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Goodbye

ETA: Early

The first boy was 10 days early. Looks like boy #2 is right on the same schedule and just as stubborn as his brother.

A Weapon By Any Other Name

any instrument or device for use in combat

My brother revealed to me today that he took a trip to a firing range recently and got an incredible rush from firing a loaded gun.
I took the news in stride, kind of shrugging it off as a barely interesting piece of information.
Then he mentioned that he might continue on with it and get a licence for his own gun.

To be kept in his own home.

"You will never, ever babysit my children in your home if there is a gun inside," I said.
He told me that it would be securely locked in a case, if he gets one.
Doesn't matter, said I.
I've got strong views on a lot of sensitive topics like religion and politics; particular topics that I know to bite my tongue on to avoid heated discussions that can end friendships.
But guns are not a discussion point that I am willing to roll over on.
Missy feels the same way, only more so. She refuses to let the boy play with toy guns. If it's up to her, there will never be any video games in our home with guns involved. There won't be action figures with toy guns, water guns or anything of the kind that has a trigger and shoots someone else.
I don't feel that strongly about toy guns, but real guns scare the hell out of me. I don't understand why he can't keep the gun at the firing range. Surely they have some kind of a setup that can allow for it. Or why can't he go play paintball, or get a super-realistic video game that allows one to blow someone's head off at close or far range?
I realize that banning guns is not the solution. There are always going to be people who don't adhere to laws but keeping tools that are designed to kill people in your home is also not helping.
I was trying to figure out if my reaction would have been different if I were child-less. It probably would have been.
Most of my reason for being nowadays consists of making sure that the adorable little munchkin in my care makes it safely and healthily into adulthood. I make sure not to drive like a maniac when he's in the backseat of my car. If he's playing near a river, I make sure that I'm always at his side in case he falls in. I make sure that the knives in my kitchen are off-limits; that the door to my balcony is always locked and that the drugs in my bathroom are out of reach.
In general, I keep him as distanced and padded from the things that can hurt him, as I possibly can.

Rock n Roll

I hate polyester. It's cheap, it's ugly, and it's uncomfortable.
I was in a decent store lately - not the massive save-a-centres known for cheap products and couldn't believe that the majority of clothes they sold were a polyester blend.
I understand that everyone is looking to save money here and there and to find clothes that look good and don't cost a fortune but when I find that shops are selling clothes made out of a polyester blend, I choose not to buy clothes from that shop any longer.
Do people willingly buy that fabric or are they just like me and sometimes aren't always vigilant in checking the the label?
If it's the latter, it's time for us to wisen up, because the businesses are taking advantage of our laziness.

* * *

I think that deciding to have a child is a form of madness. It's often one's way of combatting thanatophobia but it's also very much like signing up to test out some experimental drug. The people familiar with it will tell you all about the wonders and beautiful experiences you'll have as a result of going forward with it but there's also the side effects you have to take into account as well.
Erratic and limited sleep patterns; being up at three in the morning with a screaming babe wondering why you decided to torture yourself like this; trying to convince yourself that the cutesy smiles and the adorable miniature hand in yours is worth 20+ years of selfless hardship.
It is of course worth it. I get to oversee the extension of my genetic makeup, laugh at a crazy little midget who does strange and funny things for no good reason and I get the best reason of all for finding the willpower to endure all the crap that this world throws my way.
Multiplying all of the above by two will be interesting.

Infrequent Update

We're about six weeks away from expanding our household again. Missy is massive - just her belly. She gets asked several times a day if she's having twins. The doc wants to do another ultrasound because she's concerned it's getting too big.
And although she's always exhausted, she's nesting too. Cleaning and re-arranging - even though I've now taken over most of the household duties.
I feel antsy and nervous myself. I was looking out my window at the dark rainy street in the middle of the night and felt this overwhelming desire to get in my car and drive to the horizon, and perhaps further.
H1N1 is starting to blow up here again and people are starting to panic. I'm in this middle ground on it, fearful for my children but wondering if it's just another media-fuelled attempt to cry wolf. I have always been wary of the news media but it's gotten a lot worse in recent years. Sensationalism is back, or certain media groups will play their political stripes too close to their chest, trying to one-handedly bring down governments of political parties via deep dirt-digging and non-stop Freedom of Information requests. The motives become very transparent over time.
Un-biased journalism? There is no such thing.
I have been rigorously exercising these last few months. I'm not sure why. I was tired of walking up stairs and being out of breath. I was sick of having a belly that threatened to fall over my waistband. I actually have biceps now, which have been non-existent since I was 19. Perhaps this is my mid-life crisis: the desire to fight my body's aging process.
Work is nuts. Such is the political environment I work in these days. My colleagues in similar jobs openly admit to hitting up liquor stores on their way home from work. It's not a healthy place but I do believe that it's only as bad as you let it be.
I guess I'm just geting better at coping. More patient, more organized, more planning.
I don't know that it equates to being happier. Perhaps a bit. My son brings me great joy but part of that is keeping things in perspective.

TB

It looks like my second child will be named after my favourite author. I love, love, love it. The four of us will have first names with four syllables. I adore little touches like that.
Will make for an odd tattoo on my right arm in some people's minds, but I'm okay with it.

A Quick Update

Missy has been back to work full-time for the last several months. The boy is in daycare/pre-school, which he loves.
I didn't think that things could get more hectic than they already are.
Our relationship is suffering. A friend pointed out my obvious apathy for the state of things.
And it's not that I don't care, but we knew and agreed going into this that our "us" time would be severely limited.
I have devoted eight years to my current career and I have been rewarded for my hard work. I get precious little time with my growing-up-too-fast son. There are also other things that I need to do for me that unfortunately come before the needs of my marriage.
We love each other, but there is no us right now, apart from sleeping in the same bed and maybe a quiet hour together once a week or so.
My only concern is that in a couple years we'll be adding the needs of another toddler to our lives and hopefully another career as well.
I have no idea how we're going to juggle it all and still have time for us.