A special kind of procrastinating

Tonight I tackled a project that's been gnawing at me for some time - I organized my dresser drawers. When we moved Portland in March, I was about 5 months pregnant and fully in maternity clothes. When we unpacked, I put only maternity clothes in my dresser and all other clothes went into storage bins. Ever since Cy was born, I'd been slowing adding non-maternity clothes to my dresser as my body returns to some semblance of it's former shape. As a result, my drawers had gotten really out of hand. There was basically no organization left whatsoever - I was just putting items wherever they would fit, regardless of what other items occupied the drawer. Finally, it just got to be too much. I had Jason take the storage bins off of the top shelf and I commenced sorting my clothes into three piles: maternity clothes to be stored until pregnancy #2, clothes that currently fit or are very, very close to fitting, and clothes that are still quite a ways away from fitting, and may in fact never fit.

I got about 3/4 of the way through my project and then lost motivation. Of course, this is the point in the project when things still look pretty bad - most items have been put in their place, but there is a smattering of items from all categories scattered across the bed, as well as some things about which I'm just not sure what to do. I walked out to the living to complain to Jason about how much I just didn't want to do this project anymore. He asked me how far I had to go, and when I replied that I was almost finished he gave me a knowing smile and said "Right there is your problem. You never want to finish things."

And he's right. This is my special form of procrastination, and it applies to all areas of my life. I get very close to the end of something - a term paper, packing, a household project, cleaning, organizing, etc - and I just kind of give up. I used to spend nearly as much time writing the conclusion to an essay as I did writing the entire remainder of the essay, and I usually finished the paper with no time to spare, even if I had started it plenty early. Even letter writing and thank-you notes are affected by this. I don't know how many times I have written a thank-you note, even addressed the envelope, and then never sent it because I didn't have a stamp, or just didn't take the time to put a stamp on. Every time I tackle a project like the one tonight, I stop just short of finishing it. Even as I write this post, there are a few items that need to be hung up that are still sitting on my bed.

I have no real explanation for why I do this. Perhaps it is a result of my perfectionism. Maybe there's some kind of fear that as long as a project remains incomplete, I can still fix it. This makes sense with an essay or even with thank-you notes, but makes no real sense when it comes to cleaning and organization. Sometimes I think it's a product of my indecisiveness - things left at the end of a project are often things for which I don't have a clear place or solution, and therefore I just kind of give up. Who knows?

Ha! Even now, I'm sitting here trying to figure out how the heck to end this blog post. Hmm. I'll guess I'll just leave it at that...a weakness that I need to work on.

My newly organized drawers. Look, I completed a project!

Suprising things I've done in the past 10 years

I won't lie, I am struggling with NaBloPoMo today. I am very tired and lacking inspiration. So, here is a list of some thing that I've done over the past 10 years that have been surprising to my family/friends, me or both.

1. Choose to spend a summer living in the woods in New Jersey with a bunch of crazy kids for a laughably small amount of money. This included using a latrine, sleeping in a teepee with a mosquito net, and going on several overnight backing trips with 9 inner-city teenage girls.

2. Join my college's cross country team for two years in a row.

3. Live in South Africa for a semester.

4. Return to said New Jersey woods for two more summers.

5. Move to the Bronx so that I can work for above mentioned summer camp full time, also for a laughably small amount of money.

6. Continue living in the Bronx even when I had the choice to move somewhere else, and continue working for summer camp for a grand total of 5.5 years (8 total summers at said camp).

7. Get married before the age of 30.

8. Become a Mormon.

9. Buy a Minivan

10. Move across the country with no job and no plan

11. Quite my job to be a stay at home mom.

What have you done that surprised you and/or those you love?

Is he breathing?

I wrote about Cyrus's napping issues a few days ago, but was careful to only hint at his night sleep, because it has been, well, easy. And I am kind of a believer in the ability of one to jinx one's good fortune by talking about it while it is still happening. But I'm going to write about it just a little anyway and hope that the cosmic forces out there don't punish me.

