Potlucks are depressing enough as it is

Let it snow

2012-01-16T21:42:00.003-05:00

Before the Xtreme cold wave hit, we enjoyed some good playtime in the snow. It is hilarious watching a toddler play in the snow! I let Tim loose in the backyard, and the snow itself was the toy/activity/play structure. He just stomped around in the six fresh inches of white stuff: stumbling, falling, making angels, throwing handfuls in the air... Whatever, it was the most fun ever!

After awhile though, it inevitably came time for sledding. Wherein Mommy pulls kid on a sled around the snowy block. Again. And again. It was good exercise for me, as most sidewalks weren't shovelled at all. And on our jaunt, Tim made an astute scientific observation (perhaps his first). Looking up, he exclaimed: "Mommy! The 'no is coming out of the clouds!"

Gift of the Magi

2011-11-27T22:46:00.001-05:00

We are a non-religious family, but thanks to Baba, Tim has ready access to a wide selection of Christmas books featuring the story of Jesus' birth. (I'm glad of this; religious or not, the story of Jesus IS the reason we have Christmas to celebrate. Might as well be honest!) His current fave is Margaret Laurence's version, which is really quite lovely.

Baba also brought Tim a Little Peoples crêche (aka Manger Scene) and gave it to him while we were away in Montreal. Because Tim knows the Christmas story quite well from the books, I suggested tonight that we act out the Christmas story using the Little People. When the Wise Men arrived, I asked Tim what they brought for Baby Jesus.

"Peasants."

When pressed for specifics, Tim informed me that the three wise men brought peasants consisting of myrrh, gold, and ice cream.

An overnight sensation

2011-11-24T21:58:00.000-05:00

Tim is all about surprises. We wait and wait, worry, find ourselves on the cusp of giving up hope, then Voila! Mr. Expert shows up.

So it was with talking.

Now it's happened again with peeing on the toilet. Yesterday, I could not have coaxed Tim onto the toilet or potty even with M&M's. (And if he submitted to sitting on it, there was no expulsion of liquid whatsoever.) Today, I could barely pry him away from the toilet, and every time he sat on it (or stood over it), he managed to squeeze out enough droplets to justify squealing "I peed! I peed on the big white toilet/little green potty!"

It started with a morning with Dad, naked and post-shower. Somehow, he managed to announce before he actually peed, that he had to go. (Unprecedented.) Dad brought him to the toilet, and he just stood before it, aimed, and shot. Perfect, and was rewarded with M&M's.

FFWD to Mom suggesting trying it again. He tried to replicate his experience with dad by running upstairs... but nothing would come out. He was so frustrated! What is going on? I suggested that there may not be enough water in his tummy, and we should try again after lunch. Dude was chomping a the bit and when I finally suggested it might be a good time, he opted for sitting on the Diego seat on the downstairs toilet. When the water poured forth, he simply beamed with pride. High five's and M&M's all around!

The rest of the day was a bit of a snowball. He was keen to try his skills on the virgin Little Green Potty in the living room, and nailed it on the first try. During supper, he got up, ran to the living room on his own, and when I peeked in, there he was, standing over the potty aiming right into the hole. Bulls-eye! M&M's be damned, success was intoxicating and being allowed to empty the potty into the big toilet reward enough. Tim spent the rest of supper with his pants around his ankles, running back and forth between the potty and the toilet. Tim, wanna watch TV? NO! I WANT TO PEE IN THE TOILET!

I made the mistake of telling him that first thing in the morning he could try to POO in the toilet. The prospect was apparently as exciting as that of a visit from Santa Claus because he was so excited it took a good 45 minutes to fall asleep.

Can't wait 'til morning! Bring on that shit!

A very quiet afternoon

2011-11-16T14:50:00.001-05:00

The big kids are at school. Tim's napping. I'm all finished my work, lunch, and surfing. The house is relatively tidy (after having company for dinner last night), and I can't think of anything good to blog about.

I have nothing to do.

Which means, I'd better come up with a to-do list for rare moments like this! When I'm busy, it feels like there's a mile-long backlog... It can't have just disappeared.

I guess I have something to do now...

He grows up, and he grows up

2011-11-12T15:54:00.000-05:00

This morning, Tim and I were in the kitchen. He was eating a yo-yo-baby [yogurt], and I was making coffee. Apropos of nothing, he tells me: "Mommy ha' a bum and Mommy ha' a wawa [vulva]. And Tim ha' a bum and Tim ha' a penis."

I agreed with his observation, and he added for good measure "Tim ha' a bellybutton, and Mommy ha' a bellybutton."

It's all coming together for our little man.

It's been a month of growth for him, that's for sure. First, he discovered Halloween. Although for months he had talked about dressing up as a pirate, he refused to don the costume when the day came. It took seeing other kids his age arriving at the door in disguise and GETTING CANDY for their efforts that finally convinced him. Ben came with us for the first couple houses then split, but by then Tim had caught the bug. He was running ahead of me up to doors, trick-r-treating, gank-you'ing, and Aaarrr'ing like nobody's business. And the haul was worth it.

Tim seemed empowered by his embrace of Halloween. A few days later, Baba and Doe [Joe] arrived. They last time they saw Tim, he only spoke about ten words. After showing of his sentences to them, he took his vocab to the next level, and began speaking in paragraphs, making detailed observations about the world around him using as many ideas and adjectives as possible.

After a couple of days of visiting, it was time for The Vacation. In which Mommy and Daddy go away for four nights and Tim has his vacation at home with Baba. This is a big step - the first time we've been away for more than 24 hours.

Mr. Big Boy Tim stepped up and enjoyed himself immensely. Other than a few sad moments from which Baba was able to readily distract him, he was completely happy spending time with Baba, away from mom and dad. Since we've returned we've noticed that he's even more independent and mature than when we left. And, he likes presents.

Inseparable from his new liday owinj tadalome [little orange telephone], that we brought him back from our vacation in Montreal.

Toddler accounting

2011-10-12T21:40:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, Tim could count to two. When playing hide-and-seek, "one, two, one, two, one, two...". When counting down for a jump or a slide, "one, two... [jump!]" Etc.

Today, out of the blue, he counted to ten. He was counting the stars on his ceiling: "one, two, dee, doe, die, di, den, ay, nine, ten!" Ironically, there are actually only two glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling.

I said "Wow Tim! That's amazing! I'm so proud of you!"

He said "Dat amading!"

Then he sang the Three Blind Mice: "Two blind mice, two blind mice, dee how dey run..."

Which, in the context of his previously displayed numerical brilliance caused me to laugh hysterically, which cause him to laugh hysterically, thereby setting back sleep time by a good 10-15 minutes. Well worth it.

Bad day gone good

2011-10-05T22:35:00.003-04:00

By all rights, today should've sucked. We woke up this morning to discover that the refrigerator wasn't working; the fact that both the milk and cream were already sour told us that it had likely been failing for days. (Which would explain the previously inexplicably too-soft ice cream the past few nights. Retrospective lesson: kids take way more ice cream per serving when it's really easy to scoop.)

So, drinking black coffee (espresso at least; it was still pretty tasty, though we drank so much more of it), we spent the morning unloading the contents of the fridge to the freezer downstairs (it's new, another benefit of buying a side of pork!) and a cooler. And wondering if we'd be able to get it fixed (how soon?!), or need to go shopping for a new appliance (an even lengthier process).

Then, it's the first beautiful day out in ages, but we have to stick around the house for the repairman to come.

And later, Tim went down for his nap as usual. And slept for exactly four minutes. Cheating Mommy out of her two-hour "break". (The time during which I normally eat my lunch, make supper, fold laundry, get ahead of the burgeoning clutter-disaster. Etc.)

Sounds like a disaster, right?

But jeez, if all the kids weren't great moods first thing in the morning. Tim had slept ALL NIGHT (a rarity these days.) There was happy happy, frolic frolic; they were practically daring us to be cranky. Tim with his "villain" face and voice, motioning with his fingers saying "Coooommme to me, git-a-car".

And hey! A repairman is coming! Within hours of the breakdown! Sweetie McPie had found some back door to an immediate appointment, and dude even spoke English. Sort of. He was from Abitibi and had a crazy eye, but was a 60 year old rocker and appreciated Tim's Cute.

Then, stuck indoors with no nap in sight, Tim and I got up to shenanigans. Or rather, Tim shenaniganed, and I took pictures.

Left alone with the kleenex box: "Mommy, I got lots!"

Playing doh. Kid can hold this squat for hours.

Trying on Mom's glasses. Very studious, no?

A little bit of core workout on the "liday backet bah".

And my very favourite, his own invention: Elevator in a Can*!

Beyond the ridiculousness of him being able to actually fit in this can, I love the fact that he's got no pants on. (Seriously, he was pretending he was in a hotel elevator. Later on, he went for a bucket of ice.)

The day went on to include a stroller run to the grocery store to replace the bad milk (Tim had a mini nap on the way); a delicious** and hitch-free supper; and all kids being chatty at supper time and cooperative about lunch-making (actually, this is not a surprise).

And I painted my nails. Constance picked out a funky lime green colour from her massive collection. I tried to take a picture to complete this narrative, but all the pictures made my hands look old and gnarly. And this is supposed to be a happy story.

So I'll end it here: not too late to go to bed and do some reading.

* Constance's laundry basket. This very same can -- from Ikea c. 1991-- also served as my laundry basket when I was a teenager. An heirloom!

** Rice pasta. I'm still off the wheat.

P.S. The fridge is fixed. It was a small flukey thing that didn't cost a lot of money. AND I CLEANED THE DAMNED THING. Fridge, freezer, inside and out. That, perhaps, is the point of this story.

Backyard (in)fertility

2011-10-05T10:20:00.001-04:00

This is the only thing that grew in my garden this summer.

Besides having no siblings, it also refuses to grow any bigger.

