Packing up

I was originally supposed to pack up and leave to go home on Tuesday, but by Sunday I felt like I was just starting to get the hang of the vacation and Tuesday was coming too soon. So after a quick check of available flights, I called Westjet and switched to a Friday afternoon departure. Done. They didn't even charge me for the change!

So glad I stayed! The weather's been amazing, the boys have been super cute, we're really rocking the coffee-nap-beach-nap-pool-nap-supper-bed* routine. My mom has been ridiculously generous with her time, taking turns with Tim and Lucas so Julie and I can have small breaks from them. I've managed to go for several runs; today Julie and I went out and frolicked in the big waves of the ocean, like kids. It was awesome.

* This routine pretty much sums up what we've been up to each day. Although occasionally the boys just have two naps, and that, combined with the swimming and sun result in them going to bed around 6 pm... And up to play at 4:30 am. It's just a small glitch.

Also, Sweetie McPie is in China until Saturday night and I really wasn't relishing going home to an empty house. This way, when we get home there will be just one more sleep until Dad's home. (I have to admit I'm looking forward to spending a night in a QUEEN SIZED BED with Tim. The twin we're currently sharing is a bit... cozy.)

I'm been taking pictures like mad, but it's hard to catch the boys still. Especially Lucas -- Tim is more of a sitter; his cousin is constantly on the move. We did manage to catch them a few times today. Here, working together to try to get into the TV cabinet:

And all dressed up to go out for pizza and beer...

My sister is responsible for the matching outfits. It's not the only one they've worn this week.

Welcome to New Smyrna Beach

The shark bite capital of the world. No kidding.

But a lovely place nonetheless. Most importantly, it's warm. Well, it was yesterday and will be tomorrow. Today was chilly -- just the break in the sunny weather we needed for an excuse to go shopping. We shopped 'til we dropped, which wasn't actually that long but not bad for a couple of moms with their babies. Cross-border shopping out of the way, we can now get on with the vacay.

Yesterday we strolled on the beach, and I went for a dip in the ocean while Julie watched the sleeping babies in their strollers. The water was beautiful, though the surf was quite strong so I didn't go in far. (I'm all responsible about safety now, you know.) And I'm pleased to report that I did not get bitten by a shark. The pool was unheated and very cold, but we expect that to be remedied by tomorrow. There is a kiddie pool!

Also, I've been for a run already -- hopefully there are a few more to come. Discovered that running on a beach sucks. Even though the sand is firm, the slant of the ground is too much for the ankle. Guess I could've seen that one coming. Instead, I explored a nearby residential area.

Admittedly, it's pretty strange to be away from McPie and the kids. I'm pretty sure that this is the first time Tim has been apart from his Dad since he was born. Even with my mom and sister here to help (and help they do), I feel sort of oddly alone and bit anxious, I guess because I'm on my own for once as Tim's sole caregiver for the time being. But he's a great companion, and we're having a good time together. I'm even kind of not minding sleeping with him in a single bed (long story, and don't worry, the mattress is on the floor for safety).

Which is all good, because when we get home next week, Dad will be in China, and we won't see him for another four days. Yikes! I hope Tim is ready to take on the role of "man of the house."

Working in the workouts

I may have mentioned this before, but I realized in the first couple of months after Tim was born that "baby weight" probably actually refers to the weight you gain AFTER you have a baby, caused by not having the time or energy to exercise, and being stuck at home and prone to snacking. Luckily for me, Sweetie McPie took a leave from work just in time to help me get off the baby weight path, and back into a habit of regular activity. It was easy with two parents at home.

Then, when McPie headed back to work in September, I knew it was going to be challenging to keep up the workout regimen that we'd developed over the summer. Not only would I not have a co-parent, but I'd lose my workout partner. Not to mention that many of our workouts consists of hauling weights and other equipment out to the backyard, and the increasing cold weather was going to prevent that soon.

So I set a modest goal of "four workouts per week". No specifics on what the workout needed to consist of -- it could be anything that either made me a little stronger or got my heart rate up (ie: walking doesn't really count, even though I'm doing a ton of it these days.)

I've actually been doing pretty well at achieving my weekly goal. It's helped that we played frisbee up until last week, Sundays and Wednesdays. So I really only had to worry about two other days. (Technically, McPie and I were alternating Wednesday games, but he gave most of his to me, to give methe opportunity to get out of the house.)

For those two other days, I had to get a little creative. I did a few stroller-runs, which are quite awkward but did the trick. (Tim only barfed from motion-sickness once.) A couple of times I was able to lift weights in the living room while Tim napped. Constance helped occasionally after school, keeping Tim while I ran madly around the block. And when nothing else worked, I just held him in my arms while I did squats, and laid him on the floor under me while I did push-ups. These were Tim's favourite workouts -- he loved the up-and-down of the squats, and giggled like made and grabbed my hair when I lowered myself into the push-up.

Now, frisbee is over until spring, so we must hatch other plans. Last night, McPie came home and sent me on a 5K run. I was a km or two into the run when I realized how long it's been that I did a night-time winter run (years -- I was pregnant this time last year). Sticking to my planned route led me down the path beside an unlit parkway... and here I am wearing completely head-to-toe black. I was like a ninja, only at half-speed. I had to keep my eye on the yellow line of the bike path to see where I was going; not only was it very dark, but I wasn't wearing my glasses (not usually a problem in daylight!)

Ah well. The run was a success, and I expect that I'll be able to do an after-work run weekly. Later in the evening, I was complaining about how stiff I was from workouts earlier in the week, and McPie suggested I find a late-night yoga class that I could sneak out to weekly after everyone was in bed. It took a bit of surfing, but I found this. A 9:00 pm class is perfect! I plan to sign up when I get back from Florida, where I'm heading next week.

So, yoga, a run, and surely I can fit something in on a weekend day when everyone else is around to help... That leaves just one or two days during the week when I'll need to fit Tim into my regimen. I'm all set for the winter, and I'm saving plenty of $$ since I let my gym membership lapse last month.

Did I mention the vacation we're about to embark on? Tim and I are flying down to Florida and meeting up with my sister and nephew, and my mom (Baba Jr) for a week of baby fun in the sun. We're staying in some condos on the beach (the ocean side), with some family friends that we never get to see. Friends -- sisters -- we've known all our lives who also happen to have new babies. I think the condos have wi-fi, so I'll be sure to post updates. Check here for maximum cuteness. (Plus, my mom will be babysitting, so I'm planning some warm weather workouts!)

Little Andy

Mostly we skipped Halloween this year. The kids were at their Moms', so we just gave out candy to neighbourhood kiddies (and luckily had none left over).

Although too little for trick-or-treating, Tim did get into the spirit of dressing up. His taste in disguise was a little more sophisticated than we expected:

I am free!

It would be more precise to say: I am mobile. I finally got a membership with CommunAuto (the Quebec version of VirtuCar).

When I left work over a year ago, I meant to sign up. But I never got around it; there was plenty of stuff to do around the neighbourhood and at home, and I could easily take the bus when I needed to go further afield. And even when Tim was new, it was a big enough deal to get to the grocery store.

But after a summer of traveling and getting out and about, now that Tim is older and curious (yet difficult to take on a bus), I am getting restless and need more to do. Enter car-sharing.

It's awesome. There shared cars parked in a few different places nearby. I can pop the carseat right on the stroller base to take Tim to the car. The world is suddenly our oyster! We've only been on a few independent outings so far. Today, we applied for our passports -- a renewal for me, and a brand-spanking new one for Tim. Good times. We are slowly branching out, and will start to maybe even socialize!

To start, we have plans in the next few weeks to start a new routine: weekly lunches in Kanata with Dad.

Missed another anniversary

When les Mamans asked us if we could take the kids for a Saturday night so they could celebrate their first wedding anniversary, Sweetie McPie and I realized that we'd completely forgotten about our own wedding anniversary, which had passed a few days before that. (This was back at the beginning of August.)

Oh well! we shrugged. Luckily, we find a reason to celebrate on most days, so we probably celebrated something that day (it was a Monday, but that is no impediment), and now we had an excuse to set aside some day in the future for an extra-special celebration.

