The Psycho Mama

Train Wreck

2011-04-02T15:19:00.000-07:00

When things aren't going great, I have a tendency to hide. I stop returning phone calls from friends and family. I avoid facebook. I even shy away from the blog. The main reason is that I often feel like everybody's life is going better than mine. I am jealous, but more than that, I am embarassed. I don't want people to look at me and think "what a train wreck," or "thank God that's not me." I have realized lately, though, that this is probably the main reason why aside from my husband, I am essentially alone.

People have tried to befriend me, but I am too ashamed to let them into my life. I don't want them to know that our housing is subsidized, so I don't invite them over. I don't want to answer questions about how I'm doing, so I just don't call them back. I'm sure they are offended by my lack of reciprocity, but the fact is, I just always feel like I have nothing to offer and nothing to say. I don't want to return someone's call and be a total bummer about the fact that my life is totally out of my control. I don't want to be the friend they pity.

My life embarasses me. My job embarasses me. I don't want people to know that I got a degree and have a degrading, minimum wage job. I don't want them to know that we have no money, yet are on our SECOND unplanned pregnancy. I don't want them to know that our car was costing us too much money in constant repairs, so we are stuck taking the bus until we can save up for another. I don't want them to know how bad I feel about my life. That everything in it is completely out of control. That I am trying desperately to remain positive but I am mainly miserable. And so I'm basically alone.

I have no friends. I would never reach out to family for help, mainly because they all have their own problems and likely couldn't help me anyway. I am sad to say that I honestly have next to no prospects for who will watch my son when I'm at the hospital having our next baby. I felt like I was finally starting to make a few friends in my sewing class, but then I found out I was pregnant and had to quit that so I could start working. I was too embarassed to explain the situation, so I'm pretty sure they all think I just dropped off the face of the earth.

I really don't know what the point of this blog post is. I'm depressed. I'm exhausted. I am tired of taking care of a toddler all day, and then going to work all evening, and I have no idea how I am going to manage to do this for the remainder of my pregnancy. It doesn't help that I have to take the bus there and back--and hour (and two buses) each way, for a place that is ten minutes away by car. I am sick of feeling queasy. I'm sick of the fact that my hips and my back still hurt SO BAD from when I was pregnant the last time, and now they are just getting worse. I'm sick of standing on my feet all day and torturing my body for what amouts to a desperately needed pittance.

But more than that, I'm scared. I'm scared because nothing in my life ever goes as planned. I'm scared that no matter how responsible I am, how conscientious, how hard I try or how much I work, nothing will ever turn out the way I want it to. I'm afraid that the rest of my life will just be me dealing with a bunch of roadblocks and setbacks, and never getting where I want to go or being able to do what I want to do. I'm terrified because I don't think I'm strong enough to live that life. And because if that is what it is going to be, I'm not sure that I want to keep going, and yet I have no choice.

When I was pregnant

2011-02-14T09:06:00.000-08:00

When I was pregnant with my son, I was a massive ball of stress the entire time. I didn't know how we were going to survive. We were living in my parents' basement, unemployed, both going to school--it was simply dreadful. I cried all the time and more than once, considered placing my Sweet Baboo for adoption. I just didn't know how we could give him any kind of life, and I wanted better for him. Somehow, with God's help, we managed to pull it together just in time. But it was stressful, and I never want to relive that experience again.

I promised myself that next time, things would be different. My pregnancy would be exciting, rather than terrifying. We'd be living in a house, instead of a cramped apartment. Our kid would have a designer nursery, I would get professional maternity and newborn photos done, and we would have the latest and greatest in baby gear.

Well, apparently that is not going to happen.

Yep. That's two lines, people. Two pink lines. I'm pregnant. Again. Apparently no amount of IUDs or condoms are sufficient to keep my womb vacant.

I am surprisingly happy about it. I've written before about how I didn't know if I wanted any more kids, because of the timing issue. I knew it wouldn't be responsible for us to have another kid for at least another 5 or 6 years, and I didn't know how I felt about the kids being so spaced out. I wanted them to be closer, and have a better chance of relating to each other and being friends. I also didnt want to start all over again with the sleepless nights and diaper changes and breastfeeding. Well, it looks like now we don't have to worry about it. Baby #2 is due on October 7th, and has already been nicknamed Pumpkin, in keeping with the fall theme.

As you know, I've been looking for a job in the social services field. Since finding out I was pregnant last week, I've had to cast my net a lot wider, and I found something. Its not at all what I want to be doing, but I guess working at a sandwich shop is better than being flat ass broke. The wonderful thing about living in Canada is that once I work through my pregnancy (a minimum of 15 weeks), I'm eligible for a whole year of maternity leave paid for by the government. I need that year off, paid, so of course I am willing to do whatever it takes to have that time at home with our new baby. The other great thing about it is that I don't have to worry about day care. They will work around the hubbs school schedule, so that we can spilt the child care duties between us.

I may not be able to afford to have the pregnancy I thought I'd have this time around, but I'm not going to let that stop me from enjoying it. I have 9 months to practice newborn photography on my son's doll. 9 months to find the best used gear money can buy. Nine months to enjoy every stretch, kick and wiggle this kid throws my way. I could focus on the negative, but I won't.

My kids are going to be close together. And more importantly, they're going to be out of my house by the time I'm 44. Now that is worth celebrating!

Night Weaning, Night Four:

2011-01-26T09:56:00.000-08:00

Stock photo by dynamite imagery.

I put our sweet Baboo to bed at 7:30, nursing him to sleep as usual. When we got to the bedroom he climbed out of the bed and ran out of the room, and I thought "Oh, no, he's into the habit of running for the living room as soon as he gets to bed now." To my surprise and delight, he grabbed his baby doll and then came back to bed with a big smile. Looks like someone has found his lovey. He held his baby while I nursed him to sleep, and then I crept out as usual.

He woke for the first time at around midnight. He didn't ask to nurse. Surprise! Yay! Success! He snuggled up to me, got comfy, and then drifted off. He had a few wakings like this throughout the night, and didn't ask the nurse even once. I am thrilled. At around 4 am, he did ask to "Go." I had to physically pull him back into bed a few times, because I was NOT going to condone any more middle of the night trekks to the living room. Eventually he managed to wrangle his way out of my arms and over to the door. Thankfully, he just pushed it open, and then got back into bed. If he is more comfortable with the door open, that is absolutely no problem for me. He grabbed his baby and the drifted off to sleep, a state in which he stayed until 7:30 am. Woohoo! Of course he was allowed to nurse for as long as he wanted this morning, which he did for a full half hour.

Hopefully tonight goes even better, if that's possible. So far this experience hasn't been nearly as bad as I had thought it would be.

Night Weaning, Night Three:

2011-01-26T08:58:00.000-08:00

I'm not exactly sure how to sum up night three. I was so tired that I don't think I have exact time frames for what happened and when. I put him to sleep as usual, and he was fine. 3 and a half hours later he woke up and wanted to nurse. I told him that it was time to sleep, and he could have milk in the morning. He cried, but this time only for five minutes. I thought, score! But two minutes later he was up again, asking for milk. I had stupidly forgotten to refill his sippy with water, so I ventured out to the kitchen to do so. He toddled out after me, and then didn't want to go back to bed. My bad.

The Hubbs played with him for a bit until he got worn out, and then brought him back to bed with me. I handed him his baby doll and told him it was time for him and baby to go to sleep. He settled right in without fussing and went to sleep. He was up every hour and a half after that. Sometimes he squawked, sometimes he just got comfortable and went back to sleep, but he didn't cry.

Sadly, he didn't sleep in the next morning either. He was up at 6. I was not happy. The Hubbs had an 8 am class so he was out the door, and I was home with a cranky tired baby. Ugh. Night three is supposed to be some kind of breakthrough, so I was pretty worried that we had just replaced the habit of nursing back to sleep all night with the habit of getting up to play in the living room.

Night Weaning, Night Two: The Milkshake Shop is Closed

2011-01-24T07:46:00.000-08:00

Night Two:
I put our Sweet Baboo to bed by nursing as usual at around 6pm. He was out cold by 6:15, at which point I snuck out to spend some time with The Hubbs.

The First Waking:
He woke up at around 9:00 pm wanting to nurse, and I let him know that the milk was sleeping and he could have some in the morning. He was very angry and cried and screamed and ran out of the bedroom. I brought him back to bed and offered him a cup of water, but he wouldn't take it. He refused to lay down and instead waved his arms around to let us know that he was NOT HAPPY. This lasted about 30 minutes, until he realized that I wasn't going to give in and he laid down beside me and fell asleep. He slept for SIX HOURS STRAIGHT, which is pretty much unheard of around these parts.

The Second Waking:
Next he woke up at 3 am. I let him know that the milk was sleeping and told him to go back to sleep. He rolled over and fell back asleep instantly. Five minutes later, though, he was looking for milk again. I told him the milk was sleeping, and he decided he didn't want to be in bed anymore. He tried to get me to "Go! Go!" but I didn't move and told him it was still night time and he needed to go back to sleep. He squawked a couple of times, but didn't cry. His baby doll was with us, so I told him that it was night time and the baby needed to go to sleep. He put the baby down on the pillow beside me, then came and snuggled in to my other side, where he tried to put himself to sleep for about half an hour. He rolled around in a bunch of different positions, including one that had him laying across my chest with his hip bone in my throat.

Intermission:
Eventually he sat up, sighed, and said "Eat, eat." I realized he was probably hungry since he'd had an early dinner at my parents' house (4 pm) and nothing since. I felt horrible for not thinking to give him a snack before bed, so from now on I will make sure that he eats something right before he goes down so he's not craving calories. I brought him to the living room and gave him some cheese and crackers, and he sat on his toddler couch and ate them while watching a DVD (I know, bad). I tried, unsuccessfully to get him to go back to bed a bunch of times, but I think with eating at 3:40 in the morning he was probably confused and thought it was breakfast time.

I FINALLY managed to get him into bed at around 6:30 am. We were both exhausted. I think he thought it was naptime, rather than a continuation of bedtime, because he did NOT understand why he couldn't have milk. I had considered letting him nurse, since it was kind of a nap, but I really wanted to keep things clear by sustaining the boundary that we nurse when the sun comes up, and not before. He fussed and wasn't happy, but then suddenly he laid down, pulled my hand over to his head (which I interpreted as him wanting me to rub his head, so I did), and within 2 minutes he was out. I think me rubbing his head helped, because I used to stroke his hair at night while nursing, so I think that still comforted him, even in the absence of milk.

We slept in until 10 am, which meant we missed our Parent and Child group and that our nap schedule today will be all thrown off, but hopefully the result will be better sleep for all of us. When he woke up this morning I told him that it was light again, and it was morning, so it was time for milk. He enthusiastically obliged.

Night-Weaning a Toddler: Night One

2011-01-23T06:13:00.000-08:00

The Reason:
This week we decided we were going to night wean our little guy. I have been waking up to breastfeed him on demand for 18 months now, and it was just getting to be too much. I knew I was finally ready to take the plunge because the thought of three nights with absolutely NO sleep seemed better to me than continuing as we were. In the past I'd always put it off because I just wanted to sleep that night. I think now I'm officially in a place where it would be impossible to be more tired, so I thought why not go for it lol.

In all seriousness, I was starting to resent him, resent the fact that The Hubbs hasn't had to get up with him since he started refusing the bottle at 10 months, and above all, I just felt like I was starting to lose my grip. I felt myself slipping into a bit of a depression, honestly, crying at the drop of a hat, and barely able to function during the day. Sleep deprivation will do that to you. It was time to make it stop.

