Bye-bye, Birdie.

Spoke too soon.  Saw the bird, but then yesterday saw the nest had fallen -- too much wind?  An attack from the magpies... abandoned because of too much (of our) attention?

I picked up the nest and put it back.  No eggs inside or around on the ground.  I tell James the bird might come back if we leave it alone. 

Back in my head I flash back to that day I managed to catch a baby-ish robin.  I was maybe seven?  It's leg had been tangled in some monkshood flower stalks and it didn't seem able to fly.  I was so excited I brought it inside the house.  Mom and Dad were not happy about it, but gave me a shoe box to put it in. 

At some point later in the day they convinced me it needed its parents and that we should set it free.  My dad gently tossed the bird into the crook of a tree branch before I headed off to school.  When I got home I didn't see the bird there and asked about it.  Was I crying?  Dad said he saw a mommy and daddy bird come pick it up and wing-in-wing they flew away.  I think it comforted me.  Though  I realise now of course how crazy a sight that would be.  The bird likely didn't make it. 

James calls every robin his pet "Cushion" -- and strangely refers to their colouring as "yellow".  This makes me think about Chinese royal robes: yellows and oranges were considered part of the "brown" family of colours.  Maybe not so strange after all.  I wonder if other cultures combine those together too...

Knock on Wood / I'm the Fool

Those dead branches on the Mountain Ash are doing some good: they're attracting more wildlife.

Today: "Dit-dit-didi-dit-dit..."

Followed by massive giggles for the bird that hits his head against the tree (AKA: Woodpecker, Downy?), and the Mama who tries to imitate the sound (though sounding more like Morse code).

Paul was momentarily fooled today by the announcement of the UTP (Toronto and Texas) merger.

Not so much fun for me.  Year End sucks the potential April Fools fun out of everything.  Olivia did try a morning opening gambit, declaring to me and Lorena, "There's no work to do today."  (May have been more effective if it was Lorena who said it to us, if cruel :P).  Though, it's probably best not to playing jokes at work. 

But, I guess I am still the fool: I believed James when said he would be "good" if I let him walk home...  And that that slide was would be the last slide...

And that he wouldn't stick something else from the ground into this mouth.  Ew. 

(I finally did strap him back in.) 

Last Days in March

A woodpecker visited the feeder.

James had bright-eyed moments (and another smile?).

He grabbed for Daddy's nose... and eye(brow)s.

The yellow orchid is primed to bloom.   

House Hippo watched over James.

Nuthatch, Nuthatch, Nuthatch(es), Woodpecker!

(This one's a female... downy?)

Dining Nuthatches and Posing Tiger

Red Spot (Male Woodpecker)

Hairy or Downy?

Outside! Free... Fear.

I'm so not supposed to be outside.  (That's likely part of the thrill.)

But, I justify my outing: I need to get some to get some things printed for work - there's still so much paperwork to be done.  The truth is though, I don't like being cooped inside.

I saw the strawberries peeking out of the half-melted snow -- a sign of almost spring?  It makes it hopeful.

But, I can also feel my body aches a bit more.  My posture has changed and standing up straight, walking... everything is a little harder.

I felt a chill with the wind - such a small breeze and I'm shivering.  I hate feeling this weak and I start worrying, maybe my body isn't ready for this.

Back at home, I show Paul my photos from the week.  He laughs: "Why are there all these birds in between photos of James?"

It's what I see!*

He thinks I should leave them in rather than split them off into a different folder: "When we look back on the collection, he'll wonder why the heck there were so many of the same birds."

(They're not actually all the same, see, a nuthatch, a woodpecker...)

It's good to laugh.  It warms me up a bit.

I also eat the "Ginger Vinegar" (薑醋) Mom's made me.  It's a traditional dish for new moms to help them heal their bodies.  Often made in large batches so it can also be shared with friends and families to celebrate the new baby (after the first month).  Aside from the ginger and (sweet dark) vinegar, it's made with pork hock, hard boiled eggs, and sugar.

