Making room for other dreams in part 2 of my life. So, no, I just usually chant for others or just to feel good or that I can help encourage someone else. Looking for joy in a dog's smile. A well prepared meal. Good booze, good friends. Black sand between my toes. A story well told. To be healthy, have a strong back and be of sound mind. To be a parent and be happily married. Well groomed and a bit of hair on my head. That would be something to accomplish in our family history. Truly, it would. I chanted for courage, for strength to find my way to the wide open space on the other side of this wall in my life. And yes, even a child to come to me. I chanted for the capacity to embrace it all.

So we chanted and chanted. Went to the culture centre to chant some more last night. Thank you Anacyclopedia for sending the loving thoughts my way, I felt them.

Books to read

I would like to highly recommend the book The Untelling by Tayari Jones for the Barren Bitches Brigade's book tour. It's the story of a young woman, Aria, whose father and baby sister are killed in a car accident which robs her familyof their secure middle class comfort. She grows up to find love and security with a boyfriend and believes she is pregnant. Poised on the brink of a new life, she finds herself trapped by a secret of her own making. You are really going to love this book.

PJ at Coming 2 Terms actually helped me win this book and when I received it I put it on the stack of books next to my bed. I finally got around to reading it. Had to read Silent Sorority first of course. Once I started reading it, I just slid right into the pages, if you know what I mean. It was so touching, so evocative and so simply told.

More on that hormone shit

Now that I'm temporarily free from the hormonal pit of hell courtesy of my period (am I actually thanking my period? Why - yes I am!), I'm thinking a lot more clearly. I have noticed my PMS which I've always had has noticeably gotten worse these past several months. You know the old bloaty, irritable feeling you get a week before your period? Mine has turned into 2 weeks before my period and my mood is really, really dark. I'm irritated even when I'm alone and am quite likely to yell at random drivers on the road. 'm starting to feel like the hubby really should get a night job and leave me alone with my candy and popcorn. Then I get my period and I feel so much bettter, more optimistic, even feel like spontaneously dancing. I suppose the estrogen (and other hormones) level has dropped and given me a break. I was talking to another woman about this cycle shifting crap last night and she told me she was on an antidepressant because of menopause. Holy crap! Is that what I've got to look forward to? This is the stuff I would ignore when they talked about it on TV and now I've got to start reading up. Skipped the pregnancy hormonal ride where you're ALLOWED to be crazy, as a matter of fact, people think it's cute and husbands volunteer to bring you ice cream and salty treats and rub your feet and gone straight to what's your F*** problem, here's a pill, you crabby woman!

Swell.

Well, I didn't do so well in prescription land last time, so I'm signing up for bootcamp next month. Yes. I said it. But the thought of my boobs sliding into my belly, well, that's my mother, not me. Not quite ready for that. The thought of enforced exercise and lots of salad doesn't exactly thrill me, but I don't really have much willpower or discipline, so I'm going to have to fake it until I make it. I don't have genetics on my side and if Mother Nature is intent on screwing me over, I'm going to have to fuck with her before I go down.

Musings on resolving

After I read this post on Lollipop's site http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/2009/06/mishmash-of-thoughts.html, I had one of those aha moments. These days I've had a hard time unspooling my mind from the grips of bitterness. She talks about resolving infertility and resolving childlessness. Two separate issues as you know. With my rapidly approaching birthday and nothing particularly interesting (besides Juno and yes, we're those crazy dog people now) to busy myself with, I have to admit that I'm still dealing with self hatred issues. These are old ancient issues, somewhat abated through my Buddhist practice and occasional therapy and confidence building achievements. Still hating myself for not achieving what I should have been able to achieve. Still hating my body for not miraculously being half the size it should be and for not producing a child.

I've noticed the pounds creeping back up, but what did I expect after my sporadic gym time and visits to candyland. Inertia creates a hole that I can't fill with food no matter how hard I try. Yep, should have signed up to bootcamp again. My mind said you know you should, my eyes reading the words on the website, but my heart said, it feels like punishment. Those who gain weight have to run and sweat and heave and struggle - that's punishment. And I was tired of being punished. You'll run and run and still be last behind the 27 year olds, you'll lose an inch or two here and there and so what? I remember when Sampson died and I kept going to bootcamp cause that's all I had, was the pain and sweat for one hour clouding out my pain. I smiled and pounded my aching feet up the steps of the stadium, all for the 10 minutes of endorphins I'd get in the shower later. I continued to work out with my twisted ankle and I liked the fact that I had a tangible injury to mark my grief. It didn't hurt enough.

No one has ever accused me of not showing up, of not being able to make a commitment. If I say I'm going to be there, I'll be there. I remember once years ago, I had to go to an audition and at the time I was working a temp job in a middle of some industrial area. I waited for this bus and of course, it was raining a monsoon. My piddly umbrella didn't stand a chance. The bus was nowhere in site. I waited and waited. I ran across a busy road to another bus step. The first bus showed up then. Finally a bus arrived and then it took me to a bus loop where I had to take another bus and when I made it there, I had to walk/run hard for 5 minutes. By the time I got to the studio, I was soaked through. My hair, my makeup was a mess. I tried my best to clean up. The casting director said I looked like a drowned rat. I didn't know if I wanted to smack her or crumple up and die. I was freezing, wet, teeth chattering in a skin tight black jumpsuit. I think I had one word to say. I didn't get the part.



But I showed up. I made it. Yet someone else got the part. My life went on and I had lots of roles to play and many happy things happened. I never forgot that day, though.


An analogy to the infertility experience. Waiting, waiting, running for buses, getting chilled to the bone and still not getting the part. And though I've done the "sensible" thing by turning to adoption to solve the childlessness part, I read about the long 2 year wait by friends who finally held their child in Africa right to the 6 week, 1 week, 12 days to get "chosen" stories. I feel like I'm being punished. I know it's nothing personal, right, universe, God? Anybody? Oprah? I'm not looking for pity here, I'm not even particularly upset right now, I'm just looking at the facts. This is something I probably should have been in therapy for. Aha. Blogging has been a kind of therapy and I know it has definitely kept me from snapping. I've never really talked to anybody about the effect that infertility and childlessness has had on my psyche - except to you all. I can describe it to interested friends or acquaintances, but I always self edit. So you know, I don't sound ..... CRAZY. So I don't sound depressed or stuck or obsessed or that I'm looking for pity. Cause I'm not. I'm just looking for clarity, maybe answers. Something tells me there are no answers, just a different way of looking at things.

Barfing and Ferries

Nothing new to report. Life is pretty.... well, it's there. I'm having a hard time remaining positive. I'm trying very hard not to complain cause I just annoy myself. DH is trying to be romantic to me and I'm just irritated a lot which of course makes him say, "What the hell is wrong with you?". Why do they say that? Why? Is that supposed to make me want to talk?

