Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Mr. T's Return: The Co-Parenting Adjustment

Father and son checking out the furniture at the DAT Academy Yard Sale.

Life is funny. Everything is funny. Joyous funny and "did that just really happen?" funny and "I can't believe this is happening" funny.

This morning, while on the way to drop Asher off to school, he managed to puke everything he had for breakfast up, while sitting casually in his carseat watching Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood in the car.   He was completely unfazed, I was in all-out panic mode (this being the fourth time he's done this in the past nine months), and Mr. T, well, he was cool, calm, and collected.

We drove back to the apartment and he took Asher, carseat and all, and strolled him up to the apartment, got him cleaned up, bathed, changed, and hydrated.

It's about 3.5 hours later and I'm still anxious. Every time Asher puked everywhere while Mr. T was gone, I had an absolute breakdown. Not only because I simply cannot handle puke (I can count the amount of times I've regurgitated in the past 20 years on one hand), but because when it was just me and the kid I felt helpless and alone. I immediately fell back into that feeling of anxiety, helplessness, and desperation that I felt all those other times he did the same while Mr. T was gone.

Tatty and Asher teamwork with the yard sale kitchen.
Despite Mr. T's reassurances that it really was okay, the two minute ride back home I was just frazzled. And, well, I still feel frazzled.

At the same time, I think back to lost work days and anxiety attacks when Mr. T wasn't around. Today, on the other hand, I was able to run to the kelim mikvah (I picked up stuff from three other peoples' homes and took a bunch of Pyrex I got on the cheap from Wal-Mart to be toveled), get the car cleaned, and now I'm sitting, working.

I even FaceTimed with Mr. T and Ash, it being the first time I've ever video chatted with my son, which was a super weird, but fun experience.

I'm trying to laugh about this morning. My body still feeling like static is running through it. The panic, the anxiety, the "what do I do now?" all the while having a partner and co-parent there ready to man the puke and do a massive, sickening load of laundry.

It's going to be okay. I just have to convince myself that I can and should accept the help. That I'm no longer single parenting a precocious toddler who has the most adorable temper tantrums you've ever seen.

Because I'm not alone anymore. My husband, the father of my beautiful boy, is home. And all of the adjustment and growing together pains are worth it. I'll get there. I promise. It's just going to take some time.

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Thursday, July 2, 2015

Update: This time it's good, I promise

As if my last post was sent into the upper reaches of the heavens almost immediately ...

He's coming. 

He picked up his visa this morning (even though the website still says its processing). He's at Ben Gurion right now. He'll be flying through Newark in the early hours of Friday. He'll be here in Denver at 9:05 a.m. please G-d tomorrow.

My husband, Asher's tatty, is coming back to us. (Home for now, I suppose, because it's where the heart is.)

I'm making challah. Trying to focus on working. Being amazed at the outpouring of support from friends to help us pay for his ticket home (I really wish Israel-USA flights were cheaper, but Israel doesn't like letting people go) and for being there for us over the past nine months.

Just in time for the 4th of July. Appropriate (or paradoxical), no?

Stay tuned ...

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Updates: There Are None!

For the first time since Mr. T hopped the pond, I actually managed to complete my agreed-upon gamut of articles for the month. I should celebrate! Crack open some ice cream or something, right? Alas.

I have been writing a lot about food as of late. And there's the problem.

It only makes sense that the only real update I have for you — as the consulate lied greatly when they told me that they would print Mr. T's visa as soon as they were back online (that was Friday, and, oh wait, it's Tuesday, and still no visa) — is that I've rejoined Weight Watchers and managed two days straight at the gym.

Go me! Go me! It's the Year of Chavi, don't you know?

I've managed to gain all the weight that Mr. T has lost while away, which has put me back at a truly unfortunate and uncomfortable weight, self image, and blah, blah, blah. I simply long to not have my toddler poking and prodding at my tummy and thighs ... although Mr. T has informed me that it's less that I'm fat and squishy than it is that Ash is seeing a part of mommy he doesn't normally see. It's cute curiosity, not an attempt to make me self conscious.

And, of course, I know. He's a toddler. He's not Cosmo checking for my beach-ready body.

But who wouldn't love more energy? A better self image? A more active life to keep up with a toddler giddy to run anywhere for anything at any time?

Either way, I had success on Weight Watchers back in 2008 when I was able to eat a very non-kosher diet that consisted of Trader Joe's chicken fingers and potato wedges and Subway sandwiches. Since then, every attempt I've made with Weight Watchers has consisted of me trying to completely overhaul my entire diet to fit the plan. This time, I'm sticking to my current diet and focusing on portions and self control. Will power!

One day in and I find myself obsessively thinking about food and how hungry I am. Maybe even when I'm not.

Anyhow, speaking of ice cream ... the best part of my day? A frozen banana blended with some chocolate chips shared with my little monkey. Make your own with The Kitchn's One-Ingredient Ice Cream! It's better than real ice cream. I promise.

Let's do this.