Magical cookery skills

2011-10-03T17:29:00.001-04:00

Ben just returned to the pot to help himself to another bowl of chili. He told me, "Wow, it's super good." (I haven't tried it yet; he's eating early so he can go off to kin-ball.)

I told him it was vegetarian. He said "What? There's no meat in it? It tastes SO meaty."

Slurp, slurp, chomp.

Ready to go to the Ball

2011-10-02T21:20:00.000-04:00

What happens when you leave a two-year old boy alone with a 13-year old girl.

Rather elegant, wouldn't you say? He's even nailed the nonchalant princess pout.

Wheat free

2011-09-29T17:33:00.001-04:00

I've been wheat-free for nearly four weeks now, and I sure wish I had something exciting to report. I haven't noticed any particular physical changes, nor have I found it a mental or domestic challenge. Wheat has been extremely easy to give up.

I guess that itself is exciting news.

Probably the transition has been easy and the effects minimal because I've actually been transitioning away from wheat products for a long time now. No cereal for breakfast or sandwiches for lunch, and my junk foods of choice are dark chocolate and salty nuts. (Both of which remain firmly entrenched in my diet.) The key change has been that now I can't pop Tim's leftovers (grilled cheese or pb&j sandwiches) into my mouth when he runs from the table. Nor can I cave to a pb toast craving. But sandwich lunches for for Tim and toast for me were already less-than-daily occurences, so no big.

And, it turns out that some of the few substitutes I've had to find for, say, pizza crust, burger buns, and chocolate cake, are WAY BETTER than the wheaty versions. A fantastic discovery: socca bread, a flatbread made with chickpea flour and water. We've used it for pizza crusts and burger buns, and everyone in the family has declared it a superior product. Then Constance made a chocolate cake with three ingredients: chocolate (a blend of semi-sweet and unsweetened), butter, and eggs. It was amazing. Better than the flourless chocolate cake we had at Taylor's the previous weekend.

And these.

They may look like your standard peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, but no! They are flourless! (Also dairy-less). Just nut butter (in this case, a mix of natural peanut butter and sunflower seed butter), sugar, baking powder, an egg, and chocolate chips. Mix it up, throw 'em in the oven and OMFG. (Yes, I gave up on the sugar-coating partway through.)

Anyway, despite the lack of drama (or because of it?), I'm quite attached to this wheat-free diet. I think I'll keep it. I'm not foisting it on the rest of the family, but because I do most of the shopping and cooking, everyone benefits.

Pay liday git-a-car tennay rack

2011-09-23T20:34:00.000-04:00

"Play little guitar tennis racquet."

The current obsession in our household (ie: the fixation of the toddler) is playing guitar. Air guitar will do in a pinch, but using one of the little tennis-racquet-type toys is the preferred mode. (Ben has squirreled away the paper jamz guitar in a bout of sibling rivalry, and I haven't snapped a picture yet of the tennis racquet guitar.)
The guitar fixation started with watching the live musical guests on Mamma Yamma, specifically Serena Ryder and Sloan. Tim has learned most of the words to the chorus of Little Bit of Red, and will dance around for ages just playing guitar and singing.

Today, this evolved into him having ME play "liday git-a-car tennay rack" while singing the Serena Ryder song, while he played piano.

Sitting on the Radio Flyer enables him to scoot from the high notes to the low notes easily. (The bench is missing in a failed attempt to keep him from climbing up onto the top of the piano.) Curiously, while Tim holds his tennis racquet guitar all low on his hips like a cool dude, he insists that I hold it like a ukelele. Seriously! I tried the hipster stance, and he's all "no Mommy! Up! Up!". So I get a cool kid, but don't get to be cool myself. Figures.

Ah, ben oui Gabby!

2011-09-19T14:23:00.001-04:00

Constance is teaching Tim French by having him imitate her phone conversations. It's extremely cute; his intonation is dead-on. Tim's word for telephone: tadalome.

Elephant? Adalint.
Yogurt? Yo-yo baby (single-serve cup), or big yo-yo (from the carton)
Cat? Wawa ticky.
Museum? Meeyoom.
Juice? Toot.
Bus? Beep beep. (Usually "big beep beep".)

Today as we were cuddled up for naptime, we had this conversation:

Tim: "Meck in Mommy big boobie" [Milk in Mommy's boobie]
H: Where did the milk go?
Tim: "Tim gank meck" [Tim drank the milk]
H: "When did you drink Mommy's milk?"
Tim: "Beebee Tim." [Baby Tim]
H: "What did the milk do to you?"
Tim: "Make tong and hety." [Made me strong and healthy]

Aside from experimenting with hitting, refusing to eat at mealtime, and denying the existence of the potty, two is pretty awesome.

In the 'hood

2011-09-17T15:13:00.001-04:00

Our neighbourhood is sketchy at best. We suspect the across-the-street neighbours of running a grow-op. I have been chased by pitbulls while jogging (and wasn't surprised at all). I've almost toppled the stroller in potholes and broken sidewalks. We are awakened nightly by the sound of either drunken shouting in the street, or muffler-less cars going from zero to sixty up our residential street.

But there are up-sides. Within a ten minute walk of our house (on quiet, residential, albeit potholed streets) are three grocery stores, a mall, a health food store, a butcher, a library, four playgrounds, two public outdoor pools, two splash pads and a wading pool, all three kids' schools, and this:

A lake!

Great for throwing

Great for hiking

Not to mention rock climbing!*

The Gatineau Park is practically in our yard. I go there several times a week either alone on a run or running or walking with Tim in the stroller -- or just playing at the lake. The lake is actually the closest part of the park to us, and it's perfectly hidden and lovely... right in the middle of the city!

Strangely, we haven't taken up cross-country skiing yet, even though we could practically carry our skis (if we had them) to the trailhead. Maybe this year. (That is what we say every year.)

* The whole time Tim was climbing this steep rocky path, he was singing "Bo on the go! Bo on the go!" (Theme song from a kids show that's about moving and being active. Tim thought he was a superhero!)

Vroom vroom

2011-09-15T21:18:00.002-04:00

Although it appears his hair is blowing in the wind, it's actually just bedhead. (To be fair, I had bedhead, too.)

We scored a cheap deal on a membership to the Children's Museum last Christmas, and we visit every few weeks. Tim is learning and growing so quickly that each time we go, his experience of the activities are totally different. Today was the first time he engaged with focus on activities for extended periods of time (10 or 15 minutes in one place!): making onion tortillas in the Mexican hut, shingling and patching the doghouse, cooking and serving food in the café. Previously, he'd mostly just run around enjoying the varied and colourful environment, poking his head in here and there. (Though the cafe has always been a hit. For a long time now he's enjoying pouring me a pretend coffee, clinking "cheers!", and pretend-sipping vigorously.) Now, he's finally getting the hang of playing.

The time, it's certainly zooming by.

Oh Natural

2011-09-13T15:07:00.001-04:00

On Labour Day, we drove out to a farm near Carleton Place to pick up a side of pork. Or, as we've been calling him, Our Happy Pig.

I didn't get any pictures of the fairly cute and gregarious Yorkshires, from which herd Our Happy Pig was culled. Nor did I get any pictures of the beef cattle roaming in the open fields behind the barn (whom we will revisit with less innocent intention next year.)

But we all enjoyed getting a tour of the farm, seeing the other animals, and chatting with Farmer Dave (who left Nortel half a dozen years ago to take up farming on his fantastic 150 year old farm.)

So the pork? Is amazing. We've only dug into a couple packages of loin chops, but they are just amazing. tender, juicy, flavourful. And guilt-free. This pig, it lived the way pigs are meant to. In a big open pen, running around in the mud and grass, being fed delicious real-food-slops.

We'd been avoiding grocery store meat for some time, and even alternating meating-eating and vegetarian/vegan-eating dinners in order to minimize the amount of unhealthy (in the broadest sense). Now we have a freezer full of loin chops, smoked hams, sausages (the guy from the Sausage Kitchen makes the sausages!), bacon, and ground pork, which we can enjoy knowing we are supporting natural agriculture.

Next year, beef.

Also! I had my first taste of fresh, unpasteurized milk the other night. Not at the farm; at bookclub. (Bookclub is made up of many midwives - there was bound to be a granola or two in the bunch.) OMG, fresh milk tastes amazing, AND I got the contact info for the farmer who supplies it. We'll see where this leads...

From the list of "Don'ts"

2011-09-12T15:17:00.000-04:00

Um, no Tim. That's NOT allowed.

I love naptime

2011-09-09T14:44:00.001-04:00

One of the best things about staying home with my "baby" is getting to put him down for his naps. It used to be a dreaded time of the day: will he go down? How much will we fight? Will he stay asleep?

Since we consolidated into one nap a day (a year ago?), and in particular since we stopped nursing (March 18), afternoon naps have been predictable and the routine for going to sleep pretty straightforward -- though time consuming. The thing about it taking a long time is: is doesn't matter! We don't have anything else to do but wash hands, choose stories, read stories, one more story Mommy, cuddle up, chat, toss and turn, wata [water] Mommy, again wata, cuddle up, toss a bit more, cuddle, Zzzzzz.... It can take an hour from the time we start up the stairs until I come back down to eat a quiet lunch by myself.

But whatever. It's so cozy, up there lying on the bed reading stories. Tim's starting to read along, filling in the words to his favourite stories, pointing out things in the pictures, telling me the ending. It's actually... fun.

And lately, when we've turned out the light and I lay down to cuddle up, Tim (sometimes after a bit of tossing and turning) squirms right into my chest, puts his cheek on my cheek, wraps both arms around my neck, sighs quietly and falls asleep like that. It's heaven.

Hack, hack

2011-09-08T22:54:00.001-04:00

I've had a terrible cough for two weeks now. It's not so bad during the day, but has been keeping me up at night. I'm skeptical of cough medicine, but have been taking it before bed anyway. Still, the up-at-all-hours. I'm exhausted, and have given up exercise. (Coinciding with Tim's break from nursery school, at least.)