The Method:
At first we were going to use the Dr. Jay Gordon method, which takes nine nights. You choose a seven hour period in which you don't want to nurse (he suggests 11-6). The first three nights you nurse your baby whenever they wake up, but you don't let them fall asleep on the breast. This is supposed to help break the association between milk and sleep. The next three nights you don't let them nurse at all, you just soothe other ways (rocking, singing, patting their back, talking, etc). The next three nights you don't nurse, and you soothe them very minimally. We were looking at this method because it can be done while bed sharing, and it doesn't require that you suddenly wean completely.

We were supposed to have started the night before (Friday night) but as I geared up for the fight night of step one, I realized that our Sweet Baboo doesn't nurse for very long OR fall asleep while still latched on. I'd be all ready to pull him off and make him fall asleep on his own, except he beat me to it. He would nurse for 30 seconds, then roll over and drift off by himself. So I called that night a freebie and decided just to scrap the next nights of step one all together.

The second modification we did to Jay Gordon's method is that we decided against having milk be allowed before 11 and after 6. I just thought it would be too confusing. Our Sweet Baboo doesn't go to sleep at the exact same time every night. Depending on the day he's had, and how tired he is, he goes to bed anywhere between 6:30 and 9:30. I just felt it was too arbitrary to assign certain times for him to not be able to nurse, because he doesn't know what time it is, know what I mean? And I get the idea of conditioning their biological clock to not nurse for a certain amount of time, but since his bedtime varies largely, I decided that I am just not going to nurse at all during the night. That way every time he wakes up he doesn't have to wonder if he can nurse yet. He just knows he can nurse when the sun comes up, and not before.

The First Waking:
So last night I nursed him to sleep as usual. Two hours later he woke up and wanted milk. I went in to bed and informed him that the milk had gone Night Night, and he could have some again in the morning. He, predictably, flipped out. He was MAAADDDDDDDDD. He cried, he tried to fight his way through the multiple shirts I was wearing to make this a little easier, he yelled "Milk!" over and over and over. After about a 40 minute tantrum, with me rocking him, singing, rubbing his back, and telling him that the milk was night night and he could drink it again in the morning, he decided he wanted to leave the bedroom. I knew that would happen, because whenever he can't sleep he decides he'd rather play. I decided to bring him out to the living room for awhile just so that he could take a breather and calm down, since he was so upset. I also let him have a sippy cup of water since our house can be dry. He drank it and seemed genuinely thirsty, so I'm glad I did that. I decided to keep the sippy in the bedroom from now on so he can access it at night if he needs a drink, since the milkshake shop is closed from here on out during evening hours.

The Second Waking:
When we went back to the bedroom half an hour later, I reminded him that the milk was sleeping for now and he would have milk in the morning. He wasn't happy. He cried and fussed, but he didn't scream like he had earlier. He was upset for about 20 minutes. This time I decied not to rock him or sing to him (which seemed to just rile him up more) but instead I just laid down and said "It's time for night night, come lay down beside mama and go to sleep." He sat still for a moment, considered this, then came over and laid down beside me. He snoozed for about 5 minutes, then woke up again. He fussed and tried to get milk for another two minutes, but when I asked him to lay down beside mama and go to sleep, be obliged. We slept for two hours.

The Third Waking:
He woke up again at around 2 a.m., but when I said "The milk is sleeping. Go to sleep," he cuddled up and nodded off immediately.

The Fourth Waking:
The next wake up was at 5, and I was tempted to give in since it was close enough to his normal waking time, but I really wanted him to grasp that we don't drink milk until we're up for the day. I didn't want him to be up for the day at 5, so I told him that the milk was sleeping and to go to sleep. He tried to get me to get up, saying "Go, go!" which is what he says when he's ready to get out of bed in the morning, but it was too early so I just told him it was still night time. He was upset for about 5 minutes, and tried physically prying my head off the pillow, but then he realized it wasn't going to happen and decided he'd deign to snuggle his mom and go back to sleep.

The Morning After:
When he woke up next, the sun was coming in behind the curtains, and I said "It's morning! The milk is awake!" He had a big smile and said "Milk!" I let him drink for as long as he wanted. When I looked at the clock, I was suprised to realize that it was 8 am! He never sleeps that late! Makes sense, though, since we had such a rough night. I hope tonight is easier. I'll keep you posted.

The Plague

2011-01-08T08:58:00.000-08:00

There is a decision I am years away from making. I know that I don't need to think about it right now, that I don't need to decide right now, that anything could happen over the next few years to tip the scales in one direction or another. I know this. But I can't stop thinking about it. It's consuming my thoughts. I dream about it at night. I go back and forth SEVERAL TIMES A DAY on what my decision will be. I kid you not, in the morning I am set in my resolve to do one thing, and by the afternoon I am equally resolved to do the opposite. This decision is something that other people seem to just instinctively know. But I don't, I really don't. This is the question. This is the dilemma:

Will we have any more kids?

I'm a planner. I like to plan. And we had a plan. A good one. It was that we'd finish school, get established in our careers, travel, buy a home, and then at 28 we would have a baby. Then we'd have another one almost immediately, resulting in two under two.

What is that saying about the best laid plans?

We had our son way earlier than we'd planned. About five years earlier, to be exact. So of course everything else fell out of sync, and the plan went with it. Right out the window. The Hubbs still isn't finished school. Neither of us have started our careers, because I'm home with our son. There's no time or money to travel right now, and we may have our home somewhere between the ages of 30 and 35 (5 to 10 years from now, if you aren't keeping track).

Money is a huge issue. They say it makes the world go round, but it also has the power to stop your world in its tracks, if you don't have it. And we don't. We can't financially manage to bring another kid into the world right now. But even when I do finally find a job, the Hubbs doesn't think he wants to have any more kids while he's in school. Did I mention that he's going for his PhD, and will be in school for 6 more years? That would be one hell of an age gap. Do I want to have my children be six years apart? Do I want to start ALL OVER with the breastfeeding and the diaper changing and the never sleeping through the night for years and years?

Unfortunately, my relationship with my own sibling is fraught, and that plays into my ambivalence quite a bit. I just don't know if I want to bring another child into our home who My Sweet Baboo may not get along with. What if they are like night and day? What if they can't stand each other? What if all they do is fight, and I spend the rest of my life being a referee instead of a mother?

What if Baboo is lonely? What if he has no one to play with? What if our vacations suck because there's no one around to do kid stuff with? What if he doesn't get married and have children of his own, and then the Hubbs and I die and he is just totally alone?

What if I bring a potential enemy of our child into our home? What if I deprive him of a best friend for life? I just don't know. I can't predict how my current child will turn out, and I have no idea who my next one will be either. It is a total crapshoot. I can't have another kid with the expectation that they will be a playmate and friend for my son.

So the question is, do I want another child? Not do I want my son to have a playmate and friend, but do I want another kid?

And the answer is, I don't know.

My Christmas Confession

2011-01-05T06:15:00.000-08:00

On Christmas day, we had a great morning. We opened gifts and our Babe had a blast, we had a yummy breakfast, we helped Baboo play with his new gifts, listened to Christmas music and watched Christmas movies. And then we packed up and got in the car to drive to our big extended family dinner. We were, of course, the first ones there. We arrived ten minutes late, but all the guests hadn't arrived until a two full hours after that. That's how my family rolls.

When my parents and sister finally arrived, I knew right away what had happened. Their expressions were drawn, their eyes were red, and their greetings strained. I had been a part of this scene for years before, so I knew. A talk with my mom later on in the evening confirmed it. There had been a huge fight that day, just as there usually was on special occasions. My family is pretty much incapable of just having a nice holiday. I don't know whether it's the fact that everything is supposed to be perfect on Christmas, so emotions are running high and everything gets blown out of proportion, but I have been a part of many ruined Christmases, birthdays, and Thanksgivings.

On my 16th birthday we were in Florida, and the night before my birthday I was watching a movie over at the condo of a friend I'd made at the resort. My father came over and yelled at me and forced me to leave in the middle of the movie, for absolutely no reason other than that he wanted me to come back. The next day I was so upset that my mother basically had to beg me to come to Disney World with them. I didn't feel like going anywhere with them, I just wanted to stay at the resort by myself.

Two Christmases ago, my father and my sister got into an argument on Christmas Eve, which resulted in him taking her $400 cell phone and smashing it to pieces. On boxing day, he took her out to buy her another, and then tried to convince her to get a cheaper one. He said, and I quote "The problem is that you got a cell phone that's too expensive." No, the problem is that you throw tantrums and vandalize others' property like a child, and then don't want to make up for it.

I have a lot of other stories like these ones, but I'll spare you. I found a quiet room to talk to my mom on Christmas, and she told me that he had screamed at my sister the entire. way. there. That morning when she'd given them their gifts (they didn't have any to give her, so desperate is their financial situation) he'd opened the mug, and then said "You think I want your stupid mug?" Yes, people. This is my father. And no, he wasn't drinking, this is actually just his personality. He then proceeded to yell at her the entire car ride to Christmas dinner. About what a crappy daughter she was. About how she does nothing for my mother. About how heartless of her it was to take off to Mexico over Christmas break instead of coming home and spending time with my mom, who just got out of the hospital (again). My mom said she just kept asking him to stop, over and over, but that he just refused. My mom isn't happy with my sister either, but she is wise enough to know that screaming at someone and ruining their Christmas (again) isn't the way to get them to come around more.

My confession is this. When they walked in the door, and I immediately realized what had happened, I was relieved. Relieved that I'd had a perfect Christmas morning with my little family. Relieved that I hadn't been there. Relieved that never again, would every holiday have to be ruined. I have my own family now. We have our own traditions. We have our own way of doing things, we are functional, and I don't have to be a part of that mess any more. My options for the holidays are no longer spend them with my dysfunctional parents or be alone. I am saved. I can breathe. And I'm relieved.

I feel guilty. Like I was in a war, and went AWOL, and left other men behind. But my relief and joy completely overpower that guilt. It is, after all, not my fault. I didn't create those conditions. I just survived them. And now I'm finally free to move on and create a new life for myself, and I have. So when I get down about our life not being perfect, about all the things that we don't have or can't afford, or about how difficult it is raising a spirited child with zero family support, I will go back to that moment at Christmas. The moment when I realized that I was free. And I will be thankful.

I'm reminded the words from a song by Nikka Costa, that I used to listen to all the time when I was in high school, dreaming of the day when I would be free.

Just like the earth has spent a thousand years making up for what we do. . .
Just like the heart that's spent a lifetime forgiving what is cruel. . .
Just like the sea has spent a thousand years at the mercy of the moon. . .
So have I for you.

You can choose the rain, but I choose the sun.
That's all I need to free myself.

(So have I for you, by Nikka Costa. Check it out. You'll be inspired).

Two More Sleeps!

2010-12-23T05:45:00.000-08:00

Christmas is only two days away, and I could not be more excited. Money is tight this year, so to ease the burden, we decided to do homemade Christmas for family. I have spent the past month baking cookies, making treats, making ornaments, and putting baskets together.

Image and recipe from Allrecipes.com

Image and recipe from Hershey.com

Image and recipe from BettyCrocker.com

Image and recipe from Allrecipes.com

Even though the idea of homemade Christmas came out of financial need more than anything else, I am thinking that I want to make it a tradition. I am already collecting recipes for homemade spice rub, roasted nuts, and this great salt scrub from Kelle Hampton's blog.

I am not just wanting to go all out with the homemade goodies for extended family, either. I am loving the idea of having a large homemade component for our own Christmas as well. As mentioned previously, I'm taking a sewing class in January and I have a (maybe too ambitious?) dream of making coordinating patchwork Christmas stockings for my family. I may even sew an extra one for a potential second child, though who knows if and when there even will be one?

And I love the idea of this homemade advent calendar by Martha Stewart. I'd fill each toddler sock with a Hershey's Kiss!