From the beginning, Cy has slept his one long stretch during the night. Now, I use "long" loosely, as it was only three hours in the beginning. But that long stretch has lengthened progressively over the past few months, going from three to four to five hours. Up until two nights ago, his longest stretch ever was 7 hours, and that was the night after he got his vaccinations. He has routinely only slept about 5 to 6 hours at the longest.

On Thursday night, he went to sleep at 7pm, and at 4am Jason woke with a start to ask if I had heard him wake up. I hadn't. We were both suddenly hit with worry. Jason ran into his room to check if he was ok, and at first couldn't feel him breath. So he patted his head. Nothing. He did it again. Still nothing. Finally, Jason kind of jiggled his head, and - ahh releif - he moved. Twenty minutes later he woke up to eat. The next morning, we marvelled that he slept for nine and a half hours, but were sure it was a fluke. But then he did it again last night. And he's working on the same pattern tonight.

We've waited for this moment kind of since he was born. Ahh, to have to wake up only once a night! To get several hours of sleep in a row! Fantastic! And yet, at the risk of sounding like I'm complaining, because I'm really not, I never anticipated the stress that would come from having him essentially sleep through the night. When he wakes up every few hours, you kind of know that things are ok. Although I'm sure it's kind of false, there's a sense of security in that. It's kind of scary to have him sleep so soundly for so long. Just a few minutes ago, I went into his room to check if he was ok, and I too couldn't feel the rise and fall of his stomache. My heart dropped a little, even as I realized that he was probably just fine. I placed my hand in front of his face and sighed again with relief at the warm-cold-warm breath I felt as he breathed ever so softly in and out.

I realize now that the overwhelming fear that something will happen to him will never go away. Add that to the list of things I heard but didn't believe. After Jason and I lost our first pregnancy in the 10th week, we were understandably on edge when we got pregnant with Cy. After a brief scare with him in the 10th week, we saw his heartbeat again, and I remember asking my midwife in a shaky voice to reassure me that seeing the heartbeat at 10 weeks was a good sign. And her response stuck with me. She said: "Yes, that is a good sign. But Amber, that feeling that you're hoping will go away, that worry? It never does. Not even when they're 18." And although I knew she was probably right, I think somewhere in the back of my head I figured that once he was born, I would rest easy. I was wrong. Not only does that worry not go away, it seems to intensify with each passing day. And I'm quite sure that it will grow and stay with me until the day I die. Just a little side affect of loving another human being more than life itself.

Flashback Friday: The Subletter from Hell

All right, I'm not sure what the blogger protocol is for starting a post series and then interrupting it...but I'm going to do it anyway. It is, after all, Friday, and it's time for a Flashback!

The summer after Jason and I got married we both planned to work at the camp I ran in New Jersey, and therefor would be leaving our apartment empty for the summer. Now, I don't know how common the practice is in other parts of the country, but if you're a New Yorker and you plan to vacate your apartment for even a short time, let alone three months, you better believe you're going to try to capitalize on that and sublet it! So, that is what we set out to do. We posted on craigslist and even offered to pay utilities if the potential subletter was willing to keep our cat for the summer and take care of her (we took our dog with us to camp, but couldn't accommodate the cat).

New York is a pretty hot spot for subletters, and although the Bronx is slightly (or more than slightly) less appealing than most of the other boroughs (except Staten Island...no one wants to live there), we did get a fair number of responses. We showed the place to a few people, but it was a pretty long commute to Manhattan, so no one was interested so far. Then we met Kerry*. She was a law student with an internship in upstate New York and so our Bronx apartment was perfect for her. She came to take a look and immediately wanted the place. We were less sure about her. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was just something about her that didn't sit right - she seemed a little awkward in kind of a hostile sort of way. Oh, if only I had heeded my gut instinct. But, it was very close to summer and we desperately needed a subletter, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt and we decided to go ahead and sublet to her. I mean, she was law student, after all, how bad could she be?