Went to visit the inlaws for a day. By the way - screw you BC Ferries for charging $72 for a car and 2 people each way. We would have gone the night before (there's a discount Tues - Thurs) but I was working and there are no ferries after 9pm. So screw you. We wanted to see my DH's aunt who was there for just one more day on her holiday. We brought Juno. Her ride to the ferries was a bit dreadful for her, I'm afraid. She barfed twice and was generally unwell. DH was testy as usual, as I knew he would be, he doesn't deal with barf well. He was driving but frankly once you know the dog is going to barf, there's nothing you can do about it save put a sickbag in front of her snout. He kept turning to check on her instead of watching the road. For ***%%'s sakes, just watch the road, fussing over her is not going to stop her from barfing. He's always trying to avoid mess. It's our own fault, she got to her food bowl earlier in the morning and we should have remembered to pick it up. She recovered to play with the inlaws new 2 year old cocker. Dear MIL washed the blanket and towels she heaved on. Eventually, the dogs got along and the rest of the grownups sat on the porch and drank. I had no idea older people drank so much. Apparently at 4pm, someone rings a bell in the seniors park and they all gather with drinks in hand and talk and drink and occasionally hot tub. I have to say they were incredibly funny and down to earth. Ah, the older generation, they just want to get wasted on home brewed wine. And yes, we did get asked about children, but I just pointed to the dog and the woman had the good sense to change the subject. I love old people. They talked about funny things like farting in bed and days in the Navy. And dogs, of course.

As much as I love my in-laws, I hate going to Victoria for just a day. It takes about 2 1/2 hrs by the time you leave the house. You spend a fortune in gas and ferries just to sit around and chat. Before you know it, it's time to leave. Now you can drive to the ferries, pay for parking for the day and then walk on (which is much cheaper) but when you have a dog, it's slightly problematic. One time years back, we caught the ferry with Sampson. We sat on the side of the car deck in what we thought was the least wind swept corner. It was filthy and cold, and there was one old rickety dirty chair and we had to go find another one which we had to clean before DH could sit on it. For this steerage, we paid full fare. Lucky for us, I brought a blanket. Even the employees have to wear headphones to shut out the noise. I was not impressed. Sometimes you don't get the ferry that has a prepared pet area. If you get on the bigger ferry, you sit in an area midship away from the wind on the noisy car deck (atmospheric sounds along with car alarms) on a steel bench. It's still noisy and cold, but at least you're not near an open window bay. I did this once and kind people offered to bring my coffee to keep me warm. If you're lucky you're with another pet owner and you can spell each other off if you need to use the washroom. Once again, full fare even though you're not really free to use the "amenities" of the ship. Recently, they have a new ship and that one you get to set on the car deck, but in a room with four steel chairs and a bench. Not bad. Much better. Not comfortable for a human in the slightest, but it's much improved. Ah, what we do for our pets.

There's been some talk about going away for my birthday, we don't have a pet sitter for Juno. I don't think I could leave her with our friends, she's too young and requires too much supervision, so that means bringing her with us. This will most likely involve barfing in the car and a ferry.

Perhaps some caviar and champagne with that?

We got our test results back for Satan's spawn - and long story short, we need to get her to have firm stools. I spent about 15 minutes on the phone with a vet (not the one we usually see) from the clinic who explained her soft stools could be a pancreatic issue, leaky gut or parasitic something or other and we need and we should put her on a probiotic and maybe an enzyme supplement (which they sell) and maybe a full blood panel or they could look in her bowel while spaying her, blah, blah, blah. Or it could be a food issue. She suggested I should buy her pork tenderloin and make white basmatic rice. Wait a minute. Hold up. she's not throwing up and she's not in pain, no blood in the stools, but I'm not quite convinced I need to give her the Queen's dinner quite yet.

I'm not entirely sure if they're trying to help me out (maybe, just maybe), but I think I'm going to go one step at a time. She's grown quite a bit which could explain her elevated ALP levels and we've been monkeying with her food because she wasn't gaining enough weight when we got her. We didn't have enough of her old food to transition her to a new food, so we'll have mix it in with new stuff. I'll give her the probiotic and see what happens. In any case, this should prolong her spaying and I'll see what happens when I give this report to the shelter.

Rattling cages

What have I been up to? Well, rattling some cages, making some phonecalls. Now of course, it seems things might have been easier becoming a direct client of an agency in the States. I wish I had known that a long time ago. Trying to scare me up a baby - and there's plenty out there - the one for me, however, is a trickier matter. I've been told to add more pictures to my profile. Great, that only took a year for someone to tell me. Over a year. Mmm, more pictures, eh? Now if I could just find some pictures of us without a drink in our hand. Of course, we didn't have kids, so we weren't thinking of that when we were photographed. Oh, yeah, better schedule photo ops with our friends' children. Finish the nursery so I can take a picture with an arrow over the empty crib.

I tried not to blame, I tried not to point fingers, cause you know apparently everyone can get matched faster than us, but with no waiting parent group to bounce ideas off of, it's been very emotional for me. We were the couple that would have a kid in time at all - hah! Just be patient. Hang in there. There's a birth mother out there for every waiting couple. You're top of the list! And I guess the alarm bells went off. It was starting to feel like it used to when were we trying IVF. You're next! It will be your turn soon! Great eggs! Just hang in there, be positive, drink this crap, we take Visa, take those needles and just consider yourself pregnant! And now I have gray hairs in places I can't take a picture of.

Also we've been asked to consider purely African American children. Fine. Now we did raise that question last year, but now they're asking us. Hubby is all over the idea, no doubt dreaming of a future basketball star supporting his lazy trailer park ass. So, we're opening it up, but if somebody mentions China to me, I'm gonna snap. We're too fat and old anyways. So I had the talk with hubby and I realized that one of the reasons I was hanging in for a biracial child, besides the obvious, is that I wanted a child that would have resembled the one we couldn't have. Sort of like the old dream. Not the exact one, cause that's impossible and I've already said goodbye to that dream, but one that's close enough. I also didn't want hubby to deal with stupid ass people who feel the need to voice their assumptions. As you know, in the arena of adoptive child rearing, everyone has an opinion. I didn't think I was being picky. Or racist. It just made common sense to me. Then I realized that I had to decide. Did I want to parent a child? Did I just want to be like everyone else, what everyone else seems to have taken for granted (some of course, not you guys) and just be another family on the street?