I LOVE the idea of this DIY play kitchen found on ohdeedoh.

Can you believe it was made from an old TV stand? Love it.

And of course there are the traditional photobooks, photo ornaments, and photo calendars easily found online.

I want my gifts for family and friends to be personal. I love the idea of Homemade Christmas to lessen the commercialism that is so common this type of year. Maybe one year I will succeed in having an entirely homemade Christmas.

So what are our plans for this Christmas?

Well, Christmas Eve will be just us three. We will stay home, eat yummies, drink cocoa, watch Christmas movies, and maybe take a snow dusted nature walk through the woods if the weather permits and the mood is right.

We will eat a simple dinner of beer and cheddar fondue, complimented by a sandwich table complete with chicken, cheeses, tomatoes, onions, pickles and stuffed olives.Before church we will each open one gift, and to our surprise it will be Pajamas to ensure that we are a) warm and cozy on the night before Christmas, and b) cute in photos the next morning. Our Sweet Baboo will also get a matchbox car, since let's face it, clothes are not exciting for kids.

Image from Pajamagram.com

We will then attend my parents' church. Ideally we'd be attending our own church, but theirs has child care on Christmas Eve night, whilst ours does not. Even if Our Sweet Baboo doesn't want to stay in the nursery, they have a big, usually empty balcony where we can sit and he can wander around. I love our small church, but it's not conducive to toddlers, since there's no out of the way places to sit with them where they won't disturb everyone else. Our church is having a wonderful candlelight service, which I am sad to miss, but at least at my parents' church I won't have to worry about my toddler accidentally lighting the place on fire. Hopefully this time next year we'll be at our church on Christmas Eve, but Christmas is about family, and I don't mind accomodating my little guy for one more year.

After church we are going to take a leisurely drive around to look at Christmas lights, and our babe will probably fall asleep in the car. I'll carry him up to our bed and snuggle him until he settles, and he will already be wearing his Christmas jammies so we won't have to worry about changing him. Then the Hubbs and I will put away all but his favourite doll, to make room for all the toys he'll be opening from Grandparents, Great Grand Parents, and of course, his own parents the next morning. We'll drink a few Christmas cocktails, maybe watch a cheesy Christmas special, then join our little guy in bed. And the next morning when we wake up it will be Christmas!!!!

We will spend a blissful day eating all day breakfast, enjoying our gifts, and being together, and in the early evening we will head over to my cousin's house where they are hosting an enormous dinner for our whole extended family. We will eat on our laps and enjoy our twice yearly get-together. Our little guy will fall asleep in the car on the way home, and I will carry him upstairs and tuck him in, then the Hubbs and I will crawl in beside him.

Our Tree

I'd love to hear your holiday plans, so feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you're up to! Hope your Christmas is Merry! See you in the New Year!

Progress Report: 101 in 1001

2010-12-17T05:17:00.000-08:00

I'm doing the 101 Things to do in 1001 Days challenge. Six hundred and forty some odd days to go, and I've made some more progress.

14) Learn to sew at least well enough to patch something or re-attach a button.
I haven't done this yet, but our community centre offers free sewing classes and I signed up! Classes start in January and are during the day, so unless I manage to get a job before then (doubtful), I will be taking ten weeks of sewing. Yay!

59) Take Baboo out on a sled in the snow

There wasn't enough snow to actually pull it, so he just sat on it. Hopefully we'll get more snow later this winter, but if not, at least I didn't miss the opportunity to *kind of* do it.

76) Go to the movies with Hubbs at least once

We went to see this movie when we visited the In Laws. They watched our Sweet Baboo, and we had two glorious hours to ourselves. This movie was a little much for this mama to handle, though. If you're sensitive and a toddler mom, bring tissues!!!

79) Shop at a Farmers Market

Also accomplished on our trip to the Hubbs' hometown. I got together with a college friend, and we strolled the farmers market, had lunch, tasted yummy organic wine, and caught each other up on our lives. It was fun.

101) Take a class for something I am interested in (glass-blowing, pottery, cooking, spanish, etc).
See number 14!

A Few of My Favourite Things: Winter Edition

2010-12-16T17:47:00.000-08:00

1. The first snowfall

My Sweet Baboo enjoying the first snow of the year.

2. Baking yummy treats

3. Holiday speciality drinks at Coffeeshops

4. Feeling warm and cozy after coming inside from a brisk winter walk

(Photo courtesy of As Seen on TV)

5. Buying and making gifts for friends and family

6. Getting holiday cards

7. Christmas music on the radio

8. Wrapping presents while watching cheesy Christmas specials

9. Looking at lights while driving around

10. The anticipation of the look on your toddler's face when he wanders out in the morning and sees all the colourful boxes.

Been busy! More to come!

101 Things to do in 1001 Days

2010-10-17T07:07:00.000-07:00

This update has been a long time coming, and I've been slowly plugging away at my goals. The clock is slowly slipping by, like sand through an hour glass, and I sometimes stop and wonder if I will succeed or if I will fail. Many of these goals aren't life-defining or earth-moving in and of themselves, but I think it's what these goals represent that counts. Namely, the ability to know that I am not all talk. The ability to look back on my year, or on the past 1001 days, and think "I grew. I learned. I changed. I became." It is so important to me to never be stagnant or complacent, but to always be striving to live my life to the fullest. So, my 101 Things to do in 1001 Days update. I haven't looked at these recently, so hopefully I'll find that I have actually accomplished something since my last update. If not, I will have to kick my own butt into gear.

1) Learn to crochet and complete at least five projects. This definitely isn't done, but I've made about one tenth of what is to be a massive blanket. I also plan on making little hats for the baby girls of two of my cousins. I'd make one for my Sweet Baboo, but he'd just rip it off. I'm looking for an ear flap hat for him that buckles under the chin, because that's the only kind I'll be able to keep on his stubborn little head.

2) Make an alphabet book for Baboo for his first birthday present. Yeah, fail. Here's what happened. I was going to make him the book, but then I figured I should probably wait until after his birthday so I could include photos from his birthday. And now it's October and I've decided that I'm going to scatch the alphabet book idea for now, and instead make him a board book from Photo Works, with pictures of him doing his favourite things. I've already put it together and just need to order it. I think I'll save the alphabet book for his second birthday, because the alphabet template can't be ordered in board book form, and he would just end up ripping it apart. So even though I didn't technically complete this goal, things change. Roll with it. I still think I deserve to check this off my list.

3) Collect and Perfect 10 new recipes. I'm up to 9! Thanksgiving pumpkin muffins and peppercorn lime chicken helped with that. Hopefully by Christmas I'll be able to add Grand Marnier Chocolate Mousse to the list, and then cross number 3 off entirely.

5) Do a photoshoot of Baboo every month until he's a year old. Done and done. Now I just need to find a frame that fits 12 photos and I can display it prominently on our wall.

9) Get a massage. As previously mentioned in a recent post, my first appointment with a massage therapist is scheduled for next Wednesday, and hopefully it'll be a weekly thing. I can't wait until I can return to feeling like a 20-something, rather than an old lady. That kid sure did a number on me while he was living on my sciatic nerve for 9 months.

12) Make Baboo a texture book. I did this! We are going on a little trip to visit the in-laws (which I am kind of dreading) later this month, and I have been planning ways to keep Baboo occupied on the four hour plane ride. This seems like as good a time as any to make him a texture book, so I am working on it, and it's almost done. Honestly, it's not the greatest, and I'd be surprised if it makes it through the entire plane ride there. Turns out I'm not as crafty as I'd like to believe. But I made it, and I guess that's what counts. I'll post a picture of it later.

19) Read ten books. Done and done. In no particular order: SAHM I Am, The Sounds of Us, Expectations, Novel About My Wife, The Other Woman, Going it Alone, The Wild Zone, The No Cry Sleep Solution, The Bag Lady Chronicles, A Million Miles in A Thousand Years.

88) Okay, so I am supposed to be moving my blog to wordpress. I am not going to do this anymore, and here's why. 1) It's too much of a pain in the butt. 2) Blogger now has all the things wordpress had that made me want to move. It now has the ability to add pages, and check stats, etc. So there's no reason to move. Also, I think I wanted to move back when I had illusions of actually being a popular mom blogger. Now that I realize that that isn't going to happen, and also don't care because I have more important goals than trying to get people to read my blog, I just can't be bothered. No offense to you guys or anything, I'm beyond thrilled that someone at least reads this thing. It's just that I've realized that I don't have it in me to be a real mom blogger. I don't have it in me to host giveaways, advertise, market myself, track down sponsors, etc, etc. I've always been a journaler, for as long as I can remember, and blogging is just so much easier than trying to write with a pen and paper when you have a toddler who tries to grab everything and anything out of your hands. I love having this place as an outlet, and having the ability to keep track of my goals and the happenings of my life here. But I guess I just got over my desire to be popular. I wasn't popular in elementary school, nor was I popular in high school, and I don't expect that to change on the internet. LoL. I will, however, be replacing goal 88 with something else. I just need to think of what it will be.

That's all for today! Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment sharing the goals you've accomplished over the past year or what you hope to accomplish during the next!

School Years Resolutions

2010-10-11T12:18:00.000-07:00

I read somewhere that when it comes to resolutions, Fall is the best time of year to make them. Apparently it has something to do with being inspired by the changing of the leaves. If you're a student, and/or have kids, then scheduling other changes during the natural change of going back to school is supposed to make goals easier to accomplish. I can definitely say that I am NOT inspired by the blah feelings that come with the end of the Christmas season, and 3 or 4 more months of wet, cold winter stretching out in front of me in January. I made some resolutions in September, but slacker that I am, I didn't blog about them until now. You might think that doesn't bode well for me actually keeping them, haha. I'm just going to say that I've been so busy trying to live my resolutions, that I haven't had a chance to blog about them. *wink wink*

One thing my life definitely needs is a handful of good friends. I've written here and there about attending a moms group in the past, but to be 100% honest with you, I just never felt like I gelled with the other women there. I felt like we were "friends" simply because we all have kids and stay home, and that was it. Of course, some of the other women bonded and were really close and that's great for them.

I mean no disrespect if you're this kind of Mama, but I personally have no interest in discussing my hair, or my nails, or whether my husband is doing a good job at being the leader of my home. Honestly, I mean no disrespect at all, but that's just not me. I'm the mom wearing yoga pants around all day without shame (I secretly can't wait to get my yoga instructor's certification so that I can have the excuse). I'm not the mom who sleep trained at 6 months (or ever) and has been getting beauty sleep for over a year now. I'm the crunchy, granola, Earth-Mama type who would have absolutely no issue having all her kids and the family pet in bed together if they made mattresses big enough. Just nothing in common, you know? I felt like I couldn't be related to, so I just stopped going. One of my goals for this school-year is to make a couple of good
friends.

Another goal is to do something about my back pain. I've had back issues since high school required that I keep a small library on my back at all times, but it's been really bad since carrying a kid on my sciatic nerve for 9 months. It took a full year after delivery for my hips to stop feeling like they were separating from my body whenever I walked, but my back is still a mess. I've decided that this year, I need to make my health a priority. I'm twenty-five years old, I should not be taking 3 extra strength Tylenols every night before bed until I've at least achieved Grandmother status.

I've made a doctor's appointment for tomorrow morning, and though I think it will just be a consultation, I'm excited about working out a treatment plan that will hopefully include chiropractic and massage. I'm going to need it if that fat kid still insists on me carrying him around several times a day. I kid. He's not fat. He actually has no fat on him whatsoever, and I'm honestly a little jealous. He is pure muscle, so still heavy--when we aren't calling him "Baboo", his nickname is Bam Bam.

I have also been working quite a bit on secret goal number 32, from my list of 101 Things to do in 1001 Days. I'm still not ready to reveal it, lest I die from embarassment, but I'm aiming for completion somewhere around January 2011. Go me!