At least the kids are back to school: McPie enjoys mornings with them, so I've been sleeping in.

Since my cough started, Tim caught and recovered from croup. (Heck, he probably caught it from me.) In three days! Kid has a killer immune system.

Last night, in a last ditch effort, Sweetie McPie stayed up late to whip up a batch of homemade soup (carrot & fennel), and instructed me to drink it all day today. He insists it's the cure we've been waiting for.

At any rate, the soup is delicious.

Up and down the ladder

2011-07-10T22:31:00.000-04:00

I have just had a random but sort of interesting realization.

Since becoming a parent (the timing could be a coincidence, but I think not), I have dropped a stage or two down on Maslow's hierachical pyramid of needs. Check it out.

I don't think I ever quite tipped into self-actualization mode, certainly not fully, but as most educated and socially and financially independent westerners, I was solidly working the esteem angle. Now, I'm all about love and belonging, and nothin' but. Screw achievement, just give me a little intimacy!

But the craziest thing is, I can't decide if this is an improvement or deterioration. Maybe both.

Curious to realize that the ladder doesn't just work the one way.

Freedom for all

2011-06-21T16:14:00.002-04:00

We have recently re-discovered the bus. And guess who LOVES the bus? We all do!

Tim and I took our first ride together last week, destination Byward Market. He was very excited as we walked over to the bus stop; very patient as we waited for the bus; and thrilled to sit a seat beside the window looking at everything.

Lucky for me he loved it all -- as soon as we were too far from home to walk back, I realized I'd left my wallet at home. I had return fare in my pocket, but no wallet nixed any plans we had for treats and shopping. Since Tim seemed so content, we just stayed on the bus for the whole route (about 40 minutes) -- through downtown Ottawa and back to our house. We got off, I retrieved my wallet, and we went back to the bus and waited for another. Tim couldn't have been happier to get on ANOTHER bus! Once in the market, pizza for lunch and gelato for dessert was just icing on the cake.

The next week, Constance finished her exams and began contemplating the summer ahead of her. She takes public transit to school, and has taken it a few times to destinations nearby, and all her friends live around here. But every other week, she'll be in Aylmer -- seemingly far, far away from friends and accessible shopping while her mom is at work and unable to chauffeur. So, we hatched a plan to figure out how to bus it to Aylmer and back. I agreed to accompany her on a round trip to Les Mamans. It was perfect for all of us. Constance had the security of a parent, and I had an excuse for an morning activity, and Tim was about to enjoy Public Transit Nirvana: riding the bus with his beloved CoCo.

The adventure was an all-around success. The trip was easy, we were served coffee and snacks at the other end, and we made it back in one piece. Constance is now confident of her summer independence, and I know I can take Tim places like the market, the Children's Museum, or Maman's place without having to book a car and lug a car seat, while keeping the young fella entertained.

Enjoying some tasty juice:

This was Tim's expression for most of the trip. It belies his enthusiasm:

Nodding off a little:

Steelguts

2011-06-09T15:35:00.000-04:00

So, I bought a package of dulse a few weeks ago, having heard about it's wondrous health properties and thinking that it might offer new and exciting snacking possibilities.

But dulse? Is disgusting. I am the furthest thing from a fussy eater, but my god is that stuff grody. I tried it out on the kids, and they were on board with the revulsion.

Except Tim. Dude will actually EAT that stuff! Okay, not many bites before saying "all done" (it's quite salty). But when offered on later occasions, he'll happily munch a few bites.

Given that he'll eat his bodyweight in smoked oysters or sundried black olives, I probably shouldn't be surprised.

I am not a tea-drinker (or a fun playtime pal)

2011-03-07T15:11:00.004-05:00

I really want to be a tea drinker. The idea is both cozy and romantic. But every time I make myself a cup of tea, it's too hot to drink so I set it aside... and inevitably forget about it until it's too cold for consumption.*

Okay, this happens 99% of the time. I actually just finished drinking a cup of jasmine green tea, and this success was so major in my little world that it seemed worth writing about. Yes, that is about the size of my world these days. Tiny, but happy.

Beside tea success, I also had some toy success today. Lately, (as in since always), Tim hasn't been too into playing with toys. We've never seemed to be able to get the good ones. Or I'm not very good at facilitating his play with toys without having to be a constant and active participant which is not handy when supper needs cooking. Tim's favourite activity is Mama reading a book to him, and while I do enjoy this and we spend plenty of time throughout the day thus engaged, Tim is certainly old enough to enjoy "alone time" and use his little brain for solo play... freeing Mama up for such exciting activities as "laundry time" and "bathroom cleaning time" or even a little "eyebrow plucking time".

And frankly, the contents of the tupperware, utensils, and pots and pans cupboards being strewn all over the house is getting a bit old.

So, I thought it was time to try getting Tim a good toy. However, I hate shopping for so many reasons, including the stress of thinking I'm about to spend good money crap that going to go to waste. (Maybe this is why Tim doesn't have many toys to begin with.)

Long story shortened slightly: after painful perusal of the aisles at Toys R Us, we settled on a toy drill. Battery-powered seemed to be the key. The fact that a simple button-push causes it to make a noise similar to the coffee grinder and hand blender (Tim is obsessed with both - morning smoothies are a big event) was a big selling feature.

So far, so good. Tim actually refused to stop drilling for lunch, so the new toy is now sullied with tomato sauce.

* Somehow this does not happen with coffee, even though the milk AND the coffee in my latté are heated within an inch of their lives. Perhaps because I'm so in love with coffee that I'm willing to risk burning all the buds off my tongue rather than wait 3 more minutes for the blessed nectar? Or because once coffee is made my mind refuses to think about anything else until that first sip has been taken?

Our little elf

2010-12-21T14:01:00.000-05:00

I picked up a seasonal topper for Tim at the dollar store today. He had it on for half an hour before a) I realized I should take a picture, and b) he realized he had it on. Of course, he realized he had a hat on his head the moment he saw me trying to take a picture. I was too quick for him, though!

But he continued to be cute for the rest of lunchtime.

Charades

2010-12-19T21:58:00.001-05:00

When Tim turned 19 months and still wasn't saying any words, I figured I'd better teach him some sign language. McPie's band members had given us a baby signs book for a shower present before Tim was born, but I never really used it. I liked the idea, but could never remember the signs on the fly in order to use them and teach them when he was a baby. But as a toddler, Tim learned them faster than I did.

A month later, he speaks with his hands. Please, thank you, drink, eat, milk, cookie, more, all done, book, home, coat, hat, Wii, Mum, Dad, dirty, sit, look, ouch, dog, cat, bird ... and many more. Some are official (ASL) signs, and some are ones we've made up intuitively. He even signs when he wakes up in the middle of the night: "milk" and "please". First thing in the morning, he can't decide which he wants first, and signs both alternatively: "book!" "milk!" "book!" "milk!"

Tim does vocalize quite a lot (um, constantly... in fact, his sign for "drink" has a slurping sound effect), and seems to be -- maybe, finally -- on the verge of talking in words. Today, I found him on the couch holding a framed photo of McPie's mom (which he'd scoffed illicitly from an out-of-bounds shelf). I said, "Oh, you've found a picture of Nana." And Tim said "Nana!" I thought it might be a one-off, but it turns out that after some coaching, he got that it was a picture of Nana, and now he will say "Nana" when prompted. Finally, an actual word.

And Tim sings. He loves, loves, loves songs. Between us, grandparents, and the music class we attended in the spring and fall, we have a lengthy repertoire of kiddie songs (many of them singable nursery rhymes, you know the type), and he just LOVES songs. He has actions for all of them, to the extent that the action for songs have become the sign for the thing in the song when it's mentioned in a totally different context. And he's started singing along. Not in words -- just tunes.

Tonight, we celebrated the last Sunday of Advent. We're not a religious family, but over the past few years, we've developed a new tradition (in a patched-together family like ours, all the traditions are new) of getting together at alternating parents' houses for Advent Sunday suppers. (Then we spent Christmas Eve and Christmas morning together for supper and brunch.) One of the sub-traditions of Advent supper is that we sing Christmas carols around the dinner table as a prelude to dessert. The only family member not keen on this is Ben, who tends to mouth the words in a feeble attempt to earn his dessert. This year, Tim sang along. The only song he knew well was The Huron Carol (we have an illustrated book that he makes me sing to him a half dozen times a day), but after singing along to that one, he got into the swing of it and just sang along to most of the songs from his perch on Constance's lap.

It was pretty much the cutest thing ever.

For posterity

2010-10-15T20:04:00.000-04:00

Constance started high school this September (in Quebec, high school = grades seven to ten). She was very anxious about starting, but it's been going well, to say the least. Just now, we are sitting at opposite ends of the dining table at our respective laptops, and had the following exchange:

H: "Uuuggh. Thank god for Friday."
C: "I'm not grateful for the weekend. I wish it was school."

Ah, the idealism of the young.

Big thanks, little thanks

2010-10-14T15:40:00.000-04:00

We've just returned from celebrating Thanksgiving at my mother's place in the Annapolis Valley. What an amazing way to kick of the fall season. Although we rarely do any sightseeing when we visit, the farmhouse itself, the cozy company, delicious food, rural setting, and always-festive atmosphere (ie: cocktails served on the dot of noon) embodies the season of harvest and giving thanks for a bounteous year.

Of course, it was a ton of fun getting "the twins" together again. How awesome is it that Tim has a cousin exactly his age? Right now, I think the benefit is all for the parents. The boys seem to not mind each other, and are certainly enthusiastic about reuniting first thing in the morning, but the novelty wears a bit thin as the day wears on, and they're ready to get back to having the parents all to themselves. As the grow, their individual personalities are emerging clearly. Lucas is the wild man, always on the move, exuberant and enthusiastic, ready to have fun no matter what. Tim is a little more cautious, takes his time to check things out before diving in, is a little skeptical of strangers, likes his personal space, but still has a ready smile.