So, about three weeks ago (August 29th, specifically) was my anniversary of Not Working For The Man.

Oh, how much do I *not* miss going to the office everyday? How much do I *not* miss technical writing? (Those are rhetorical questions, but you knew that already.)

In fact, it occured to me that I should maybe now update my profile to remove the "non-aspiring tech writer part". (I could also maybe add in something about "mom" and change "apprentice knitter" to "wish I were knitting"...)

I have been lucky enough to enjoy a few "professional" (if not necessarily paid) projects over the past year -- the editing, the interview and profile writing -- and I'm looking forward to doing more of the same in the coming months. In fact, I'm almost starting to look forward to the time when Tim's old enough to maybe be taken care of by someone else (aka "daycare") for a day or two so I can dedicate some time to actual work. But I'm not in a super-hurry for that. And I count my lucky stars every day that I don't have a deadline for deciding.

What I will dare to say is, I don't think I'll be going back to an office in the forseeable future. If at all. Really maybe never.

I think that's something to celebrate.

Whiling away

So, the Bible Study is proceeding, um, very slowly. I've read the introduction to the Pentateuch, skipped the first creation story (because, it turns out, it's pretty familiar), and am up to the part in the second creation story where the Subtle Serpent is sweet-talking the natives. (Also very familiar.)

That's not to say I'm not getting any reading done these days. I'm just a bit scattered. Besides the Bible in the bathroom. I've got Love in the Time of Cholera in the stroller for my morning reads while Tim sleeps; there's Why Gender Matters by the nursing pillow to read while feeding; Eats, Shoots and Leaves is on the bedside table, and up until this past weekend's book club meeting, I had an online version of Gertrude Stein's Three Lives up on my laptop for fly-by skimming. (NB: Do NOT ever attempt to read Three Lives. It is terrible. I assume it's only in print because it's Gertrude Stein. I can only guess that her non-fiction -- which I haven't read -- is more intelligent and engaging. These novellas are pretty much the worst published document I've laid eyes on.)

I need to add Frankenstein to this line-up (again for book club), but I've found an audio version that might do the trick for when I'm puttering around and can't sit (or stand still) to read.

Ya do what ya can.

With luck, I may finish the lot by Halloween... At which point I have a loverly new hardcover copy of the new Alice Munro to dive into. Yay!

Meanwhile, my sister and nephew are visiting for the week, and we are doing not much of anything other than childcare. But it's more interesting with company, I can assure you. The boys are quite hilarious together -- aware of each others' presence when placed in proximity to each other, but not quite sure what to do with each other. Other that grab at each other's faces. I will post pictures as soon as I can.

And it's not even Lent

I'm thinking about maybe reading the Bible.

In my first year of university, one of my English Lit profs -- an stodgy old fart who claimed that English literature went downhill after Alexander Pope -- gave the class a list of all the works that we needed to read if we wanted to consider ourselves true literature academics. The Bible was at the top of that list. (There were also many Greek and Roman philosophers/poets there.)

To be honest, I don't think I did much of the reading for that class (Aristotle, Virgil, Cicero, Homer -- are you kidding me?), let alone the rest of the classics he recommended. I've been a pretty poor student of literature in that way; I've lost track of the Dickens I've abandoned partway through. It occurs to me that that paper I wrote in grad school on Paradise Lost may have been easier to accomplish if I've been more familiar with the reference text...

But ever since I visited Israel (years and years ago), and used the New Testament as a tour guide through Nazareth, Galilee, Jerusalem, and Bethlehem, I've been pretty interested in the historical context of both the event described in the Bible, and the writing of it (the events and the writing being separated by hundreds of years, of course). I figure if I want to learn more about the context (partly so I can argue my case for my agnosticism), I should be familiar with the text itself. Also, it does figure pretty huge in much English literature old and contemporary, so it feeds the geek in me.

So, I've replaced Jack Newman's Guide to Breastfeeding with the New Jerusalem Bible beside the toilet upstairs. I figure that since I managed to scour Dr. Newman's book cover to cover over the past six months just by keeping it by the toilet (and I didn't even have any breastfeeding issues that needed attending to; it was just there), it's a good place to put the Bible to ensure I actually delve into it.

(We also now have a copy of the Tao Te Ching there, for when spiritual needs are more pressing than literary geekiness.)

I'll try to remember to post my progress in this endeavour. If I make any.

Christmas is over

Well, Sweetie McPie has returned to a workaday routine, and Tim and I are on Day 3 of Home Alone: Post Christmas Blues.

But we're not blue! While we'd prefer Dad to be home with us all day, everyday, ad infinitum, we managing famously with the situation, as dealt. We are also buoyed by the fact that Dad seems to have interesting stuff to look forward to at work. And we are all strengthened by our experience this summer as a together-family.

It was a busy summer, full of travel, frisbee, and projects around the house (we rebuilt the front stairs and walkway, redecorated Constance's bedroom, and built a deck for les Mamans). Finally, in the last week or so before the Return to Work, we settled down into true Vacation territory, and began to establish a nice domestic routine. It involved plenty of strolling, some working out, playing on blankets, and delicious suppers. And plenty of this:


This routine has been serving Tim and I well this week so far. We all wake up around the same time, and enjoy a morning together with diaper changes, breakfast for all, and coffee for parents. When Dad leaves for work, Mom and Tim go for a stroll, wherein Tim sleeps and Mom parks herself in a nearby park and reads. There is playtime with Tim on the floor, chore time with Tim in the wrap (on Mom), and then more stroller-time to mellow Tim out so Mom can have a workout. Of some sort.

Details, details. Suffice to say, it's all going rather smoothly, and Tim is a charming fellow who wins my heart daily.

I do have to say, the summer of Dad being home was an incredible gift -- one that I think we'll all find to be quite lasting. It's the topic of another post (one that I doubt I'll get around to), to explain how sharing the reigns for a few months will help us be better parents together, and help me to give up control in the best possible way. (For the record, I believe that new moms, by definition, are control freaks. It's sort of necessary, but also sort of a result of how families tend to work these days...) And I haven't even gotten to reconnecting as a couple... A whole other topic!

Anyway, the fall of 2009 promises to have new and exciting adventures - travel, food, writing, some serious cuteness, and possibly even some air guitar.

A holy cave

The other day I ran out of memory on the disk in our camera, so I popped it into the computer to clean it out. It had pictures and videos from the past year. I was surprised to discover a series of three video files documenting the actual birth of Timothy. There I was, up close and personal, delivering Tim. I assume the second midwife took the footage, because McPie was there holding my head/hands, and Nadia's gloved ones hovered occasionally, checking heartrates and whatnot. (When I showed it to McPie, it was new as well because it was taken from, er, the opposite angle.)

I wouldn't have thought I'd have wanted that event videotaped. But I am so glad to have it. My memory of the event is so limited -- limited to about a six inch radius around my head (visually), and the completely primeval instincts that made my body go. I've been creating "memories" based on McPie's recollections of it, but my own recollection consists of just sensory perceptions.

On reviewing the footage, one of the things that strikes me about the event is the serenity of it. The room is darkened, I'm relaxing (er, "relaxing") in a large tub of water. There is minimal speaking; when there is talk, it is a calm murmuring. At a certain point, Tim's head is completely exposed, and we are all just relaxing quietly, waiting for the final contraction that will expel the rest of his body from mine. When it happens, he is suddenly wholly in the world, and instantly slid into my arms. (And I say, totally stunned, "It's a baby!" Like I was expecting some other conclusion to my trial?) The video ends with the yet unnamed "Mister Little Baby" still in my arms... where he stayed until it was time to deliver his placenta. At which point the midwives bade McPie to take off his shirt, so that MLB could be transferred to his arms without missing out on any skin-to-skin contact. It was hours later that Nadia returned to weigh the baby, and check him out (other than the initial Apgar, which was performed while I held him in the water).

I am reminded how lucky we were, to have the experience of delivering Tim in what McPie says felt like a "holy cave". No bright lights, no extra voices, no hands whisking him away for "medical" stuff.

And I'm completely amazed at how this:

Suddenly became this.

