Work life balance has been a big topic around Chez McDougall-Foster lately.

I gave Eric an ultimatium a few weeks ago: Either we find the money to put the girls in another day of daycare, or I get a laptop.  A laptop would extend my work time in the evenings, and allow me to at least stay on top of email on the one or two days a week Lucy and Alice are home with me.

The laptop won.

It’s been a blessing and a curse. More much-needed work getting done, but now I feel like I’m working all. the. time.

Don’t get me wrong for a second: I absolutely love working for myself. I love working from home. I love being close to my girls, and picking them up each day, and enjoying my time with them.

But it doesn’t mean I’m doing laundry and making dinner the three days they’re in daycare. So it’s just like I leave the house each day from 8:30-4:30, except some days I don’t shower and I interview people in my fuzzy pink pajamas.

There still exists the same pressure of when to buy groceries, getting food on the table at a reasonable time, keeping things relatively clean and tidy. Oh, and keeping a marriage going, volunteering and having a semblance of a social life.

I still look back and snort at our pre-kids life and ever thinking we were busy. Or tired.

How do you manage it all? Do you feel under control at the office and home? Do all parents walk around with a facade of togetherness?

Whenever my girls are sick, I feel split down the middle.

The love is overwhelming. Lucy has bronchitis right now, and she is my second skin. She won’t go up the stairs unless she’s in my arms. She calls for me — and only me — in the middle of the night. On Monday when I told her she was staying home with me, she said we’d spend the whole day snuggling (and we did).

Being able to give that comfort like no other…there’s something incredibly powerful in that.

But after day three, I’m exhausted. It’s trying to be so…”on.” It’s hard to keep the patience up, especially when the sick is combined with whining, demands and constant need for attention.

I love it. I hate it. It’s exhilarating. It’s exhausting.

It’s motherhood.

Last Monday I told Eric I was feeling intermittent dizziness.

Tuesday I told my business partner, Kirsty, my vision was blurring, and dizziness increasing.

Wednesday afternoon I was flat out on the couch, unable to sit, stand or walk without feeling like I was on the Tilt a Whirl at the fair. Or suffering from a wicked ass hangover without a drink passing my lips. The world spun. I was nauseous when my eyes were open, and crashed into walls when walking. I could not even think about picking up Lucy or Alice, or driving the car. Eric had to come home early.

A visit to a walk-in clinic revealed a viral inner ear infection. “Wait it out,” Dr. S said after tapping my joints and listening to my organs to make sure I wasn’t dying from some rare neurological disease (or a stroke, as I was honestly worried about, what with three of the five early warning signs).

On the couch or in bed I remained for the next two days, while Eric, and then my parents, looked after the girls. It took until Saturday afternoon to feel any semblance of normal.

Do you ever feel guilty when you’re sick? Even though I was completely justified in being prostrate for three days, popping Gravol and Advil like candy, I felt…bad watching Eric do everything. Helpless. Lucy was very frustrated that I wasn’t involved in bedtime or couldn’t even sit to watch a movie with her. Alice didn’t care as much, or couldn’t articulate it in the same way, although she did keep toddling over to me and laying her head down on my pillow for smooches.

Both Eric and I have single parents in our families, and I think last week gave us a whole new respect for them. Sure, we’ve had days before when one of us has been away or working late, but having one of us completely unable to function was a new and harsh experience. I can’t even imagine having to do baths or cook feeling the way I felt.

To all the single parents out there: You rock.

(And special extra thanks to my hubby and parents for helping when our family needed it most.)

• White Out
• steak knife
• AA batteries
• stamp-sized magnets
• washing machine
• car alarm
• aluminum foil container
• freezer
• fridge
• dishwasher
• toilet
• toilet
• toilet
• diaper pail
• central vac outlet
• DVD bookshelf
• office drawer
• kitchen junk drawer
• pumpkin carving utensils
• marbles
• glass vases
• Spencer Dog
• cat door
• hammer
• Phillips screwdriver
• television
• DVD player
• silver stilettos
• coat hanger
• hand sanitizer
• USB jump drive
• me, going to the bathroom

So, did you get the H1N1 shot?

We, guiltily, have not yet. No excuse except we keep forgetting (OK, and maybe another reason, but I put it below in a lame attempt to hide it).

But.

Last week Alice had the flu. Albeit it was short — 24 hours — she still had it. To feel her shaking in my arms with the chills and watch her face turn red as she choked while vomitting in her crib at 2 a.m. was enough of a reminder that we must get the damn shot. I’ve been on second child flu watch ever since, too, just waiting for Lucy to get something.

(Tangent: Why do kids always throw up in the middle of the night? Why not at 9 a.m. when I’m completely awake and not half nekkid clutching my bathrobe? And why always in bed? Why not on the hardwood floors that are at least easier to clean? They’re born programmed this way, aren’t they?)

• Flu clinics are now open to everyone, and the Region of Durham has a full list of local clinics here (many doctor’s offices are administering it, too)
• No matter where you live in Ontario, the Ministry of Health and Long-Term Care has links to every health unit in the province here.
• They also have a really neat self-assessment tool for parents to determine if your child under five or youth/adult over 5 actually has the flu. Check it out here.
• Pregnant? Here’s info on the unadjuvanted vaccine and why it’s so important to get the shot

We have a doctor’s appointment Thursday and will finally get this done and over with. I feel terrible admitting this, but I’ve also been subconsciously avoiding going because I’ll have both girls on my own. How have those of you with two done this? I figure I’ll have to get Lucy done first, ’cause I know Lucy will bolt once she sees Alice freak out. But then do I leave Lucy upset while Alice gets done? Do them both at once?

Help!

