social obligations?

I'd really like to hear some opinions on this one...

We've been invited to an "open house" (i.e. drop-in style party) this weekend for the engagement of a family friend whom we don't see very often. In fact, I haven't seen him since my brother's wedding last year, and before that... well, it was a long time. But anyhow, we've been invited, and he doesn't have a large extended family, and his mother feels that we're the "closest thing to family" they have. My parents are, of course, going.

When my mom asked whether we'd be there, I answered, "no". True to form, she asked my why. I explained that I don't have a really great reason, just that I don't feel like going, it's not conveniently located, we've had a lot of social engagements recently (and we have two others that weekend, neither in direct conflict), and that Mr. December has been working late and hasn't had the time to be at home with us and it would be nice to just have some family time together.

My mom acted like this was a really unsatisfactory answer.

So my question - my musing - tonight is about whether one is actually "obligated" to attend social functions to which they are invited unless they are otherwise occupied (i.e. with an officially scheduled event). Do I need a reason to send my regrets over an invitation? Is it not my perogative to decide that I'm just not in the mood to drive 30 minutes each way just to be smiley and social at an event that will be no fun for Kali and no fun for my husband (and probably not much fun for me)? Can't I just randomly decide not to accept an invitation?

According to how I was raised, no, I can't. I need to attend the event unless I have a *good* reason not to. But that could just be my family's silly rule... so I need to hear from my readers. What do you think?

To be fair...

... I asked Mr. December to talk to MIL about the swim diaper incident, especially since it indirectly resulted in Kali ripping her natural-latex mattress to shreds while the dirty sheets were in the wash. He briefly mentioned to her that she had put Kali in a swim diaper instead of a normal one. End of conversation.

But that WASN'T THE POINT!

So I mentioned it to my FIL and pointed out that Kali's bed was completely wet and had to be stripped and so forth, and that she ended up sneaking into her room and ruining the mattress while its protective cover was off.

MIL called the next day.

She apologized profusely, offered to buy us a new mattress, and apologized again while emphasizing that she wants to be a "force for good" and not cause problems. I thanked her for her concern, apologized for not having re-stocked the diaper drawer before I left, and suggested that next time she just call my cellphone and ask what to do if she found herself without the proper supplies. She acknowledged that as "probably a good idea".

So here's to open communication and to not "protecting" the grandparents. If they don't know there's a problem, they can't fix it. And I tip my hat to MIL for her immediate and gracious response.

Scenes with the in-laws

Well, I'm heavily pregnant and hormonal, and mothers' day has just passed, which means it must be time to gripe about the in-laws. (Really, I know that my joy in doing this is one of my major spiritual failures. I conquered envy this year, next year I'll work on the in-law thing.) Rather than editorialize, I'm just going to give you the actual scripts. Enjoy... in that schadenfreudische way that blog readers do...



MIL: You don't use a wipe every time you change her diaper, do you?
Decemberbaby: Yes, we do.
MIL: I mean, I'll wipe if there's poo, but otherwise, do you really need to?
December: Would you wipe yourself if you'd been sitting in pee for a couple of hours?
MIL: I guess so...

__________________


December: Um, Kali woke up soaking wet this morning. Why did you put her to sleep in a swim diaper?
MIL: I didn't see any other diapers where you usually have them.
December: Well, there was a bag of new diapers on the floor next to the change table, and there's a basket of cloth diapers there too.
MIL: I didn't think you were using the cloth ones anymore.
December: They're a lot more absorbent than swim diapers. Swim diapers actually only hold solid waste. Did you know that?
MIL: well, there weren't any other diapers.
December: *facepalm* Okay, next time just call my cellphone if you can't find something.

__________________


December: The carseat looks a little off kilter. Did you guys re-install it?
MIL: No, we don't even know how.
December: (lifting the carseat up off the seat and moving it around) Well, it's not connected to the car except by the top tether. In a collision she'd probably just fly up and hit the ceiling with the weight of the carseat behind her.
MIL: Who would disconnect it?
December: It was installed with the seatbelt... probably one of your passengers disconnected it by accident while trying to undo their own seatbelt.
MIL: I don't remember having any passengers recently...
December: did it look or feel off centre when you put Kali in this morning?
MIL: You know, I didn't look.

Mamma Mia!

Now, it could be the music, or the fact that the entire set and most of the costumes were in my favourite colour scheme, or the half-naked singing and dancing Colin Firth. It could be any of those things... but why split hairs? I've just finished watching Mamma Mia (the movie), and I feel marginally less awful.

I'm on self-imposed bedrest today. Given the fact that I have a babysitter here til Kali's bedtime it just seems wise. I hope to be well enough tomorrow that I can actually take care of Kali all day instead of having to pawn her off on the grandparents like I did all weekend. I miss my little girl.

I'd like to know...

Why does pregnancy = crap immune system?

I'm sick again. blah. It hurts to swallow, I get short of breath taking a shower, and my head feels like it's stuffed with cotton. All this on the most beautiful weekend this year. I hate it.

Thank god for parents. Mr. December's parents have Kali right now, and my parents are poised to take over in a couple of hours. I do not have the energy to enforce any of the following rules:

1. We do not pull all the drawing paper off the roll and use it to make a bed.

2. You may not throw the pewter candlesticks onto the hardwood floor because you're done playing with them.

3. While it is wonderful that you want to "play shabbat", you may not climb onto the kitchen counter in search of the wine. Imaginary shabbat, imaginary wine. Deal with it.

4. If you have to climb all over mummy's belly and boobs to get to the most coveted corner of the couch, you should infer that said corner is unavailable.