And in a blink of an eye, I'll be posting a picture of him walking to school on his first day...

Zen and the art of sleep management

I have decided to find a sense of zen when it comes to Timothy's sleeping patterns. (As much as one can "decide" to be zen.) It occurred to me today. There are endless "sleep solution" books out there, each proclaiming to have THE answer to you baby's inability to sleep (or more likely, the books would have it, your inability to get your baby to sleep).

Sleep solutions, I have decided, are like religions. The followers of each believe that their way is THE way. Well, I've opted out of religion, so I'm opting out of solving Tim's sleep, too. So there.

Which isn't to say I'm not going to try hard to get Tim to nap, or go to bed at a decent hour, or sleep as much as possible in the night. Of course we'll do that; it's common sense. Common sense! What a concept! I got a piece of advice about baby sleep early on from a good friend, which basically boils down to: put him to bed when he's tired; if he cries, pick him up to reassure him that it's okay, but then put him back down. And repeat until he gets used to just falling asleep on the first go. Kinda makes sense, huh? Like, common sense? Yet at the time, it kind of sounded like rocket science to me, because it's so simple. And I'd been prepared for "getting baby to sleep" to actually be about as complex as rocket science. At any rate, this is the advice I have used, and it works (as much as anything baby-related works). Thank you, Trix!

(Turns out, having flipped through a few "sleep solution" guides, this is the sort information they are providing. With a lot of marketing spin.)

Anyway, I'm going to be thinking more of Tim as a person rather than something to be managed. (Granted, a person who's not very good at acting on his fatigue.) If he gets hungry in the night, I'll feed him. If he needs to be attached to me in order to get the nap he needs during the day, I'll put him in the wrap. He's going to be beyond the baby stage, beyond the napping stage, so soon that I won't even remember what sort of sleep solution worked for us.

But anyway, when you're this cute after waking up from a nap, who cares if the nap was only 20 minutes long?


I should note that I can say all this because I'm not sleep deprived any more. Relatively speaking, anyway. I get up once or twice in the night with Tim, and it doesn't seem to affect my day. So whatever is it we're doing -- even if the baby isn't sleeping from seven to seven each night -- is probably good enough for us.

I should also note that the thoughts described in this post were triggered by an encounter with a mom (of a little one almost exactly Tim's age, also her firstborn) who knew exactly what I should do to get my kid to do what her kid is doing, and told me so (on feeding, sleep solving, losing the babyweight, the whole deal). Grrr. Arrgh. I was so bugged. And even more so because I thought of all my comebacks later (while I was running circles around her on the frisbee field. Ha.)

Final note: if I've ever said anything to a mom that indicated -- in words or tone -- that I knew better, or disapproved of your way, or anything of the sort, I sincerely apologize and promise to try to never do it again. This shit is personal!

Diva of distinction

The profile of Meagan McGrath and accompanying video interview is up on the Diva Foundation web site. Read it here!

My first interview experience... only slightly awkward, and made less so by the expert editing of Darren, who I look forward to collaborating with in the future!

Did I mention how much I enjoyed writing something that was non-technical and non-academic and not-about-me? I'm looking forward to the next one (I don't actually know who the next Diva of Distinction will be. Any suggestions?)

Dispatches from a hotel room

It's a suite, actually, and very comfy at that. We realized that Winnipeg then (2005) and now is the only Nationals where we've stayed in a hotel room, as opposed to some sort of dorm. This is very civilized.

Tim is currently behaving in a manner unusual for him but common to babies: he is napping. (Though now that I've written that, he's bound to wake up.) I've finished coffee and am on to breakfast. McPie is at the fields for an early morning game, though like yesterday and most of the day before, he's just shouting orders from the sidelines. He expects his knee will recover in time, as it did when he originally injured it. He promises to go for a REAL assessment (hopefully involving MRI technology), but doesn't think anything is torn -- just twisted and swollen. (No pain now, just stiffness.)

Anyway, it's a huge bummer for him to not play, but vacation-wise, the trip to Winnipeg has been very nice. I personally quite enjoy watching frisbee, and although a bit on the hot side, the weather's been nice. We've taken Tim to both the Keg and to Indian buffet for dinner, and he was a champ both times (ie: fell asleep quickly). He's also renowned in the hotel as the kid who's stroller takes up all the space in the teeny-tiny elevators. No seriously, the front desk staff have been pass the word about "the cute baby in 1609". That's my boy!

I also scored a bottle of 2004 Clos Jordanne pinot noir, which may not sound like much to you, but is my all-time favourite wine and it totally sold out in Ontario two years ago. (When it was released, we got like the last two bottles in the province except for the stash up in Timmins). The wine store here only had the one bottle of 2004, the rest were 2006 which is kind of splitting hairs except that I'm a total geek about this particular wine. (I did try the 2006 - it was a Christmas gift from McPie and served as my "post-pregnancy celebration" wine.) So, yay wine in Winnipeg!

And happily for at least me, the night-time thunderstorms have rendered the fields sloppy enough to cancel some of the games, including the rest that McPie was scheduled to "play" today (because they are in the bottom half in their division -- and I think they'd be in the top half if he hadn't been injured, but this is about silver linings, right?) So he'll be home early from the fields and we can do more touristing.


Here, Tim enjoys a Long Island iced tea and some nachos and artichoke dip at The Forks.

Here we are in Winnipeg

Hey look, I'm liveblogging! Sort of.

Sweetie McPie and I are in our suite in a hotel in Winnipeg, drinking just-barely-procured pinot noir, watching Roman Holiday on the tube while Tim sleeps in the crib a few feet away.

It was a lucky trip. A delayed flight meant we'd miss our connection in Toronto, but we managed to get on a slightly later but direct flight. Yay! Tim was a party animal the whole way, fighting sleep like crazy. We arrived at our hotel just in time to get directions and scurry to the wine shop at The Forks -- we got there as the proprietor was counting his cash, but he helped us pick a couple of bottles. Phewf. Just in time.

We were starving as we made our way back to the hotel, so even though it was like 10:30 our time, we stopped at VJ's Drivethrough for some VJ's Special Burgers. But back in our suite, Tim showed no sign of slowing down, and the burgers were way too saucy to eat with babe in arms. So we put in in the crib while we munched. He partied his ass off for about 15 minutes... and then silence. Totally conked out, with both feet sticking out through the bars of the crib, and oblivious to Roman Holiday.

In fact, I think I may have lost McPie to the same fate. (I'm keeping a close eye on his glass of wine which he's still holding. It may topple at any moment.)

Oh yes. Winnipeg. Canadian Ultimate Championships. I'm not playing this year, of course, just tagging along to cheer the fella on.

Adventure Girl

Meagan McGrath: check her out.

I had the privilege of interviewing Meagan this week. I'm writing a profile on her for the DIVA Foundation.

Meagan was amazing to talk to: she's so enthusiastic and friendly. Not to mention inspiring! Interestingly, one thing I asked about was her advice to people who want to try something new but aren't sure they are capable. (You can read my profile next week to get her answer. I'll post the link. It will include video footage of the interview -- eep!) And doing an interview and taking on a non-technical writing project was, for me, something new that I wasn't sure I was capable of. And I did it! Coincidence or karma?

Milestones

Many people told me that caring for a baby becomes suddenly and immensely easier when the baby reaches three months. For us, three months coincided with the beginning of McPie's parental leave, so it's hard to say if Timothy's age has had anything to do with the fact that having an infant as become less of a slog. Splitting the work, naturally, makes a colossal difference. However, in the past few weeks, since we passed the three month milestone, Timothy has undergone some changes and realized some growth achievements that make him way more fun and interesting:

He discovered his hands. It is so much fun to watch him try to manipulate anything that he can grab. He loves to work a blanket, but has become particularly interested in beverages that Mama or Dad are holding. (Unfortunately, getting the hands also spelled the end of swaddling, but he's sleeping better so it sort of works out...)

He can sit up with support. This gives us new options for hanging out (it also is an indicator of his newfound sturdiness -- we no longer have to worry so much about constantly supporting his head.) Suppers are easier because he can just sit comfortably on a parent's lap while we eat.

