Work.

Well. It's been quite awhile since my last entry. And life has been interesting.

I'm working incredibly hard. I currently have three jobs - one at Subway, one at Lakes Latté (a cute little coffee shop in Pequot), and one at a resort called Pinedale (where I do cabin-cleaning on Saturday mornings). I rarely have days off anymore - I count myself lucky if I get an afternoon off. Most mornings are an early start - beginning work at 6 or 6:30 - so I'm not getting much sleep. Plus Adelaide is going through some heinous teething right now, so the small amount of sleep I'm getting is constantly interrupted.

Hopefully my work situation will change soon. I've discovered that Subway makes a great sandwich but a horrible employer. My bosses are not nice people. They make me doubt my own word (I told Lady Boss I couldn't work a particular time; she schedules me for it anyway, insisting I wrote it down for her and "I've got it right here in your own handwriting that you can work"). They 'forget' to tell you things ("Oh didn't Guy Boss tell you you're not at Store 1 anymore? Oh I thought he was going to tell you - no, we're just scheduling you for Store 2 now, okay? We decided two weeks ago"). They have double standards with their employees (the manager at Store 2, for example, works incredibly hard, was not allowed any time off over the summer, and is given no leeway - the manager at Store 1 "forgot" to tell her coworkers she was going out for a 25-minute cigarette break when she was working at Store 2, and was defended by Lady Boss who insisted that Store 1 Manager was "having a rough day" and we should "cut her some slack"). AND I found out today that it's not unheard of for them to be mean and whatever around this time of year - why? They pay out a summer bonus to all employees who work from Memorial Day to Labor Day (ie. the whole summer). The more summer employees they can piss off and get them to resign before August 31st, the less bonuses they have to pay.

Now, I realise publicising this blog entry on the Internet could be seen as some kind of slander. I have no definitive proof or whatever to back up what I've said. All this is from what I've heard - except for the lack of communication thing with me. So take it with a grain of salt.

Me? I'm not even caring anymore. I got a little upset this afternoon when I found out about their alleged Less Employees Means Less Summer Bonuses deal. But I had to remind myself that the whole thing is really not worth my energy to worry about. All I need to do is get to work, do my job, and go home again. They want to create a whole lot of bullshit, well, that's their prerogative. Once I've got my summer bonus, I'm handing in my resignation. Sure, I could quit now, saying that a few hundred dollars isn't worth it. But if they want to get rid of summer employees, I'm going to make them pay for it first! ;)

Lakes Latté, on the other hand, is a haven. Just stepping inside the doors is a heavenly assault of the senses. The aroma of coffee fills your nostrils, your lungs, your entire body. The warm lighting of the seating areas makes your whole day feel like nap time (not necessarily a good thing for me during our lunch rush, though :P). The sound of the coffee grinder, the espresso machine, and the funky "café appropriate" tunes (which range from Beck, Ben Folds and Jack Johnson to Basement Jaxx, Daft Punk, Weezer, The Fray and the soundtrack to the anime Cowboy Bebop) are enveloping and fun. The touch of... well, I'm not sure if touch is a sense that features here. Did I cover the others? Smell, sight, sound... oh, of course. And TASTE. Boy howdy. You haven't had good coffee if you haven't had a coffee at Lakes Latté. Honest to goodness, this isn't a promotion for them or anything :P but I'm just so in love with them, I have to rave! We use organic fairtrade beans, and we grind them ourselves as we go throughout the day. We use one more shot per drink size than most other coffee establishments (for example, a "small" 12oz drink usually is just one shot of espresso - we use two). We have a huge variety of flavorings, with a good selection of sugar-free choices. We... um. Well, we just rock all round. THE OREO FLURRY. Oh my goodness. You haven't lived til you've tried an Oreo Flurry. And I'm not saying a "McFlurry". Gawd no. This is different. And awesome. I describe it to customers as "heaven in a cup", because that's rooly-trooly what it is. Mmmm.

My current favorite drink? A 12oz brevé, with coconut and vanilla (a brevé is made like a latté, only you use half-and-half instead of milke). MMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmm. Talk about enveloping. That thing just swallows you right up.

...