Another thing I really want to do this year is go to counselling. I've been having a lot of anger issues come up lately, when I think about my childhood. I think they're resurfacing because of everything that's going on with my parents. I don't feel like getting into my frustrations right now, but I feel like I need to let go of those feelings and work through those issues while my Sweet Baboo is still a baby. I want to make sure I can be the best mom possible for him, and that I won't be repeating a cycle of emotionally damaging my kiddo(s) because I still have unresolved crappy feelings inside.

Lastly, I want to bring focus back to my relationship with the Hubbs. I feel like its just being pushed into the margins at all times. He does schoolwork all day, then he comes home and plays with our son, and then when our kid finally goes to sleep we have a little bit of time to ourselves. I've written before about trying to leave Baboo with people other than family, and it just NOT going well (ie, them calling us after half an hour because he screamed hysterically the entire time). Well, on Friday we decided we'd try it again. We left him at a child care program at the community centre, and he had a blast. We got some time to ourselves, and he played with the other kids and the teachers and didn't shed one tear the entire hour we were gone. I'm so relieved, and now we plan to have a standing date, at least twice a month, where we leave Baboo at the community centre (its a day program, but the perks of having a student hubby are that he's sometimes available during the day) and have a date. We'll just do lunch, take a walk, see a movie, or just come back home for "alone time" (bow chicka bow wow), but it will be glorious.

I'll keep you posted on my progress, and I know there's a MUCH overdue update needed on my 101 in 1001 goals. More on that later.

What are some things you hope to accomplish in the next year? Any tips to share on staying motivated?

My Slacker Thanksgiving

2010-10-10T16:00:00.000-07:00

Last year I wrote about my simple Canuck Thanksgiving Dinner, and how I hoped that next year I'd be able to go all out, since my baby would be older and require less attention. Now I just laugh at myself. Having a baby is a piece of cake compared to having a very active, very vocal 15 month old. Maybe next year I'll have the opportunity to make a turkey, but I now know enough not to bet on it. Regardless of how badly I slacked, and how the entire meal took maybe two hours to prepare, it was still highly satisfying. I think I've crossed over to the slacker dark side to stay.

My Slacker Menu:

(Instead of Turkey) Peppercorn Lime Chicken Breast:
-Boneless, skinless chicken breast, marinated in lime juice, basil, and cracked black pepper. Grilled on stove top for 20 minutes, topped with salsa. Easy and yummy.

Pillsbury Crescent Rolls:
It was extremely difficult figuring out how to open that cardboard tube and roll the pre-made dough, but I perservered.

Loaded Baked Potatoes:
The hardest part was putting the potatoes into the oven.

Ceasar Salad:
Lettuce (prewashed), croutons, bacon bits and mozzarella. Combine in bowl. Very challenging stuff.

Corn on the Cob:
Dump shucked corn in boiling water. Take out 20 minutes later. Slather with butter.

World's Easiest Pumpkin Muffins:
Combine one box of yellow cake mix and one can of pumpkin pie filling. Stir. Empty into muffin tins. Remove from oven 25 minutes later. Frost with Betty Crocker's Cream Cheese frosting (because why mess with perfection?). And they're Weight Watchers approved, to boot!

To drink we had the delicious sparkling cider that we bought at the Pumpkin Farm. The ambiance was set with a playlist of soothing music and pumpkin pie scented tealights. After dinner we took a nice, long walk through the nature conservation. It was a beautiful day.

The most beautiful thing about today for me, though, is the fact that I was bummed out about this Thanksgiving. Usually my extended family gets together at the holidays and its loud and festive and fun, but this year, with the economic hardships so many of us have been experiencing, as well as various health and personal problems throuhout the family tree, no one was up to hosting. At first I was fairly annoyed, stating that I'd host if we had a big enough place.

But then I thought, is more always merrier? Or is less sometimes more, even when it comes to family? I am definitely looking forward to Christmas, as I am assured that my aunt will be hosting and showing off her newest grandchild. But I had a wonderful Thanksgiving, just me and my little family. We made our own traditions and memories, complete with slacking, and it was relaxing and wonderful. No long drives to someone's home hours away. No waiting two hours past T-time (T is for turkey ;) ) for the last straggler to finally show up, while the rest of us starve and get increasingly grumbly. No squashing 60+ relatives into one home, balancing plates on our laps because there's no one with a table big enough to seat all of us. No chasing my toddler around an un-baby proofed house and trying to keep him from destroying someone else's things.

Just me and my guys. Eating a relaxing dinner. Going for a nice, long walk. Kicking a soccer ball around outside (because my 15 month old is already obsessed). It was a great Thanksgiving. And I am Thankful.

The Pumpkin Patch Was Bliss

2010-10-06T05:21:00.000-07:00

We went to the pumpkin patch. It was so much fun. Just when I think that having a toddler is about to make me pull my hair out, I get a day like that, and it reminds me how great this age can be. Sure, the screaming fits in stores are no fun. The demanding to watch Muppets music videos all the live-lone day can grate the nerves. And I could definitely do without the screaming any time the Hubbs and I are paying attention to each other instead of him.

But the pumpkin patch was bliss. If I could move to that farm, I would.

We made animal friends. (And said the word "dog" for the first time!)

We climbed on the hay jump.

We took a hayride.

We picked pumpkins.

We drank delicious apple cider. The hot mulled kind for the Hubbs and I, the cold refreshing kind for Our Sweet Baboo. We also may have picked up a bottle of sparkling cider to drink with Thanksgiving dinner.

Barrels, and tractors and trikes, oh my!

Last year our three month old spent the day snuggling against us in the baby sling. This year we couldn't stop him from exploring every nook and cranny of that farm. I can hardly wait for next year, and two year old adventurous goodness. I think I've found my new favourite family tradition.

Why I'm Never Going to the Playground Again

2010-09-30T12:44:00.000-07:00

Today I was feeling guilty because I rarely take my son to the playground. We go to the library, the community centre, shopping, and for long daily walks. As soon as he gets over this cold we will start swimming. Still, he loves the playground and I should take him more often. So I put him in our cheap umbrella stroller (because our good stroller is too difficult for me to lug up and down the stairs of our walk-up), and we set off.

Halfway through our journey, I remember why we don't make this trek more often. Though there are about 3 elementary schools less than a ten minute walk away from us, none of them have playgrounds. In my opinion, this is a travesty, but I'll save that for another post. There are no playgrounds anywhere around. We have to walk at least 25 minutes to get to one, which may not seem so long. But then there's the actual playing, and then the 25 minutes back, and. . .

Anyway. When we finally arrived, I came to the end of the path, and remember the second reason why we don't do this more often. There are hiking and biking trails all through our city (one great thing about this crappy town), but for some reason they stop short of any playround structure. So I had to push my flimsy stroller across a giant, wet football field (apparently it rained last night) to get to the equipment. By the time I arrived, my feet were soaked.

I pushed my kid in the swing for awhile, but his eye kept going back towards a red soccer ball that someone had left behind (along with two pairs of shoes and socks--WTH?). He kept pointing and saying "Ba, ba" and because I am just so proud of him for picking up this new word, I decided to put him out of his misery and play a little ball with him.

We chased the ball through the wet grass. I kicked it to him, and then he'd pick up up and throw it back to me. It was rather unfortunate that he hasn't grasped the concept of soccer, because his hands were all wet and covered in sand and grass in no time at all.

Pretty soon a man arrived with his dog. His giant dog. One that resembles a wolf. He was trying to pull his dog away from us, I was trying to keep my son away from him, but of course both the baby and the dog wanted to be friends and it was a little bit of a challenge ensuring that my kid didn't run over there and poke the poor man's dog in the eyes. Or that the poor man's wolf-dog didn't bite my kid's face off.

When that crises was averted, we went back to playing ball. I noted that the umbrella stroller was much easier to push through the grass when My Sweet Baboo wasn't in it, so I thought, 'we'll continue to play ball, and we'll kick/throw the ball in the direction of the path while I push the stroller, and then when we get to the path the game will be over and we'll head home.'

I swear Baboo figured out what I was thinking, because the minute I started to push the stroller over, he took off in the other direction. I repeatedly tried to kick the ball in the general direction of the path, and he repeatedly threw it the other way and ran off laughing. Eventually he spotted a juicebox in the storage compartment of the stroller and toddled over to take a look. I seized this opportunity to grab him and strap him in, and he was not happy. He started to holler, and he hollered all the way home. No amount of juice boxes or Cheese Ritz could appease him. 25 minutes with a screaming toddler, hollering at the injustice of not being able to live at the park, is enough to drive anyone loca.

And that's why I'm never going to the playground again.

A rare photo of my actual kid.

Where will you never again go? Tell me I'm not the only one whose had a monstrous experience somewhere that should have been fun!

A Few of My Favourite Things: Fall Edition

2010-09-21T01:47:00.000-07:00

10. Hot apple cider

9. Corn mazes

8. Our annual trip to the pumpkin patch for hay jumps, tractor rides and photos

7. Candles that smell like pumpkin pie, mulled cider or creme brulee

6. The chance to photograph spectacular changing colours

5. Being reuinted with old, comfy sweaters

4. Shorter days that make kids go to bed earlier and sleep in later

3. The sound and smell of leaves crunching under my feet

2. Thanksgiving get-togethers with my massive extended family

1.Seeing my Sweet Baboo all dressed up in his costume, then eating his candy ;)

Add yours below!

Meet the Thrifty's (Part 2)

2010-09-09T17:20:00.000-07:00

Safe for our active kiddo to crawl around on.

When it comes to cleaning, it's so easy to both be green and save green. I have super cheap methods of keeping my house germ-free, while also protecting the environment and my family from harmful toxins. Ever since our Sweet Baboo was born, I've wanted to keep chemicals away from him. I've been making my own cleaning supplies with nothing but water, vinegar, baking soda, lemon juice, salt and essential oils. I feel really good knowing that my son is crawling around on a floor that's been cleaned with things that are harmless enough to squeeze on our salmon or flavour our french fries. I keep all cleaning materials away from him, but I know that even if he were to somehow scale the baby gate and unlatch the child safety on the cupboard, he'd find nothing but things that are essentially harmless.

Another benefit of this that I've LOVED, is the lack of waste. I don't have to buy supplies that come in their own plastic bottles every time I run out of cleaning products. I bought plastic spray bottles at the dollar store over a year ago, and I mix my cleaning supplies in those. For mopping, I either spray a re-usable microfiber cloth mop that I throw in the washing machine,

or I use a bucket, which I can also obviously reuse. It's great for the environment, great for my budget, and great for my family! Hope you find these recipes helpful.

All Natural Cleaning Supply Recipes:

Toilet Bowl Cleaner:

Combine Lemon Juice and Baking soda to make a paste.

Apply to toilet brush and clean under rim.

Put a cup of vinegar into the toilet tank and let sit for 30 minutes.

Optional: Add an essential oil, such as teatree oil or orange oil, to cut vinegar smell.

Hardwood Floor Cleaner:

2 cups vinegar

1 gallon of water

1/2 a cup of lemon juice

Tile Cleaner:

1/4 cup of vinegar

1 gallon water

optional: 8 drops essential oil

Window Cleaner:

2 cups water

2 tbs vinegar

1 tbs dish soap

Tap Cleaner:

Make a paste with lemon juice and baking soda. Scrub with old toothbrush.

Evolution of a Dream

2010-09-01T07:24:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I sat in a cramped school hallway, painted pea-soup green. My hands gripped the arms of a faux leather chair, and I smoothed and re-smoothed my hair, my clothes, and the piece of paper that was my job references. A fluorescent light flickered above my head, and a fly buzzed lazily around a pile of cardboard boxes. I prayed because I wanted the job. I told God this was my dream.