Now I told a friend the other day that motherhood was simply one of the things I wanted to do with my life. One. And yet more than a decade into our joined lives, what I am still trying to do? I am still stuck. Waiting. I had no idea that the day we "pulled the goalie" I'd still be going on about this shit. I wanted to be one of the blissfully ignorant omg what I've done with my life mothers who outwardly griped by inwardly smiled. That's not what happened. Okay, fine. I'm over it, but now I've entered another circle of hell called waiting to adopt. And I'm just about done with it. Hence, all phone calls, hi, remember us - got mocha baby? No twins, please, I still need time to get my hair done.

I've had a really good career but let's face it, I'm not young and hot (well too hot) anymore and the show business economy sucks right now. So what I am to do with my time? Raise a dog, go shopping, travel the world. Oh, yeah, I did that. Rinse. Repeat. Eat, pray, love. I wrote, I directed, I ate (boy did I eat), I prayed, crossed my legs, closed my eyes and waited. I watched my dog die before my eyes. I spent almost 3 weeks watching someone I loved very much die from cancer. I dealt with my mum and ovulation kits for 5 years. I breathed it in and breathed out love. For that I am grateful for the daimoku I chanted, cause I couldn't have made it without it. Seriously. I don't want anyone ever to ask me if I can handle a baby. I've changed diapers, so what if was my mother's. I've been sleep deprived (wake up, Juno!) and I can multitask - I'm doing laundry and having a nervous breakdown right now.

Dog food and makeup

Just a titch cranky this morning. Got my hair done yesterday and it's tighter than a .... fill in the blank. I decide to drag Juno out in the rain which so far she hates and she refused to do #2. I don't like the rain any better than she does of course but I figured if I get her out first thing, the sooner I can go back to bed with a cup of coffee and my laptop. But no, instead I drag her around like a pitiful child wondering what that nasty stuff coming out of the sky was. So back inside for food and then I drag her out again. Finally, success and back to my waiting coffee. And yes, it's still gooey. Her stuff, not mine. Sigh. But she goes to the vet tomorrow, so perhaps after some expensive test we'll figure it out. Mmm, yes, it's occurred to me that I manifested her runny bum to put off her impending surgery. Interesting. If I have to change her food again, fine, but she really likes the one she has now and at $20 a 4kg bag, she should. Whatever happened to the days where giving your dog supermarket canned food was the norm - have you ever looked at the shelves of a pet store lately? My god, these dogs eat better than some people in the world. They've got food with DHA in perfectly shaped kibble with human grade meat and vegetable and fruit products. Don't like chicken or beef? How about trout or venison or lamb or duck even? The one brand of food (that give her the squitters) looked like a can of chicken stew, you could even see the peas and carrots in it. They even have vegetarian dog food. And the canned products are even more expensive than a caramel macchiato. Of course, when you don't have a child to spoil, the furry critters of the middle class world get the best we can afford. don't look now, but they've got strollers for dogs. I'm not sure if they're for the infirm dogs, but they come in pink and blue. In my neighbourhood, organic rules and Whole Foods is a stone's throw away.

They've got everything for dogs here, but makeup for black people? That's a little trickier. Apparently, Estee Lauder has discontinued my shade of Walnut in the line I was using. I went to 3 counters downtown on Sunday looking for it. You can't even begin to imagine how pissed off I was. When I finally find one that is the right texture and close enough shade for me to use, they discontinue it. Which leaves me the choice of having to drive further afield in search of makeup that could be old and discoloured. The Fashion Fair counter disappeared years ago, then Clinique discontinued my colour, then Elizabeth Arden. Yeah, I've tried less expensive ones (which you can't get try before you buy) and I've tried custom blended Prescriptives. MAC was too oily and came off on everything, but maybe I'll go back and see if they have anything new. There are a couple of relatively new lines that are worth trying out like NARS, smashbox or Makeup Forever but I tell you, after having my makeup done by professional artists, I don't have much patience with young girls at counters that ignore you or don't know what the hell they are doing with black women or try to sell you so much junk you don't need. See, I told you I was cranky. Maybe I need more coffee. Years ago when I came to this city and tried to get some makeup. I had a professional membership card with MAC cosmetics in Toronto, but when I tried to renew it, they practically wanted my birth certificate in order to get the 30% discount. I'd show them my card but then they wanted more ID. My professional ID is either a 8X10 headshot or a laminated union card which doesn't have my picture or legal name on it. I had no intention of lugging my 8X10 headshot around so I could buy lipstick. And then I couldn't even get service because of all the young girls clogging the counters. And then when I did get service, I always ended up with the girl who had no idea of what she was doing. I'm a loyal customer so when I return to the same place, I know what I want, I want to get it, pay for it and move on in 5 minutes. If I even get a sniff of attitude like oh, she's not going to buy anything, I'll move on and probably spend twice as much right across the aisle and wave the bags in their faces. When I was younger I was ignored in the expensive stores and followed around by staff in other stores who thought I was going shoplift. And no, I wasn't wearing baggy clothes and carrying a duffel bag. Now I've developed a sense of entitlement when I go shopping in the fancy boutiques. And yes, it works. When you feel like you belong there, people take notice. If you skulk about, looking embarrassed and blanch when you see the price tag, people can see that. Last year for an exercise, I went into a high end boutique and tried on an expensive silk dress. I had lost some weight and finally felt deserving and once that silk hit my skin, I was in heaven. I had absolutely no intention of spending $1200 on a summer frock, but I was hooked on that feeling that I DESERVED nice things. That I was worth it.

I've tried the Iman line (disastrous) and I've tried Mary Kay which isn't too bad actually, not a perfect match but nothing but custom blended is. When I had lots of dough I would splurge on Prescriptives or Bobbi Brown, but I feel like I'm spending $1 a drop when I use those and god forbid I pore out too much on my fingertip or sponge. I'd try to pore it back in cause it was liquid gold. Do I need to do that when I'm just walking the dog? Mmmm, maybe. Cause I'm worth it, right?

My little girl is growing up.

My little Juno has a runny bum. I gave her some new puppy gourmet mix to her kibble and it disagreed with her even though she loved it. Either that or she got into some duck poo. I'm not sure which since she ate both in the same week. However, I discontinued the wet food that I was adding and went back to her normal stuff. I'm very good at pulling things out of her mouth, but who knows. She's pretty happy though, she's still lively and running around tearing things up. The vet told me to give her some metronizidole and 1/2 tab of Pepto bismol and wait and see for a couple of days. He also gave me his home phone number just in case. And yes, I got another email from the shelter, but I just told them she had an appt for next Wednesday. So chances of her getting spayed for the end of the month are slim since I have to wait for test results. So there. I put it out there in the internet land and seems my contract is enforceable, though a few had an attitude like I was trying to put one over on the shelter. The dog's health or well being didn't seem to be of any consideration. However, I'll make sure her health is stable for surgery. My first priority is her health. She's shedding (you don't want to know what my lululemon's look like by the end of the week) and her adult hair is coming in on her back. Lots of people keep saying "Oh, look, Marley and me dog!". She likes other dogs and is walking very well on her leash.