I found this picture, which pretty much sums them up. (Note also that Lucas is not wearing pants. So like him.)

But ultimately, they got along well, and shared certain passions. Such as berries.

The only hitch in the vacation wasy the return odyssey. After arriving at the airport to return home, Air Canada first delayed our flight for over an hour, then cancelled it altogether. "Pick up your luggage from the carousel, and good luck!" We had to scramble to find another flight home. Note to Air Canada: "Ottawa via Toronto" is not a flight. It's a flight to Toronto, then another one to Ottawa. So rather than arriving home at 5 pm (perfect! Dinner time! Return to routine and a good night's sleep!), we arrived home at 2 am after two ups-and-downs, and five hours in various airports. It would've been easier to DRIVE home from Halifax.

On the up side, Sweetie McPie has aeroplan elite status thanks to his trips to China, so we got to chill in the Maple Leaf Lounge in Toronto. Tim chose those two hours to sleep, so we could really sit back and relax. It took a little work for McPie to convince me that you really could help yourself to anything at the bar, but I finally got the hang of it. Who can complain about unlimited access to Grand Marnier? Not I. Air Canada is forgiven, for now.

Slim Jim

2010-10-07T17:20:00.000-04:00

The day after Tim turned 18 months, we went to see Dr. Oliver for his well-baby check up. Tim is extremely healthy (two colds and a couple of minor fevers so far; no allergies; no extra limbs), so scheduling this check up is mostly just for me to show him off to my doctor.

So, besides being an obvious genius, Tim measured in the 75th percentile for height, and the 25th for weight. He's a skinny minny! Or, as Dr. Oliver so astutely observed: you've got a runner there. No kidding? Where on earth would he get that from?

And seriously, this kid is all legs. He can scale vertical surfaces like nobody's business -- just swings one of them foot-long legs up and voila! He's on the dining room table. Or sitting on the barstool at the kitchen counter (which is where he insists on eating breakfast now -- a bowl of cereal or pb toast, depending on what his brother and sister on either side of him are eating.)

Language, on the other hand, is a bit more complicated. Although it's clear to me that he's a genius because he's created his own language, in which he chats constantly, Dr. Oliver says he's "delayed" because he doesn't say five words fairly clearly. I'm not sure what to think of this. Tim doesn't say any English or French words yet, but has many words, gestures, and facial expressions that he uses consistently for a variety of things to the extent that it's pretty easy to figure out what he's telling us or asking for. (Cutest: when he makes the motion of swinging a tennis racquet to indicate that he'd really like to play Wii. Which actually consists of Dad or Ben playing Wii golf or tennis and Tim watching, rapt.) And Tim often looks at us like we're just stupid when he babbles a question and we stare at him dumbfounded. Like "people! What about gaw-gi-gaw-gi buggla-bug don't you understand? I'd like to eat berries on the porch chair, duh!"

My theory is that he can't be bothered with these simple individual words and has skipped right to full sentences, existing language be damned.

Or he's delayed. Whatever. This weekend we're heading out to Nova Scotia, where Tim will hang with his cousin Lucas who has way more than five words in his English vocabulary. Maybe Tim will learn a thing or two (and maybe teach LuLu to scale hutch). Though from what I can tell, Lucas is more of a car and truck dude, while Tim is a dog and cat guy.

Lunch or laundry?

2010-10-01T15:29:00.000-04:00

Hi. I need help with something. I need to figure out a way to be okay with doing nothing for a few minutes during the day. By doing nothing, I mean not cleaning, doing laundry, cooking, etc.

Here's what happens: I sit down to eat lunch after Tim begins his nap. While eating my giant salad (creature of habit - I eat the same giant salad every single day), I read my emails, the blogs I follow, some other news sites, or sometimes I read a book. This is something I can't do while Tim's awake, because, well you just can't sit for more than a few seconds when there's an 18-month-old on the rampage. So it's a moment of treat time.

In my head, sitting in front of the computer or reading a book is "doing nothing". I can do this while I eat lunch, because I can't really be doing anything else at that time. But the chores are lurking and once I finish eating, I should really get back to it. Right? However, I like surfing/reading, and to keep it going a little longer, I keep eating. After my salad, I'll get some nuts to snack on. Then a piece of bread with pb or a cookie, or even more salad. So I have an excuse to keep doing nothing. As soon as "lunch is over", it's time to get back to work -- get all the chores done that I could do so quickly while kid-free.

You see the problem, right? I end up eating two lunches, just to enable myself to sit still for a little longer. Am I a glutton, am I lazy, or just a bit mental? I figure I have two choices: either forget about relaxing and doing nothing (ie: get up off my lazy butt and just get the chores done already), or give myself permission somehow to sit there "doing nothing"... without having to have the excuse of "eating lunch" (even when lunch is actually over).

Meanwhile, as I sit quietly writing this during naptime, salad ingested, I'm eating peanuts...

Chomp, slurp, lick

2010-09-23T15:15:00.000-04:00

You know you've made a kickass meal when the 12-year-old asks if it's okay if she licks her plate, and when she's finished doing so (you let her because she's old enough to know not to do it in public, and also you're flattered), she asks you if you're going to lick your own plate, because if not, would you mind...?

It was only eggs benny, but with cornbread and smoked prosciutto rather than english muffins and ham, and a lemony homemade hollandaise. (The cornbread was left over from the previous night's supper of moosemeat chili. Also a hit.)

What can I say, my family loves butter and whipping cream. Of which there was plenty in the cake I made for dessert: white butter cake with chocolate buttercream icing. A totally rich and yummy and super-simple cake. Sweetie McPie said "Can we have cake?" (Said not asked, because I don't think he thought it was possible, and didn't dare actually ask.) But I whipped one up right then, right under his nose, just what he requeste: white cake with chocolate icing. I do take my job as a homemaker seriously!

Out and about

2010-09-10T12:35:00.015-04:00

I have to say that, although I will never admit to ever being glad that summer is nearing an end, I am feeling pleasantly welcoming toward the onset of autumn. September and October, and the anticipation of Grey November, is such a nostalgic and invigorating time of year. A time for new routines, old rituals, putting away, taking out, spending that last bit of energy before hunkering down and cozying up for the long winter months.

And I will admit that that last heat wave of summer, just last week, was pretty inhibiting. We stayed indoors most of the week - it was just too stifling to venture forth. So this week's whiff of autumn is very literally a breath of fresh air, and Tim and I have enjoyed putting on our long sleeves and hoodies and getting out into the neighbourhood.

First stop, the Children's Museum at the Museum of Civilization. Okay, not strictly in our neighbourhood, but we did walk there and back. And Tim went to town while there, showing off how advanced he is. ;-)

Tim drove a bus.

Played chess.

And wrote some important things down.

Today, we headed down to the park at the end of the street, where they replaced the rickety, old, and too-high-for-toddlers play structure with an awesome new one that requires much less intervention on mom's part.

There was much climbing and sliding.

And, of course, some resting. (In the horseshoe pit, where else?)

Strangely, Tim refuses to go on the swings. Which, to my mind, are the funnest part of a playground. As far as I know, he hasn't had any disastrous or scary swing incidents. He'll sit on my lap on the big-kid swings, but absolutely revolts at the idea (or forced insertion into) the little-kid swings. Weirdo.

Saved in the nick

2010-09-09T12:55:00.002-04:00

Two days ago, I mentioned that we were in the market for a second car. As of yesterday, we've dropped out of that market -- without having acquired a car.

Yay!

We didn't WANT to get a second car. We've been trying for years to stay committed to the reduced cost and footprint of having to work with just one car. It was a bit trickier with a little one, but we have a kickass stroller that carries a lot of stuff and pushes really easily. And we managed with CommunAuto because I could transport Tim in his infant carseat, which attached handily to the stroller.

We used the shared car a lot, because pretty much any activity other than shopping and going to a playground (ie: swimming lessons, music class, visiting any friends) required a drive.

But Tim has just outgrown the infant seat, and our supercalifragilistic convertible carseat is awkward and heavy and I just couldn't figure out how to get it to the shared car easily enough that I'd actually want to leave the house. In my head, I was stuck.

Then, coincidentally, I decided yesterday to catch up on my blog reading, and came across Alison's new writing gig. Her latest article made me do a double-take.

It reminded me of all the reasons we DON'T want a second car, and of many of the reasons we don't NEED a second car. It also provided the solution to my toddler-transport problem. It's so obvious that I seriously smacked my head and groaned: get a smaller, more portable carseat.

Duh. McPie read the article too, and we agreed that with a few adjustments (some mental), we could continue for awhile longer as we are.

And, rather than a new smaller carseat, my sister pointed me in the direction of the Carseat Travelmate. How cool is that? So cool, in fact, that all last night McPie was smacking HIS head and groaning, saying "why did I not invent that already?"

Toddler-ese

2010-09-08T11:24:00.003-04:00

Tim is a chatterbox. He talks constantly -- to himself, to us, pointing at things, asking about things, asking for things, or just letting us know. Thing is, none of what he says comes out of his mouth in a language that we recognize as English (nor French). It's pure Timguistics. Whatever; it's damn cute. And because he uses quite specific syllables for specific things, we've been able to decode quite a lot of what he's saying so far.

Most spectacular is his "word" for berries. (Strawberries or blueberries interchangeably; they are among his favourite foods.) Most simply it would be written phonetically as "bugga-bugga-bug". But listen closely and there's actually a subtle "L" sound in there: buggla-buggla-bug. But even that doesn't do it justice, because the way he forms that hard "g" sound is complex and fantastic. It sort of starts at the back of his mouth near the throat, rolls out along the tongue where he flips it against his teeth and rolls it back to where it started. Try as we might, none of us can quite replicate it. It sounds so crazy and wonderful that we feed him more berries than any child should reasonably eat, just so we can hear him say it.

And I managed to capture him asking for berries on video (because I taped a whole lunchtime the other day). If I ever manage to find the cord for my video camera, along with the time to edit out the clip of Tim's pronunciation, I'll share with you the glory of buggla-buggla-bug.