Compared to what I pictured myself doing when I was younger, this dream seems small. I think most people would squint and wonder why I would want to do this. Why I would want to while away my days here. And the truth is, I guess I wasn't being entirely honest with the Man Upstairs when I told him that this was my dream job. It was more that this school program, run by this popular not-for-profit organization, was my chance. My foot-in-the-door to bigger and better things in the not-for-profit world. This organization has so many different areas that I could work in. If I ever got bored or burned out on one, there would always be something new to do. From early childhood education, to teaching, to career counselling, to parent support workshops, from recreation to group homes to working with the differently-abled. It's a not-for-profit employee's dream. It's my dream. Still, I wondered what brought me here, to this place, where I was crossing my fingers and whispering silent prayers that they would choose me.

The first thing I wanted to be when I grew up was an actress. I wanted to be on TV, because even though movie stars got all the glory, I knew, even at the age of 10, that I wanted to play one character for years. I wanted to figure out and become that person. I wanted a chance to really get to know them.

The next thing I thought about being was a writer. I loved writing. Fiction, essays, opinion pieces, poems, even song lyrics. I rocked English class from the age of twelve on, and of course, loved the idea of creating a character. I felt that I was building a person. The thing that, once again, appealed to me most about writing, was conveying a personal truth--either through creating a fictional character that was as real to me as I was, getting my own thoughts on paper in a way that made them make sense to others, or writing a poem or song about how I felt about something or someone. It was about connecting, about drawing out my inner life (or the inner-life of some imagined person) and making sense of it.

Enter high school. I took a mandatory career studies class in my second year of high school. We had to do a series of assessments to find out what jobs we'd be best suited for, and I was matched with Child and Youth Worker. I hadn't even known that that was a job, but it made perfect sense to me. I would counsel children and youth. I loved children. I'd been baby-sitting since sixth grade, and always preferred to spend my Sunday mornings at church helping out in the nursery rather than attending Sunday school myself. I liked kids. I liked getting inside people's heads. I cared about social issues. I would help kids by getting inside their heads and helping them overcome their issues.

That summer I went away to camp, and we had a speaker who talked about all of this inner-city work that he did. He invited us to come for a few weeks later that summer and work in inner-city Toronto with at-risk youth. I immediately knew that I needed to be there.There were no ifs, ands or butts. I had to go. And I did. And it was everything I thought it would be, and more. It was as though everything inside me, my past, my future, everything, just came into focus and clicked. I wanted to spend my life on the mean streets, handing out sandwiches, talking to people about their futures, encouraging them and helping them find necessary services.

I even went to college for a program geared towards preparing people to work with the high-risk population in the inner city. I was dismayed to find out that since only 6 people registered for the program, by the end of my first year, it was cancelled. However, now I am so thankful that that happened. I transferred into the counselling program, which allowed for a much wider range of what I'm able to do. I can basically do anything that requires working with and helping people, and I'm not limited to the inner city, which is a good thing.

Let me tell you something that I'm not necessarily proud of:

I don't want to work in the inner-city anymore. And you know what did it? Living here. It's one thing to come down from a comfy suburb and hand out sandwiches and talk to colourful people (something I did all through high school and college). It's another thing entirely to live among them. To listen to their domestic disputes and hope they don't taint your child. To deal with the fact that they care so little about their own community that they would literally rather chuck their garbage all over the nature conservation area, than walk ten feet to a trash can. To step around the broken glass bottles all over the side walk, the thudding music through the night on the weekends, and the fact that no schools anywhere around here have any playground equipment for my son to play on.

I don't like these people. I don't. I'm not going to lump them all into one group, because I know that there are obviously exceptions to what I see and observe. I know that in this neighbourhood there are probably a lot of good parents. I know there are probably a lot of people who don't litter, who don't blare their music, and who don't beat their spouses. But the ones who do overshadow the ones who don't. I don't want to live here and I don't want to work here. I'm done. Especially because I have a child now to think about.

So. That leads me to where I am now. My current dream. Community Services Worker of some kind. I will not be approaching people on the streets to tell them about help they can receive. I will not be going to their shelters or offering them blankets as they sleep on sidewalks. I will work with the people who care enough to want to better their lives. The people who care enough that they come to me. I want to work with parents who want to better their relationship with their children, not those who were ordered to by the courts. I want to work with kids who want to get ahead, not those who have to choose community service or juvie.

I've been poor. I've been desperate. I've been damn-near hopeless. And I think that experience has made me see that there is help available. Everyone has a choice about what kind of life they're going to live. Anyone can get an education. Anyone can get counselling. Anyone can get emergency housing. For every problem (at least in Canada), there is a service. You just have to find it. I want to work with the people who care enough about themselves to seek out help. Those are the people who will ultimately succeed.

That's my dream.

Random Updates

2010-08-23T08:09:00.000-07:00

Today I'm going to visit my mom. She really wants to convince my father to sell the house that they can no longer (couldn't ever, really) afford and move to a small bungalow, before the bank makes them do it.

So I am going over laden with boxes, to help her start packing. They have a TON of junk in the basement, and when they do eventually move (either voluntarily or by force), I want most of their stuff to already be packed so they don't have more stress on top of everything else.

I basically told my mom that I think she should just take charge. She should call a realtor, tell him she's selling the house, and just do what she needs to do, regardless of what my father thinks/says/does. Whenever I talk to my mom, she dwells so much on her regrets. The other day we came to the conclusion that most of the things she regrets are not things she did, but rather things that she allowed my father to do. Things she just went along with, because he wouldn't listen to her. I told her that she can't go back, she can only go forward, so she needs to make sure that she doesn't just agree to stay in the house and let the bank take it, even when she knows that's the wrong thing to do. She needs to take control, and I'm going to help her.

In other news, the father has finally decided that this whole get-rich quick pyramid scheme he's involved in is not working out as he'd hoped.

He has finally decided to look into going back to school. Since he was in the auto industry, there is a government program that will pay for his schooling and living expenses so that he can re-train. He loathes the idea, but finally realizes that he has no other choice. I am very happy about this. An education is worth so much. If someone offered me a free education I'd jump for joy. I think he's secretly afraid to fail. And it must be embarassing starting completely over at the age of 51. But hey, if he'd finished his degree back when he was in his 20s, he wouldn't be faced with this now. All choices eventually catch up with you.

On to me. I have been applying for jobs every day. Someone asked awhile back what type of work I was looking for. I'm looking for any job related to the human services field. These include (in the order in which I want them):
-Career counselor
-Student services counselor (at a college)
-Recreation co-ordinator (at a community centre)
-Early Childhood Educator (day care, preschool or before and after school program)

These are the types of jobs that I have mostly applied for. I guess because of the recession, there have been a LOT of posting for career counselor type positions, but so far I haven't even been called for an interview. There have also been a decent amount of postings for the other jobs I've listed. I hope something turns up between now and next fall. Otherwise we'll really have a problem.

As for Our Sweet Baboo, he is doing wonderfully. Allow me to take a second to shamelessly brag about all the adorable things he does:
He takes my or the Hubbs' keys and goes over to the front door and tries to open it.
He can say Mama, Dada, Night-night, and Banana.
When you say "Yay!" he claps.
When you say "How big is Baboo?" He raises his hands in the air while one of us says "soooo big."
He takes his toothbrush and tries to brush his own teeth.
He takes a brush and tries to brush his own hair.
He can identify his hair, his feet, and his teeth.
He knows when his diaper is getting uncomfortable and will do the sign for diaper, and bring us a new one.

Now on to some of his more frustrating habits:
He insists upon closing the door to his bedroom while he's inside, and then cries because he can't get out.
He persists in taking off my glasses and throwing them across the room.
He refuses to wear a hat outside.
He will not TOUCH a vegetable. Well, that's not true. He'll take a bite, make a face, and then throw it on the floor. Sigh.
He flat out refuses to be weaned. He has stopped taking a bottle altogether and it is driving me bananas.
Everyone says he is the busiest, most active baby they're ever seen.
He wants to get out of his stroller and run around in public, but he refuses to hold our hands, making that impossible.

The Hubbs: He's on the Dean's List again for the summer semester! Woohoo! I am so proud of him :D He is a smart, sexy stud.
I also envy him. While I am SO GLAD that I am finally done school, being a student came with a certain lack of pressure. I could work at a dead-end job in a clothing store or a coffee shop without shame, because this wasn't what I was really doing with my life--I was a student. But now that I'm done, there is a lot of pressure. I need to find a job, and I really, really want it to be at least tangentially related to my field of study. I absolutely MUST have something by next fall. If I haven't found a job that is on the list above by spring, then I am just going to start applying for any job around. It would suck, but I know that I need to find work, and of course I can always keep looking for something in my field while working in retail (barf--no offense to anyone who does this, it's just not for me) or at Starbucks. At least the free coffee would be appealing, and I've heard their benefits are great.

On the downside, I'd have to learn all that fancy coffee speak :/

Meet the Thriftys (Part 1)

2010-08-11T13:12:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about money. We don't have much (as a student and a recent graduate looking for a job, things are tight). But I want to do the best we can with what we have. I recently read the really short and simplistic book, How to Get Rich without Winning the Lottery. Like I said, the book was very simple, but it did help me change the way I think about certain things. The atuthor is of the impression that wealth means not having to work. His basic idea is that people should invest their money in a fairly high yield fund, get large returns over 20 or so years, and then retire early and live off their investments until the age of 65 when social security kicks in. I'm not of the same mind. First of all, his method assumes that people want to maintain the same lifestyle forever. So if someone makes $19 000 a year, that's what they should be living off forever in order for his plan to work. He also doesn't factor in the idea that one could lose their investments (the higher yield, the riskier they are) or that the government is saying that social security might not always be there. I also want to work. I want to have a career, so not having a job is not a goal of mine. Nonetheless, it still had some good principles.

The main thing I took away from the book is that no matter how little you have, you should always be investing or saving something. If it is absolutely impossible to live off a penny less than what you are making, then you should simply make more money. The book includes a brain storming session on how to do this, most of which include starting up a side business, getting a part time job, or working over time. I was inspired by this, so I called my church and asked them if I could get back on staff as a member of the child care team. I will only be working a few hours one day a week, but I can use that money to save and then eventually invest.

I've also come up with a meal plan. People always say one of the best ways to save money is to plan your meals, so I decided to give it a shot. Honestly, I hated it. It was much more confusing than something that sounds so simple should be (mainly trying to figure out what amount of food would make how many servings, etc), so you know what? My family and I are going to be eating the exact same weekly menu for awhile now lol. I'm just not making one every week. I just can't. We can swap some items out, though, so we don't go insane from the monotony. For instance, we usually have chicken, but this week steak was cheaper so we bought that instead. We buy one type of meat each week in a mid-sized quantity, and we usually only have meat once a day, if that. We cut the chicken (or pork, or steak) into strips and cook it. We then separate it into different containers for different days. Tonight we're having chow mein with veggies and steak. Tomorrow we will probably have homemade pizza with pepperoni and vegetables, but the next night we will have steak fajitas, another day steak and rice, etc.

We also don't eat the exact same snacks through the week, but it follows a basic plan. We're a pretty snacky family, so we make sure we have stuff to munch on when we're out and about so that we don't get hungry and want to buy fast food. On the menu for one snack a day I have written "fruit", then when we do the shopping I simply buy whatever fruit is on sale. This week we got clemetine oranges and strawberries (which our Baboo LOVES), last week it was apples and bananas.

I'm pretty happy with this new plan. We have three meals and three snacks a day planned out, at a budget we can afford. It's very exciting.