Well I must say I'm enjoying the direction in which this post has come. I started out all "boo hiss Subway SUCKS" and now I'm salivating at the thought of the lovely brevé that will greet me when I go to work tomorrow. :)

So, long post short: Work at Subway sucks. Work at Lakes Latté is teh r0x0rz. That is all.

[insert appropriate title here]

I had a bit of a breakdown the other night. You know how it goes - crying on your husband's shoulder in bed, not being able to shut your mind off to try and sleep, feeling miserable enough to transfer over to the next day. All that jazz. As it so often happens, it started as one tiny thing and gushed open into a million others.

It seems my current 'button' that pushes me over the edge is my milk supply. Now, Adelaide has had formula before at daycare when necessary, and although I'm not a huge fan of it, I'd rather her have that than go hungry. But as best as I can, I want to make sure she's eating as much breastmilk as possible. So when my supply goes wonky, I tend to go wonky also. And the other night, my supply was going wonky. In hindsight, it was probably due to being sick over the weekend, or maybe not drinking enough milk and/or water myself, but at the time I was freaking. It was about 10pm the night before an 8-hour shift - for which I had just over a full bottle for Laidey (about 6 or 7 ounces all up). True, she could just have formula if she gets hunrgy, but I think I was in a bit of a fragile mood anyway, because it got me crying. Not just that, though. The whole thing about why I even have to work at all.

I don't want to be one of those people who bitches about "back in the day it cost a nickel to fill the car up, and it'd run for dickety-six miles on the sniff of an oily rag". But with the price of gas, plus the price of childcare, going to work often seems like an exercise in futility. I'm making US$7 an hour. Minimum wage. Yeah, it sucks. Childcare and gas costs approximately $37 per shift. So in order to break even, I need to work for at least six hours at a time. At the moment, they're giving me 8-hour shifts, which is good, but it's still only getting me $56 a shift, before tax. At the very, very most, I'm making $20 a shift. So sometimes it's kinda depressing to think about.

Plus there's the whole maternal thing. I like to work (mostly), but I also like being a mother. I love my baby like you wouldn't believe, and I love to spend time with her. I know being a stay-at-home mum isn't an option, but it's a truth I accept and act upon reluctantly.

So, take the "exercise-in-futility" mindset, weigh it against the "I-love-spending-time-with-my-baby" mindset, and add to the mix the "holy-crap-my-supply-is-running-low" mindset, and... well it ain't pretty. As I said before, my brain wouldn't shut off, I couldn't fall back onto the whole Scarlett O'Hara mantra of "I won't think about it now; I'll think about it tomorrow". It was there, in the front of my mind, and I couldn't ignore it. I was working for pennies a day, which was taking me away from someone I love fiercely, and I couldn't even make it up to her by supplying her with enough food for while I was gone.

Fun times.

And I learnt something about myself while I was bawling my eyes out. Most of the time, the things I'm crying about aren't what they appear. It really wasn't my supply, or that I'm not making much money at work. It's that I'm not at home. That's really what it comes down to. I found myself thinking, "If only I was home. If only I was home I could be making so much more money... I wouldn't have to pay for childcare because Mum or Kerrin or someone could watch Adelaide... I wouldn't be living in my in-laws' basement... I would feel so much happier at home..."

And that's pretty much the core of anything I'm ever upset or angry or frustrated about these days. Everything comes back to "if I were at home, things would be different/easier/better."

I've got to stop thinking that way.

Simply put, I'm not home, and I won't be home for some years yet, most likely. It sucks, but that's the truth of it. I married Aaron knowing (though perhaps not to such an extreme extent) that life would be difficult for one of us no matter where we lived, and we made the choice to live in the States. This is where I'm living, this is where my "home" is right now.

Now, I'm not saying I should completely turn my back on Australia, or that being homesick is wrong. But to blame all my problems on being here instead of there, and imagining that everything would be hunky-dory if only we were back home, that's not helpful.

I sometimes get annoyed that I'm the one 'suffering' while Aaron gets to stay in his home land. But then I imagine moving back home with Aaron and Adelaide, and I see how crushed Mary and John would be... their already-small family being split in half. They love Adelaide so much, and she thinks they're just the bee's knees. I can't imagine it. And when I think seriously about moving home, when we start to think of the logistics, I can see why Aaron would be reluctant. We'd probably move back to Keith or Bordertown, so we'd be surrounded by a bunch of yobbos and bogans... not exactly Aaron's type of place.