New year's resolution

2010-09-07T11:58:00.004-04:00

It's the first week of September, the kids are back to school, and there's a whiff of autumn in the air. In other words, it's the beginning of new year. My resolution: blog. Life these days is wonderful, challenging, complex, and full, and I don't want to miss capturing it and sharing it.

To avoid starting out already overwhelmed, I'll start fresh. No backtracking to try to catch up on the months that have passed unrecorded. It will have to suffice to say: we had a wonderful, busy, hot, fun summer full of travel (Baba's in Nova Scotia, Grandpa's cottage, frisbee Nationals in Sherbrooke, Nana's in Guelph), and full of family. Tim is growing into quite the little boy, who adores playing with his brother, loves the attentions of his beautiful big sister, and is getting pretty good at playing with himself. I've found a sort of groove as a mama and homemaker, and am much less frustrated and anxious than I was in the spring. (Turns out, we likely just had a bit of cabin fever. Also, we're sleeping a lot better!)

First exciting project that is unfolding this week: Operation Mobilize! We're finally taking action to acquire a second car so Mama and Tim can go out and do stuff outside of our neighbourhood. We're signed up to start swimming lessons and music/storytime in the coming weeks, and we've grown out of CommunAuto.

We've been putting off getting a second care for ages because we've been trying to stay committed to being a one-car family. Minimize carbon footprint, stay connected as a family, yada yada... But Tim and I find ourselves just sort of stuck many days, and it'll get worse as the weather worsens and the possibilities of what do do within walking distance shrink. So, we're going to thoughtfully and judiciously dip our toe into the stream of "average suburbites". Imagine.

Meanwhile, here's where we are: mellow, and usually hanging out in the backyard:

Over heeeeeeeerrrre!

2010-05-11T12:45:00.002-04:00

Hi! I AM still blogging. Just, not here.

Alas, there is only so much time in the day, so the small moments of writing time are going towards writing on behalf of the DIVA Foundation.

Check out the DIVA blog! ("Posted by DIVA"... that's me!)

Right now, the blog is focused on drawing attention to women's health topics and events. We're just gearing up (see "only so much time, etc etc), but I'm hoping to have a chance to broaden the scope of our posts in the coming months with more in-depth articles and interviews with Divas in the community.

(I am also keeping up with my workouts and writing about them. It's easy because I don't have to think up what do write about. Come up with a workout, do it, and the post writes itself!)

Uncharacteristic indulgence

2010-02-18T10:41:00.004-05:00

Tomorrow, we are leaving for a winter holiday. We are going on a cruise.

Seriously.

Here is it, the second day of Lent, and I'm doing nothing but eating cake* and going on cruises. Ready to get struck by lightning any moment now.

All of us - kids, baby, crazy parents (just two) - head for NY tomorrow, then board the Gem on Saturday. (Is that ship seriously emblazoned with cartoony gems? Or is that Photoshop job?) And sail down Bahamas way... Where they are having the coldest winter ever. And, embarking from New York, you ask? In February? Give us a break, we're new to this whole cruising business. Last year, we drove two hours north of Gatineau for our winter getaway. This will be an improvement, I promise. "Next time", we'll fly straight to Miami and go south from there.

Doesn't this kid look like he needs a break from winter?

At the very least, we'll be leaving the housework far, far behind.

* On the weekend, we had "death by chocolate" birthday cake at my Dad's. Then, I made a cheesecake for Family Day, complete with grated fudge topping in the shape of a heart. Maman came for supper on Family Day and brought leftover spice cake. And let me tell you, that woman can bake. So I've been stuffing my face and enduring the tummy cramps all week. I'm nice and puffy for the cruise, but it'll be too cold for bathing suits anyway.

Family Day

2010-02-15T20:47:00.004-05:00

After finishing up a nice family dinner, I'm doing up the dishes in the kitchen. I can hear laughter, splashing and general chattering coming from the bathroom, where my husband and his ex-wife are bathing my child. As I enjoy listening to these sounds of ease and contentment, it occurs to me that the only weird thing about this scenario is that it is NOT weird.

Because my family ROCKS, in it's weird little way.

Hope yours does, too. Happy Family Day!

Hero worship

2010-02-02T22:01:00.006-05:00

So, I'm in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner and I put Tim down on the floor. He immediately abandons me, crawling toward the living room with bustling purpose. I follow him, and discover he had purpose indeed:

Um, hero worship, anyone?

(Not shown in the photos: we had to keep pulling Tim off of Ben's lap.)

Here, Tim is actually eating the crumbs of Ben's dessert, (while gripping the Wii nunchuk, natch), possibly with the hope that his brother's awesomeness might be transferred to him via remnant chocolate.

Why I love the east coast

2010-01-28T18:20:00.002-05:00

I've just eaten my body weight in mussels. Mussels that were caught this morning, and cooked by my sister this evening. That was the appetizer. We've just gotten the babies to bed, and a big mess of salmon is up next.

Oh yes, and my family is here! My mom is hanging out here at my sis's because the Farmhouse is cold and empty, and this place is full of cuddly grandsons. Pictures of whom I will have shortly (I've mostly been taking video of the ridiculous cuteness of two 9-10 month olds playing "together", but lord knows I haven't figured out how to upload -- let alone download or edit -- that stuff yet!)

I should go help Julie in the kitchen... earn my keep and all.

We've created a monster

2010-01-24T17:32:00.006-05:00

A peanut butter monster.

Tim is beginning to assert his independence in the realm of eating: he wants to feed himself and has become touchy about accepting food coming at him on the end of a spoon. However, he still kind of sucks at feeding himself. If food is too mushy he plays with it; if it's too slippery... well, you can imagine. And we're trying to limit the amount of processed starches he gets (cereal, etc.) Without the help of a spoon, he doesn't end up eating much.

Enter peanut butter. He freakin' LOVES it, and when we mix it with anything (apples, yogurt, ricotta cheese, bananas, even squash), he'll take what's on the spoon and pop his mouth open for more immediately. Couple this with experimental food chunks that rarely make it to his mouth, and Tim can both learn to eat and satisfy his hunger. Also a good way to make sure he gets plenty of fat and protein -- we've found it's too easy to end up feeding Tim all carbohydrates, which is a dramatic departure for his little body from the more balanced breastmilk he's grown up on. (Sweet potatoes, apples, bananas, carrots -- all favourite foods, and but holy sugar batman!)

I know the going (but changing) wisdom is to not give kids under a year nuts, but... oh well! Dad started sneaking Tim licks of his peanut butter toast a month or so ago, and he was clearly not allergic, and natural, organic, nothing-but-peanuts butter is, frankly, super healthy for him. (Tim also likes almond butter, and we'll try cashew butter soon.)

Mr. Little Baby, eating PB-dipped baby cheerios:

Saturday Stew Night

2010-01-23T17:49:00.005-05:00

We always say that we love belly-warming stews, but in past years have gone whole winters without getting around to actually making them. (We have relied instead on varieties of chilis, which of course have their place on a winter's menu.)

I'm at the kitchen table watching Sweetie McPie organizing the makings of "beef and beer" a long time favourite stew involving -- you guessed it! -- beef and beer, seasoned with nutmeg, worcestershire, malt vinegar, etc, and topped with slices of crusty loaf spread with (stew-side down) grainy mustard, which gets nicely toasted in the oven. For this is a oven-safe-pot stove-top-to-oven dealio. Deeelishus!

I mention it because I feel we are on a roll. Last week, I made sauerbraten, and it was totally amazing. I threw several chunks of it into the food processor for Tim, and he loved it too. I would link to the recipe, as I used the one in the Complete Canadian Living cookbook, but it's not on the web site. A tragic oversight. An excellent trick in the recipe was to use crushed gingersnap cookies thrown in five minutes before serving to thicken the gravy. (I can link to the recipe I used for the braised red cabbage I served with the sauerbraten - it was also a winner. I've never actually cooked a Jamie Oliver recipe before; I found this one by searching on "red cabbage and bacon" a combination I thought would be an excellent complement to the stew... and bingo! Or, as Tim would prefer: B-I-N-G-O and Bingo was his name-O!)

Hmmm. McPie just lamented "It's too bad we don't have any cabbage"... perhaps cabbage is a natural sidekick for beef stew?

So, Saturday is now stew night (or Sunday, if we procrastinate), and I look forward to future experiments in belly-warming.

(That said, we will be travelling for many Saturdays of the coming winter: at least three of the next four weekends. Details to come. In short form: Nova Scotia/China; Huntsville winter fun; Caribbean cruise.)

In Appreciation of My Mother: A Domestic Lament

2010-01-22T13:55:00.004-05:00

Dear Mum,

I apologize for all those years when I didn't put my dirty dishes in the dishwasher. I'm sorry I left dishes and every other kind of clutter on any surface of the house. I'm sorry for ever expecting you to make my toast when I was perfectly capable of making my own. I apologize for leaving behind a mess in the kitchen after making a lunch. I'm sorry for pouting when you said "I shouldn't have to ask you to do it"; I know that having to ask me to pick up/put away/clean up every little thing made you feel like a nag.

Mum, rest assured I am getting my just desserts, my karmic reward for every dirty plate I left behind. Every day, as I weigh the cost/benefit between nagging or just doing it myself, I know that I caused the same drudgery, back when I didn't know better.

I know better now, as I suspect my charges will too. One day. Years and years from now.

Thanks for not giving up on me. I won't give up on them, either.

Love,
Heather

Hello to you, and 2010 too!

2010-01-21T20:45:00.006-05:00

The longer I put it off, the harder it is to return. You know? Like, where do I start, how to catch up? Not so much that nobody cares what I had for lunch, but prolly nobody cares what teeny miniscule milestone Tim hit today. Which is what's going on these days. Milestones. And also, napping.