5. Your cuteness will not save you from having to wear a diaper. Only potty-training can.


Gee, I'm tired just typing all that. Please excuse me while I recline listlessly on the couch.

Spring is busting out all over...

I'd love to include pics, but I'm sick (another cold? seriously? hello, immune system?) and also lazy, so no photos for you.

So excited were we by the fresh tomatoes and carrots we ate all last summer that we've expanded our plans for this year's vegetable patch.

As we speak, the potatoes are growing, the peas have sprouted, and I'm keeping a watchful eye on the carrots. The carrots are an "early" variety, but I sowed them two weeks ago and so far, out of 155 possible sprouts, I have one. Not sure whether something's gone horribly wrong or I'm just impatient... but we really, really love carrots straight from the ground. Who wouldn't?

Thoughts on homebirth

Folks, I'm tired of apologizing every time I post here after a long break. Suffice it to say, I'm often mentally or physically too exhausted to put my thoughts into words. From now on, I'll just post as I can, without all the apologetic preamble.

We attended a seminar on homebirth this week. Mr. December and I had already done most of the research, so the only thing that was new to us was seeing all the equipment that the midwives bring with them. I had already decided before this week that we're planning on having a homebirth. Mr. December is supportive, but open about the fact that it wouldn't be his choice.

I'm not sure why people keep saying that I'm "brave" to try a homebirth. Frankly, there is an element of fear driving my decision: fear that I won't be listened to by hospital staff I've never met before; fear of being pushed into unnecessary interventions "just in case"; fear of winding up with a c-section for "failure to deliver within hospital timelines" or some other stupid reason, AKA winding up with an "unnecessarean".

I know that many of those fears are based on things I've heard from friends in other places, most notably the U.S. But fears are fears, and they're not entirely bogus.

I'm also choosing homebirth to be able to move, eat, scream, shout, and generally do whatever I feel the need to do to get this baby out. During Kali's birth, I felt pressured by the nurses to be quieter, out of consideration for the other women. Consideration is a great idea, I'm all for it, but at that moment I needed to vocalize. Loudly. Also, the l&d room I was in was smaller than an average dorm room from the 1970's. There was really nowhere to move around except in the hallway. And it stank of pee and disinfectant, as hospitals usually do.

When I was admitted to my delivery room at Kali's birth, the nurse started asking me all kinds of questions I had already answered either on a form or in my doctor's office (hence it would be in my chart). Having to listen to this litany of questions while trying to deal with very heavy labour was just really unfair. Why do we do pre-admission paperwork if they're just going to break our concentration to do it again when we arrive in full-blown labour?

In choosing a homebirth, I know that I'll be cared for by midwives who know me (and already know all the answers to those stupid questions), allowed to take my time birthing (as long as both the baby and I are in good shape, obviously), and given the space and freedom to do what I need to do. Really, NOT having those things would take a level of bravery that I don't have.

Besides, I'm dreaming of how nice it will be to be helped to shower after the birth, and then be tucked into bed with my new baby and some healthy snacks, and to be monitored when I am awake and ready instead of being disturbed by a nurse who wants to come take my vitals at HER convenience even if it means disturbing my rare and precious sleep.

Any questions?

Scenes from the playground

Kali is climbing an s-shaped ladder up to a platform 6 feet in the air. Decemberbaby is about 20 feet away, talking to another mom, when she notices what Kali's up to.

Decemberbaby: Wow! Look what she's doing!
Other mom: Oh my God, I can't look.
Decemberbaby: I have to look. I might need to describe this at the emergency room later.



Incidentally, she did it all by herself. Kali is a surefooted little girl. Sure, her feet slipped once, but after a tiny whimper she pulled herself up and kept going. Hooray for my free-range kid!

Date night!

Well, Kali is still sick, but we have a prescription for antibiotics, so hopefully this will be the end of it.

She's in a big-girl bed now. The first few nights were an adventure in returning her to her bed every ten minutes. Then, inspired by Suz, I started taking away one of her stuffed toys every time she escaped the bed. When the first sheep was confiscated she cried bitterly - sobbed, really. And that was all it took. These days, if I hear her starting to tiptoe, I loudly tell Mr. December, "I need to go check on Kali. I hope she's not out of bed, I'd hate to take away her toys!" Every single time, she jumps back into bed and does a credible job of faking sleep. I'm so proud.

And tonight is date night! We're taking our chances on a comedy club, after having ruled out two plays and the symphony. Why, oh why is culture so expensive? Is it a self-perpetuating cycle where it's too expensive so nobody goes, and then since attendance is down they raise ticket prices? What a shame. I would have liked to see Colin Mochrie perform at Canstage tonight. Alas, we weren't in the mood to spend $150 and not even eat anything.

So hopefully I'll be laughing hard enough to pee my pants (a likely outcome, given that Cletus is kicking me in the bladder these days), and avoiding yet another evening saying, "we should really get out sometime."

it's company policy to give you the plague...

Ugh.

I just realized that my last update was three weeks ago, at which time Kali was sick.

Guess what? She's sick... still or again, it's hard to tell. This time she's taken me down with her. Can't talk without coughing and stuffed up beyond stuffy. What I wouldn't give for some ColdFX or Nyquil now.

Cletus the Fetus is fine... feels like he's perfecting his drumming solos during the long nights when mummy is trying to sleep. At least someone in this house has some energy.

I have nothing witty to say here. It's four in the morning and I need to get back to bed.

Coming soon: adventures with the "big-girl bed"