Who wears the pants?

A few days ago I read a really interesting article in the New York Times, entitled "Who Wears the Pants in This Economy?"  The author visited a small former mill town in Alabama where until recently, a working wife/mother was shockingly non-traditional and where men were able to provide a comfortable living as sole breadwinners until the mills closed and most of the male employees were laid off.   With no real diversification in local industry, many of those men have been unemployed for the long term.   The working class and middle class families profiled had women who bucked the trend and had careers, and were now the primary or sole breadwinners while their husbands sort of drifted, maybe doing some light housework or ferrying teenage children to activities and hunting or fishing in between.   It was fascinating because these families were being told at their church and among their social circles that men are to provide and women are to nurture at home and were teaching these strict gender roles to their kids, and yet there's this sharp contrast with those values and the families' reality in the post-Great Recession economy.  The men are left in a position where they're the titular head of the household but with none of the financial power that they used to have, and the women are told in church that they're to be submissive wives yet are the ones financially supporting the household.

We are a family who was substantially impacted by the economic collapse.  In September 2008, we were doing pretty darned well.   Mark was working at a great job that he liked and that paid very nicely.   I was working where I work now, albeit for a different manager (one who I wasn't thrilled with).   And then in October the markets melted down and Mark was laid off with no warning.   Nine long and difficult months of unemployment ensued, followed by just over a year of him working in a retail setting for a crummy little cell phone company that hired him with the promise of rapid advancement that never panned out.   He was laid off by that company when I was 20 weeks pregnant, only to get a new job with that same company that not only paid less but gave him an hourlong commute each way every day (still better than nothing - especially with a baby on the way).   Because of the layoff he had no PTO and was short of FMLA eligibility by just a few weeks when Lily was born, so he took a week of unpaid leave and hoped they'd hold to their promise to keep his job while he was out.   They did, but the day he returned he was informed that his department was being closed down as of the next day and that he should be grateful that rather than being laid off they were sending the employees back to retail.   He came home from work that day to his wife and week old baby and started sending out resumes.  Within a week he'd heard from his current employer and started the interview process.  He gave his notice and started his current job when Lily was 6 weeks old.   A week after he left, his former employer ceased doing business in this state - we were fortunate that he'd gotten out prior to the company shutting down.

He works for a huge telecom/wireless company (a hint - "Can you hear me now?") and his employer provides us with great medical insurance at 1/4 the premiums of what is offered by my employer (which is pushing hard to get employees on high deductible plans).  Their tuition assistance will just about cover the bill for him to go to grad school, which hopefully will start next month.   Because he's salaried non-exempt, he's able to get overtime, which helps substantially even if he only picks up a few hours a week.   The kicker is that he basically started his career over again at entry level at the age of 31.   He'll get caught up again eventually, but it's not going to be during our childbearing years.   I still earn nearly twice what he does, and we expect that the relative disparity will continue for some time to come.

You'd think that this situation would bother us, but it really doesn't.   We both grew up in families where both of our parents worked.   Yeah, my mom was home with me for my first year and his mom was home with the kids until Mark started school, but basically for as long as either of us can remember, we saw our parents both working and parenting and maintaining our homes.   Our religion (or lack thereof) never told us that God wanted the man to provide and the woman to nurture.    Most of our friends and all of our relatives in our age range are in situations where both spouses work.   It's just our reality, and both of us have a decent sense of balance when it comes to our careers and our life at home.   We both provide, and we both nurture our child.   In a very real sense we both wear the pants in our family and we're happy with that!

That's why it was kind of shocking to read that NY Times article and realize that there are plenty of people who still buy into the "a man supports his family and a woman nurtures her family" gender roles.   I know it's a function of religious institutions and local society dictating as such, but it's still startling to know that in other parts of the US, little girls in Sunday School are being told that they are princesses for their future husbands to take care of - yet reality is that those girls are the ones going to college, getting jobs as nurses and teachers and engineers, and are likely to need to work to help support their families.   Their male counterparts are having it drilled into their heads that being a sole provider is their birthright, yet most of them will be unable to do so in the new economy.   As a sociological phenomenon I find it fascinating that kids are being raised with that sort of traditional outlook when in fact their actual lives are likely to be very different.