Yep, I've given up my free time -- the one to two hours I can count on Tim to nap each morning -- toward catching up on my sleep. Our night-time sleeping leaves much to be desired (and let me tell you I've written many a blog post in my head about that), so I've been giving up blogging/cleaning/showering/emailing/reading/etc time to the pursuit of sleep. Tim does have an afternoon nap, but it is more variable in timing and length and location, so I don't count on it for free time. It's just a breather. Lately it's been happening in the stroller on the way home from the grocery store, which gives me an excuse to keep walking and thereby get some exercise.

Because I've given up working out, too. Okay not "given up" in the strictest sense... Just, well, see "napping", above. That used to be my workout time too. (Still get a couple w/o's in each week, but they are getting lamer.) Kid is way too active now to just put him down and work around him. We're in the "chase" phase of our relationship, so waking time is either play time, eating time, hauling around time (if I'm determined to get something done), or hoping time (hoping he stays put with the pots and pans to play with while I whip something up in the kitchen.)

At least half of my very-few readers can relate, right?

So, I nap with Tim most mornings, and it's actually a heavenly couple of hours, the two of us all cozied up. He's lovely; my favourite. But the rest of the day is busier, trying to catch up on those "lost" hours.

Anyway, I won't bother trying to catch up here; instead, I'll forge ahead with optimism and a new plan. How about I try to write something every day, even if it's only a sentence?

And I'll let you know that all is well. We're so good, we're piggin' out on peanut butter toast!

Packing up

2009-11-19T20:05:00.010-05:00

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

2009-11-12T20:21:00.004-05:00

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

2009-11-05T09:35:00.008-05:00

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

2009-11-04T10:25:00.003-05:00

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!

2009-10-08T21:57:00.003-04:00

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

2009-09-23T20:49:00.004-04:00

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

2009-09-22T12:53:00.002-04:00

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

2009-09-13T20:52:00.005-04:00

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

2009-09-09T16:03:00.008-04:00

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

2009-08-31T22:06:00.012-04:00

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

2009-08-30T20:40:00.007-04:00

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

2009-08-24T19:58:00.005-04:00

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

2009-08-15T11:17:00.008-04:00

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

2009-08-11T23:48:00.002-04:00

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

2009-08-09T22:16:00.004-04:00

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

2009-07-22T11:03:00.013-04:00

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

2009-07-16T12:45:00.005-04:00

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!

2009-07-15T10:10:00.012-04:00

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

2009-06-11T09:28:00.009-04:00

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

2009-06-08T16:13:00.005-04:00

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

2009-05-27T16:17:00.007-04:00

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

2009-05-26T10:57:00.005-04:00

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

2009-05-19T15:48:00.005-04:00

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

2009-04-29T12:37:00.007-04:00

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"

2009-04-17T14:44:00.005-04:00

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

2009-04-14T16:17:00.007-04:00

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

2009-04-02T19:46:00.005-04:00

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.

2009-03-31T17:17:00.003-04:00

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)

2009-03-27T17:40:00.003-04:00

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

2009-03-25T16:28:00.004-04:00

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

2009-03-23T16:03:00.004-04:00

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

2009-03-19T13:25:00.004-04:00

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.

2009-03-18T12:49:00.003-04:00

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

2009-03-12T11:16:00.005-04:00

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

2009-03-09T09:25:00.005-04:00

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

2009-03-05T19:06:00.005-05:00

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

2009-02-27T12:55:00.004-05:00

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

2009-02-25T12:28:00.003-05:00

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

2009-02-18T20:13:00.005-05:00

- 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?

2009-02-12T17:52:00.004-05:00

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

2009-02-09T10:05:00.004-05:00

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

2009-02-01T12:18:00.005-05:00

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.

It's a start, at least

2009-01-31T15:09:00.011-05:00

Well, the biggest job required to prep the baby's room was clearing out the crap that was in the room. (The traditional office/spare/junk room.) That done (and it was easier than I thought), I've painted and McPie set up the crib. The crib linens are as yet unironed, and why can't I take clear photos? (And how do you get them to resize when you click them?)

A dresser will be delivered in early March, and will fit under the window. It won't match the crib (which is a hand-me-down from Ben and Constance), but the crib is pretty temporary. I also need something on the walls (I ordered this), and a shelf of some sort for the wall at the end of the crib. And a blind for the window.

The closet pictured here is actually large inside. It extends under the eaves and now contains a large portion of the crap I cleared from the giant desk that used to be where the crib is now. It also contains a tall bookshelf that holds the household linens and the baby stuff I've accumulated so far.

The room is in fact pretty big (long and narrow), and the "nursery" is really just one end. The other end is still our spare room and office. The bookshelf holds the rest of the office crap (I am actually shocked that I was able to whittle it down to one shelf...), and the futon at the end will come in very hand for mid-night baby-tending sessions, whenever we end up moving the baby to his own room.

What you can't see, of course, is the crap that's still in the room, that I had to move from end to end as I took pictures.

Already in need of a stern talking-to

2009-01-28T11:53:00.005-05:00

We met our second midwife yesterday, and really enjoyed the visit. Nadia is lovely and personable and we got a feeling of warm fuzzies that we found to be a bit missing from our previous appointments. (Midwives work in pairs, and take turns on-call -- a week on, a week off. Whichever one of our pair is on-call when I go into labour will be the one who ultimately attends us.)

Just about everything is well so far. Healthy weight gain (on my part), good measurements for the ute, and with a blood pressure measurement of 100/60, I'm apparently have no trouble relaxing. :-) The midwife nearly fell out of her chair when I told her how much I was squatting lately (she asked!). She was expecting fifteen pounds, not sixty. Fearing I was going to get a talking-to, I frantically assured her that this was half of what I'd normally do, that it's easy, really, I can do lots and lots of reps at that weight without straining. Secretly I was a bit proud, but do realize that in the grand scheme of things, I'm still well in the novice category of fitness. Sigh.

Anyway, one thing we discovered is that the Young Fellow has not yet turned his body head-down yet, which he should have by now. Nadia determined that he's still hanging out sideways, hammock-style, with his head on the right and bum on the left. Although there's not really anything to worry about (he can move any time, really), it's time to start coaxing him into position. She told me to talk to him, let him know there's room down there. And she told me to play music for him -- via headphones applied way low on my belly. Apparently, babies are very likely to follow the music, orient themselves toward the sound.

I'm doing this right now: I loaded Lhasa into my computer and have the headphones plugged in and tucked into my pants. I haven't felt a turn yet, but it seemed that this Young Fellow takes after his brother in the dancing department.

Weekend postpartum

2009-01-26T10:44:00.006-05:00

Today is a stay-inside-and-be-cozy after a busy (but wonderful-as-usual) weekend. Shall we sum it up?

Bookclub on Friday (I can finally put Flaubert's Parrot behind me! Ugh.)

Ballet on Saturday (Peter Pan was okay, but a little bit boring; let's remember in the future that the Royal Winnipeg is technically superior but stylistically traditional, shall we?)

Soul-sucking Ikea yesterday afternoon (but Swedish meatballs and new kitchen cupboard handles, yay!)

A revivifying homemade supper with lovely company last night (Stuffed chicken meatloaf? I love you Lucy Waverman! I got another of her cookbooks for Christmas, and it hasn't disappointed.)

And there was a trip to the gym somewhere in there too...

Now, after returning from a too-early-in-the-morning dentist appointment, I'm pooped and ready for a nap. I'm not sure I'll go that far, but it was easy to decide that today isn't a gym or groceries day. So now, the dilemma for the day: reading or knitting? Both activities will inevitably lead to napping, so maybe it's a no-brainer...

In dreams, and out

2009-01-22T13:26:00.007-05:00

I've been reliving, or living out, my current situation in the dreamscape of sleep. A few nights ago, I had back-to-back dreams (separated by pee breaks, naturally) about leaving work and the process of saying good-bye to coworkers. Interestingly, I have not been in touch with work since I left, and have been feeling guilty about this.

The next night, immediately following our first pre-natal course, I again had a series of dreams (again, punctuated by the nocturnal trip to the can) about childbirth. The first dream was a labour dream; the second focused on breastfeeding. (In which, when my "milk came in" my boobs took the shape of long dangly carrots that extended to almost the bottom hem of my shirt. Very disturbing.)

Finally, last night, the narrative was completed by a dream of miscarriage. Like all the pregnancy dreams so far, it was slightly but not very disturbing, a little comical, and completely surreal in its details. (E.g., My belly popped like a balloon, but there was no gore.)

I suspect that tonight's dream will focus on laundry and dishwashing.

Ultimately, I like to think that all this dreaming means I've finally found the correct configuration of pillows that allow me to sleep well, waking only the minimum number of times (say 4-5) required to depressurized my bladder and roll over to alleviate the ache in whichever shoulder/hip I'd been lying on. I'm optimistic that it won't get (much) worse. Yet.

* * *

Holiday mode seemed to last and last around here, what with post-Christmas trips to southern Ontario, and visits from my Dad and Mom respectively. Last week, I finally got down to business and it's been a whirlwind since then. In the past week or so, I've cleared out the spare room-cum-nursery, begun phase two of paid editing work, painted the nursery, did McPie's back-taxes, and knitted a woolen diaper cover. (Modeled here by Amos the bear.)

I've also maintained my usual routines of gym, laundry, and general household work. AND both kids have been sick -- of the past 8 school days, I've had one or the other here at home for 4 of them. Would have been more, but the Moms pitched in.

Phewf! It's a very good thing I don't have a real job.

The nursery and editing will be done by the end of January, making way for a very busy February. We have plans for every weekend (away for at least two of them), and McPie has been roped into back-to-back work trips to California and China. I'll be making appointments during these weeks (kinesiologist, chiropractor, dentist, anyone wanna have coffee?), since I'll have a car and will be mobile during the day.

And I'll nap, of course.

Dilemma of the day

2009-01-12T09:59:00.003-05:00

Chocolate cake with roasted walnut chocolate cream cheese icing

or

Bread pudding made with croissants and studded with chocolate chips

Which do I eat for breakfast?