Update on the waiting

So I've emailed our contact at our agency and haven't heard back from her regarding our profile. Nothing. Called the lawyer back east and in the States. Nothing to report. We're still getting BM profiles, not appropriate ones, but I guess we're on the list. And thanks to Teendoc's vigilance, even contacted an adoption agency in New Jersey that is approved for Hague Convention outgoing placements. They were kind enough to provide me with a link of other appropriate agencies which I'm assuming our agency knows about. I say assuming, because they haven't called. The American agency sent me a bunch of information - the next step would be becoming a client in that State. Still have some other things I have to finish. This makes me cranky. We've got a new pup, so I guess I should update our profile, but I don't feel particulary motivated. Looking at our profile just depresses me. Yeah, I know, I'll get over it.

Well, the sun is shining and my lazy pup is stretched out on my bed dozing, got to get her up and moving. I know how to pick 'em, eh?

Bite Me

I am seriously aggravated. The rescue society where we got Juno had me sign a foster agreement for her until she was spayed whereupon I could then purchase her from them. They insisted that she had to spayed by the end of this month. I do have to say they never mentioned that she HAD to be vaccinated, just fixed. She is presently 3 months old. Now I knew this right from the beginning, but I was hoping that as time went on, seeing via pictures and talking with the adoption counsellor on the phone that she was well loved and that they would let it slide a bit. I had 2 vets recommend that the procedure be done at 6 months. Actually our old vet said that he would have refused to do it until she was 6 months old. The other vet where the society had arranged to have her spayed, didn't want to do it that early either and couldn't understand why they were insisting on it, but apparently someone there in charge said they would. And since the vet I saw is just on call and not the owner/vet in charge of everything, I guess her opinion doesn't carry much weight. I had her call the shelter but apparently they were not prepared to bend the rules. So I'm taking her in next week for the recommended pre-anaesthesia consult. This of course will cost me money. I would like to get a medical note saying she's too underweight for surgery or something, but we'll have to see. I'm not getting the feeling this vet is willing to lie or anything.

Is it just my imagination or is the shelter being a tad militant and inflexible? Not particularly the girl I speak to but her supervisor. Who by the way has not picked up the phone to explain to me why this is such a iron clad rule. The supervisor wouldn't speak to the vet either. And from what I hear she's regretting her decision to make alternative arrangements. I bet. I'm sure she really does care about animals and I'm also sure she doesn't give a rat's ass about how I feel. I just keep getting the broken record spiel about it being policy and that Juno is still their dog. Really. Try and take her back from me. Seriously.

I understand there's two schools of thought on neutering. Some say early spaying is fine, others say spaying should be done at 6 months. I can also appreciate that early spaying for shelter animals is preferable. However, my beloved Juno is not in a shelter. She's in my home under our care. Our very expensive and nurturing care. She's not let out in a yard cause we don't have one. We live in a city that just adores its dogs and there are not too many unleashed unneutered dogs roaming around the sidewalks near Starbucks looking for an easy lay. Let's be clear about this. I want her to be spayed, I can barely handle my own plumbing, I don't care to bother with hers. I have no intention of breeding her. I would never do that, have no interest. However, I just want what's best for her. At the time that is best for her. So let's just hope that at whatever point this spay procedure does gets done, that it all goes smoothly and her recovery and continued health is fine. Cause I just want to buy her from them and wash my hands of them. I didn't mean to start a conflict (or maybe I did, I don't know), but the one thing that truly gets my back up is when people try to make me do something that I don't want to do. And just because they cite a "rule".

Grrrrr.

Maybe I'm too picky

http://www.vancouversun.com/Life/Adoption+tale+mothers/1603767/story.html

I read this story with as much interest as I read about Val Cole's journey through IVF. And now she's a mother. And I'm still waiting. It's an incredible story of the birth mother who left Mexico and came to Canada to have her baby. Is there a miracle out there for me, I wonder.

Desperate housewife

This is what I started and deleted the other day. DH found a short history of a biracial 4 year old child on the provincial adoption waiting list. My immediate thought was no, I want a baby. What about attachment issues with the foster mum, where is her biological mum, questions begat more questions. Maybe, maybe. Another process to begin, more forms, more protocol, more questions. Which way to go?


Then I asked myself, why do I want a baby? Cause everyone else has one? Cause I want to buy cute little clothes and have a baby shower and people over to ooh and aahh, all the other things that I never got to experience as a biological mum of my own? Did I not realize how sleep deprived and crazy I would get worrying about which bisphenol free bottle to use? What about feeding her and bathing her tiny little body, memorizing every crease and detail? Watching her eyes become focused on mine as the one who would love and care for her? What if I left the kid in the car? Have I got what it takes to be a yummy mummy? I don't have a nanny, how am I supposed to get my hair done and go to the gym. What about DH, would he be content with the changes? My mum could coo and hold her - I know she would love her. I know she would accept her.


The other day, mum and I were hanging out at Starbucks. As per usual, I was reading a local paper and she was looking out the window at the people, we'd chat about this and that. A man came up with a child in a stroller and parked it so that the baby was looking in at us through the window. Then the mum came along with a little Yorkshire in her hands. Mum looked at me and said, "Soon, that will be you." Tears welled in my eyes. I wanted to ask her, when, WHEN??! I wanted to believe that she knew something that I didn't.


And yet, my mind wondered to what life would look like if I did have an older child. I could take him or her to preschool or elementary school. I could have a bit of time to myself. We could go on vacation, maybe Disneyland and I wouldn't have to tote around diapers and bottles. We could dispense entirely the conversations about consistency of poo. I could talk to the kid. Help with the homework, teach how to tie shoes. I would have to earn their trust, help them to adjust to not having their present foster parent, maybe a new routine, cook their favourite foods.


Sigh. I'm a desperate housewife. Minus the gold credit card and the fake tits. My professional life is non-existent cause in show business you're only as good as your last job - which for me was a year ago. I am a woman of a certain age in a business that worships the young(er). I cringe but there you have it. I only get really jazzed up creatively when I'm working on a project, but until then.... I work at my joe job, move around the creative irons in fire so to speak, take care of my puppy, my mum, my hubby and do Buddhist activities (which I totally adore). So of course, I've attached my identity to being a mum - you know the MOST DIFFICULT JOB IN THE WORLD. I've got my resume in hand, filling out applications and no one is calling me back.