Some Low-Budget Meal Ideas (they are simple because I don't have time to be fancy):
-Crock Pot Chilli (we make ours with ground turkey) and garlic toast
-Grilled PB&J
-Tuna Casserole
-Chow Mein
-Meatball Subs
-Breakfast for dinner
-Soup, sandwhich and salad
-Shell Noodle Lasagna
-English Muffin Pizzas
-French Bread, Cheese and Wine (with grapejuice for the kiddo)

Low Budget Snack Ideas:
-Microwave Popcorn
-Homemade cookies
-Homemade muffins
-Homemade biscuits (easiest and fastest thing to make, ever)
-Pitas with hummus
-Cheese and crackers
-fruit salad

For Kids:
-Fruit
-raisins
-granola
-cheerios
-shredded cheese
-yogurt
-applesauce
-mini bagels w/ cream cheese

Aside from food, we've decided to live on cash. We are going to take out our weekly spending money, separate it into evelopes labelled, for instance, "gas", "food", etc, and when the money runs out each week, that's it. I read that its much easier to live off cash than debit if you're sticking to a budget because your brain actually releases negative feelings associated with parting with cash. You don't get that reaction when you're just swiping a card.

So, that's the beginning of our new (even more) frugal existence. I'll keep you posted, and share a low-budget recipe or two.

Mom and Baby Sick Kit

2010-08-01T19:23:00.000-07:00

The kiddo is sick. His nose is runny, and all signs point to a sore throat and headache too. Poor little guy. Last time he was sick, The Hubbs and I were sick as well. We were all sick for weeks and it was terrible. This time, at the outset of the illness, I decided to put together a sick baby & mama kit, so if he takes me down with him, we'll have everything we need to get through the illness right here. There's nothing worse than having to schlep your delirious self to the store and try to decipher which remedies will help you feel better when you feel so bad you can barely stand. Without further ado, the kit:

California Baby Cold & Flu Decongesting Bubble Bath (13.99).: All natural and safe for you and baby.

Budget Alternative: Life Brand Soothing Bubble Bath contains menthol and eucalyptus to clear your sinuses.

Hydra Sense:

You put the bulb inside the baby's nose, and suck on the tube. Sounds gross, but there's a filter inside to make sure you don't get anything unsavory in your mouth. The most effective way I've found to remove baby boogies.

Portable DVD Player: Because if You're bedridden, you might as well be entertained.

Vicks Baby Rub: Will help ease baby's congestion while they sleep, and if you're into infant massage, it'll soothe any sore little muscles.

Cool Mist Humidifier:

I prefer these to the ones that emit steam, because there's less risk of accidents or injury that way. These simply release cool water droplets into the air to keep your sinuses from getting too dried out.

Del Monte Real Fruit Bars: Nothing soothes a sore throat like a delicious popsicle--especially a guilt-free (and fat free!) one made with real fruit, so it's safe to share with baby.

Books:

When my Sweet Baboo is sick, it's one of the only times when he'll just be mellow. To take advantage of that, I make sure to have lots of books around so I can capitalize on the extra snuggle time.

I try to skip medicating my baby, but when he has a fever, infant tylenol helps.

And some for me. Because sinus headaches are a bitch.

If the bedroom becomes boring and you need a change of scenery, a cozy throw in the living room is a must. This 100% cashmere blanket is only $99.00 from Amazon.

Budget Alternative: The super soft BLASTIS blanket from Ikea is only $9.99.

Get Well Soon!

Best Years of My Life

2010-07-31T06:25:00.000-07:00

I would like to talk to you about a little pet peeve of mine. Actually, it's quite possibly my number one pet peeve, and has been for over ten years. I hate it when people say that high school is the best years of your life. Hate it.

I remember being thirteen, and adults would laugh at me and tell me that these would be the best years of my life. And I would shudder, and tell them, "No way."
They'd say "Just wait. You'll see."
Well, I've waited. And I've seen. And I will tell you, as someone whose been out of my teens for 6 years now, high school was definitely not the best time of my life. Definitely not.

I was not carefree. I moved out at 17 to get away from my abusive father. I spend my pre-teen and teen years listening to my parents scream at each other for hours on end, and since I was a child I've witnessed domestic violence.

I battled debilitating depression. Depression so bad that each night I thought I would not wake up the next morning. I was in a hole so deep that I tried to cut out the darkness with a razor. I was in a hole so deep that I alternately tried eating my way out, and then starving out the pain. I was in a hole so deep that I spent a year in a pot-induced fog by day, and an alcohol induced one by night. High school for me represents despair. And I had parents who were too damaged and self-absorbed to notice.

I had parents who thought that my depression was the result of demon posession one moment, and was merely an attitude problem the next. I had parents who thought that the best way to get rid of my depression was to scream "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO US?" at me. I had parents who hit me when I questioned my sexual identity, yet called me a whore the first time I kissed a boy.

High school was not the best years of my life. Not by a long shot.

When I went away to college, clear across the country, I could breathe for the first time. I had to pay bills. I had to buy food. I had to wake myself up in the morning, put myself to sleep at night, and nagivate a new city all on my own. I didn't feel trapped. I felt free. The depression my parents were never competent enough to make sure got treated? I found a doctor who helped me find the right medication, and I've been doing so much better ever since.

Wanting to kill myself is a distant memory. Being too sad to go to work is a distant memory. Living with roomates was the sweet calm I needed after living in a house full of tension and rage. Living with my husband was even better. The freedom to choose happiness, to choose to surround myself with people who are positive and loving, to define my own household and my own future has been invaluable.

I would much rather deal with the stress of having to pay the bills, than deal with what I dealt with growing up. My childhood and adolescence were birthing pains, and when I left I was born into a new life full of possibility and hope.

My Hypothetical Son

2010-07-30T07:12:00.000-07:00

I realize that some of you may be wondering what my son looks like. I won't post a picture of him, but what I will do is show you what the bump baby morpher thinks my son should look like. Feast your eyes on this cutie:

My favourite part is the hat. You can decide for yourselves whether my Sweet Baboo is more or less attractive than this kid. Also, why's he white?

Keeping up with the Psychos

2010-07-28T13:39:00.000-07:00

I know I fail as a blogger. I update this thing so sporadically that I'd be surprised if any of you are still with me. This is partially due to the fact that my life is crazy (whose isn't?) and partially due to the fact that once something becomes a chore that I have to do, I lose interest.
So when I tell myself "I really should blog", then I instantly do not want to.

Another thing is, this blog is a place for me to go through and sort out my thoughts. On days when I got for long walks with my Sweet Baboo, I sort my thoughts out while wandering through the nature conservation, so when I get back to the computer my thoughts are all sorted out. I blog in my head, if you want to know the truth.

Anyway, now that we've established the fact that I'm lazy and weird, we'll move on.

Right now I am feeling the pressure. I'm feeling the pressure of looking for a job, even though it is not imperative that I find one until next September--over a year from now.

I'm feeling the pressure of having parents who are really struggling, and having other relatives who seem to think that it's my responsibility to somehow pick up the pieces of their lives. And I just. can't. do it.
I have a VERY active son, our family has one car that The Hubbs usually has with him, I live two towns away from my mother. I cannot be over there every other day. Gas is expensive. I don't have the time, I don't have the energy, and even if I did, the house isn't the best place for my kiddo, to tell you the truth.

It's not baby proofed at all. I spend the entire time chasing him around, pulling him out of dangerous cabinets and stopping him from toppling over glass vases. My parents' house is that irritating open-concept, so the doorways to rooms are gaping and there's no way I baby gate could block it. Even the entrance to the stairs is that way--my kid is constantly booking it up the stairs, full of glee, while we huff and puff after him and try to stop him from falling down head first. The stairwell is to wide for a gate.

Those aren't the only problems, though. I hate to say this, it shames me to my core, but I just don't enjoy my mother's company any more. I would hate for her to find that out. I love her very much, and of course I always will, but she is just so down all the time.

Of course she's down. She's really sick, she's financially strapped and married to a husband who is working his BUTT off. But the problem isn't that he's working his butt off, the problem is that he's working his butt off at a pyramid scheme that is just not paying out what he's been promised. He is too stubborn and prideful to stop, but in the meantime they've missed a mortgage payment, his old job suffered massive cuts due to the collapse of the auto industry, and he is not making ends meet.

This stresses me out beyond belief. I can only imagine how stressed out my mom is. She's way too sick to work and wants so desperately to get better so she can find a job and dig them out of this rut. I feel for her. I really do. I just don't know how to help her, and that makes me feel panicky and guilty and useless all at once. I hate all of it.

And I blame my father. The worst thing about going over there is when he randomly pops home between "appointments." I just don't like him. He's not a nice guy, he abused us all for years, and though he promises he's changed, I simply don't believe him. Even my kid doesn't like him. The Hubbs says its because Baboo can tell he's a phony.

I don't just blame him because he's not the best guy. I blame him because it's his fault. It truly is. He's the one who took his package from the car company because he thought he "might" get laid off. He's the one who passed up the chance for the government to pay for him to retrain for a new career because he didn't want to go back to school. He's the one who thought a multi-level marketing scheme would be a better way to make a living, because he bought into the lie of "owning his own company" and "being his own boss." He's the one who turned down the perfectly nice, older, smaller (read: cheaper) home that my mom wanted to buy, in exchange for the rambling, mini-mansion that they bought but couldn't afford.

He's the one who added a bunch of extras onto his parting "gift" from the car company, so that the huge, gas-guzzling SUV turned out to cost $15, 000 rather than be free.

Oh yes. All of these things are his responsibility. And he is the one who is STILL paying off the *free* car, so now he can't even sell it to pay for his bills, because he technically doesn't even own it!

Yes, I am bitter. Oh, so bitter. Bitter that my poor, sweet, sick mother has to deal with this. Bitter because they say her illness is a cause of change of life hormones + STRESS (Read: Financial instability! Crappy marriage!)

I have to remind myself, though, that my mother is not totally innocent here either. He's been terrible with money since they married, and she has stayed with him. He has been controlling and abusive since they married, and she's stayed with him. Even when, as a 12 year old, I begged her to leave and take me with her. She was too scared to start over, so she stayed. And now she's screwed and stressed. And she's so sick, FROM STRESS, that she couldn't leave now even if she wanted to. Kind of a catch-22, huh?

My husband is crazed writing exams, and I have family members calling me and asking me to pony up dosh for my mom's medication. Umm, my husband's a student and I'm a stay at home mom.

We live in a tiny apartment down the street from a crack den (Okay, maybe I'm not sure about the crack den, but it's certainly possible. This place is a hole). We rely on our baby bonus to our bills. We drive a car that is older than we are.

Where do people imagine that I have all of this extra money? And I know it's sad to say, and sounds horrible, but honestly, my parents' situation is my parents' fault. Which kind of makes it their problem. I want my mom to be able to afford her medication. I want them to make their mortgage payments and be able to eat. I do. But honestly?

Our community centre gives away free grocery bags of fresh produce on Mondays, and I've been. I've taken the walk of shame and filled a bag with tomatoes, pineapple and grapes because we are poor and we could use the help. We don't have cable. We only have internet because my husband needs it for school, and I need it to look for work. We never go out. And we are both willing to make the time and sacrifice necessary to go to school and better our lives so that we can make a better life for our son.

My parents drive a brand new truck. My parents live in a giant house. My parents have gorgeous leather furniture and a really nice, NEW dining room table that they had to get because it is such a good deal ($400!? When they have no steady income!?). Their bedroom furniture costs a couple grand.

Our furniture is a travesty. Our couch is 25 years old and it is the couch my sister was BORN on. It's been cleaned since then, but still. Our other couch is a futon with a broken spring so your butt sinks down when you sit on the left of it. Our coffee and kitchen tables are from Ikea. Our computer desk was a hand-me down and the desk in our kitchen was pulled out of someone's trash. Our mattress is duck taped together.