He's sleeping in his crib (in his own bedroom). I still get up to feed him a couple of times a night, but his thrashing and rolling doesn't keep us awake. The transition to crib was pretty seamless. He's also started napping in his crib for an appreciable amount of time (like, at least 1/2 and hour).

(Photo is apropos of nothing other than it is hilarious. Kid's got a sense of humor.)

He laughs like crazy a) when Dad eats him like a cob of corn, b) during the "Boo!" game, c) after a good meal, or d) because he's happy to see us.


In general, the summer so far has been heavenly -- relaxed, fun, with plenty of morning lattés and afternoon Coronas. And frisbee baths. (We are thinking of upgrading to a real kiddie pool soon.)


We are enjoying Tim, Ben and Constance to the max, but have managed to find some space for ourselves as well. We have some fun activities planned for the next few weeks -- a couple of frisbee tournaments, a trip to Winnipeg (for frisbee Nationals, of course!), and lots of afternoons at the local public outdoor pool.

Eggs Kenny

Sweetie McPie made me a special treat for breakfast this morning. He christened it Eggs Kenny:
Sliced tomatoes lightly breaded and fried, topped with sunny-side up eggs, then drowned in last night's soy-lemon chicken gravy. (Without the tomatoes, this dish is known as "cradle-to-grave".)

Lucy Waverman's soy-lemon gravy is To Die For. We've been known to do shots with the leftovers, before we discovered it was great over eggs. (You think I'm kidding?) So simple and quick, but so very incredible you have to try it to believe it. Drippings from roast chicken (we use organic legs from former residents of Saveur des Monts), a cup of chicken broth, a tablespoon (or so) of soy sauce, one or two tablespoon of fresh-squeezed lemon juice... simmered together and thickened with a little cornstarch.

Here I am!

Back at home after an almost-two-week vacay, plus the busy-ness that leads up to and concludes such a trip. So much to say, such a small window of time in which to say it (plus I haven't had breakfast yet and am starving, but Tim sleeps NOW).

I'll work backwards.

Yesterday [Okay, two days ago, because it's taken me multiple days to write this post; now typing one-handed with baby on lap], Tim (at nearly 3.5 months) had his 2 month vaccination shots. (Oops. My bad.) Poor little sucker. Dosed with Tylenol, he slept a lot in the afternoon, and I went happily off to frisbee. And returned to a Dad harried by a baby who'd been SCREAMING for 2.5 hours. (Tim isn't a huge crier, and very rarely SCREAMS.) Next month when he gets his 4 month shots, I will be sure to stay home. He seemed soothed by the boob. (But who wouldn't be?)

Our trip to Nova Scotia was a grand success. We stayed with my sister and helped her prep for her wedding. The wedding was good times -- I narrated the handfasting ceremony and delivered the matron of honour speech (which drew the requisite tears) with next-to-nil prep. Tim wore a tux to match his cousin Lucas and looked tres handsome.


The boys were extremely well-behaved. Here they are with Dad and Grandpa Tim.


My sister had copies of Secrets of the Baby Whisperer and The No-Cry Sleep Solution and I "read" (ie: scanned) both. They say about the same thing, but with a slightly different tone (militant vs. motherly). I learned that we are pretty much on track with baby-sleeping, and picked up a few tips that have been helping. Thus the blogging!

Ben and Constance joined us after the wedding, and we spent the better part of the week at the Farmhouse Inn, enjoying a lobster dinner, a trip to the Zoo, and an amazing day at the Beach with Aunt Julie, Uncle Scott, Grandpa and Linda. I think it's fair to say that the rented minivan with DVD player and TV screens was the highlight of their trip. at various times, each of the kids was heard to say "This was the best day of my life!" That says "success" to me. :-)


On the trip home to Ottawa, we stopped for lunch in Lunenburg on the way to the airport. Tim hadn't had his daily poo and was getting a bit fussy. McPie predicted that Tim would shit himself silly on the plane. Famous last words. Shit he did -- what I call a "shoulder-shit". And we were on a tiny Porter Air turbo-prop with no change area. (We'd been invited to try changing him where ever we like, with the indication that our seat-trays would be ideal.) Ha! McPie scoped the bathroom, and successfully completed a McGyver-like diaper change on the toilet seat. Although both fellas were somewhat traumatized bt the experience, McPie now brags about being able to apply a fresh onesie with one hand.

We arrived home Sunday night after the grocery store closed and we A) hadn't eaten supper and were all starving, and B) had NO food in the house. So we stopped at the Depanneur and did our best -- Special K, milk, cheese curds, and pineapple juice. At home, in front of his 10 pm bowl of cereal, Ben put his head in his hands and exclaimed, "Oh my god. This is the baddest supper we ever had!"

We've been to one grocery store pretty much every day since we got back.

Return to form

I'm enjoying, lately, a renewed enjoyment of vices of yesteryear: coffee and beer. Don't worry, I'm not the worst mother in the world. The coffee is primarily decaf (also organic and fair trade), and I only have one beer a day. But oh! The enjoyment! I normally have a latte first thing in the morning, but have added an extra one (either latte or brew in the coffee press) after McPie leaves for work. It accompanies me while either pumping breastmilk (if Tim is napping or calm in his chair -- I wonder if he's jealous when he watches me pump?), or changing diapers, or on a video skype call with my sister.

We never used to drink much beer around here; we are wine drinkers, with the odd beer after frisbee or while doing yardwork in the summer. But now, each day around 4 o'clock or so, I get the craving. Just one refreshing brewsky while I bounce the baby on the ball while watching Angel on DVD with the kids, or folding laundry or prepping supper... (Did I just write "brewsky?") The beer signals the end of the alone part of the day, and begins the family part of the day and the anticipation Dad coming home.

It's true, I drink alcohol while nursing. My mom tells me that she was told to drink beer while nursing my sister, to help with milk production and flow. While this may be another outdated axiom of the previous generation (like "crying is good for their lungs")... This one I like, so I'll take it as mother's wisdom.

Anyway, these are a few little pleasures that help perk up the sometimes-tedious days, when I'm not getting an enormous kick out of diaper changes*. (There is also streaming video of Grey's Anatomy re-runs, which make me glad I spent years not watching TV -- now I have something to do while folding laundry or cajoling the baby into a nap!)

Timothy, too, has a newfound simple pleasure. He's finally old enough to be fascinated by the lights and sounds of his swing!



*I'm actually serious about getting a kick out of diaper changes. There's not much cuter or sweeter than a naked baby, and Timothy LOVES his change table. It's the one place he can be counted on to laugh and "chat" and be generally playful. We spend a lot of time there.

Working out the kinks

If I'd written this on the weekend, I'd have written about how the baby is finally starting to sleep well-ish at night... Not a lot at a stretch (cause he still has a tiny tummy that needs refilling regularly), but awake less and less in between sleeps. However, he woke up every g-d hour last night. As if he needs a growth spurt (he's getting huge, quickly.)

Anyway, the overall trend is for the better, and of course we're learning to live more easily with his schedule. He naps a lot in his wrap, and thanks to the glorious art of swadddling, brought to us this past week by Tim's Baba (my mom), he's now able to sleep on his own beside our bed (yay for space to sprawl!), and we have had some growing success at putting him down in his bassinet for naps. Yay for naps! He napped the whole time that I was at the gym yesterday. Also, he's more and more content to sit for extended quiet times in his bouncy chair (like 15 minutes!) without having to be asleep, thus enabling me to do such exciting things as shower, put laundry in the dryer, or fix a cup of coffee. Mmm, coffee.


See? Even Timothy thinks he's a superstar, with all his new tricks.


My mom's visit this week was not unlike a tropical vacation in that it allowed me to relax and unwind in a way that I can barely remember being able to do! An extra set of hands -- hands that wanted nothing more than to hold a baby -- made a world of difference. Which makes me all the more excited for the coming summer.

Awhile ago, I wrote that waiting for the baby was like waiting for Santa to come. Now, I'm waiting for another Christmas Eve-type event, only this time, I know the day. July 26 is Sweetie McPie's last day of work until Labour Day! It's true, we get to do this summer together, two parents, four hands, no work, all play. Just because. Timothy is going to learn the fine art of morning coffee on the front porch, afternoon workouts in the park, and relaxed suppers on the patio. All stress-free. How awesome is that?