Hubby and I had a conversation the other night. Well, he did. I got a little defensive, I admit it, but it was because he asked why we had taken so long to get things done. He's been just as frustrated and discouraged by the lack of results. He's pragmatic and more "shit or get off the pot" kind of guy. Me, I'm more like "mmm, maybe I'll shit, maybe I won't, maybe I'll have a coffee, what's that shiny thing over there" kind of girl. Yes, we drive each other crazy sometimes. We should have gone with the US lawyer sooner, should have done our profile sooner, should have gone online sooner, etc. If we had to pull the plug on this, did we really do everything we could have done to make this thing happen? Maybe we didn't move fast enough. We're going to be senior citizens by the time this theoretical child is in high school. We need to start living our lives instead of just "waiting". Maybe we're not cut out for this shit. All true and significant points. It's nothing that I haven't considered. I heard that he was saying that he didn't need a child to "complete" him especially one that doesn't come out of me. He's cried right along with me after each failed IVF attempt. I didn't bring up the fact that at the end of our homestudy, we found that we had to do repair work on our relationship - and I had to work on the size of my ass - so our hot and heavy pursuit was significantly delayed. I know my enthusiasm was certainly dampened. I had become so focused on getting a child or rather NOT having one, that I had conveniently ignored the fallout of infertility and depression. Of course, obsession only works when you're finally successful.


It's a little like the acting profession. It's a highly competitive field and only a tiny percentage make a living out from it. You spend a great deal of time and money on classes, pictures, finding the right agent. The agent is always so excited at first and you get a lot of auditions. If you're not fortunate, you don't book. Other people seem to be working, but not you. Then as time goes by, the auditions get fewer and fewer and you have to figure out how to have a life in between them. Sometimes you get miserable, sometimes you get depressed. When you get a call, you drop everything, all your plans and your whole body goes into alert mode. What time is it, where do I have to go, how do I get there, do I have to cancel work, change plans, buy the right clothes, learn a song, brush up on an accent? Do I have time to find a coach, can I afford it, can I just wing it on my own? Do I stay up late to learn my lines, or get up super early? Then after the audition, you rush back to your joe job, and jump every time the phone rings - is it my agent, please let me get that job so I can quit this shitty job? You wait and wait, sometimes for days. Should I call my agent, what was the feedback? Sometimes, the call never comes. Maybe you start to resent the phone call cause it puts you back into the merry go round again. Maybe you need to find another agent and boy, let me tell you, that sucks. You hear in acting class how so and so is working, who got the job, what film is coming to town that you didn't get in to audition for and you start to question your worth. Your self esteem plummets. How much do you love acting? How long do you do this? Is getting a gig every now and then worth all the sacrifice, the hard work. You watch other friends get good jobs, buy homes and cars and build families. You doggedly pursue your dream and there's enough carrots to keep you going. Don't look now, but those carrots aren't helping you to get over the broken bones from the sticks. But the big break just never seems to come your way, it's not that you're not talented, it's not that you don't care. You just get tired of trying to reinvent yourself, prove yourself over and over and over. A thick resume in another profession might guarantee you respect and reward. But like I said, obsession only counts when you win big time. Then it can be described as dedication.


In both circumstances, I would have made different choices. Certainly speedier choices. If I knew then what I know now. There really isn't a roadmap to follow in these cases. None that I've seen anyway. Maybe I haven't been obsessed ENOUGH.

I'm sensing an end to this, one way or the other.

Talking about my mum

I put up a post yesterday, then deleted it. I need a bit more time to ponder things. I'll tell you about it later. A trait that hubby has never truly appreciated about it me (for understandable reasons) but there you have it.

We'd had a really busy day on Mother's Day. The care and feeding of Juno of course. She's not eating as much as we think she should and so we're trying to figure out what to do. Then he had to leave to pick up his mum at the ferry and I had to wait for the dog to wake up from her nap, get her fed, make sure she eliminated OUTSIDE, and shower, get all dolled up for My Mother's Story show, and tidy up the place. Then when they arrived, we crated the dog, I went to pick up mum ( I called ahead to make sure she looked presentable) and then we all went for lunch nearby. We had a good time, of course not mentioning that DH and MIL were going to see the show. I had decided earlier that it was best that she didn't attend this year's show. Her attention span isn't very long these days and the show runs 90 minutes straight. And half hour before the show, all the actresses are serving cookies and things to all the arriving guests (mothers, daughters, sons) and it would be too much. Then DH had to scramble to get his mum back to the ferries at 7pm and he wouldn't have time to take her back to the home and of course, one of us had to get back to the dog. So as you can imagine, I was a bit emotional about presenting a story about my mum's life and she wasn't there in attendance. DH always takes care of her and takes her to see my shows, but let's face it, with my mum it's all about her, and for once, I wanted him to spend time with his own own mum (who had come from Victoria to see us) uninterrupted. We are the only children here for our mums so sometimes we get a little stretched thin.

Turns out it was a good call, cause mum did get a little antsy at lunch, pretty sure she got a little drunk on white wine and we had to go for a little walkabout. I dropped her off with a bunch of roses and immediately had to head out to the theatre as I had to be there 2 hours before the show. The traffic of course on Granville Island was horrific (beautiful sunny day on Mother's Day) but I was only 10 minutes late so it all worked out.

My Mother's Story, is an amalgam of 20 different stories from Vancouver actresses about their mothers. This is one of the stories I told about my mum:

"After moving here to live with me, my mother had a stroke on her way to do some extra work on I, Robot. She was eventually diagnosed with dementia and I had to put her into residential care. One day, I picked her up at the home to find that a loving aide had braided her hair and put little artificial flowers in it. My mum was dressed in orange that day and by chance I arrived dressed in my favourite orange outfit. My mum and I walked down Robson Street, amidst the busy shoppers, hand in hand. As I looked over at her, with me leading her through the streams of people , I realized that I now knew what it must have felt to be her leading me, as a child, down a busy street: watchful, protective, proud that she looked so cute with flowers in her hair and in an outfit that matched mine. It was like time stood still and I had become the "mother" and she, all 69 years of her (now she's 74), had become the "daughter". This is a woman who, for most of my life, I could not be in the same room with, always ran from, always tried not to be like. Our bond is deep, undeniable, and inescapable. But really, who am I kidding? She is and always will the the "mother" and I will always be her child."

Yeah, I was a little emotional after the show. We all are. Felt a bit guilty that I had practically dumped her back at the home and took off to the theatre. She has seen the show, twice before. Still. I think this is what it's like when women drop their children at daycare to go to work. You want to be there for your loved ones, the ones who depend on you, but sometimes you just can't. You have to do what you have to do. Even if it's an hour to have a peaceful hour at the spa. Luckily, she's got dementia! And like a 3 year old, she's got a short memory! HAHAHAH. I just made fun of my demented mother. That's another show.

