Time

It was a gorgeous day today. I tried to close my eyes for a moment & just feel the sun on my face & feel that cool autumn air as I pushed the girls along through the cemetary. We had a good hard laugh on the swings. It's so easy to be frustrated with these wee ones, when really so much of our time together is such a huge gift. Olive tried to say "love" last night. Etta calls Olive "Ah-ah".

I'm having a hard time just being in the moment these days. I feel like I have so incredibly little time to myself that even when things are lovely my mind is racing on to the list of things that needs to be done or the many things I can fret over. It is a challenging time. It is busy. There are big life decisions to be made, but sometimes I feel like we are forgetting that the life we have now is it. This is the future. I don't know. It's tough.

Other things:

Joined ravelry. One more online addiction. Uh-oh.

Love this idea for a tradition. I'd like to start some things around here for our family. This Christmas/Solstice will be my first chance to begin some things.

Saw Across the Universe. It was fabulous. The music, the writing, the acting, the cinematography. I cried. It was lovely, lovely, lovely. Loved it. And Doug & I got to see it together. Extra lovely.

Finished a scarf for myself. And a baby sweater. I'll try to upload photos soon. This computer takes one million years to upload photos. And I don't have that kind of time.

Pretty

Overheard at the playground today, "Finn, don't do that, girls don't like to play like that!" (He was tugging on a girl & running around).

Said (by someone other than me) to Olive yesterday, "Don't you look pretty?"

Olive is routinely assumed to be a boy because she isn't always dressed in a) flowers or b) pink.

Who decides how girls like to play? Why can't it be how individuals like to play? Why are girls who are physical, who enjoy a little rough-housing, referred to as tom-boys? Why do we continue to steal our daughter's power like that? It makes me crazy. I felt like calling out the mums in the playground today, pointing out their inherent sexism, but decided that my energy would probably be met with nothing but animosity. It bothers me everytime someone uses the term "pretty". Pretty. Pretty = docile, powerless, pleasant & god forbid, ladylike. My blood is boiling. When will we embrace women as women, however they may choose to present themselves? Feminine is whatever I as a woman choose. And if you want to get technical, there would be nothing more feminine than a woman with hairy armpits & legs, because it grows there naturally.

Must go & nurse my daughter. My fantastically individual daughter.

Finished

Some recently finished objects - a lovely cashmere baby scrum helmet knit extra big in popsicle from handmaiden & an embellished black hoodie (Olive picked out the psychedelic kitty herself from an excellent local shop that closed :( ). I made the dark wool hat a few years ago for my niece, who has since regifted it back to my lassie. Who wants to read a book right now, so off I go.

Gobble that baby up

Olive started singing this week. We are routinely being reminded to bust out a little Baby Beluga ("Bay-bee! Bay-bee!") or The More We Get Together (with signs). It is sweetness personified. A growth spurt hit, causing her hair to grow so long that she now needs wee barrettes to hold her bangs out of her eyes. She is giving us huge hugs just as she falls asleep at night. She often wakes up in the morning exclaiming her need for a "booh! booh!" (book! book!) or "Dada?". She is beginning to respond to questions with eyebrow waggling & shifty eyes. She makes us laugh all of the time. She clings to my knees from behind if I try to cook or do the dishes. Her word for water is "ga". Everytime I hold her on my lap she asks for milk. She is rapidly turning into a little girl & I'm going to relish this wee bit of baby left, because I know that it won't be long before it is gone & she'll no longer want to be cuddled for hours on end. I want to gobble her up & keep her close to me forever.

I! Can't! Believe! It!

Olive has been asleep for more than 2 hours! I made a pie! I'm almost finished her autumn sweater! I'm listening to a Craftsanity interview with my favourite blogger!

And we're having a clothes-swap on the picket line tomorrow!

And the sun is out!

Woo freaking hoo!

Injustice

Oh, these days there is much need for long walks & for singing "Baby Beluga" with Olive. We went for a 4 hour hike in the woods yesterday & it was a balm for my soul.

We have been on strike for 78 days. Our primary issues are around pay equity & rights for our part-time & auxilliary workers (who represent half of our workforce). Pay equity is a human right. We, as a primarily female workforce, are asking our employer to join with us in evaluating our jobs using a gender neutral model to establish if we are indeed earning less than equivalent jobs in male dominant workforces. Hmmm, in Ontario they have pay equity legislation & the librarians at Toronto Public Library make $7 an hour more than we do. B.C. is one of only two provinces to not have pay equity legislation. We went to a mediator last week, a man, who indicated that he was very supportive of our cause. His job was to return a set of recommendations that reflected a fair balance of the desires of our employer & the workers. Then the recommendations came back & we were all slapped in the face by the incredible injustice of them. He made every effort to accomodate the employer & to split the workforce. He claims to have given us pay equity by giving the upper 40% of the workers an increase of one pay grade. I suppose that he expected us to turn on each other, to only care about ourselves. I feel surrounded by bastards. This city only cares about people with money, about making money, about spending money on completely ridiculous events like the Olympics. Why would they want to pay their workforce, who provide invaluable public services, fairly? Why would they give two hoots about affordable housing?

Thanks be for my sisters & brothers. When our bargaining committee recommended rejecting the mediators recommendations we cheered, hollered & cried. We banded together to say, "No, you greedy bastards, we will support each other until we receive a fair deal". We have to fight this, like we have to fight so much of what is wrong in this greedy, dirty, dead-end world. How else can I raise Olive? I have to believe that we can fight this, that we can become sustainable, inclusive, caring.

Naomi Klein came to the line on Friday, but I missed it due to a wee sleeping babe. Here it is. Can't wait to read the book.

Hold on sisters & brothers. Hold on. I'm with you.

Feeling like it's all too much

I just feel like crying today. I am feeling overwhelmed. I got cranky with the girls this morning - I find it really challenging to find a balance these days. I'm taking care of the two babes 3 days a week, picketing 20 hours a week, leaving only 1 day that doesn't involve 2 babies or walking around in the rain with a picket sign on. Olive has a cold (the 2nd this month) & is getting her bottom molars. She wants to nurse all night & my nipples hurt because she has to pop off to breathe, then latch back on & if I try to roll away to sleep she cries. Big D has been sick for 2.5 weeks & he hates his job(s). The house is a pigsty all of the time because it is too small & I can't get anything done when both girls are here because they want/need almost constant attention & watching. Someone is always crying or wanting a book read. I want to play but then I look around at the mess. My kitchen floor is caked with food. The bathroom is filthy. The laundry is half done. We are out of milk & cream. Olive has a yeast diaper rash that I refuse to treat with chemicals. I say 'no' a million times a day (no coming in the bathroom when I'm scrubbing a poopy diaper in the toilet, no tearing the books off of the grown-up bookshelf, no touching the diaper pail). I feel totally disrespected by my employer. I get almost no time to myself. Olive & Etta hardly nap. There are no breaks. And when there are the last thing that I want to do is clean up. I am exhausted. I spend no real time with my husband. I sit on the couch eating chocolate, watching TV & knitting when I get that precious hour or two to myself at the end of the day. I don't know how to make things easier. Should I hire a maid? With what, my strike pay????????? We live in a temporary house. Should we move? Should we mortgage ourselves up to our eyeballs to buy a tiny apartment?

Sigh. And I read other people's blogs & I think, how can their lives be so perfect? How do they do it? Nourish their kids & themselves & their relationships, keep the house clean, make money, be creative, write their blogs?

I am going to yoga tonight. That's what cans of soup are for.