Night and day

In the night, Timothy sleeps in bed beside me. (Very cozy!) True to the parenting books, I am able to somehow sense when he's about to wake up, and usually wake up just before him. He wakes up making the cutest little sucking movements with his mouth as he stirs -- he's ready to eat before he's fully awake. I'm now able to get him feeding before he even opens his eyes. In the last couple days, I've opted to not get him up for a diaper change, which is beginning to let me put him right back to sleep afterward the snack. And quicker back to sleep for me.

During the day, Timothy has a similar sleep synchronicity with me... unfortunately, it works in reverse. When he's drifted to sleep and I lay down to nap with him, he has the innate ability to sense when I'm about to drift off -- at which point he wakes up and gurgles (or cries) for attention. I could be lying awake for half and hour or 5 minutes, it doesn't matter: as soon as the drift begins, up he wakes.

As a result, I don't get many naps. Maybe once or twice a week. Which sucks when your night sleeps occur in only two or three rounds of two hours at a time. (We've had a few three hour stints, but they are still inconsistent.)

On the other hand, Tim consistently conks out when I put him in my Moby wrap, so he at least gets his naps in, and I get the freedom that comes from baby-napping. The only things I can't really do when he sleeps is nap myself, and shower.

The other morning, though, I slid out of bed and left him sleeping:

Heslept in long enough for me to make my coffe in peace.

Sigh. One day, I'll have something more (and more interesting) to write about. But this is all the news these days...

My tax dollars at work

I've written before about my positive experiences with the civil services in Quebec. It turns out that the goodness of this province extends to the administrative elements of having baby. Now, I have no idea what to expect -- perhaps it's exactly the same in the rest of the country, but I have been very impressed with how streamlined much of this process has been. A process that I assumed would have me running around to government offices, waiting in lines, paying all sorts of admin fees.

So far, I've declared Tim's birth, received a birth certificate and health card, and registered for a child tax benefit ($$ deposited monthly in my bank account!) with a lick of a stamp and few mouse clicks. I didn't have to look anything up -- all the info I needed was provided to me by either the midwives (a government service), or just out of the blue in the mail from the government itself. Cool, huh? Not to mention that every services comes with an English translation.

But the big (giant!) surprise bonus of living in Quebec has been qualifying for maternity/parental benefits. I am not even kidding. After quitting my job 7 months before having a baby, the government of Quebec STILL considers me eligible for a year-long maternity "leave".* And Quebec pays better than the Feds.

So, besides the lower cost of housing, groceries and beer, there are all these additional bonuses, and one day, I will reap the further benefit of subsidized daycare. I tell ya, do not listen to anyone who gripes about having to pay higher taxes in la Belle Province. It's money well-spent.

Timothy approves!

Once word gets out, I am certain that Hull will become the next Westboro. ;-)

* A few years ago, Quebec won the right from the Federal government to administer it's own Parental Insurance Program. Awesome.

Where the day goes

Darned if I know how time flies. The days seem so short these days! I'd have thought they'd seem slow because of the repetitive nature of my activities. Or may maybe it's the sleep deprivation factor (we got three hours in a row last night for the first time! Go Tim!) At any rate, the hours of May are certainly fleeting -- so fast that I can rarely string together enough free ones to write things here.

And... I hear the soft grunts and sighs of a waking infant. So much for an update.

Okay, quickie before all-out wailing begins (Am I a bad mother?):

Getting to the gym a couple times a week thanks to a husband who'll put up with a suddenly starving and crying baby. I've started bottling my milk, though, so McPie now has some heavy artillery.

Frisbee starts tonight. As there will be running involved, it remains to be seen whether I will survive to tell about it!

Tim's starting to adapt little by little to sleeping in a bassinet (part of the night, some nights), and his crib (naps or just chillin' during the day). These baby steps (ha ha) will eventually lead us into a life of increased sanity. He is pretty cozy to sleep with, though.

Kid loves the bath. We'll probably get around to giving him more than one/week soon.

He loves his mama, too!

Tricky kid eludes decoding

It seems like it should be so simple: feed the baby, burp the baby, change the baby's diapers, and enjoy the happy baby.

Ha! Ha ha ha ha!

It's trickier than I'd have thought (but many people could have told me) to achieve the trifecta of fed-gasless-and-dry. We spend so many hours cycling through the basics chasing synchronicity. And then collapse in exhaustion on the never-made bed. (McPie says the bed is no longer simply a bed; it has become a habitat.)

And then there's the barely decipherable shriek of Mama-you're-not-loving-me-enough! Cuddle me MORE! Which is actually code for I need Dad.

I may have the liquid gold that gets him through the day, but Dad? He's the baby whisperer.

* Note the DIY diaper cover in the photo! Wool soaker fits like a glove and works like a charm. Here's a closer look (aka: excuse to add another photo of cute baby.)

On losing the "baby weight"

I'm itching to get to the gym again, partly because I feel very hale and hearty (hardy?) (but dont' worry, I'm not going to overdo anything, and probably won't get in a workout for weeks anyway), but mainly because I want to weigh myself. I don't have a scale here, and always used the gym scale to track my weight gain through pregnancy. (About 30 pounds, for the record.) I'm extremely curious about how much weight I've lost -- through delivery, and over the past 1. 5 weeks.

I've been for a couple of walks with Timothy in the buggy (to the grocery store today!), and it's AWESOME to be able to walk at whatever pace I want without waddling, without backache, without wanting to lie down on the curb and have a nap. I feel light as a feather!

My post-baby belly has a fascinating squishy texture which I'm slightly obsessed with. But it's shrinking daily -- McPie and I snapped a picture last night (or the night before?) in order to capture it before it was gone completely.

They say that breastfeeding moms shed the "baby weight" really quickly, because you really do need to eat for two, what with manufacturing the entire diet for another whole person. In my opinion and now experience, breastfeeding women probably lose the babyweight quickly because when the f--- are we supposed EAT? Baby's needs are so very pressing: "Food: NOW". "Crappy diaper: NOW PLEASE!" "Food food food!!!! NOW NOW NOW!!!"

They really don't take "excuse me for a moment, I need to shove a peanut butter spoon in my mouth so I don't die" very well. Tim and I are working on that bit of etiquette.

So anyway, I managed to finally get Timothy strapped into the moby and settled for lunch by 2:30 today, at which point I made and inhaled an avocado sandwich... accompanied by a glass of wine because oh my god do I ever deserve it.

Cheers!

Yes, I have bad hair, but it's CLEAN bad hair. Best I could manage -- a shower, if not a blow-dry. Also, I dressed Timothy in an over-the-head number today... and it wasn't that hard. So our wardrobe possibilities have opened up considerably.

Starting fresh, with a spring-like aroma

If I keep thinking I'm going to write a big update post with all the big news in it, I'll never ever write on this blog again!

So I'll start with today, and catch up if I can.

The turning point: Timothy Davis*, born on April 6 -- eight days ago. Today, I left the house for the first time since then. I drove my mom to the airport, leaving Timothy at home with Sweetie McPie. I returned just in time to join him, Constance and the baby on their first walk. We walked over to the school to pick up Ben. (Constance had been home in the afternoon, not feeling well.) It's the first beautiful spring day since Timothy's birth, and the week looks like it will entice me out each day for the rest of the week.

Also, it seems that a buggy-ride might be just the thing for a fussy baby. Not that T's particularly fussy. Just, I've been reticent about taking him out and getting in over my head away from home. Turns out, I likely needn't worry, and in fact may come to depend on the stroller! He was a bit fussy before the walk, but conked out completely the moment the rubber hit the road. And has been fast asleep in the bassinet (detachable from the carriage), ever since (about 40 minutes now).

Also! I put on non-maternity, non-stretchy pants today. (Not my favourite jeans yet, but soon!)AND, I am enjoying a late afternoon cocktail (vodka and soda, to be precise). The old Hedda's back!