TGIF!

Feeling better today. I even had the strength to bathe Juno. She got a little motor oil on her (don't ask me, I left her with DH) and her fatties were a little less than fresh. She apparently thinks water will kill her and I got more water on me than I did on her. And of course, after she's racing around with her prize of an ice cube all clean and fresh. I've been using the kitchen sink which would work if she would actually sit down and let me do it instead of trying to claw her way up my torso.

Yesterday I did some daimoku with friends and last night I did a public seminar on Nichiren Buddhism. Made me forget all about the fact that I broke my glasses (right on the bridge) because they were on the couch and I sat on them after I was trying to stop Lucy (short for Lucifer) from destroying my jade plant. Which made me a little miserable cause I really need new glasses with a different prescription (yeah, yeah, progressives) but of course I was saving for you know what. New glasses are around the cost of a crib. I do have contacts so I'll just wear those.

Anyways, back to the public seminar. We had some young men that came right off the street and they were incredible. They were so open and positive. We had some amazing dialogue with people and it really touched my heart and lifted my spirits. I was just feeling in a box and seeing the path closed before me. But I've been told that when there are obstacles in front of you, learn to fly.

I'm going to start a daimoku campaign (chanting for one hour a day) to really make some breakthroughs.

And in the meanwhile, stay tapped into positive activities and taking care of Miss Juno/Lucifer. Here's a little video of Juno with her pal, Harvey.

Hanging in there

I am feeling a little meh today. Inevitably, this means I must take action, I'm just not sure which one. We got another enquiry from our agency, I asked for our profile to be submitted and once again, it went over our financial threshold. This child was already born. Sigh. Honestly, if we had known then what we know now, we would have tried the surrogacy route in the States or maybe even India. Now, my eggs are toast. Haha. DH and I had a little chat the other morning - he's getting pessimistic and it took everything in me to sound hopeful. He's wary of his age and is wondering if it's worth it to have a 20 year old and be in your sixties. I really, really hate to see him so discouraged. The one time we do get chosen and it's loaded with problems and the ones that "seem" favourable, it's dangled beyond our reach. I know it's all theoretical in a way, there are no guarantees of a happily ever after, yet it seems so cruel. We went from being this special couple who would have a child by "Christmas" and now everyone is scratching their heads as to why it's taking so long. Good things come to those who wait? I'm not one to believe in negative signs from the universe. Only positive ones. Our profile, we are told, is not the problem, but if changes are to be made, that's an easy fix. He's contemplating opening up our request for other children, older children. So I went to two provincial waiting children lists. I don't think we can go to another province though. We didn't want a "conspicuous" adoption initially, attachment issues seem to be difficult as it was. But who knows?

A friend of ours is just weeks away from bringing her Ethiopian child home. She's seen him grow to almost 12 months in photos. His room is ready and waiting for him, her son after such a long time. I am happy and relieved for her. To know this child is there sitting in an orphanage just waiting for paperwork to be signed and sealed, the yearning for him was heartbreaking.

As I surf adoption blogs, I read that some wait a year, some wait a few weeks. I don't have a picture. I don't have anything to hang on to. Just a whisper of a hope. I guess I'm in good company.

Meanwhile, Juno has eased the waiting a bit. She's exhausting. When she's sleepy, she's as sweet as pie. When she's revved up, she's like Lucifer on crack.

Sampson and Nikki together at last

Sampson's long time friend and playmate, Nikki, a beautiful white Akita, passed away last night. Together, forever at last at Rainbow Bridge. She was our old neighbour's dog. I really loved this dog. She was so special. Before we had Sampson, when I was suffering from deep depression, I would walk this dog and I felt a part of the world again. She was so calm, so accepting, so healing. Graceful, keen intelligence, snooty and cold to those she didn't know, she became a great companion for me. We were worried when we got Sampson that she would make his life difficult because she was very dominant, but Sampson was too thick to realize when she was truly annoyed with him and they fell madly in love. I called her a Japanese princess. She was dainty and refined but quite the bitch when she wanted to be. She would even protect Sampson from strange dogs. They adored each other's company.

We all spent hours together at Spanish Banks beach, having picnics and playing in the water, going for walks in the endowment lands, Sampson and Nikki chasing each other til exhaustion on the grounds of a nearby church. She was an amazing dog and she will be missed by her family and by all those who knew her. Give Big Boy a kiss for me, Princess.

Juno is jumping

Little Miss Terror is back to being her stubborn self. She's back to humping Harvey etc, so that's good. She's outputting her usual prodigious amount, and with a change of food, she's eating more. So we'll just have to wait and see.


As for her housetraining her, she is quite good with going on the puppy pads on the patio, but the problem is now she has no interest in going outside at all. We have to drag her to the elevator. DH and I actually had an argument in front of my mum over her housetraining. Even she thought it was asinine. You know, my way vs. his way. At the rate that this dog goes, I might as well pitch a tent outside cause that's the only way HIS WAY will work. And when we do get her outside, she's more interested in chewing grass, sticks, etc than in doing her business. And yes, whenever I took her out I praised her and treated her after she did her thing. Unfortunately, she's not that interested in food as a reward. It's like oh, yeah, I've had that before and I'd rather play with this stick. So new treat, chew toy, different locale? I'm thinking it will all work out anyway with a bit of PATIENCE.

It brought me back to the time we used to argue over leash or no leash with Sampson. Oh, brother. How silly. However, we did realize that we need some us time, so this weekend, we'll do something nice for ourselves. Instead of talking about her poo or where's the dog or what the hell is she eating now or whose turn it is to take her out, we'll just go and try and be like normal people for a change.

New mum panic!

This morning, I notice Juno is peeing an awful lot! As in she's squatting 5 or 6 times and straining to go #2. This is not her usual MO. Also she wasn't interesting in eating her food or drinking water. Great. She does eventually go #2, but she's still having little piddles. I call my old vet and arrange to bring her in. Then of course, I try to obtain a urine sample. I think it might be a UTI. She thinks the parchment paper I put down (in an attempt to make her think it's a puppy pad) is for shredding. Plastic wrap trick doesn't work either. She eventually went on a rubber mat we put outside on the patio and I drained that into a small tupperware container.

The vet tested it but it wasn't definitive though he noted it was very akaline. He put a deworming pill down her throat and told me to do it every two weeks. We had dropped off a poo sample at another vet's (the one the shelter referred us to for spaying) and they said it was negative for parasites and after her initial exam there, the vet wasn't sure she should treat her or with what treatment pending more information. Sigh. I don't know. I guess one approach was more conservative and this vet is more old fashioned (POO TEST! AH, DON'T BOTHER WITH THAT, DEWORM HER EVERY 2 WEEKS). So, both vets agree she's skinny and we should be experimenting with different foods to get her to eat more. So we're going to feed eat more small meals throughout the day and evening.