I'm kidding. I had my usual yogurt/ricotta/flax meal/pumpkinseed/blueberry mélange for breakfast. The dessert dilemma is really a lunch issue.

Ben and his mom came over for supper last night, because McPie was struck with a sudden urge to cook for company. He made pasta with his new pasta maker, and had grand plans for the bread pudding, to be crafted from a giant box of stale croissants he had procured earlier in the afternoon. However, Celine insisted on bringing over the chocolate cake that she was in the midst of making when we called with the invite. So we had the cake for dessert last night, and McPie baked up the pudding this morning... I rolled out of bed today and was bowled over by the smell of fresh baking AND fresh coffee at 8:30 AM.

My life is so hard.

Excusez-moi, je ne comprends pas!

2008-12-19T15:04:00.003-05:00

I suck at speaking French. In fact, I don't even suck -- I just can't do it at all. I swear I can make up conversations in my head en français, but when it comes to getting anything coherent out of my mouth, I'm completely useless.

It's something I need and want to overcome, but I just don't know how. I'm exposed to a lot of language here at home and around my neighbourhood, but it's not helping at all. I'm often able to respond correctly (in English) to questions posed in French: Do you have an air miles card? Do you need a bag? Is there anything I can help you with... But even though the answers require just one word, I still manage to say them in English! I can't even manage to add an et vous? to the end of Bien, merci.

My oral understanding is only slightly better than my speaking. It's pretty hit and miss what I catch and what I totally miss. (In which case, my best laid plans for Je suis desolée, je ne parle pas français fall by the wayside and I just scrunch up my face and whine Um, sorry?) The kids and their grandmaman I can follow fairly well, and occasionally a stranger speaks either slowly enough or without the Gatineau accent that I can at least nod or shake my head appropriately. (Like the girl in Planète Foot who helped us pick out a soccer jersey for Ben. Somehow I knew what was going on there.) A fellow at the bus stop asked me if the bus came on the half hour, and I was able to answer that it came at 11:20 and 11:50. (I answered in French! I at least know my numbers.) But I think he was actually an English speaker who assumed I was French...

The other day, I forced myself to inquire about and ask for bus tickets in French. I practiced the very simple sentences in my head for like, two days. And I still sputtered and stuttered, turned red, and ultimately mixed up veux and peux, and failed to add the s'il vous plait! Thanks to the young lady at the cash who had the restraint to not roll her eyes (she simply handed me the tickets and clearly tried to not switch to English; she was humouring me).

At least I've mastered Merci, bonne journée/soirée, so I can end my pathetic interactions on a somewhat positive note.

Honest, but hedging his bets

2008-12-18T12:59:00.011-05:00

Hello Père Noël,
I don't believe in you but I want some spy games but I have a song for you: Papa and Maman it's Noël, it's Noël...

And then something about a baby that may or may not be thrown into the street... ("on veut des bébé les j'en n'ai eu ben jette les dans la rue"??)

The spirit of Christmas takes many forms...

Winter walkathon

2008-12-17T18:01:00.003-05:00

I opted out of a trip to the gym today because I had planned a trip to a Christmas party with the coworkers at my ex-place-of-employment. Because of the bus strike and my lack of car, I can only get transport to about halfway, leaving a 3 km walk across the bridge. And I also had a walk to the mall planned for earlier in the day (which I did). Although I'm able to exert myself pretty far beyond "just walking" for a half hour or so, as I do in my workouts, it doesn't leave a ton of energy for other physical activity in the day. And extended periods of milder exercise (like the total of more than 5 km of walking that I did today) turns out to have the same effect -- only it hurts my back more than deadlifts.

Anyway, all that walking done, it turned out that the get-together at the ex-work had been postponed until tomorrow but the non-current employees hadn't been notified. After spending three hours on the process of getting there and back today, I think I will stick to the gym tomorrow.

On the bright side, I had more Christmas shopping success in two shops on Preston St. than I did during my entire four hours of trudgery in the Market yesterday.

Temporary relocation

2008-12-16T09:16:00.003-05:00

I am writing from bed today. I have no good excuse; I'm just doing it because I can. (In the interest of not holding back at all, it was McPie's idea - he even brought me my laptop. After already bringing my coffee, and my book, all on separate trips.) Normally, I'm up, showered, dressed and breakfasted by nine o'clock, whether we have kids to get to school or not. Just because I don't have a job and don't go out much doesn't mean I needn't be civilized, right? But every so often, I've woken up feeling just plain wiped, and the only answer for it is to spend the morning in bed.

I blame being pregnant of course (Trixie, you were right, it's WAY easy to overdo it without knowing it and paying the price). At least, it give me an excuse that I didn't have before to take it easy. I know that in my working life I often woke up feeling like I needed to just stay in bed. But I couldn't, so I didn't, and I went through a day feeling like ass, being grumpy, and taking it out on others. Spending the morning in bed is an antidote to the tired, the ass, and the grump. So I consider this bed-therapy to be beneficial to all who cross my path in a day. It's entirely unselfish; practically my civic duty. And I have the afternoon earmarked for Christmas shopping, so I'll actually cross paths with more than zero people today. (One good thing about living on this side of the river -- I can still take the bus to the market.)

In reality, I probably won't spend the whole morning in bed. Probably not much longer than it takes to finish typing this. McPie has left for the day and he totally failed to bring me any sort of breakfast!

The lost meme

2008-12-15T11:08:00.010-05:00

Way back in September, a fun meme went around, and I planned to participate. Upon request, Vicki assigned me the letter M. I actually did try to do it right away, but never finished... I found the rough notes today, and figured I might as well at least post what I had so far. I think there are supposed to be ten things, but whatever.

So, here are some of my favourite things, brought to you by the letter M.

Morning lattés. Ours are particularly special, and we pretty much can't live without them. Old school stovetop espresso maker, freshly ground fair trade beans (these days a half-and-half mix of regular and decaf), whole milk heated on the stove and frothed to a thick creamy foam using an old bodum coffeemaker. A spoonful of honey for sweetness, and a touch of whipping cream when we're feeling decadent (most days). It is a hallowed ritual; we can do nothing in a day before making the coffee, even if we are getting up for a morning run or heading out for a day of frisbee, our morning lattés come first. When we are out of town for a tournament, our morning coffee-making supplies come with us. Every single morning we sing the chorus in unison: "Ssssslurrrrrp... Aaaaahhhh."

Moms. Our "unconventional but not dysfunctional" family is blessed with so many of them! We have birth moms, stepmoms, mothers-in-law, and ex-mothers-in-law, grandmoms, and chances are we've all been in the same room together at some point! I've spent the past few years learning to be a mom, and am now facing the prospect of learning a new way of being one... And I have so many role models in my Circle of Moms to learn from.

McPie. My partner in crime, of course. The perfect partner in general, really (for me specifically, I but can only assume that everyone else in the world is jealous of my luck. ;-) Just this morning, Sweetie McPie recalled our first "date" (it was unofficially one at the time) and said that he knew right then that this "had to happen". He wondered what the reason was that it had to happen. I pointed out the obvious: "Ken, it happened because it was the one way we would get to be ridiculously happy for the rest of our lives. Duh." I didn't actually say duh, though. Because I really really like him a lot.

Munro, Alice. If I had to pick a favourite author, she'd be the one. Some think she's boring, but as a stylist, she's tops. Her writing takes me to a thoughtful, peaceful place; I never tire of reading her words, which I often find compelled to read aloud because they way she puts them together is often so simply striking (or, striking in their wonderful simplicity). I've casually started collecting first editions of her books - a little hobby my mom started for me.

Melted chocolate. When you make brownies the traditional way (i.e.: not from a mix), you have to melt a lot of pure chocolate in a pot, then mix in the eggs, sugar, flour, etc. I have a double boiler that I use for this, and there is a ridge on the inside of the pot that captures an inordinate amount of the melted chocolate that is meant for the brownies. The tip of my finger is the perfect tool for cleaning out the melted chocolate caught in this trap... Only after the brownies are in the oven!

Mowing the lawn. I'm not even kidding. Working part-time through this summer allowed me to be the official lawn-mower of the family, and I did it regularly all summer. (Last year, I think we managed to mow the lawn twice, and the retired neighbour pitched in once when the "Serenghetto" got so wild it became a neightbourhood embarrassement. Which is saying a lot, in our Hull hood.) I loved having an excuse to combine housework, getting out in the sun, and being active. It was so satisfying to make our yard look and feel tidy and inviting. Every time I got out to do it, I was strongly reminded at how lucky I was to have the time off to relax, help out, be outside instead in, and have the quiet (well, "quiet") time to myself.

Mackerel. Our family's fish of choice for the past while. (Other than homemade tuna burgers, it's the only fish we eat at home.) We've found fresh-frozen fillets from the Iles-de-la-Madeleine in our Loblaws, and they are delish. According to Bottomfeeder (which is where we got the idea to look for mackerel), it's an ethically sound fish to eat because it's plentiful, middle of the food chain (ie: not likely to be overfished or carry contaminants), rarely farmed, etc. Also, as a "fatty" fish, it's healthy as all heck, chock full of those omega-oils that make your brain grow and your hair shine. And the fillets take about 5 minutes to cook under the broiler, and melt in your mouth with some orange butter, or just a squeeze of lemon. (And of course, you can't beat pan-fried!)

Masonry. M is a hard letter, ok?! But seriously, old stone architecture and related accoutrements (see Old Quebec City, classic European cities, etc) are eye candy. I can sit in an Italian piazza, or walk the cobbled streets of an ancient city with stone walls rising on either side of me and feel embraced rather than overshadowed. Just putting my hands on the solid stone with some history in it make me imagine that I can absorb the stories the walls might tell.

Two of my favourite things:

(I actually have a picture of McPie on a our stone terrace in Italy cradling a morning latté -- a trifecta of faves -- but he was shirtless in the photo, and sexy as he is, he wouldn't have wanted it posted.)

