If They Don't Let You Go to Wales, Go Here Instead.

Cancun isn't a place I'd ever go to in real life. We got to have that once-in-a-lifetime experience of saying "anyplace but here" last week. It doesn't measure up to seeing so many of my favourite people in Wales, but it was still a beautiful, amazing place (with a million tourists). It was so unplanned that we had no expectations, we just went and hung out.

Our view from the plane

Noah's favourite place in Cancun

Noah's second most favourite place in Cancun

Although random trips out of country are not really my style, my hope for myself is that I be open to gifts that come my way, and not be too mathematical in my measuring of joy vs. sustainability. Trending towards frugality and sustainability, but finding joy (and not freaking out) at the unexpected.

The End of An Era: No More Pumping

I stopped pumping this week, and have my lunch breaks back. Woohoo! It just felt like the right time. And I really want to try biking the 4.5 miles to work, which is near impossible when pumping. If anyone needs moral support in pumping or figuring out pumping logistics, I'm available.

It never became comfortable to say to a colleague "uhh...sorry I need to go and pump" [pause][awkward silence][blank look] "uhh... breast milk." I felt like I was drawing attention to the fact that I had breasts. But pumping also helped me become a lot more assertive, because I had what I considered a responsibility to Noah, which trumped politeness. I was also fairly public about pumping because I work in public health and feel that if any profession should lead the way in supporting lactating moms, it's mine.

I never thought of the food implications of women returning to work before I had Noah, but I now think a lot about it. The choice is much more complex when I consider the importance of breastmilk in a baby's life. I wonder if the importance of breastmilk reflects the importance of presence and all these other things that first year (or two). Pumping is hard. For our family, it works to divide labor the way we do, and that involves me working full time right now. But I also mourned that I had to pump for all those months. It felt like a loss, and given the choice, I'd like to help support our family while staying close to my baby, if we get to do this again someday.

Now, to stop nursing Noah to sleep. Maybe when he's three...

And inspiration for those who don't feel served by conversation about pumping breastmilk:

We always need a little Michael Franti, right?

On (not) Going to Reunion

I had started to write a post about how much I loved AC, which I planned on finishing after reunion. Although we didn't get to go, I thought I'd still post something in hono(u)r of you all.

We got to the airport and I wasn't allowed to board because the special category of South Africans I thought I belonged to wasn't really special at all. And the agents on the U.S. side are crazy strict. They would not budge, even though I felt pretty sure that they would let me in at Heathrow. It felt silly that Noah-- who is me in the best sense of the word-- was free to travel with his blue passport, while I, with my green one, was not. Anyway. I'll leave my whining about borders and everyone living together as one for another post.

I had been gearing up for reunion for what seemed like forever: first, building up courage to ask Eug what he thought about going, particularly considering our year of crazy travel with Noah (14 flights so far--without hesitation, Eug said "sure!"). Second, finding the money to go. Third, finding the courage to request yet more time off work, and fourth, imagining seeing all the people I'd missed so much in the preceding years. Seriously, the last few months I sometimes just sat and thought of you. Embarrassing. I know you have your own stories of how you did or didn't get to go to reunion, too, so I don't mean to be over-dramatic.

I was looking forward to that atmosphere when we're all together as much as anything. When we're all together, I feel totally accepted, by those who knew me during my most ambitious and religious season.

I missed out on some years with my classmates because we are spread out and spending time together inevitably involves international travel. I got married early, got a job, and lived far from my family- meaning vacation time has always been spent visiting home. I also went through a phase where I felt pressure to turn every encounter into a religious experience for the person with me, which I have since found makes relationships feel forced and uncomfortable, and had me constantly trying to show that I have things a bit more figured out than my neighbor. So, that phase (hopefully) behind me, I was looking forward to just hearing how things were going for everyone- to laughing a lot and to reminiscing.

As we plan our move to South Africa in the coming months, I'm hoping it'll mean more visits (Cape Town is wonderful), and even if I don't see you, my life is still informed by our two years together, in big (knowing each of you, not working for large corporations or for money) and small (knowing quirky facts about friends' countries) ways.

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I'll write soon about our trip to Cancun, where we went after it was clear that Wales would not happen. Yes. Cancun. Strange times.