So, I'll just check on her toilet habits and watch her closely to make sure she's doing okay. I went out and bought different food- grain free, canned food (damn, it smells tasty) and hope the rest of the day goes smoothly.

Man, this is a full time job!

Good times with Juno

Just so you know I really am crazy about this pooch. Most importantly, she is teaching me that I'm a cranky pants that is slow to adjust to change and at my age, when I have growing pains, I don't creak, I bitch. The other night I was watching a horror movie and there was a fair amount of screaming - little Miss Juno got a little freaked out so I held in her my arms up on the couch - sssh, don't tell - and she just nestled in all sleepy and cozy with some puppy licks. Mmmm, just us girls.

She also has a new boyfriend, a huge rabbit I call Harvey. I don't know where she picked this up, but I caught her humping him last night. We have to have a little talk.

Almost killed the dog

Had a nice sleep in on the weekend, only to awake to hubby's serious face. When I got up, he was all in motion (which is not good) cause that means he's been moving things around. He dramatically showed me that my laptop power cord had nearly been chewed through - he twisted it and it sparked. One more chew and our puppy would have been a goner. Great. I almost killed the dog. Hey, give me your kid!

He was very upset which I took to mean it was all my fault, but then I recognized that he was angry cause neither one of us had noticed. He was scared. So it's obvious we need to be more careful with Juno. She's teething and putting EVERYTHING in her mouth. She even likes to chew on rocks! The downside to having a puppy is that you can't turn your back on her for 10 seconds. She's either pissing where she shouldn't, eating the carpet (thank goodness it's not really expensive) or chewing on something she shouldn't. I was busy this weekend so that meant he spent almost all of his time with her which meant he got a taste of what I do with her during the week. He didn't like it. He was attempting to launder his work shirts and relax a bit. That doesn't happen with Juno. No wonder he was short tempered and impatient. But this is what is required. You have to have patience, I wait til she's asleep then I take a shower and clean the house and do the laundry. I don't play with her so hard that she's so wound up she goes crazy. I crate her when I need to. She whines and barks, I ignore it. I expect her to try my patience.

He expects the poor dog to be housetrained already, but the reality is that when you live in an apartment, it's a bitch cause you have to take the elevator and go downstairs and cross the street. You just can't open the back door and let her out in the yard. You take her out, she does her business, she comes back in and drinks a little water and 5 seconds later or 10 minutes later, pees again (mostly on the puppy pads....er.... mostly). If you sit down to eat or do something and she's just had her food, she will go out and poo or pee on the patio before you get a chance to put on your shoes. So you get up and clean it up and put out fresh puppy pads. I am constantly sweeping hair, paint chips, carpet fibre, rocks out of her mouth. She has a lot of energy when she's "on" - she's a little like "Spike" from the Gremlins. Even sounds like him a bit.

Oh, sure, I told him what did he think life with a baby was going to be like. Or a toddler. I hope a baby won't chew on my power cord. But who knows, right? This is why the grocery shopping hasn't been done, this is why this or that doesn't get done right away. Patience, my dear, patience. It's not all just fun and games with babies, right?

Life is funny

I have to say, I'm doing a little bit of struggling here with the whole waiting to adopt/IF world. I actually forgot to add my link to the ICLW thing, but I've been checking the list and when I go to an IF blogs I find an awful lot of "just got pregnant" entries. Which is great news and all, but it always makes me feel a little, well, like I've stumbled across a blog that is really about how to needlepoint. Something that I have tried in the past, but was never good at. I can't relate to that experience and I can't relate to open adoption bloggers cause I don't have a child and can't relate to the joy of being a mom. Maybe I should try new puppy blogs.

I went to the bookstore the other day and bought my friend What to Expect When You're Expecting book. She's in the blissfully ignorant stage about how she should or shouldn't feel and she's been asking me questions about things I have no idea about. I feel odd reassuring her about something I've never experienced. I just happen to know certain things because of all the blogs I've read. I notice how careful she is when she shares news about whatever milestone she has achieved; the latest being that her growing baby is doing so well she doesn't have to have an amniocentesis. I listen.

Then my younger sister calls and she is absolutely exhausted from dealing with the trials of her chronically ill 5 year old. Her husband has to work almost 100 miles away from home and doesn't come home til the weekends. All she's ever known is dealing with constant doctor visits, procedures, missed diagnoses, conflicts with insurance companies over paying for this test or that specialist and uncooperative teachers. She's broke and can't afford private education for him. I listen. She's missed the irony I am absolutely exhausted with the pursuit of even having a child. I'm looking to cash in my life savings for a child. Flip sides of a coin.

Life is funny. Juno really does fill a spot in my heart, though. I really enjoy taking care of her. I'm looking for (used) baby gates for my new puppy. Apparently, they're a hot commodity cause I can't get them other than at retail prices. I can't take her out for walks cause she hasn't had her 2nd set of shots. The shelter won't let me officially"adopt" her til she gets spayed, and are insisting it be done by 3 months. But it's okay that I rack up the vet bills. Did you know that you have consultations before the spay now where they need a blood panel done? I didn't. The vet I took her to doesn't understand the rush since she is so young and has until 6 months of age. I paid $40 just to have her look her over and clip her nails and I still have to have a poop test done. I just want to buy the bleeping dog and get on with making the decisions. It's the fact that someone else is calling the shots that's really bugging me.

Flipping through the latest O magazine I come across the ad featuring an expectant super model for Skechers "Nothing matters more than family". Hmmmm. Really. Can't get away from it even on can.

Easier than a kid

http://awomanmyage.blogspot.com/2009/03/welcome-to-iclw.html

Another ICLW for the month of April and I've included a link above for the quick lowdown. I've been blogging about my new puppy a lot cause, well, I don't have a kid and smell of a puppy is better than baby poo. Sort of. In retrospect, I should have had one of those ticker things for Juno. Hah!

We've been getting more birthmother profiles, mainly inappropriate for us, but we're getting them, so it's just a waiting game at this point. I saw one the other day that really had me scratching my head. These parents already had children and were looking to place this last one. Mmm. I assume this choice is out of financial necessity, but that's so sad. How does one explain to a child that his parents kept the other children but not him? Does it really matter? I don't know. We get so little information, a few sentences really. And then we put our name in the hat and wait.