A Series of Unfortunate (Commuting) Events

2008-12-10T11:33:00.004-05:00

First, I would like to note that I am enjoying the weather we are currently experiencing (aftermath of Big Snow Dump). I like shoveling. I'm not in a hurry to go anywhere. The gym, the grocery store, the mall and the school are all within easy walking distance. It's beautiful outside, and my house has lots of large windows so I can enjoy the scenery no matter where I turn.

It's easy for me though - I don't have to drive anywhere. I don't have to deal with the current Trifecta of Traffic Crap that's currently occuring in our city. The TTC comprises the following: the Chaudière Bridge between Hull and Ottawa is closed; 20 cm of snow fell within 24 hours; and OC Transpo is now on strike, resulting in an additional 20% of cars on the road.

It took McPie 2.5 hours to drive home on Friday night. (Thank goodness he left at 3:30, or he'd have missed the first flight of wine!) Since then, we've been working hard to develop a strategy for maintaining Commuter Zen, so he doesn't lose his mind (thereby leaving me as the last sane person in the house). His work has been accommodating so far, and he's working from home tomorrow.

Meanwhile, I enjoy some of the resulting entertaining blowing-of-steam:

[Cc'd on this email that he sent to coworkers via blackberry on the day that the Bridge closed last week without warning, trapping him on THIS side of the river]

"I will *likely* be late today. I am in some unholy traffic at the moment. What is going on? Is there a nuclear attack underway that I am not aware of? Is parliament under seige? Was Nico voted off So You Think You Can Dance Canada, because c'mon, dude is gonna win. Did a truck full of puppies crash on the queensway? (I am nowhere near the queensway at the moment but I would kick one of those puppies right now if I had the chance.) I have moved about 200 m while typing this. Now, I know you are thinking 'Ken its not safe to text and drive!' But therein lies my point: I am not driving. I am making sure no one steals my car while I idle it on the street. OH MY GOD I HAVE GROWN A BEARD! Ridiculous. Hope to see you guys again some day. Remember me..."

I'm sure many out there can relate. I'm thanking my lucky stars I don't have to.

Christmas crazies

2008-12-09T08:52:00.014-05:00

I made crème brulée for the wine club on Friday, and had an enormous bowl of egg whites left over. Desperate to use them up before they expired, I whipped up some chocolate meringue cookies. I don't have any sort of cookie shaping device, so I just ploppped them down with a spoon. I remarked in the morning on their resemblance to, well...

Let me tell you, that got mileage. "When Grandmaman comes by, can we give her some Christmas Poos?" I was treated to the angelic strains of Petit Caca Noël drifting through the house for most of the morning...

Yesterday, Jean Charest was voted into a majority provincial government in Quebec, with no help from us. We forgot to vote yesterday. The kids were home from school because their school had been transformed into a (our) polling station. We were so distracted with the craziness of December Children that it was 8:36 pm before we realized it was voting day. Oops.

We actually had a nice day at home yesterday; everyone was into doing their own thing. I even went to the gym (and while I was gone Constance successfully wielded her Big Sister Responsibilities by convincing Ben that he wasn't allowed to use the stove -- to make chocolate truffles -- when their were no parents home.) We made Ben's truffles later in the afternoon. A pretty successful endeavour, it turned out. I was able to convince Ben that they didn't need to be cooked after all.

It was when Dad got home that the Christmas Crazies set in. (It didn't help that we had hot dogs for supper - a practically inconceivable treat. The 'dogs were inhaled before a bum even hit a seat at the dining room table.) The Christmas season has it's ups and downs. It's a lovely time of year, but children LOSE THEIR MINDS with excitement. Ben hasn't slept in about four days, he's so hyped up. McPie and I were up all night last night winding down from the evening onslaught, and around 4:00 AM we formulated a crackdown plan involving cleaning bedrooms, reduced computer time, independent dishwasher loading, and minimized sugar intake. For the kids of course! But participating in the plan will probably help us, too.

You see, they look all lovely and angelic:

And then the Crazies hit...

Don't blink!

2008-12-03T16:56:00.007-05:00

How is it that when I blink my eyes, another week has passed? I swear that my sense of time these days is set to "turbo". I don't feel busy or anything, and I was always given to understand that keeping busy makes the time pass quickly. My theory is that the dread factor slows time down. Moments of dread (such as the kind that sets in on Sunday afternoon when you realize the weekend is coming to an end and you have a whole week of work ahead of you and you probably should've done some over the weekend, but you probably won't get to it, making Monday morning all the more dreadful) seem to drag on and on... While moment of peace, happiness, or simple contentment pass in a blink.

Guess how I've been spending my time? Not in a state of dread, I'll tell you that much!

In fact, that's about all I can say about spending my time, because other than "not dreading anything" I can't seem to pin it down! I've been getting to the gym three or four times a week, which is good for a good hours of my day (between the packing before, walking there, stopping at the handily located grocery store, showering, and then the inevitable post-workout rest). I cook and bake (not elaborately, but enough to keep the troops happy). I've been reading a little -- mostly stuff about having a baby (I think it's just about time to move on to reading books on topics such as "what to do with the baby once it's here"), but also struggling away at some fiction that has no discernible plot. And no, I haven't finished Heart of Darkness. I'm about 10 pages from the end and can't close the deal. I hate it! So far nothing comprehensible has happened, and it doesn't look likely in the next few pages.

Hanging out with the kids has been pretty fun lately. Last week, we cuddled up to enjoy some So You Think You Can Dance. The kids are really into it. They were also relieved when Izaak was eliminated, even though Ben conceded that he had a few nice moves. (BTW, I'm very excited about tonight's episode! Fewer people = MORE DANCING! Yay!)

And McPie and I finished working our way through all the seasons of Buffy. I think McPie's a bigger fan now that I am. He didn't even want to watch the special features on the final DVD after we'd finished the last episode -- it was too depressing to realize it was over. At least now we can get back to lingering at the table over a homecooked meal and bottle of wine. (I'm gaining a true appreciation for the smell of wine. Hmph.)

We visited the midwife again today. The highlight was stopping in at the cheese shop on the way home, to stock up on treats for the wine club we're hosting this weekend. No, actually, the appointment went well, I got some questions answered, and everything is measuring up nicely. We booked our pre-natal courses for the new year. With all the reading and thinking and discussing and planning we've been doing lately, I have to say I'm getting really really really excited about the events to come. I'm even excited about the labour process. Kind of in the same way one would "look forward" to, say, one's first ironman triathlon. (When one has never swam, biked, or run competitively before.) You know, a challenge. It gives all the healthy things I do every day (work out, eat well, nap, avoid anxiety) new meaning. So, I guess I'm not at all regretting that this particular time is passing quickly, so I can get "there". I just have to make sure I stay efficient in my rose-smelling, so I don't miss a moment of this.

Starting at home

2008-11-20T11:24:00.004-05:00

I didn't sleep in this morning. (Much.) Instead, I started the day out right: coffee with my fella, and making a list for the day. I'm starting with option #1 - refocus on homemaking and "relaxing" before the storm.

List for today: laundry, rake leaves (just one last patch!), get groceries, laundry, make soup, continue reading the new book the Moms lent me. And possibly more laundry.

It doesn't leave much for tomorrow, though...

Head in the clouds, body in bed

2008-11-19T12:51:00.005-05:00

I'm feeling a bit hazy these days, a little unfocused.

Last week felt like a bit of a frenzy. After not doing much, or at least, not having much that needed doing for quite awhile, I suddenly had several things on my plate -- the editing work, and my sister's visit. I had things to focus on, to work through and around. When I said good-bye to Julie on Monday morning, settled down to work, and then finally handed off the last chapter of the thesis on Monday night, I felt a strong sense of satisfaction and some relief. I felt like I'd accomplished something.

And now I'm resting on my laurels. Yesterday, I spent the entire morning reading in bed. I went to the gym in the afternoon, got some groceries, did the tiniest amount of tidying, spent the evening chilling with McPie, and that was pretty much it. Today, I also spent the morning reading (finishing Late Nights on Air, which I enjoyed, though I agree that the foreshadowing was heavy-handed). I'll go to the gym again this afternoon, prepare dinner (and watch SYTYCDC, of course!) I am on vacation now, having earned one by doing some "real work". But I need to decide when the vacation will end, and what to do next.

Last week while visiting with Julie, I kept getting these little pangs of anxiety. While we were out for lunch and shopping for a crib set, I noted a tingle of stress that seemed to be telling me I needed to be doing something right then. Of course, the message was that I should be at home editing, rather than out gallivanting with my sister. However, when making arrangements for the contract, I made it clear how many hours I could work each day, and this took into account prioritizing spending time with my guest. So I was doing exactly what I should be doing. But it fascinated me to not how strongly the obligation to "do work" and stick to a schedule came on, and pervaded the other parts of my life.

It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, especially because I a) wasn't dreading the work at all; in fact I looked forward to it, and b) I could fit it in when I needed to, around the other things that needed doing. And I felt productive -- like I was contributing to the family effort. It was just unexpected. And kind of inconvenient, because it occurred when I couldn't drop everything and answer to it.

The anxiety, I think came from the feeling that I had an actual, concrete obligation. The contract work, despite having a very flexible schedule, felt like more of an obligation that spending time with my guest, or cleaning the house, and this feelingis definitely directly related to the fact that my work was earning money not just appreciation. Even though, according to all our plans, I don't need to be earning dollars now -- it's just a bonus. But I have not been able, despite my best mental efforts and McPie's ongoing support and coaxing, to dissociate the concept of "contributing" from "earning money".

So, the end of my vacation could entail any of the following: resuming focus on home-making and relaxing before the storm, resurrecting my long-ago plans for self-development, or seeking out more paid work.

I haven't decided. It may be time to be proactive, rather than follow the path with my head in the clouds. I think a list is in the offing...