Okay, not really. I'll never be the same again. Our family will never be the same again. It's bigger and better! And more edible. (It's true: I cannot help nibbling my son. He's absolutely delectable. Especially his cheeks.

Here is Timothy, eight days old:



* Our son is named after his maternal and paternal grandfathers, respectively. In fact, all the boys in the latest generations of MacLeans (Timothy, Ben, and their cousin Andrew), bear the middle name "Davis". We love the name, but we also enjoy a little legacy.

In case she needed proof of my reasoning

We don't have screens on all our windows. Constance's bedroom window opens onto the front porch. When we knocked on her door to get her to come to dinner tonight, she arrived via the front door, having exited the house through her window. Excited by the summery weather, I suppose.

I do not approve of this practice, and let her know that entering or exiting the house via bedroom windows is not appropriate, for various reasons including (but not limited to) the fact that the windows get left open by forgetful children, which then leads to insect infestations and/or neighbourhood cats sleeping finding their way into the bedroom of allergic younger brothers. Constance kind of rolled her eyes, and kind of agreed to not do it again.

Two hours later, we let a black cat, and then an orange cat, out of the house.

Signs. Not.

I've been tired and cranky for two days in a row, and the midwives say that's a good sign: the more fed up the better. I dunno. It's starting to look like I'll be able to make another trip to the gym this week. Which, in a strange inversion of my usual attitude, I was actually hoping to avoid.

*TMI* I ate a dozen and a half prunes (or so) this morning in an attempt at a "castor oil lite" remedy... Nothing yet, and Constance came home and ate the rest of the prunes for an after-school snack, so I can't repeat the procedure.

Otherwise, good times on the home front. The midwives at bookclub on Friday said it was okay to drink some beer, and offered stretch 'n' sweeps all round. Awesome. I've been getting some reading done, some cleaning, and lots and lots of napping.

My chiropractor said she wanted to be like me when she's 9 months pregnant... (Referring to my perceived spryness, I assume.) Unfortunately, my ability to move around on the chiro table is absolutely NOT indicative of my (lack of) ability to roll over under covers in bed at night. I'm at the point where I pretty much have to heave myself out of the bed, turn around, and re-position myself back in there, lying on my other side. Awkward at best, and requiring me to rouse myself to a state of full awakeness every 2.5 hours.

I'm not complaining though. I'm just ready. (I'll save the complaining in case I need it a week from now, if I'm still waiting then.)

Also, Ben has just finished convincing us that a family dinner at Ste. Hubert is a good idea. So I'm off the hook for cooking dinner tonight. I'll save the planned spicy curry for tomorrow, when -- if I'm still available to make dinner -- I'll be even more ready.

Imagine (an analogy)

You are six years old. It's December, and Christmas Eve is just around the corner. You know this because it's cold out -- maybe even snowy -- and you and you family have decorated the Christmas tree. Lots of pretty cookies have been baked in the kitchen, but you're only allowed to have every so often, because "we're saving them for the big day". You're so excited, because you are convinced this is going to be the best Christmas ever, and Santa is going to bring you everything on your list. Or at least the good stuff. You can hardly contain your enthusiasm.

But you have one problem. You don't know when Santa is coming, exactly. That's right, Mom forgot to get an Advent calendar, and nobody will tell you the date. Christmas Eve could be tonight! :-) Or it could be next week. :-(

What's a kid to do?

Historical fiction

I'm reading The Book of Negroes right now, and I have to say it's one of the better reads I've enjoyed in quite a while. It may be that I've been subjecting myself to really crappy reads lately (a string of books I haven't been able to finish), and so this is wonderful in comparison, but still. Good book. Not mind-blowing in style or theme, not necessarily a book to make you pause and consider the meaning of life, love or other philosophical issues (but it might -- slavery and war and all), it's just simply a good read. Simple, solid writing style, really well-paced*, and a well-balanced, likable main character -- sympathetic, slightly omniscient, but not too complex. But I would say historical fiction at its best.

* I don't know if I really understood what "well-paced" meant until I thought about it in the context of this book. It's related to not being able to put it down. The story moves along just-so: the narration never lingers too long on a particular event -- the next plot-point is always beginning to unfold just when you're ready for it. I suppose this is obvious, but this book is making me appreciate it.

While I'm on the recommendations, can I mention Lululemon underwear? Every time I put them on I think "I hope other people know about the wonder of the Lulu gitch." They are miraculously comfy -- all of the three (um, thong only) styles I've tried so far. (For full coverage, two words: Jockey bamboo.)

Only mildly obsessed

Monday - Spring coat/shoe shopping with kidlets (Done, with great success!)
Tuesday - Haircut and highlights
Wednesday - Midwife appointment and dinner out
Thursday - Pedicure with Mom
Friday - Sigh. Do I get to have a baby yet? If not, book club.
Saturday - Any suggestions? We're thinking cabane à sucre/sugar shack, if we can find one...

Surely by then I'll get to have a baby, right?

(If I could just know when, even if it's a good while yet, I'd be ok. It's the suspense that's killing me!)

The solution is so obvious

At supper last night, Ben provided us with the solution for getting the baby to finally arrive:

"Hevver, I think it's time. What you need to do is take your pants off, so the baby can come."

Because, obviously, that's what's holding things up.

He proceeded to get up from the table to demonstrate how this would work (though, surprisingly, without removing his own pants), along with a detailed explanation of how it just won't happen with pants in place. We assured him that there would be plenty of warning that would allow time for me to remove my pants, so I wouldn't end up with a baby sliding down my pantleg.

Meanwhile, McPie and I could hardly refrain from laughing our pants off...

Okay, fine, I give up.

I just got up from a nap. I've napped each day for the past four days. I will no doubt do so again tomorrow. And I really could've used one on Saturday, but couldn't manage to squeeze one in between the baby shower and wine club.

Doesn't seem to matter whether I've gone to the gym (Monday), walked to the grocery store (yesterday), or simply lounged around all morning (Sunday), at a certain moment of the day -- usually after lunch, though today's morning nap was a pre-emptive strike on my part -- the energy just ebbs away... Happily, at most other times of the day, I'm awake, alive, and chipper as hell. And still feeling hale and hearty.

Just like it was hard to scale back my workouts, I'm having a hard time making myself stop and rest. But I'm getting better at it. And I guess at this point, I don't really have much else to do. I've been taking the advice of some experienced friends and enjoying this time to relax, read, and rest. And I feel like I'm doing a mothering task: giving up to my developing offspring whatever extra energy that I can spare. Though this is slightly selfish: I figure the more energy he sucks from me, the faster he'll grow, and the sooner he'll come!

That said, I am off to the gym AND the grocery store... Because exercise is both an energy-giver AND a labour induction strategy. :-)

Nesting

I've gotten to the point now where I feel the need to do every little thing that's on the list NOW, regardless of whether it seems like it could possibly wait. For a natural procrastinator, this is a paradigm shift, but it feels good.

My midwife came over on Tuesday night to check out our space to ensure we'd have everything all set up properly for the birth. I'd addressed many items on the checklist she's previously given me, and we fine-tuned the necessary set-up steps. (I also had my check-up -- everything is fine.) As soon as she left, I got down to business. Although it's likely I'll last another couple of weeks, I might as well get everything ready NOW. Just in case, and also, to keep busy to help with the waiting!

So, I cleared all the surfaces in our bedroom and bathroom, double-checked the fit of the plastic sheets, prepped the garbage bings, made a checklist of things that need to be done when labour starts (for me, McPie, and Mom to refer to at the time), created my phone number lists, called to nag about the dresser for the baby's room (still hasn't arrived!!)... etc.

I finally picked up my diapers and am in the process of boiling and washing them. I've dug out all the newborn sized baby clothes/blankets to run through the wash. (I was going to wait for the dresser, but see "nesting", above.) I've got nursing bras. The bathrooms are clean. I've laid in a few frozen food items.

And McPie and I went to a movie. (The Watchmen. I think it was pretty good. I didn't really get it, and I had to close my eyes for some of the gore, but it was more "filmy" than most comic book movies.)