Maybe it's that I'm more adaptable and flexible than he is. I never thought about that. I don't feel it very much, but I guess I kinda am. A lot of people have told me how much they admire me for moving halfway across the world from my home and family, and a lot of the time I just brush it off, joking that "love makes you do some crazy things". I don't see it as something admirable. I love Aaron, so I'm here. Simple as that. It's nothing I've worked hard for, or aimed for all my life. I fell in love, and now I'm here. It just happened. I know it's not really as simple as all that, but that's what it comes down to. If I'm really as homesick as this blog shows (and I'm sure I am), then it must be an insurmountable love that's keeping me here. And I know I've got that in Aaron. What a guy. <3

Well. I'm not sure exactly what this post was meant to be. It kinda went around in circles, and so if you're still with me, here at the end, I commend you. If I could give you a cookie, I would.

Sick! or, Father's Day 2008

"I don't like Fathers Day." This was Aaron's final summation of his very first Fathers Day. Personally I don't blame him one bit, considering at the time of his uttering aforementioned phrase, he was in bed battling nausea. And it was such a 'neat-o' experience that he shared it with me.

Father's Day began pretty nicely. Aaron did have to work that morning, from about 5:30 til 9:30, but he was used to it so it's not a huge deal. Then after Laidey and I got home from church, we all with John and Mary made a Fathers Day brunch. I'm not sure how widespread this type of brunch is in Australia; all I know is I never experienced it quite like this til I came to the States. Bacon, eggs, French toast, biscuits and gravy (biscuits = huge-arse buttery scones), juice (my new favorite, pomegranate blueberry - yum), and fruit. We had cantaloupe (= rockmelon), watermelon and strawberries. Everything was incredibly tasty, and we all ate quite a bit. Aaron opened his gifts (a two-year subscription to Motor Trend magazine, and his first inaugural Fathers Day Cheesy Tie), we lounged around and basically had a nice lazy morning. John and Mary went into town (= Brainerd) to do some shopping, and then to visit Mary's mom and dad, and once Laidey had napped and was ready, we would join them.

Aaron and I fell asleep on the couch, which I thought was due to a) him getting up early for work; and b) me getting up early for church. In hindsight it was probably the beginning of the whole sickness thing. Anyway, so we woke up and Laidey woke up, and we all got in the car and headed into town. On the way, I started to feel kinda weird. I guess Aaron did too, but he never said anything. We went and spent some time with Grandma and Grandpa, who were very pleased to see little Adelaide. Who of course showed off her new mad skillz by creeping across the table several times, and rolling and sitting like a pro! *bursting with maternal pride*

Soon, though, Aaron was looking tired, so we headed out. On the way home, we discovered we were both feeling pretty crappy. Which made itself known very rapidly as soon as we arrived home... poor Aaron threw up before we even got inside. The rest of the evening was spent making sure he was comfortable and that Laidey was entertained... before it hit me. I tell you what, nothing is more miserable than laying in bed, waiting to throw up. If Aaron wasn't sick too, I would have sworn it was morning sickness all over again.

So... yeah. That was Father's Day. Monday was spent with both of us at home. I think Adelaide got bored with just hanging out with Mumma on the couch, instead of playing with the other kids at daycare, but she did well and thankfully she didn't get sick.

Oh, which reminds me: not only did she dazzle us all with her creeping skillz, she also had her first taste of big-people food on Sunday!! I froze a piece of cantaloupe and put it inside a mesh pacifier thingo so she couldn't actually get any of it into her mouth. She was just able to suck on it and have a taste. I'm not sure entirely how successful the endeavour was - she seemed to enjoy the coolness of it on her gums to begin with, and when she reached the actual juicyness her expression changed. I don't think it was "Yuck" or "Yum", it was more "...well this is different." Of course she got very sticky, which meant Daddy gave her a nice warm bath in the middle of the day.

But it's back to work today. We're feeling much better. :)

To vax or not to vax?

This was the question weighing heavily on my mind recently: whether or not to vaccinate my baby. Despite parenting being such an intimate and personal journey, there are so many people who think their opinion is number one, that if you don't do this, this and this then you're a bad parent, that their way of parenting is perfect for everyone. This is the set that I've heard being referred to as being "mommier-than-thou".

