Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
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.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
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.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
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!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
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.
Friday, June 26, 2009
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.
Monday, June 22, 2009
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.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
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.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
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.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
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.
Monday, June 8, 2009
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.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
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.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
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?
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
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?
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
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".
Monday, May 18, 2009
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.
Monday, May 11, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, May 8, 2009
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.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
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.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
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.
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!
Monday, April 27, 2009
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.
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?
Saturday, April 25, 2009
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.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
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.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
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!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
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.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Easter weekend with DH's family was lovely. I am always amazed that these people can talk all day long to one another. And their new dog, an adorable black cocker spaniel gave everyone lots of laughs. For them Easter is all about chocolate, hot cross buns, card games and hanging out with family. Not going to church or the resurrection or anything. Being brought up Christian, I actually did pay attention to that part of it. I always thought it was a really cool story, and I never thought the women got enough credit for keeping the faith.
Anyways, had to dash out and get my mother to bring her over. Mum is always an exercise in patience. I'm a bit of a spaz case when I'm making large family meals and I want everything just so (minus the Martha Stewart touch - I have neither a dining table for 8 or matching plates - well, I do, but they require handwashing - what was I thinking when I bought those plates with gold trim?!!!), so dealing with her requires I take it down a notch or two. As usual, mum dispensed her special brand of humour and stayed a lot longer than she usually does. My BIL now has diabetes, so I tried very hard to pay special attention to his dietary needs and to make sure he had breakfast. Even made a dietetic apple crisp for dessert. DH and my MIL were a whirl of activity, getting last minute things, handling the cooking while I got mum, the men cleaning up. I'm so grateful to them.
I am at risk for diabetes because it runs in my family and whenever I don't feel well it's always in the back of my mind. I don't have any of the usual symptoms other than fatigue. That could be due to my typically low iron levels, though. Last week when I went to the airport I had a pain in my right side (ovary/appendix height) and I limped all day. Did I pull a groin muscle, hip flexor, did I pull an ovary? I have no idea, but Advil didn't do much for it. It wasn't agonizing or anything, just a steady dull ache that went straight through to my lower back. As long as I didn't move too much, I was fine - I even tried to go to the gym, but only made it half way down the street before I had to turn back. It's gone now, but I feel quite bloated. Or maybe it's a roll of fat. Seriously, stress eating has crept back in. My symptoms are so vague, it could be just gas. That would be embarrassing! I am going to the doctor's today, don't worry.
We had one sunny day so we went for a walk in the park and of course, we talked about Saint Sampson and how he would chase the squirrels, the park bench where we would rest, etc. There wasn't a spot that we hadn't walked. I hadn't done that walk since last summer. I had to go to work that afternoon (not complaining, I need the work) and when I came home, hubby had brought out a bag of his stuff. I stayed up late and went through some of his stuff that I could use for the new puppy, his old bitten up Woodstock doll, his old towels, his food bowls. Yep, hubby found me bawling my eyes out. Hard to believe that I could still shed so many tears.
I borrowed an old kennel from a friend, washing it out, have to go to the pet store, getting ready for a furry, 4 legged creature to come and trash my neatly ordered life. I need puppy food and some fresh toys and things. Fresh with no memories attached.