My parents have cable. So why is it that it should be my responsibility to drive my 20 year old car over to their giant house, and hand over any of the limited money we've scrimped to save, so that they can pay for things that they would easily be able to afford if their entire lives didn't revolve around image? If they had bought the small house (hello, they're empty-nesters). If they had bought an older car. If they had NOT quit their jobs without having steady income lined up? If they had not counted on receiving an accident settlement that, after five years, still has yet to materialise?

I'm frustrated and sad, but I don't know what I can do. Trying to keep my own little family afloat is difficult enough. If they lose their home, if they end up having to move into subsidized housing for awhile, or apply for social assistance, maybe that will be their rock bottom. Maybe they need to hit rock bottom in order to realize that they can't go on like this.

This may sound callous, but I am so grateful, so grateful that The Hubbs and I seem to have hit our rock bottom the year that I was pregnant with Baboo. I'm grateful that we are both only 25, but we've learned the lessons that my parents only now seem to be learning. And as bad as this sounds, I'm grateful for their example because I've learned from their mistakes. When we purchase our first home (we calculate we should be able to in 4-5 years), I will put in a little bachelorette suite for my mom and she can come live with us.

As for my father? Heaven help him. I hope he will become a better guy. I hope this crisis will be a catalyst for change. They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but I have hope. It might be small and it might burn out completely from time to time, but its there.

Working mom?

2010-07-06T06:45:00.000-07:00

I have started looking for a job.

Before I had kids, I couldn't imagine leaving them to go to work until they were in school. I thought it would be incredibly difficult and not something at all that I wanted to do. When my Sweet Baboo was born, I thought I'd stay home until he was three. As the first year went by, I thought, maybe two. Not that I wanted to leave him, but I worked hard for my degree and I don't want it to become obselete because I got it, then stayed home for several years, thus not keeping up to date in my field. My son turns one in less than two weeks, and I am looking for a job.

The main reason for this is the economy. I may not want to go back to work for another year, but if I start looking in a year, it could be another year, or even two, before I find anything. That would just be no good. The idea that I could be back in the workforce, with my kid in day care in a matter of weeks terrifies and exhilirates me. I love my kid (as all moms do), but honestly, I'm getting bored. I really think he could use more interaction than a few play groups can provide, and I could use some adult friends to spend my days with.

Also, I'm not going to lie to you, I am so over being poor. So over it. I am so over living across the hall from the Trashertons: A woman, her ex husband, her current boyfriend, and their assortment of children. You can just imagine the drama that emanates from that apartment. I don't want to deal with it, and I don't want my son to have to deal with it as he gets more aware. I am over this neighbourhood. I'm over the gang signs everywhere, being afraid when The Hubbs has a late class, the fact that none of the schools around here have playgrounds and there are signs on power poles advertising support groups for prostitutes. Over it. So over it. If we end up living here when Baboo starts school, I don't know what I will do. We need to get out of this school district and away from these people.

I want to move. We can't afford that unless I get a job. I don't need a big house, expensive cars, a designer wardrobe, or any of that. But I would like a house. Any house. Preferably in a neighbourhood that gangs haven't claimed and where I can walk down the street with my camera around my neck without fear of getting mugged. I'd like to live in a neighbourhood where I can take my son to a school playground that is more than just a plot of grass and a slab of pavement littered with broken glass.

I want my family to be safe, happy, and at peace. I'm aware that it might take a long time to find a job. Just the thought of how long some of my acquaintances have been looking for work almost makes me want to admit defeat before I even get started. It's funny how anxious just the act of sending out resumes and writing cover letters makes me. It's almost as if I've already forgotten that my goal is to have a job somewhere between now and a year from now, that it's not an absolute emergency. I just need to chill. Chill and have faith. It will all work out.

It always does.

This too Shall Pass

2010-06-28T10:54:00.000-07:00

My baby has stopped taking the bottle. He'll take a couple sips of water or milk from his cup, but then he refuses that too. It has been really frustrating. He has been taking a bottle since he was 3 weeks old, now all of a sudden, its boob or nothing. I've been thinking of ways to force him. Just refusing to nurse him outright. But then I think, "this too shall pass." And it will.

Today I was thinking about all of the ways that my son has progressed, without me doing much of anything at all. A mere two months ago, the boy couldn't sleep without me right there with him. I would nurse him to sleep, then I'd have to stay in the room with him for the rest of the night. I would put in a DVD once he'd drifted off, or read by the light of a book lamp, but one thing I wouldn't do was leave the room. Because his eyes would pop open immediately. He only napped on my lap or in a baby wearing device, making it pretty darn tough to use his naptimes productively. Now, I'm proud to say, I can nurse him to sleep, put him down, and walk away. He will nap for up to two hours without me during the day. He will sleep in bed alone for several hours at night. I did nothing to force it. He's just ready.

For his whole life, really, Our Sweet Baboo wouldn't stay in his stroller for more than ten minutes. He'd fuss and cry, and then we'd take him out and baby wear. People told us we'd ruin him, that we'd be baby-wearing until he was a toddler and end up breaking our backs, that we should just leave him in there and let him cry until he got used to it. Within the past two weeks, he has been LOVING his stroller. We put him in, and he either sits quietly or babbles happily to himself. The other day he actually fell asleep in it! Again, we did nothing to force it. If he started to cry, we'd take him out as we always have, but he just hasn't been crying. It's been great (and a wonderful relief for my poor, aching back.)

His separation anxiety was just brual. For months, we couldn't leave the room without him crying. No one except The Hubbs and I could hold him without him freaking out. So what did we do? We did what some people would consider coddling him. We wore him a lot. We took him with us from room to room so he wouldn't cry. We didn't leave him with anyone because he just wasn't comfortable. And one of us was always in his sight. And last weekend? We went to visit my mom. He let her hold him. He played with her with no regard for where The Hubbs and I were. We wanted to see what he'd do, so we got in the car. He waved bye bye to us, with a smile. We drove off. When we came back, he was playing with my mom on the porch. He didn't care that we were gone. He gave us big smiles when we got back. The separation anxiety is over. No more crying when we leave the room. No more insisting that we be the only ones to hold him.

I'm proud to say that he made these adjustments all on his own. So while he is refusing the bottle, slapping it away with a big smile, I just shake my head and remind myself "this too shall pass." And it will. Everything else has.

I'm a grad!

2010-06-25T12:23:00.000-07:00

I have definitely been a blogging slacker lately. My apologies (because I'm sure you were all on the ends of your seats, haha). Things have been a tad nuts, and on top of that I've been feeling kinda "blah", so that always leads to my ambition going swiftly down hill.

First bit of news--I FINALLY graduated! Yay! It was a challenge and I will definitely recommend that Sweet Baboo finish college before he gets married and has children, but it was all worth it, because I'm done. DONNNNNNNNE!

And lately I've been thinking about all sorts of other classes I could take. Like getting my fitness instructor certification, or my doula certification, or sign language classes at the local deaf community centre. I know. I'm nuts. It's like I'm not myself unless I'm studying something. It makes sense if you think about it. I have been a student for the past twenty years, after all. But now I'm no longer a student and stay at home mom--just a stay at home mom. For some reason that's unnerving. I feel like I'm no longer doing enough or something. I know that's ridiculous, since being a Mama is a full time job, but that's how I feel.
So I've decided that this summer I am going to really throw myself into parenting, full force. There's a free program for babies starting at the community centre in July, and I'll be taking our Sweet Baboo to that once a week. I've also hooked up with a local strollercize group and will be walking every Tuesday morning, pushing my jogging stroller and stopping along the way to do lunges and junk. And I have other plans. Now that I'm a graduate, I'm going to start volunteering. I'm not quite ready to go back to work yet, but the community centre has child care for volunteers, so once a week I am going to volunteer. It'll give Baboo a chance to get used to being away from me, it'll give me a chance to pad my resume a bit, and it will also give some much-needed restoration to my sanity. I can't wait.

In other news, remember how I wrote about not having a birthday party for my Sweet Baboo? Well, scratch that. Sort of. I'm not really having a party for him, but the idea of not having anyone else help us celebrate at all made me so sad that I decided we had to do something. On his actual birthday we are still going to take a trip to the zoo, just the three of us, and its going to be glorious and intimate. But on July 3rd, we are going to have a family barbecue. My aunt is hosting it, and we are going to have cake and ice cream and balloons and sing happy birthday to our little guy.

I know my family will be late.

I know it won't be anything this spectacular, by a long shot.

But I felt like the fact that my family is imperfect should not stop me from including them in a celebration of my little guy. They are imperfect, but they are my family and I love them. Not everyone will show up. The food will be cold by the time most people get there. And we will probably have to take Our Sweet Baboo home early because he will eventually get overwhelmed in the crowded house. But that's okay. This is his family too. He'd better get used to it.

Two weekends ago, I had a couple friends from high school come visit. It was really fun. They came on the day I finished classes, and we celebrated. We stayed up late drinking girly drinks, and the next day we did a photoshoot at the beach. In the rain. Because we're awesome like that.

Then, miraculously, I got to go see a movie. For the very first time since my son was born. I was sooo excited. Yeah, the movie didn't live up to my expectations, but it was still so nice to be out, in an air conditioned, dark theatre, with no one crawling all over me. Bliss. Too bad there wasn't nearly enough stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. WTH, Robin Hood. WTH. If I want to see a war epic, I'll rent Pearl Harbour.

After the movie, drinks and dessert. Banana splits, ice cream filled crepes, and something red, alcohol filled, and delicious. I love my besties. We have plans to go visit them in August, when The Hubbs has a couple weeks off school before the fall semester commences. He's such a smart little fast-tracker. I need to support his constant studying, because his brain keeps us in scholarships, which keeps me in the best job in the world for right now--stay at home mom.

Musings from the Mom of an Almost One-Year-Old (Part IV)

2010-06-19T16:28:00.000-07:00

A mini-series featuring my thoughts on going from the AP mom of a baby to the AP mom of a toddler.
Part I.
Part II.
Part III.

Here are just a few thoughts that don't have enough substance to deserve their own post, so I've combined them here.

Baby-wearing. We love it, he loves it. But our son is heavy, and I am petite, and I have back problems. Its getting really painful to have him in the baby-carrier for long periods of time, even though we've invested in a high quality, expensive Ergo. What's a mom to do?

We've been trying to get him used to his stroller. We have actually used his stroller since birth, but once he was two or three months old, he started to get frustrated because he was leaning back in the infant seat and couldn't see or look around.

We thought that problem would disappear once we transitioned him into the other part of the stroller. He does okay in it, but after awhile he starts to fuss and wants out. I think part of the reason may be that he can't see us. I really wish we'd invested in a stroller that with a handle that could swivel, so that the could be facing us while he push him, but we didn't have the money for that at the time and now it seems like a waste to have two strollers. Le sigh.

Mobility.

Our son is a speed crawler and LOVES to cruise along furniture as well. He has actually already started to fuss when we're out and about because he wants to be put down and allowed to explore. We clearly aren't going to let him crawl around on the floor at the mall or whatever, but it has made outings more of a challenge. He is a very active little guy and has been since the womb, and we know that he's eventually going to be running ALL over the place. I think we are going to end up being those parents who use the dreaded leash.

Honestly, I have never judged parents who do this. I really don't think anything of it unless the parent is physically YANKING their child around by it. I would always rather be safe than sorry, especially when it comes to my kid. Anything could happen in a public place. He could run into the road when we're out. He could get snatched by some crazy kid-napper. He could dart off in the split second that I turn around to get something out of the diaper bag and end up getting lost. I just don't think I'd be willing to take that risk.