Small knitting projects

I've done a couple of small projects in the last few weeks.

The first is a Brattleboro Hat for myself.  Love!  I knit it in Malabrigo Rios, which has rapidly become my favorite superwash wool (unfortunately it's not cheap, although not as expensive as the gorgeous Tosh Vintage or DIC Classy).  Mal Rios is so soft and smooshy and easy on the hands to knit.   If I hit the lotto jackpot I'll be buying enough Rios to knit myself a freaking afghan.

The second is an Aviatrix hat for Lily, in the 2-4 year size.  It's just right for her giant noggin, but I wasn't able to get an action shot.  Also in Rios, but a different colorway that I bought a while ago for a cowl for myself.   I have more than enough yarn left over to knit her matching mittens!    

Finally, I taught myself to double crochet (thanks, YouTube) so that I could finish Lily's Elenka dress.  It's a size 2 with extra length in the skirt, knit in Lion Brand Cotton-Ease (see, I'm not that much of a yarn snob!).  No action shot yet, but she needs to wear it soon before it gets too cold.   I'm using the remaining yarn in the ball to knit a little diaper/underwear cover because the openwork in the skirt is a little more open than I'd like.  

I have a BIG project that I just finished, which I started in October 2011.  It's a shawl for me, knit in a lovely baby alpaca/merino/cashmere blend which is obscenely warm and cozy.   It's blocking now.  

We are weaned

I have a feeling even my friends who are/were nursing moms might find this a little weird, but I nursed my kid on her 2nd birthday!   It's just not something you talk about with other people, unless you're sure they're like-minded.   Of course Mark knew that we were still nursing, and my parents and brother were aware of it but I think my inlaws, coworkers, and most of our friends operated on the assumption that she weaned a while ago.  It's socially acceptable, even desirable, to nurse an infant - but nursing a toddler is a whole different ball of wax.  I have to admit that until I was the nursing mom of a toddler, I thought it was a little weird myself - but then as we were going through Lily's 2nd year it felt perfectly natural to continue.

After Lily's first birthday I had met my goal to nurse until at least 1 year old, and decided that anything after that would be up to her and I was willing to go until 18 months or so.   Most of my friends whose kids are the same age as Lily ended up with their toddlers weaning at right around a year, maybe going a month or two more but then showing no more interest.   As 18 months approached, I quietly decided that I'd be OK with continuing until the 2 year mark but was sure that she'd self-wean before then.   Yeah, right!    I never wanted weaning to be a traumatic or difficult thing for either of us, and I didn't mind continuing the once-a-day nursing routine since I still had milk, so I didn't push the issue.

In the weeks leading up to Lily's birthday she started skipping a night here and there, and shortened up the time she spent nursing.   I was totally cool with this until she skipped TWO nights.  I've been doing don't offer/don't refuse for ages now (basically since her first birthday) but it hit me like a ton of bricks that my baby was ready to be done with nursing.   Naturally as soon as I went downstairs and broke down crying, she started calling for me to nurse and I ran back up to oblige.  She went back to asking to nurse most nights for a few more weeks.  Still, I wasn't at all surprised when sometime last week she just stopped asking.  We read books and rock in the glider and then she gets into her bed.   No tears, no drama, just a little girl who decided that she doesn't need to nurse anymore - exactly what I wanted weaning to be for us.

It's a bittersweet feeling to know that our nursing relationship is over.   On one hand I'm really glad that my body will be 100% my own for at least a few months; between pregnancy and nursing it's been close to 3 years.   Her lip tie has also been causing issues in recent months to the point where if she was nursing more than once a day I would have probably developed abrasions and mastitis again.   On the other hand, nursing was something that was a constant part of our lives since she was less than an hour old.  It's something that I always treasured, not just as a way to nourish my baby but as an emotional bonding experience.   Nursing (and pumping) was the one thing that only I could do for her, even though I had to be at work, and that meant a lot to me.  