The Moms Fight the Flu blog tour is organized by Mom Central Canada to spread the word among Moms about the H1N1 virus & vaccine and what you should do if you think your child has the flu. By making sure Moms have access to reliable information we can help everyone stay healthier this season!

My friend Jodi had a beautiful baby boy this weekend named Gavin.

Jodi and I both studied journalism and were floormates at Ryerson, and have stayed close since. We don’t see each other much, but usually email once a month, and she is a regular reader of this site. For as long as I’ve known her, she was never sure she wanted children. So when she announced she was was pregnant, most of us were shocked and incredibly tickled. It’s been such a pleasure to watch her grow these past months.

Jodi’s husband Brad shared this photo on Facebook over the weekend, and it hasn’t strayed far from my mind since I saw it Sunday.

You all probably know that look as well as I do. That’s the first look of love when you hold your minutes-old baby in your arms. There is no duplicating it. There is no faking it. That is pure, raw love.

___

This morning as I tidied the house, I started absentmindedly sorting toys. Alice has started growing out of those soft, small stuffies and plastic rings, gravitating more towards larger, louder, more interactive toys. I’ve started a pile to sell/donate, and a pile to keep for family and friends’ babies.

The last time I packed toys away, I knew they would be played with again in our house. We knew we were not finished having kids, that there was one more wee McDougall-Foster to bring into this world.

But this time. Today. Today it slammed into me that we are done. Really, truly done. I will never be pregnant again. I will never breastfeed again. I will never carry a teeny being inside a pouch slung across my chest again. Those newborn coos and wails will never reverberate off our walls.

I will never have that look of new love again.

___

The Gentle Vasectomy Clinic called today. It’s been almost two weeks, and they have yet to receive Eric’s results. Receptionist Brian — who 11 weeks ago candidly demonstrated how to put a numbing patch on my husband’s testicles — is now on their trail.

We are anxious and excited.

___

My friend Carolyn once said when you are done having children, you must mourn for the babies you will never have. That always rang true, and I understood it from a practical level. But today the process has started.

I honestly do not want more kids. My capacity — emotionally, physically, financially — has been reached, good and bad. Our family feels right and complete.

And I’m OK with that.

But it doesn’t mean it can’t ache once in a while.

UPDATE: I’m positive Alice has the flu. She threw up last night, has been fevery, little appetite, body shakes. Poor wee thing. One molar is coming in, too. Let’s hope the flu starts and ends with her, though, and doesn’t spread to the rest of us. I’m feeling Lucy’s forehead every 5 minutes (she now ducks when she sees my lips moving in for the kiss/heat-sensing feel), and offering prayers to the Sick Gods to spare us.

Had to get Alice early from daycare this morning. She’s got a fever and a river of goo descending by the second from her nose.

The light is now glistening off of the bottom of Lucy’s nose as a cold settles in.

I knew when we hit week three of healthiness that something was going to hit — isn’t that always the way?

Posting will be light as I care for m’girls.

Care to share what you are asking for for Christmas? Or getting your kidlets?

We are walking home from daycare this afternoon. Alice is doing her pretend bad cough while Lucy mimicks her. It sounds like I’m pushing a pair of congested goats.

“Oh dear. I have two girls with bad coughs. I think we should amputate.”

“No, Mumma, don’t amputate!”

“Oh? How come?”

“Just amputate Alice. Amputate her head.”

They are both gone.

Lucy is at Julia’s all day today, Alice for the morning to get her Robeez wet with her new part-time faux mommy. Tomorrow and Friday they will both be there all day.

It’s so quiet here. The only noise is the hum of the computer, the rumble of the kettle as I prepare tea, and the whoosh of cars driving past my open front door.

I. love. it.

Yesterday I took Spencer Dog and both girls for an early morning walk. It was shortly after 8, and all around kids were darting past us on their way to school, excited and fresh and alive in the crisp air. The smaller kids in their too-big backpacks and deer-in-headlights look on their faces clutching their parents’ hands made me suddenly remember that next year THAT will be US.

(Did any of you go through the first day of school with your little ones yesterday? Or this week one day?)

Born in late February, I think Lucy could have gone to school this year; she will be among the oldest kids in her class. As it is, I’m a tad worried of her being, most days, the eldest by far at her home daycare. She is a smart girl, adaptable and socialble. But I feel like it’s our responsibility as parents to start preparing her for school…and that maybe a more structured, classroom-like setting with kids her age is better for this?

We’re not sure. But we’re talking a lot about it. Yesterday I called a local centre and left a message. Just as a fact-finding mission.

For now, for today, for these quiet few hours, I’m enjoying the peace only a quiet house brings.

I drove home from my parents’ this morning and noticed the leaves on the giant maple trees that line the road between our house and theirs are tipped in red and orange. Just a hint of colour, but enough to remind us all that fall is creeping in.

A friend this week said the fall feels like the start of a new year for her, and I could not agree more.

Lucy returns to daycare on Wednesday, and Alice joins her Thursday (more on this later). I have a new venture on the go that I hope will become The Job (along with this site and that one). Eric just marked his one year anniversary at work; he’s celebrating by getting his vasectomy next Friday.

All this to say our lives will soon have a semblance of normalacy, structure and rhythm again, and it cannot come soon enough. I have loved having these weeks (10 of them! TEN! 10! 10!) with my girls, but I am officially burnt out. I’m horribly unorganized, scatterbrained, 60+ emails deep in my inbox, full of ideas and blog posts but no energy or time to act on them, and I’m not joking when I say you don’t want to know how long it’s been since the upstairs bathroom was cleaned.

I’m edgy and jittery and grumpy. It’s starting to keep me up at night.

But we’re almost there.

We have a great weekend of family, friends and food planned to send off summer. Hope you do, too.