Our Winter Wonderland

The snow and ice storms hitting the U.S. in the last few weeks have made the news worldwide. Of the six years that I have lived in Minnesota, this year has been the earliest that we have been hit with the snow and cold. It seems especially cold when you have a little baby to get bundled up! I never thought putting mittens on a little one could be so difficult. They ought to make that an American Gladiator or Survivor challenge. Forget this eating worms or knocking people off platforms with a foamed oar. This is the true test of survival in a harsh environment!

As you may have guess, I'm not a fan of winter. This time of year I often ask the Clever King just why we live in Minnesota. I then spend a lot of time explaining to him how, yes, there is snow and cold in Wisconsin, but it is DEFINITELY not as snowy and cold as it is HERE in southern Canada. This time of year, lots of other folks ask the Clever King why HE lives in Minnesota when he is from the island paradise of New Zealand, where it is rarely below 50 degrees (although furnaces are also rare there). He spends a lot of time explaining to them the merits of the States. We've collectively spent a lot of time the last few weeks shoveling the sidewalk so the wheelchair man can get through to church*, digging out cars, commuting home from work, and hunting down the last of the fresh apple cider in the local supermarkets.

Fresh apple cider may be the best part of late fall. CK has perfected the art of heating it in the microwave so it is just hot enough to burn your throat a little bit, but not hot enough to burn your mittenless hands off. One of our favorite mugs (meant for coffee but used for cider by us) has an excerpt from Garrison Keillor on it. It was given to us by an Australian friend one summer when he and his girlfriend (now wife) stayed with us. CK and I each clamor for this mug in the winter months because, when we are feeling sorry for ourselves, it reminds us of the expectations of being a Minnesotan in the winter. Here's what Garrison has to say:

"Growing up in a place that has winter you learn to avoid self-pity. Winter is not a personal experience, everybody else is as cold as you, so you shouldn't complain about it too much. You learn this as a kid, coming home crying from the cold, and Mother looks down and says, 'It's only a little frostbite. You're okay.' And thus you learn to be okay. What's done is done. Get over it. Drink your coffee. It's not the best you'll ever get but it's good enough."

Yes, Jack's first Minnesota winter has definitely arrived with a bang. On those few occasions that he has been out in the cold for the 15 seconds it takes to transport him from the house to the car and the wind hits his face, he takes a sharp little breath and looks at us as if to say, "Good God, people! What have you done with that warm cozy place where I spent nine months?" We tell him he's been fortunate to spend the first days of winter at home with Daddy, surrounded by radiators pumping out heat and soft, snuggly blankets wrapped around his little body. Soon enough, he will have to brave the cold each day to get off to daycare. With a Wisconsin mom and a Kiwi daddy, we'll have to see if he is tough enough for survival in the land of 10,000 (frozen) lakes. I'm betting he can make it.

*This stems from the times when we first moved into our house and we had disagreements about exactly how frequently and well the sidewalk needed to be shoveled. Nick often felt that it was "good enough" and I would respond that if he wanted to be the house in the neighborhood who had the sidewalk that kept the wheelchair man from getting to the church on the corner, that was fine with me. The (hypothetical) wheelchair man usually won.

It Takes a Little Time

Well, I am officially back to work. I returned on Thursday, November 29th, so, as of today, I have spent 8 days as a working mother. I had been doing a little bit of work from home part-time, but that didn't really count, as it didn't take me away from Jack and didn't require that I get up, get dressed, and be ready for business by a certain time of day. And it's a bit trickier than I would have thought.

The last month that I was at home taking care of Jack, there was a sort of calculus I completed to figure out what I was going to get done that day. For example, taking a shower meant that I might not be able to get an hour or work done. Surfing the web and blogging meant that the laundry might not get put away and my contacts wouldn't get put in. It's amazing how quickly I learned to assess the tasks for the day and prioritize. Apparently, this type of thinking is a common phenomenon, as one of my favorite bloggers, dooce, used to measure how well the day was going with her and her little baby by how many tasks of personal hygiene she accomplished. Another friend of mine whose children are older now said that she never has gotten more done than when she had a baby in the house because she was always trying to hurry up and get everything done before the baby woke up. So true.

Being back at work is a whole new type of math because there are so many additional tasks associated with it. It makes my old "calculus" seem like using an abacus. Not only does work require a shower and presentable clothing (read: no J-Lo velour jumpsuit), but I must pack my lunch, my work bag, my breast pump, bottles to pump into, and a cooler for milk storage. I have to get up in the morning by 6:45am at the latest, whether I have been up one or three times in the night with Jack. Once I arrive at work, I have to figure out how to balance meetings, catching up with colleagues, and getting regular work done with the need to pump frequently so that my baby has enough milk for the next day. I have to decide if I am going to use lunch to hang out with friends or run errands so I can come home earlier to my baby, who I miss desperately by 2pm or so. When I get home from work, I have a couple of hours to spend with the little man before he goes to sleep and then I decide if I will do laundry, pay bills, run to the store, or simply snuggle my husband and cat. I can't explain it in a way that doesn't sound a bit pathetic and "woe is me," even though that is not my intention. It's just adjusting to life in a different gear than it was B.J. (before Jack). You parents out there know exactly what I am talking about.

Some days it goes well. And some days, when anything unexpected comes up (like 4 inches of snow during a weekday or a car that won't start), it is very hard. I'm really glad that Nick is home with Jack right now because it gives me an opportunity to get used to the work routine without having to factor in adjustment to daycare. The boys are really enjoying their time together and Nick has figured out a good nap schedule for Jack, something I couldn't ever do.

When I was feeling a bit low the other day and lamenting to Nick about if things would ever get easier, he told me that getting used to our "new" life with Jack is like learning to play The Sims. At first, it seems impossible just figuring out how to get your character to eat, sleep, use the toilet, and not stink so bad that the neighbors don't want to speak to you. After a little while, that is a piece of cake, and you begin to socialize your Sim with the neighbors and have a little fun. A bit later, you are able to find your Sim a job, a girlfriend, and time to throw a party big enough to attract Drew Carey. I think this is a good analogy - particularly because I love The Sims and became quite good at it back in the day (after many, MANY, hours of play).

A friend at work today was listening to me talk about the adjustment and commented that just when you think you have it all figured out with the baby, it all changes. I guess that means the key is learning to expect the unexpected. And also not expecting to master a game that I haven't practiced a lot yet. I know many others have done it before me and that, and just looking at the handsome devil below, make being a working mother, wife, and oh yeah, basic human, a bit easier each day.