Every bit of the early struggle to breastfeed was more than worth it for the 24+ months of nursing that we shared, not to mention the wonderful friends who we've made thanks to the breastfeeding support group that I found when she was a week old.  God willing, there will be at least one more baby in the future and that baby and I will have a long and happy nursing relationship just like the one Lily and I shared.

A summery sweater

Since I've been on a knitting kick lately, here is a project I finished yesterday morning.   It's a short sleeved sweater with lace sleeves and a mock button yoke.   The pattern is called Hine and I bought it along with the companion pattern Tama in an e-book.   I used Sirdar Snuggly Baby Bamboo DK as the yarn - I really liked the pattern but was less than thrilled with the yarn.  It's an 80/20 blend of bamboo and wool and has a lovely drape and sheen, but was really splitty and had 2-3 knots per ball.  For the price I paid, I expect better quality.  

I knit the 2 year size and it ended up being a little big on my petite kid.  She should be able to wear it all fall and winter and into the spring with no problem.

In progress:

Finished (but unblocked, so there's unevenness):

An accidentally-patriotic sweater

I cast on for this sweater in January - basically following Elizabeth Zimmerman's Baby Surprise Jacket pattern, but modified heavily to fit a toddler/child.   I do have the A-B-C-SJ pattern but I've knit enough BSJs by now that I think I could do it without needing to read!  

I got around 60% finished and then put it down for 6 months while I finished grad school.   I decided to pick up back up and challenged myself to finish it during the Olympics.  I used a provisional cast on, lengthened the center 90 by 4-5 ridges, then widened the torso a bit by knitting a few extra ridges prior to the buttonholes.   I did an applied i-cord bind off followed by picking up the provisional cast on and lengthening the sleeves, then a three needle i-cord bind off to seam the sleeves.  The colors are red, blue, and an off-white/light beige, so it looks patriotic although I just liked the way the colors went together.   The i-cord in particular felt like it took FOREVER especially since I had to do a variation to avoid a color blip from the stripes in the jacket, but I got it done less than a week into the Olympics.  The striping is a total coincidence.

This is the result!

I managed to convince Lily to try it on, and it looks like a 2T/3T size, and I think there's a decent chance it'll fit her not only this fall and winter but next year as well.  

Two

Today Lily is two.  As I started to explain in my last post, we had an interesting start.   After a blessedly fast stage of active labor and only 15 minutes of pushing, at 9:54 AM on August 5, 2010 my doctor announced "It's a girl" and put our baby on my tummy - and our lives changed forever.   My fear of being someone's mom went away and I fell in love with the little person who we had wanted so much and waited for 9 months to meet.  Every day, being Lily's mom reminds me that raising her and her future sibling(s) is what I'm on this earth to do.  In some ways it feels like it was just yesterday and in others it feels like it's been a lifetime.  

It's been two years since I went to bed without checking on my sleeping little girl in the next room.  

It's been two years of going everywhere with a diaper bag.  

It's been two years of having to put breakable things away or on high shelves out of reach of little hands.

It's been two years of snuggles, cuddles, and love.  

It's been the best two years of my life.  

Happy birthday, my girl.  

Fear

Fear is most of what I felt two years ago today.

The previous Friday, my coworkers had thrown a surprise party for me to celebrate the impending arrival (my due date was August 11th).  I had a huge piece of cake and usually that amount of sugar would have "Marvin" bouncing off the walls in there - the baby was moving but not as much as I thought s/he should, so I called my OB's office.   Of course he was on vacation, it was late in the day on a Friday, and the other OB in the office couldn't fit me in.   So they sent me to OB triage at the hospital for a biophysical profile to make sure everything was OK, saying that since I was seeing and feeling movement it was probably just the usual slowing-down as a baby runs out of room.   I had been in for my 38 week appointment three days prior and all had been well, and the baby was definitely kicking a bit, so I tried not to panic as I drove from the office to the Hospital of Central Connecticut. 