If you ask me, parenting is tough enough without having the extra external pressures. I experienced this even before Laidey was born. I commented to a coworker that we were not planning to push the whole Santa Claus thing for Christmas (that we would instead be focusing on the giving, the togetherness, and the true reason for the holiday). Well. You'd think I'd walked up to this lady and spit in her face. "MY kids believed in Santa, and THEY turned out JUST FINE!" And she literally ignored me for the rest of the afternoon. I couldn't believe it. Okay, so the whole Santa deal worked for your family. That's great, it really is. But that's your family. Every family has their own decisions to make, and just because our decision is different to yours, doesn't mean either one is 100% perfect or correct.

But easily the largest decision we've had to make is regarding vaccination. There seems to be a real fierce divide between camps on this issue. It's either "vaccinations give your children autism!" or "not vaccinating makes you a bad parent and citizen!" Sheesh. Firstly, neither of those extreme views are entirely correct. Secondly, refer to what I said about each family making their own decisions.

For our family, it was tough. I have friends and family who have decided to not vaccinate, for various reasons that I completely agree with and for which they have my utmost support. And I have other friends and family who did decide to vaccinate, and that's great too. Like many things in life, I don't think this is a black-or-white issue. There are certain circumstances in which, at least for some vaccines, the shots should not be given (certain allergies to some of the proteins or preservatives), so to claim not vaccinating is bad parenting is judgmental, wrong and careless at best.

My main concerns were not the shots themselves, or the pain that would accompany the administration of these shots. I was more concerned about a) the necessity of each shot; and b) the ingredients of those shots. I spoke about this with our paediatrician, who was very kind and helpful. You can get a lot of rude and dismissive physicians who don't even take the time to listen to you or answer your questions in depth, so it was really good that Laidey's doctor took the time to listen to my concerns, and gave me her opinion. Now, to her credit, she didn't just go with her "official professional opinion". She said that, as a doctor, she really wasn't allowed to suggest a modified or delayed schedule, but she gave me examples of what other patients had done, and told me which diseases are prevented by which vaccines.

We didn't go into any of the ingredient stuff, but that's another thing to look out for. Ingredients like formaldehyde, thimerasol and mercury still exist in certain shots, and I know that some parents are concerned about the safety of their use. And like I said above, some shots contain certain proteins or preservatives that make them unusable to people with certain allergies (I can't remember which shot it is, but I'm pretty sure one of them contains egg white, so if you were allergic to eggs, you shouldn't have that shot).

As Laidey's two-month check-up approached, I started getting panicky because I didn't know what I wanted to do. I knew I didn't want to get the shots done "just because the doctor says so", but I wanted to be informed for myself. I did a bunch of research (note to everyone: be careful when using the Internet as a research tool. Every psycho maniac and his dog has access to the Net these days, and there are some pretty loopy web pages out there!) and made sure I knew what was going on. That's the important thing. Knowledge is power and all that. If you are just blindly going along with whatever some guy in authority says, there's a very real danger for exploitation, and keeping the masses uninformed. Do whatever you do with all your heart, and make sure you know WHY you're doing it. If "because that guy said I should" is your reason, it's the wrong reason.

Anyway, then it was just a matter of deciding whether the benefits outweighed the risks. Do the slim chances of autism, and severe side effects outweigh the benefits of not seeing my child contract diptheria/tetanus/pertussis/meningitis/polio?

In the end... we decided to get her vaccinated. She's not allergic to anything, and she doesn't have any issues that would mean we couldn't vaccinate. There are risks involved with every decision you make, but when it comes to such terrible diseases that can reach epidemic proportions so quickly, I'd rather know she was protected.

I'm not pushing an agenda here, by the way. You may have noticed I've tried to be extremely diplomatic, because I know at least one of my readers is very adamant about her position on the topic (you know who you are :P). For all you parents out there who are reading this: I respect your decision. It's a tough one to make, and there are so many tough choices to make for your child. You have to wonder whether what *you* are deciding is something your *child* would have decided or would have liked. It can be tough to be an advocate to someone who doesn't walk or talk.