Despite our hesitation, our good nature and assumption that others are also of good nature took over, and we didn't even write up a contract. We did ask for a security deposit, equal to one month's rent, and then asked for each of the three month's rent to be paid on the first of the month. We packed up our clothes and some of our more valuable items and left them with a friend, scrubbed the heck out of the apartment, and then left our cat and moved to New Jersey for the summer.

Fast forward to August 15th and we haven't received August's rent yet. I called her and e-mailed her several times, but got no response. By sometime around the 25th of August the kids had left camp, but I was staying for another week to close things up, and I still hadn't heard from her. I feared the worst. I had visions of scenes worthy of Law and Order running through my head, and at the very least I was worried about my cat. So I grabbed a friend and drove the 2 hours back to the city. I remember distinctly sitting in the car outside of my apartment, feeling nervous. What would I find? Would she be alive? Dead? Tied up? What other solution could there be to not getting rent and not hearing back from her? Or would I find my apartment emptied of all of my possessions?

Well, I still had a set of keys, so we went up to the door, knocked several times, and finally entered with my key. I cannot describe the scene before my eyes. I literally pushed the door open against a pile of clothes and shoes and the pile continued all the way down the long hallway to the bedroom. The living room was also a disaster. And then I saw my cat. My poor, street-rescued cat had more than doubled in size! She was so fat her head almost disappeared! Before I walk into the kitchen to further inspect the damage, Kerry popped her head out from the bedroom, clearly only half-dressed. And this was the weird part - she didn't say "Hang on a minute let me put some pants on" or "I'm just in the middle of getting dressed, give me a minute" she just proceeded to have a conversation with me while she poked her torso out of the bedroom. I told her I hadn't received rent and that I had been worried because I hadn't heard from her and all she said was, I sent a check, sorry. I was so taken aback by the state of the apartment and by her oddness, that my only response was "I'm taking the cat and going back to camp." My friend still laughs at that statement. It had a ring similar to "I'm taking my toys and going home!"

I went into the kitchen to grab the cat's food and discovered why my poor animal was so obese - there was container after container of cat food sitting on the counter. It was like an all-you-can-eat buffet, 24/7. Now some cats might know when to say when, but not rescue kitty - oh no, she always ate in survival mode. If it was there, she consumed it just in case it wasn't there the next day. So she had been gorging herself on cat food for who knows how long! Then, we left and drove back to camp.

A week later, on Labor Day, Jason and I returned to our apartment for good at about 8:30pm, not sure what we would find. On first glance, it didn't seem to be too bad. But as we looked closer, we saw just how disgusting this law student was. Oh friends, it was ugly. Let's just say we cleaned for three hours before I felt Ok going to bed, and then spent the entire next day trying to get our apartment back. Words are good, but pictures are better. Below, please observe the grossness...

The Kitchen floor, before we even had a chance to sweep up the rest of the stuff on the floor. (No, that's not a real tomato, it's a timer, but still)

Our bed, with a mysterious, scary stain on my Egyptian Cotton mattress pad. That stain went through the mattress pad, the foam egg crate and the mattress! We threw the top two out and got a new mattress a few months later.

The buildup of cat hair on the area rug in the living room.

Where the cat box usually sat. It looked as though it had not been cleaned out once. Then we picked it up and saw this beneath it. Clearly, the cat litter that went over the edge of the box had not been swept up. It took me over thirty minutes to clean this 2 square feet of tile!

I wish this was all. There was pot ash on the coffee table, strange stains on the wood floor that took off a few layers of finish, she had taken our laundry basket and our bathmat, had gotten bleach on one of towels, left an air conditioning unit on a windowsill and turned it pink with water damage, and had left various sundry clothing items, books and jewelry. And it didn't stop there. We continued to find evidence of her damage and presence long after she left. Part of the deal was that we paid utilities. When we got the electric bill for the month of August, it was $200 more than it had ever been, due to the running of the air conditioning unit 24/7. When we got our cable bill, she had ordered pornos on our TV.