Naturally as soon as I got to the hospital Baby Marvin was bouncing around like crazy.  I told the nurse that as she got me set up in a bed for the test, and she laughed and said that was typical.   The OB resident came in and did an ultrasound before pronouncing the baby "textbook perfect" and that baby was indeed just slowing down and running out of room.  We all chalked it up to first time mom jitters.   After an hour and a half at the hospital (during which at least one baby was born across the hall from my triage room) I was cleared to leave, but when I stopped at the desk for my paperwork the nurse realized the automatic BP cuff had not been working and they really should check it quickly for sake of completeness in my chart.   She brought me back in, put the cuff on, and started the machine - and when she saw the reading her demeanor and that of the resident changed in a split second.   I was immediately put back into bed with the baby on continuous monitoring and my BP being checked every 10 minutes, while they drew labs to check for HELLP syndrome (!).   Once those came back clear (so the baby and I weren't in immediate danger) they called the on-call OB from my doctor's practice to have him decide if I'd be admitted for a 24 hour urine collection or if I could go home on bed rest to do said collection over the weekend.   He decided I could go home but I was instructed by the nurses that I could get up only to go to the bathroom and take a quick shower, and that if I experienced any other symptoms of pre-eclampsia or eclampsia I was to come directly to the hospital with no delay.   So what started as a pretty routine biophysical profile ended up with spending 4.5 hours in OB triage and going home on bed rest until I could see my doctor.  

I spent the weekend and Monday on the couch, feeling decent and sure that this was all some big misunderstanding.  I had plans to go out with my sister in law and my husband's cousin for pedicures and that had to be cancelled.  I was pissed that I couldn't clean my house.   And I was scared that something could go wrong with me or the baby.   My husband dropped off the pee bucket at the hospital lab after 24 hours and we waited.   The first appointment I had, for the 3rd, was cancelled because my doctor had an emergency at the hospital. They could have had me see the nurse practitioner, who is a nice person but not the doctor who I knew and trusted and saw for all of my prenatal care.   I said I'd stay on the couch for another day.  

On the 4th I called into a work meeting from home before my appointment, saying that I was sure that once I saw the doctor I'd be cleared to come back to work.   I think it was a defense mechanism on my part but I still felt pretty normal for 39 weeks pregnant.   His medical assistant took my blood pressure twice, and for the first time she didn't tell me the numbers.  My OB came in and took my blood pressure himself to double check, and it was still sky high.   He'd gotten the lab report from the 24 hour urine collection and it was confirmed - I had pre-eclampsia.   I was only spilling a bit of protein but my blood pressure was high enough that he wanted to induce immediately.   He did an ultrasound and the baby was still doing perfectly but I was not, and delivery is the only cure for pre-eclampsia.   So I was told to get Mark home from work and to eat a hearty lunch, because the nurses would be expecting us at the hospital in the early afternoon.  

We got there and I was admitted.  The maternity unit was jam-packed and I got the last L&D room.   A resident started Cervidil, with Pitocin to start 12 hours later.  I was only 1 cm dilated and was excited and terrified.  I didn't want an induction, with the IV and the monitoring and the Pitocin and the increased risk of it winding up as a C-section.   We had been hoping for a low-intervention birth with just a heplock and intermittent monitoring and no meds - but I was sick and everything had changed. I tried to not be sad at losing the "birth experience" that I thought I should want, and was grateful to the nurses and my doctor for doing what they could to make those necessary interventions easier on us and explaining everything before it happened.   My OB had assured me that he wasn't in the mood to do a C-section on a patient with pre-eclampsia unless the baby needed to be born ASAP and that he thought the induction was likely to be successful because the baby was doing so well and we had caught the pre-eclampsia before it could become severe.    And once we were at the hospital I actually felt relief at having continuous monitoring - I knew that if the baby started to go downhill, they'd see it immediately and the surgical suite was just a few doors down the hall.   The nurses were incredibly supportive and helpful, and I knew my OB was on-call the next day and would likely be the one there to catch the baby at delivery.  I was scared, but we were all OK.  

And we knew that the next day, August 5th, we'd probably have our baby.   To this day I'm not sure whether I was more scared about having a high risk delivery or about being someone's mother.   I have a feeling that it was actually the latter!