Luckily, I have plenty of events coming up in the next couple of weeks to keep me distracted -- baby shower, wine club, birthday party, arrival of Mom, haircut/highlights appointment... I'll be hoping for a longer bake-time, just to fit everything in.

Of course, if I get everything completely ready, it's pretty much a guarantee that I'll go overdue or something. Nothing ensures a surprise early arrival than not being ready for it!

Update: In a fortuitous turn of events, the dresser for the nursery came today! All the small sized baby clothes are now put away, and I have a change table!

I love a hotel that provides cozy bathrobes

What a weekend! It was a great way to close out my "must stay pregnant" gestational period. (As of today, baby is officially "term" and I am in waiting mode.)

We had a surreally wonderful supper with the kids on Friday night. They'd spent the last day of their March break out doing fun activities with friends, and I woke up from a late-afternoon nap to the sounds of them doing the dishes and planning to make dessert for our supper. I whipped up a delicious supper of old and new favourites -- pork cutlets in an apple/wine/brandy cream sauce (new), garlicky green beans and rosemary roast potatoes (old). Dad made it home in good time from work, which is always a thrill. The kids were beside themselves with praise for the food (a parent's dream come true), we were all in a gleeful mood.

Eventually, we left to drop the kidlets off at Maman's, and we were off to a friend's birthday party, where we had the chance to reconnect with lots of folks we hadn't seen since the summer. We are so often feeling overly shy and introverted that it was a nice change to both be in social, chatty moods. We actually managed to be the last to leave! (I didn't feel too tired at the time, but have indulged in about a half dozen micro-naps since then, trying to recover.)

Then the weekend really got started. McPie and I headed out in the early afternoon for our Final Romantic Getaway. We spent the afternoon at the Holtz Spa, enjoying facials and massages. Then we walked up to the Château Laurier, and booked ourselves in for the night. After a revitalizing cable-TV-induced catnap, we headed out for a delicious and relaxed meal at the Black Tomato. Filet mignon was exactly the thing the baby was asking for. :-)

First thing in the morning, my heroic husband got up and procured lattés from Starbucks, which I was able to enjoy without even leaving the luxury of the ridiculously comfy king-sized bed. Oh, the indulgence. We had vowed not to hurry for anything, so spent the rest of the afternoon meandering through a greasy pub breakfast and some market shopping. By the time we arrived home, I was ripe for another nap (I think I spent another 3 hours in bed!), and McPie enjoyed puttering for hours around the house, an activity he rarely has time for these days.

By the time we hit the hay on Sunday night, we couldn't have been more content, relaxed, and ready to get the show on the road!

Getting stuff done

I had wakeful night a days ago, the kind where your mind is churning and won't let you rest until you either promise yourself you'll make a list as soon as you rise in the morning, or you actually get up and make that list in the middle of the night.

Of course, as this stage of the game the churning is all about things I need to get done in the next few weeks, and the upcoming Big Change in our lives. And because this stage of the game is also accompanied by raging hormones and uncomfortable tossing and turning, I inevitably found myself sobbing piteously in my poor also-awake husband's arms.

Luckily, Sweetie McPie has a miraculous gift for dispelling my anxieties, and I finally succeeded in getting some sleep. Which I needed, in preparation for the week of Getting Things Done.

I got up in the morning and made a list, which was a great comfort. I wrapped up the final stage of my editing job. I finished painting the trim in the baby's room -- a task that was precluding putting up the new blind I picked up on the weekend. I vacuumed the entire house from top to bottom. I collected a few more items for the "birth box". (This is the pile of supplies we need for the home birth -- plastic sheets, old sheets and towels, heating pads, and whatnot -- currently, the crib is serving as the box.) I cleared out three milk crates worth of junk in the basement via garbage and recycling.

Meanwhile, I've also managed to get to the gym a couple of times, have a few naps, keep up with the laundry, start another wool soaker, and try a new recipe. (It was a seemingly random supper request from McPie that was surprisingly easy to fulfill.) It helped that the kids were in Quebec City for a few days with the Mom for March break. They just got back tonight, and... I didn't realize that I missed them. They are tired but enthusiastic and we had a super chat over supper (leftover meatball soup!*), getting caught up on the past couple of days.

You know, I don't know anything about having an infant, and the next few years will be an adventure and enormous learning process -- I know. But unlike most new moms, I do know already what it's like to have kids. I might be a little spoiled because Ben and Constance are such incredible kids, but I must say that having the opportunity to be a parent to them is a big part of the reason it was an easy decision to want to add to the brood. I feel fortified as I head into the adventure knowing that it will only be a few short years before the Little Fella becomes a person I can chat with, relate to, have fun with, learn from, and hang out with, like I get to do already with his brother and sister.

So, regardless of whether I get done all the stuff in the next couple of weeks, there are good times ahead!

*Anything with meatballs = automatic kid favourite.

Still brushing crumbs from my lap

I know you're not supposed to blog about what you had for lunch, but what I had for lunch today begs for an exception to this rule.

Chicken avocado sandwich with chili mayo on puff pastry "bread".

Intrigued, aren't you? My sister is visiting this week, so we're doing things a little more decadent. On the weekend, we were at my Dad's to celebrate his 60th birthday, and caught this little number on Giada at Home. (I don't have cable, so this "Food Network" business is novel to me.)

So, you grill (or fry in olive oil, in my case), some chicken breasts, and then let them cook, and slice them thinly. Roll out puff pastry and cut into bread-sized pieces (or a little smaller). Bake them pressed between two cookie sheets to keep them flat (I used parchment paper too). When the puff pastry has cooled, spread a slice with chili mayo (mayo with a sprinkle of chili powder and cayenne), top with avocado slices, chicken, baby spinach, and second slice of mayo'ed pastry. (We didn't double-decker ours like Giada did.) Consume with relish. The adjective, not the condiment.

Yum! They're not even as messy to eat as you'd think.

And now, I'm off to the gym. Because, seriously, a puff pastry sandwich?!

Ash Wednesday

I was raised Catholic. That sounds like a cliché, doesn't it? I'm not sure how else to say it though. From the time I was born, I went to church every Sunday, went to Sunday school until they opened a Catholic school in our district, wore a uniform to Catholic high school, was a lector in my parish church.

I personally didn't take it too seriously, but always felt respectful. For example, while I would never have considered myself a religious person, I tried my best to be thoughtful when studying for sacraments like confirmation. And I never questioned going to extra masses on special occasions like Holy Thursday, or Ash Wednesday. Eating pancakes on Pancake Tuesday was preceded by a talk by Mom about how this was a special treat to prep us for the time of hardship that we use to remember Jesus' sacrifice, etc.

Naturally, the adolescent years brought much skepticism, and though I kept going to church (enjoying the ritual, and the hour of weekly meditation, even if it tended more toward boys than saints), I gave up going to (and believing in) confession when I queried the priest on some detail about sins and he was totally unprepared to answer me. In university, I gave up going to church, except when visiting or being visited by my mother. I continued to cling to the idea that I was still Catholic in a general sense -- mainly by not openly rejecting the idea of it, even though I totally disagreed with many of the well-known (ie: politicized) tenets, such as the abortion, gay rights, etc.

One of the things that used to really bug me was the idea of giving things up for Lent. As children, we did it in a simplified way -- candy, TV, meat on Fridays, etc. But when I grew older, I began to question what this meant, really, and how it was supposed to affect me as a person. I tried to focus on the idea of giving things up as imposing hardship... But giving up petty material things seemed too trivial to matter. And the priests giving the sermons would always talk about giving up coffee and trying to tie that to Jesus' suffering. How trite. It made much more sense to me that if we were trying to use the Lenten period to learn something -- like, assimilate Jesus' sacrifice which ultimately (according to the church) saved us all, wouldn't it be better to DO SOMETHING, rather than not do something? Like, do something that was a hardship, that made a difference in the world? Wouldn't Lent be the perfect time to volunteer to shovel the elderly neighbour's driveway, canvas for UNICEF, or volunteer in a soup kitchen? But nobody ever talked about that, and I gave up recognizing Lent, the way I'd given up on confession. Cafeteria Catholic, right?