Now for the worst part. Remember that last month's rent that I never received? Well, I never received it...ever. I e-mailed and e-mailed and called. Her number had been discontinued and she never responded to my e-mails. We had her security deposit, but there's no way she would have gotten that back after the damage she left, and we still ended up losing money because of the things we had to replace. She also hadn't returned our keys, which started to freak me out. I finally got kind of urgent in my e-mails regarding the keys. A few days later, the keys showed up in several layers of envelope, with no return address.

Some of my friends and family wanted us to pursue her, try to get her to pay her last month's rent. But honestly, I was just so sick of the whole thing and was so glad to be done with it that I just wanted to close that chapter and forget about her. Annoyingly, we continued to get mail for her for several months, and even found an old package addressed to her when we were packing up to leave, nearly three years later! She just would not be forgotten...

We had all kinds of ideas about what we would do differently the following summer - collecting the whole summer's rent up front, drawing up a contract, having a friend in the city just drop by every now and again, trust our gut instinct, etc. However, Jason ended up getting a job he couldn't and didn't want to leave for the summer, so we never had to deal with that again. Which is good, because I'm not sure I would have had the stomach for it anyway!

* Name has been changed to protect the guilty.

My Cloth Diapering Story: Part 1

*I started out writing this post as a review of the cloth diapers we use, but as I started to write I realized that it might be helpful for someone out there to here about my reasoning and process in choosing cloth diapers.

Before Cyrus was born, Jason and I talked at length about whether to use disposable or cloth diapers. Throwing away all those disposable diapers just didn't sit well with us, not to mention the chemicals that are in most of the resonably-priced disposables. When I was doing research, I had a hard time finding good information on cloth diapering options and costs, so I'm providing my account for anyone else who might be interested.

So initially, we decided to use a diaper service. When we got to Portland, I looked into Tidee Didee, the only diaper service in the Portland area, as far as I could tell. Well, as environmentally concious as I'd like to be, I will admit that my wallet talks first, and the diaper service was going to cost close to $1,000 for one year! Yikes!

However, we were still really committed to using cloth diapers, so I started exploring other options - mainly, buying a stash of cloth diapers and laundering them myself. But I was worried about the extra work load, the mess and the excess water I would have to use to wash them, not to mention to cost of purchasing all those diapers. So, as is my nature, I dove into researching cloth diapers. I stumbled across a mail-order store located here in Portland that specializes in cloth diapers called Babyworks. Their catalog had tons of information and their salespeople were extremely helpful over the phone, spending over 20 minutes answering my questions before I had even decided to purchase from them. Not only that, but their return policy is amazing - 30 day returns, even if you've used and washed the diapers! They figure you can't tell if they work for you unless you try them. Impressive!

I discovered that there are many options - prefolds with covers, all-in ones, pocket diapers, one-size pocket daipers (and I'm sure I'm leaving a few out). As far as I could tell, the big downfalls with most of the diapering systems were 1) you had to buy them in multiple sizes as your child grew, adding cost and 2) you had to soak them in a big pail, which could get messy.

Enter the one-size pocket diaper. The idea is that the diapers are adjustable through a system of elastic and buttons or velcro and snaps, depending on the brand, and can therefore be used for babies 7lbs to 35 lbs - basically the whole diapering life of an average sized child. This means buying one set to get you through 2+ years of diapering! There are two brands of one size pocket diapers - Fuzzibunz and Bum Genius. Bum Genius uses velcro and snaps, while Fuzzibunz uses elastic and buttons to adjust the size. The Fuzzibunz product is slightly newer on the market.

Well, after some careful math, I realized that purchasing 24 pocket one-size diapers would be cheaper than buying the varying sizes of any of the other diapering systems. After additional research, I decided on the Fuzzibunz over the Bum Genius because it seemed that the Velcro closures on the Bum Genius would likely wear out faster than the snap closures on the Fuzzibunz.

My other issue was the mess. Babyworks recommended a toilet sprayer, a handy little sprayer that attaches to the back of your toilet, allowing you to clean off your dirty diapers before putting them in the hamper without getting your hands dirty. (Let me just add here that the thing works like a power-washer! Even when we've left poopy diapers until the end of the day, they spray off almost completely clean.) And, Fuzzibunz doesn't want you to soak the diapers in a pail, so there went that issue!