I really don't like the sweet and sour taste (I add rice to try and dampen it), but maybe it will help make me feel better.

* And, it's my link to the outside. (And, because I'm a character in a book, it's also reveals my inner state.)

Not working, Doubt, and The Routine

I feel betrayed by my body.  I'm doing all things that I think are right*, but still not getting great results... just like how James wasn't growing enough inside.

* Except resting...

James the Mouth

I'm breast feeding and pumping, but I can't get ahead.  Every drop counts.  And it seems like he's actually expending more calories while breast feeding than he's actually getting: he's still so hungry afterwards, sometimes I end up topping him up with the same amount of EBM (Expressed Breast Milk) as if he didn't feed at all.  When he falls asleep, it seems out of exhaustion rather than being satisfied.

What? Me?

I keep disagreeing with Mom when she brings it up, but of course the doubt still lingers: Is my milk no good?  Am I not eating enough? I'm trying to fit in another meal even though I'm not hungry.

Nuthatch

This is how the day / night goes:
1) Breastfeed, 45 minutes
2) Top up feed of EBM, 15-20 minutes
3) Diaper change (and set to bed), 15 - 20 minutes
4) Pump for EBM (setup and cleanup), 30 - 40 minutes
5) Self care (eat, sleep, to do list), 30-60 minutes
6) Repeat

Sleepy smirk.

Monday: Pediatrician, Nuthatch, and Sweet Chariot

At lot of my good mood was gone by morning: I couldn't get James to settle.  When Mom showed up (dropped off by Dad earlier than expected) the stroller and car seat weren't assembled, and that made me even more frustrated.  I can't believe how quickly the hours go by with a three hour cycle.

Eventually, I get it all pieced together and Mom and I ate the lunch she made.  We were in time for Dad's re-arrival to all go to the pediatrician.  But he still had to wait and we had to endure his "What have you been doing all this time!" grumblings as Mom piled on more and more blankets on James to ward off the cold and sleet.  I tried not to lose my temper - that's plenty, let's go!

When important people go out there is much wind and rain.  Though I guess the original Chinese saying was actually referring to politics.

Neither of them wanted me to do any lifting, but I was the only one who knew how to get all the parts of the car seat and stroller clicked in place.  There was more yelling.

The Royal Alexandra Hospital Children's Centre, I suspect, didn't go through the same renovations as the Women's Centre.  The elevators are clunky, the walls have peeling slightly-off cartoon characters from Hey Diddle Diddle.  The overall effect is a bit disturbing, but Mom doesn't notice or recognise the place from when I was a baby.

The doctor seemed happy James cried when she did the exam (good strong lungs), also charmed by Mom's attention (though annoying to me since she didn't believe me when I'd given her the same answers).  Everything was on track.  We're to continue with the 3 hour cycle and come back for a follow-up in 2 weeks.

There's the same blanket bundling and fight over who should carry the car seat and all that, and I'm drained when we're finally back at home.

Next time, may be we should take a taxi.

I don't think I can stand more grumblings about how much more of a fuss it is nowadays that we need a car seat (Mom just carried me home in her arms) or that we have so many doctors appointments... or that I'm not dressing James properly, or that I shouldn't be breast feeding...

I was again a mess when Paul came home: I was crying.  I didn't think it would be like this.  I missed my old life where I didn't hurt all the time.  I also didn't want to be force fed or see James being force fed.  Paul tried to make it better.  He held me, he played with James, he played some Flight of Conchords... and it was better for a little while.

I try to think of the good / positive things:
- I saw the nuthatch at the feeder
- I built the Chariot
- James is doing OK

But it'll be hard again with the night wakings.  But at least I'll have some quiet with just the two of us tomorrow.

Winter Weekend Chickadee

Joy!  The chickadee is back at the feeder.  I hope that means it's making a home nearby.