Toddler-ese

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.

We've created a monster

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:

Packing up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Christmas is over

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Zen and the art of sleep management

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

Dispatches from a hotel room

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

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

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

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

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


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

Milestones

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

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

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

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

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

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


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


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

Here I am!

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

I'll work backwards.

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

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


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


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

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


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

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

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

Working out the kinks

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

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


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


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

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

Night and day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where the day goes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He loves his mama, too!

Tricky kid eludes decoding

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

Ha! Ha ha ha ha!

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

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

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

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

On losing the "baby weight"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cheers!

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

Starting fresh, with a spring-like aroma

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here is Timothy, eight days old:



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

Signs. Not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Imagine (an analogy)

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

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

What's a kid to do?

Only mildly obsessed

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

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

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

The solution is so obvious

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, fine, I give up.

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

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

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

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

Nesting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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