In my mid-twenties, I traveled to Israel with my mom and sister on a sort of Catholic pilgrimage... We used the New Testament as a sort of tour guide, starting in Nazareth and ending in Jerusalem carrying a cross along the Via Dolorosa. I'm sure that sounds cheesy, but it was a pretty cool experience, and I viewed it as a sort of test of faith. What I came home with was an appreciation the history of the events, a context for my "faith"... and a realization that I didn't really believe in Catholicism as a spiritual reference, religion as a guiding institution, or Jesus as the "actual" saviour.

I do enjoy attending Mass occasionally with my mom on special occasions -- it's a soothing and comfortable ritual. But, I can no longer say that I am Catholic. Or Christian. Or Anything. And I forgot to make pancakes last night. (We had spaghetti and meatballs.)

But I like the idea of Karma, and making other people feel good by trying to be a decent person.

My life in jots and dashes

- I am not a fan of the single lifestyle. Sweetie McPie left for China before the crack of dawn on Saturday morning, and the kids have been with their Mom since Monday. Days are fine -- I'm used to being alone, and have a decent routine. But at night! I'm at a loss. I watched The Bachelor, and then American Idol! (Under any other circumstances, I would've preferred to spend those hours sticking pins in my eyes...)

- As a singleton, I've been eating dinners like pita pizza and tuna melts. Good, but I'm looking forward to cooking pork chops and broccoli for my family!

- I've been sleeping well. I've confiscated McPie's pillow and now sleep with four pillows (including a kings-sized body pillow) surrounding me in a nest, and it's working! I've been able to coordinate rolling over with getting up to pee, and that means only 2-3 wake-ups during the night. Relative heaven.

- With McPie away, I've rediscovered a measure of external sociability. I hosted book club on Friday, and had friends over for supper on Saturday and Sunday nights (the kids love when we have company. Ben says that having lots of visitors is great because it means people like us. Very important to him.) Lunch yesterday with some ex-coworker now-blog pals was lovely and too-short and satisfied my craving for Indian food. I've been really enjoying reconnecting with friends.

- Afterward, I got plenty of errands done, including picking up more supplies on our "Getting Ready for Your Home Birth" list. I'm feeling prepared. And also, excited!

- Aforementioned Indian food (or the errand-running) led to an evening spent with Monsieur Braxton Hicks. I find these contractions quite interesting -- they are not uncomfortable, but make moving around pretty awkward. Although I've been feeling them pretty regularly since about 20 weeks, at this stage I find them encouraging: training for the big show! Like squats for the uterus. :-)

- I've been knitting. Finished a second wool soaker, and I'm actually working on the trim for my baby blanket. (Pictures to come when I get some batteries for camera.)

- Would like to draw your attention to the best almost-but-not-quite-homemade cookies ever. I treat myself to one each time I go to the market on the bus (from the Natural Food Pantry), and today I picked one up from my local health food store. I'm looking forward to enjoying it for dessert tonight. The chocolate pudding I baked for supper on Sunday night is sadly all gone. (Consumed almost entirely by moi. Yum.)

- We are heading to Huntsville on Friday to celebrate my Dad's 60th birthday. Go Tim! We'll be bringing my sister back with us on Sunday -- she's staying with us for more than a week! Belly-competition picture-taking may ensue...

- I get kids AND husband back tomorrow night. Yay!

Are we that bored as a society?

For the last two days, the Environment Canada website has been showing, in bright red across the top of the local forecast page: "RAINFALL WARNING IN EFFECT".

Rainfall warning? Are you kidding me?

McPie and I play this fun game where we bitch and moan about how ridiculous it is that "weather events" seem to be headlines news so regularly now (and I don't mean tsunamis and volcanoes wiping out towns, but you know, 4 inches of snow expected overnight). We can't help but think that this "rainfall warning" is a joking response to our scorn, you know, like Environment Canada is in on the joke... But I have a feeling that EC is earnest. Federal government and all. So, anyone have any crazy "oh my god, and then it started raining!" stories?

Also, I am experiencing an uncomfortable amount of random puffiness -- especially in my hands, the only place where my relaxin-addled joints are aching, and occasionally my eyes puff up like I haven't slept in a week, it's really attractive -- and strong cravings for nacho chips. I can't in good faith blame this craving on pregnancy, however, since it's pretty much the one food that makes me -- in any stage of health or fertility -- lose my mind and willpower. Especially the multigrain kind. I have no reasonable explanation for this. I am glad to report that we have none in the house, so I'm safe. For now.

Good times, good news

Ah, what a weekend. We totally lucked into an opportunity to spend the weekend at a fabulous "cabin" in the woods. (ie: beautiful large log cottage). Parents of a pre-school friend of Ben's generously offered to let us use their cottage on Lac Ste-Marie. We would normally be too shy to take anyone up on such an offer, but Ben has specifically asked for -- as a birthday present -- a weekend at a hotel with ALL of us (all the parents and kids). It was the one thing he really, really wanted and kept mentioning. None of us felt we could afford it at this time, and then the cottage fell into our lap (coincidentally ON Ben's birthday, when the parents dropped the friend off for the party, and mentioned spending the Christmas holidays at their cottage.)

Anyway. Less than an hour and a half away. Spacious, cozy, well-equipped log house in the woods with a tubing hill on site. The six of us headed up on Friday and arrived in time to enjoy a cheese fondue dinner (and chocolate fondue dessert, naturally!). It was wonderful. Fun-loving Maman and Dad tired the kidlets out on the tubing hill, while the slightly lazier stepmoms (me and Lilly) got a lot knitting done. I can't wait to post a picture of my latest wool soaker -- I'm doing it double-thick with a gorgeous sea-green Cascade wool (9461). We are so out of camera batteries though...

So, totally relaxing, fun weekend, with lots of good food and conversation. It's actually the first time the six of us have gone away and spent a weekend together (other than Christmas last year, but that was mediated by a million other people), and it was wonderful. Easy breezy. Children are outnumbered by parents 2:1, so there's always back-up, and always time and space for adult time.

And! Both moms examined me in a midwifely way -- that is, they took turns palpating my burgeoning belly -- and confirmed that the Young Fella is in fact in the perfect position. (I swear he flipped around on the very day that my midwife told me he was sidewise.) That little lump by my ribs on the right side is FEET (not a head), and the other lump on the left side of my belly button is BUM! And the rumbling down by my left hip flexor is SHOULDER! And HEAD! (Not feet.) And he's the "perfect size" (so far)... Which means, not too big.

They did disagree on the topic of stretchmarks though. Celine says they can suddenly happen in the last week; Lilly said if I don't have them by now, I'm good to go. I really want to side with my knitting partner on this one, but will keep an open-mind. :-)

Anything can change in the next six or seven weeks, but it's a great place to start.

Sleepwalker started it

And Vicki made it a challenge. So here are 25 random things about me:

1. I'm shy, not snobby. (In case you mistook the averted gaze.)
2. I always thought I was too shy to ever be able to play a team sport.
3. But learning to play frisbee changed my life for the better.
4. I've played frisbee at Nationals four out of the past five years.
5. Joining a family with children changed my life for the better.
6. My stepkids are the cutest, smartest kids ever.
7. I broke my nose in a terrible shower accident.
8. I coached (really little children) skating when I was 13.
9. I love heavy squats.
10. I'm learning to love heavy presses.
11. I'm a relatively tall person, but am still 5 inches shorter than my little sister.
12. I would let my mom live with us if she wanted to.
13. I'm not allergic to anything.
14. I have found the secret to uber-juicy hamburgers, and it is oatmeal.
15. I could spend all day every day reading.
16. I can't read with music playing.
17. I never need time away from my husband. Not even a minute.
18. I enjoy knitting, but I have trouble committing to projects.
19. I used to work as a patient simulator for medical students.
20. I also worked as the snack bar girl in a bingo hall.
21. I got hired at McDonalds (after the bingo hall), but quit after one training session.
22. I've never had long hair.
23. I hate dusting, and almost never do it.
24. I need to start speaking French, but don't know how to begin. (See #1.)
25. I've just added "Paris" to my places to visit list.

Do your own; it's kind of fun.