I'm looking at cribs now, change tables and the like. The 2nd bedroom is starting to feel like it might actually hold a child. I can barely manage a puppy and my mother in the same room. My sister called in the middle of me making dietetic apple crumble for my mum, watching the dog and while I was listening to her, mum was up and down getting into all sorts of things, hubby is narrating her every move, trying to throw her spit on the floor, hovering over me wanting to speak to her and finally I had to cut the conversations short. Oooh, like every woman I've ever talked to who had become a mother! Man, I look forward to cutting heartfelt and important conversations off! Do you know how many times I've been in the middle of some heart rending story with a friend who "had to go now"?! I totally understand they don't have that kind of time anymore, but honestly. Will I be any different? Mmm, only to infertiles. So there.

The constant getting up and down in the night for the puppy is giving me a clue as to how tired I'm apt to be. How in the hell do women carry on their careers, I have no idea. Particularly self employed women who don't have an office to go to. I was a feeling a little trapped just hanging out with the puppy at home. She won't be getting her 2nd series of shots for a while and I'm not supposed to go to dog parks and the like. In this city, it's hard to avoid other dogs, since there are a LOT of dogs in our neighbourhood and I don't have a backyard. So Juno and I have been hanging out at the green spot next to this restaurant and the Bikram's studio next door. Just getting used to the noise of the city. I'm going to be planning a litter for her on the patio, I'm about done with the trips outside at 4am in my jammies.

Survived the weekend

DH's surprise laser tag party went great! My friend showed up to puppysit, and DH, his brother (who was in town for a visit) headed out. We had to have a couple of Red Bulls, we were exhausted. Then I gave hubby driving instructions as went went along. Then he saw the laser tag sign and a bunch of his friends in the parking lot. He was really surprised! We all had a really great time running around in the dark, trying to shoot each other. There was another birthday party (of real kids) and they were pinging us off all over the place, and since they were all about 4 ft tall, you could barely see them unless you looked down! The little buggers, they could hide really well. Apparently playing video games makes you quite accurate. Later, after the DQ ice cream cake and pizza, we went to a nearby pub for a drink. I was so happy to see DH laugh and have so much, he was really touched by my efforts.

All in all, a very successful weekend. In 3 days, we have have figured out how to get Juno to eliminate outside with consistency. We finally remembered to pick up her water bowl after 30 minutes at meal times and no more water after 7pm. She hates it and I feel badly cause I know she is used to ready access to water but it works. (I'm sure we'll cave on that one.) Second task was to get her to sleep soundly at night without putting up a racket. We decided to bring her kennel into the bedroom hoping that if we were in the same room, she would settle down quickly. She started to cry when we locked her in but she stopped in 45 seconds and slept for 4 1/2 hrs quietly. I woke up hubby to take her out for a pee and when he brought her back in, she went back to sleep - quietly! Victory!

DH's brother leaves tonight and then hubby goes back to work tomorrow and then it's Juno and me time. I think I've got the unshowered, in my sweats, messy hair new mum look down pat.

PS. Congratulations to all those Sun Runners! I hope you 10K run was very successful.

Day one

We had fun last night despite all the "accidents". Despite the mutt whisperer's constant instructions from the couch (GRRR), it's apparent that I have way more patience and flexibility. Also I don't think DH is going to do well with sleep deprivation. Is it just me or do women seem handle that better? The night was - interesting - to say the least. Not much sleep for either one of us. Apparently, she doesn't appreciate being locked up by herself. This close confinement at night is difficult in an apartment. Of course, a baby can cry for much longer, but people don't generally feel the need to complain about that. And trust me on this, the people in this part of town LOVE to complain about noise. Coming from Toronto, this has never made sense to me. You live downtown, you have people going up and down the allies all night plundering the recycle bins for bottles, party buses (WOOOO!) by the gas station, fire, police and ambulance sirens, but if your neighbour breathes too loud, there's a good chance the cops, building manager or a nasty note will be by your door. Anyhoo, I digress.

I kept trying the so called expert housetraining rules. (They don't mention what to do if your puppy refuses to go outside cause she's too freaked out by being outside for the first time in her short life.) By 5am I had success. I whipped the puppy pad over to where she was about to eliminate and TADA - success! And she actually circled on it and took a poo! It's apparent I need an enclosure - she doesn't even like being on the patio but I need to get her used to the city noise. And now of course, it's raining outside and cold so it's not very nice at all. But we're going out no matter what.

Now I just have to figure out how I can possibly leave the house for an hour without her howling the place down.

Here's Juno!!!!!!!

Hey I only shit twice and peed twice already in their apartment because I like doing it indoors! Even though they took me outside! Hahaha! I showed them!!

On the way home from the shelter, she howled like crazy and threw up a lot, but she settled down eventually and the by the time we got to the halfway point, she was fine. Hubby took over when we got home, I left to visit mum, buy her a collar, harness and leash and run around to get stuff for his birthday (rose, Balloon, a lovely little Riesling to go with the Indian dinner we'll be ordering in) and trying to take pics for my MIL AND put the pee/poo soaked towels into the laundry. Thank goodness for ensuite laundry. And also thank goodness for PUPPY PADS. Since she's been in confined area with the rest of her litter, she has a preference for soiling very close to where she sleeps (within 5 feet). Oh, we tried to take her out after she ate and drank. We both read the housetraining articles. She did nothing but sit on my feet and fool around for 20 minutes. But the second she was near her kennel again - TADA!!

Hey, if I have to read about your baby's bowel movements, you have to hear about my dog's. You know who you are.

Ah, the sweet smell of puppy breath!

One more sleep

We've been getting a few more inquiries for adoptive parents recently. That's great news! I'm learning not to jump all over it like a starving woman over a piece of bread (though sometimes that's how I feel). We replied to one that seemed too good to be true. When I got the call about the costs I just about drove off the road! I think I yelled through the phone at the woman, so sorry, but I had no idea that the costs could be so varying from one agency to the next. This one was close to double to what we've been hearing about. And that's in US dollars folks, so I have to factor in 20% more. I could probably get a Mercedes for less, I'm not kidding. I didn't even have to speak to hubby on that one. When he did find out however, he was not amused. He was having a really bad day at work and by the time I caught up with him later, he looked miserable. No, he did not want to talk about it either.


So I had to content myself with puppy toys at the pet store. I hadn't been there since last year of course. Could barely even walk by it when doing my errands. And now I'm looking at puppy training pads, toys, collars. Need to get pet care insurance. Goodbye, clean smelling house. Mmmm, I'm petrified. Just had to say.


Also, I'm arranging to surprise hubby with a birthday party at a laser tag play centre this weekend. He doesn't really like surprise parties at all, but I'm hoping he'll forgive me this one time. He's such a big kid at heart and let's face it, what wife hasn't considered shooting her husband just once? I just want him to have fun and be goofy and I wish I could do more for him. And we get DQ cake and pizza too!

TOMORROW is the day I go get Juno - on hubby's b'day. So I guess we'll order in Indian and hang out with our furry baby girl.