Once we had decided to go with cloth diapers, I realized that we would need some other supplies as well. We decided to use reusable wipes (basically just really plush washclothes) instead of disposable wipes, mainly because of cost, so we bought 32 of them. We also bought the diaper sprayer, some flushable diaper liners for when we're out and about, a "dirty duds bag" for the same reason, a washable diaper hamper, and a bottle of diaper detergent that will last us at least 2 years. Now, are you ready for the total cost of all of these supplies, including the 24 diapers?

We spent just under $600 for all of our diapering supplies, which will likely last us until Cy is out of diapers. Now, compared to the $1,000 a year for a diaper service, which doesn't even include some of the things we would have bought anyway, that's at least a $1,400 savings - more if he's in diapers for longer! And, there is a good chance that we can reuse the diapers and some of the other supplies with subsequent children. This might sound good in theory, but does it all work in reality? In Part 2 I'll give you my review of Fuzzibunz diapers and the whole cloth diapering process, as it's gone so far.

Who's your daddy? (or mommy)

When Cy was first born, pretty much everyone commented on how much he looked like Jason or a member of Jason's family. Now as he's growing and changing, I'm trying to see if it looks like I had anything to do with him. Check out the picture comparisons below. Who do you think Cyrus most resembles?

In the top picture are Jason and his twin brother Brian. Jason is on the left (denoted by the penned in J). Below is Cyrus is the same shirt. Check out those profiles!

In the top picture is me at around 6 months. In the bottom picture is Cyrus at around 2.5 months. Well, we at least seem to share some temperament...

Ahh, here we go. Now we see the similarities! Check out those pouts! I guess he did get a little something from me after all!

The thing that makes me feel like a bad parent

I can't figure out naps. Not my own - I've had those down for years - but Cyrus's. I want to be careful how loudly I complain about this because so far nighttime sleep has been managable and I don't want some cosmic force out there to show me just how bad it could be by taking away my blissfully easy evenings.

That being said, I spend the better part of my day trying to a) figure out if Cyrus is tired, b) find that "magic time" when he supposedly will go down without crying, and then when I miss it (which I do almost all the time), c) try to get him to go to sleep.

Some people may argue that if he's not sleeping during the day then he must not be tired. But the thing is, when he gets enough sleep, he is a nearly perfect baby. He rarely cries, he smiles happily, he is a joy to be around. However, when he doesn't get enough sleep he spends most of his day fussing and has very little happy time.

Cyrus at about 4 weeks...back when naps were easy!

The worst part is that everything keeps changing! Again, I don't want to complain too loudly, because I do realize just how much worse this could be, but he has had stretches of two weeks or so at a time where naps are almost seemless. That's how I know what he can be like. But a little switch goes off every two weeks or so and I find myself in a day like today. He refused to nap for more than 45 minutes at a time, and all but once woke up screaming. When I nursed and rocked him into an almost sleep state and then put him in his crib, he began screaming again, as if he knew what was coming and just wasn't having any of it. But because I know he needs sleep, and he won't sleep in my arms anymore, I have to leave him in his crib to cry. (This is the part where I feel like a terrible parent). He eventually falls asleep after fussing, crying and cooing off and on for 20 minutes or so, only to wake up 40 minutes later, whereby I watch the clock and him, trying again to pinpoint that supposed magic time, and then start the whole process all over again!

Part of my problem is that I am just so darned concerned about doing it right. And although I logically know that it is unlikely, I keep fearing that I will mess him up forever. Now if the cycle repeats itself, he should be back to napping well again in a week or so...but what if that doesn't happen? I realize that I am exposing my naivety as a parent, but I keep worrying that this current state will last forever and that I'll go bonkers.

And yet what I keep coming back to is why will he go to sleep so easily at night (universe, please don't shoot me down for this), but refuse to take naps? And, why will he take naps for a while and then stop? Does anyone have any answers for this? I welcome any and all suggestions!