So judge away, but I'm almost positive that unless my son undergoes a major personality change in the next couple months, when he starts to walk, he'll be wearing one of these when we're out in public.

And I'd rather look bad to other nosey passers-by than have something happen to my kid. So sue me.

Musings from the Mom of an Almost One-Year-Old (Part III)

2010-06-08T16:47:00.000-07:00

This is my mini-series on thoughts about going from being the AP mama of a baby to the AP mama of a toddler.
Part I is here.
Part II is here.

Part III: Baby-sitters

I have never left my baby with anyone except my mom. And even she hasn't watched him in several months, due to some health problems that make it too hard for her to care for him. So since January, he has never been away from either his father or I. And it shows. He's very attached to us. He doesn't like to be held by strangers and it takes him a good while to warm up to people.

I never meant for it to be like this. Honestly. It's just that we have no one that we can trust to leave him with.

My sister gets all bent out of shape if he slobbers on her clothes or messes up her hair. She's clearly out as a baby-sitter. She holds him like he has cooties.

I would die before I'd ever leave him alone with my father. Ever. It is just never going to happen. Even in our will and guardianship papers, we are leaving strict instructions that they are not to be alone together until Baboo is a teenager.

I have a couple of cousins with children who I would love to organize a baby-sitting swap with, but they all live at least 45 minutes to an hour away. Not convenient.

We don't really have any friends that would want to watch him.

The Hubbs family lives on the other side of the country.

Originally, I had hoped that once he reached the one month mark I'd be able to leave him at the church nursery during services and various young adult events. I'd hope that by doing that, he'd just be used to it (at one month he didn't care who was holding him, as long as someone was). It's just that he was born during the whole swine flu outbreak, and I've worked in that nursery. I KNOW some of the teachers ignore the rules about washing their hands and using sanitizer. I KNOW that they let the babies slobber all over the toys, and that they are not sanitized on a regular basis. I just wasn't going to leave my baby there when he could get really sick.

Once the outbreak was finally over, he was over 7 months old, and firmly entrenched in his desire to never be away from my husband or I. And now I don't know what to do.

The swine flu is no longer much of a concern, so do I try the church nursery? Do I just drop him off and let him cry? Because I need my marriage back. I need my son to be able to stay with a sitter so that The Hubbs and I can have some alone time together. It doesn't have to be long. It could be even just an hour for dinner or two hours for a movie. It could be 45 minutes for coffee. Just SOME semblance of normalcy. Some small indication that we are still a couple, and not just two friends who happen to be parenting a child. I wouldn't leave him in the nursery to scream for an hour and a half. I'm thinking I'd drop him off for 10 minutes the first time, then go get him if he didn't calm down. Then 20 minutes the second time. Then half an hour the third time, and so on.

I don't know. I'm really just making it up. I just want him to be able to know that when Mommy and Daddy leave, we come back. I want him to know that other people can meet his needs, and that he's okay and can have a good time without us. When is a good age to start teaching him that, now that I've clearly missed the newborn window where they really don't care WHO they're left with? Should I try now? When he turns one? Should I wait until he's closer to one and a half, two years old, and I can actually explain to him that I'm going and that I'll be back? Of course I expect that he'll still cry, but at least he'll be able to understand that we aren't just abandoning him.

Once he got used to the nursery, we'd be able to find a baby-sitter. We plan on putting ads up for Early Childhood Education students at the community college. I'm sure there's someone there who'd like to make a few extra bucks. And then my husband and I could have weekly or bi-weekly dates. I could have the baby-sitter come over a few times and pay them to just hang out with us as a family so our Sweet Baboo could get to know them. Then the first time we could go out for just half an hour, just as a trial. I just feel like our whole first year of parenthood, we've been totally immersed in our son and we need to come back up for air.

I love him more than anything, and I know my husband feels the same, but if our marriage suffers then we all suffer. And I really don't think it can be good for him to NEVER know what its like to be away from us. I don't know. What do you think?

My Sweet Baboo,

2010-06-05T09:58:00.000-07:00

My Sweet Baboo,
You are growing up soooo fast. It is crazy to me how much you're learning. You are 10 and a half months old, and you've been saying Dada for about two weeks, and Mama for about a week now. It's very exciting that your first words were your parents names. You've been doing the sign for "Milk" since about April, and you've started waving, too. When Daddy leaves the house, you pout and wave bye-bye. It's the saddest, most adorable thing ever. You're so sad to see him go. You cheer up if I take you out onto the balcony and we can watch him go and wave to him. You get really excited and you like watching the car pull away.

We think you will start walking pretty soon. You can stand for a decent amount of time, and you can take a few steps when we hold your hands. Sometimes it looks like you're thinking about walking, but then you decide against it and go to the ground and crawl.

We finally took you to your 9 month well-baby appointment last week (I know, we are slackers). You weigh 22 pounds and I think you're 72 cm tall, which puts you in both the 75th percentile for weight and height. I love it, because when you were born they were worried that you weren't growing fast enough. You sure showed them!

So, you're almost a year old now, and mommy and daddy would love it if you would start sleeping through the night. For serious. Or, if you could at least limit your night-wakings to once a night, that would be amazing. And this whole waking up at 5:30 a.m. thing should probably stop, ASAP. Rested mommy = happy baby, don't you agree? No? Well, that's because you've never actually HAD a rested mommy. Seriously. Give it a shot, you'll see what a difference it makes.

When you start sleeping through the night, you can sleep in your train bed! You love to play on it, so wouldn't it be great if you could sleep on it, allll night long? Help a mother out.

Other things you're doing: You sing along to music. It's so cute. Of course you're not singing in any particular tune, but I still think you sound great. You also sing along to The Muppets Bohemian Rhapsody. When the part comes on where Monster sings "Mama", you say it as well! I love it! You clap your hands when you're happy or when music is on, and you also dance by waving your arms around. Its great.

You are climbing all over EVERYTHING. It gives mommy and daddy gray hairs because we're afraid that you're going to fall and hurt yourself. You've learned to climb up on both couches, and you climb up there with your back facing into the room so that if you tipped back just a little you'd fall backwards. Whenever Mommy or Daddy goes into the bathroom, you immediately drop what you're doing and start speed-crawling down the hall. When you get to the closed bathroom door, you stand there and bang on the door until we come out. If we take too long, you cry.

You flat out refuse to wear your hat. You throw it on the ground immediately after its placed on your head, and it doesn't matter how many times we put it back on, it ends up on the ground again. You have also been refusing to hold your bottle for the past couple of months. You can feed yourself, you've been doing it for ages, but you just refuse to do so. You shove your bottle at mommy or daddy when you want a drink, and then sit there while we hold it. If we take our hands off, you fuss and give it to us again. It's amusing and annoying.

So you are definitely a little handful, but sooo much fun. You love playing with us, and you are full of smiles and giggles. Your separation anxiety is a little out of control, but we'll work on that as soon as we find you a trustworthy baby-sitter. We are so happy and lucky to have you in our lives. Being your mom is my favourite.

Put a Quarter in the Jar

2010-06-02T05:26:00.000-07:00

I try my best to maintain a sense of decorum. I try to be together and in control. But sometimes it doesn't work out. And I blame my husband for that. Yes, I know, you can't blame other people for your problems, blah blah blah.

Hear me out.

Dude does NOT understand when I tell him that the conversation is over. I can tell him ten times that I cannot have this conversation anymore, that I am about to lose it, that everything he is saying is just making me angrier and angrier and he needs to back off before I become physically violent.

But he does not listen. He keeps talking. He will not stop. He won't stop making excuses, trying to dig himself out of a hole, or alternately, attempting to explain to me why this fight is really all my fault.

If I leave the room, he follows me. If I say I am too tired to do this anymore and that I need to go to bed, he follows me. If I exercise my right to remain silent, he pushes and pushes and pushes me until I say, in as controlled of a voice possible--

"FUCK OFF."

Should I swear at the father of my son? Probably not. But I kind of feel like he asked for it, and received fair warning. I still feel bad, because my kid was in the next room and probably heard me. And soon he'll be able to understand words and their meanings, and then he'll turn into a parrot repeating everything we say. I don't want him to be that kid--the one that no one lets their kids play with because they don't want their kid developing a potty mouth. So I need to learn to control myself better.

Even if it is really all my husband's fault for not taking me seriously when I tell him that I cannot. have this conversation. anymore.

Do you fight in front of your kid? Do you swear in front of your kid, and will they be allowed to swear? Is it acceptable to tell your husband to Eff Off? No? Even if he's been warned? What do you think?

Momversation Monday: Nature versus Nurture

2010-05-31T08:39:00.000-07:00

You can find the momversation here.

Nature versus nuture is a topic I'm VERY interested in. Of course, being a psychology student (hence the blog title) has something to do with my interest in personality development. But ever since becoming a mom, the stakes are higher. It's not just a theory, it's a real dilemma.

"Do I have the power to make or break my kid?"

That's a scary question. Part of me wants to believe that no, I don't. That's the part of me that's afraid that everything I do has the ability to change the course of his entire life, for better or worse. That part of me would much rather believe that he is who he is, and he's going to be who he's going to be, come hell, high water or crappy, inept parenting.

Then there's the part of me that wants to believe that I'm doing everything I'm doing for a reason. That he isn't just a naturally happy-go-lucky kid, but that my parenting has something to do with that. That part of me wants to believe that whatever struggles he may have can be softened by good parenting, acceptance and love. But if I accept that, then I'm also accepting responsibility for his extremely clingy behaviour. His refusal to be put down for more than half an hour. His constant need to breastfeed, despite me offering him a bottle first. His inability to be away from us, ever.

Is that bad? Will he outgrow it? Is it my fault? My mom and I were talking about his clingyness the other day, and she said, "I bet you'll do things differently with the next one." She clearly thinks that by holding him all the time as a newborn, not letting him cry in his crib, baby wearing back when he was light enough that I could do so for hours at a time without it hurting my back, that I broke my baby. She clearly thinks I made him ultra-dependent on me. We tried putting him in his stroller whenever we went out. I wasn't going to let him cry just to teach him that babies belong in strollers. Or should I have? I question myself daily.

Sometimes I play the "What-if" game with The Hubbs.
I ask him, "What if Baboo gets picked on?"
"What if he is popular, and gets involved with the bad crowd and drinks and does drugs?"
"What if he wants to marry someone horrible, and if we tell him, we risk losing him?"

My wonderful, logical husband thinks that anything that can go wrong can be solved with love and respect. He doesn't believe we can control, shape or mould much of who Baboo is, but he does believe that we are in control of the kind of relationship that we have with him. And that having two parents who love and respect you, and with whom you have a close and loving relationship is enough to see you through any trials that life may throw your way. And enough to help you make wise choices. God, I hope he's right.

Honestly, when people say that the baby stage is the hardest, I don't believe them. Yes, the breastfeeding and having to carry him and having our lives revolve around his schedule is exhausting and daunting. But we have a beautiful little person who loves and adores us. We are his whole world, and that is an amazing thing. His love is unconditional and perfect, and he has a crazy confidence that we will help him when he is hurting, and that all can be right in the world if he can just be with us.

It won't be like this forever. Someday he will like his friends or his girlfriend more than he likes us. Someday he may utter the words "I hate you." Someday we will ache for the times when he speed-crawled behind us wherever we went, because it will feel like we haven't spent any time with him in weeks. Someday his love won't be so unconditional. We will embarass him with how uncool we are. We will enrage him with our rules and exasperate him with our desire to have him do the right thing.

Nature or nurture? Can we soften the blow of him becoming his own person? Can we teach him to come to us now, so that when he is a teen and thinking about drugs or shop lifting or sex, he feels he can tell us? Can we give him enough love to carry him through life, so that if he flunks out of college, has a terrible break-up or loses his job, he knows he can come home and we will be just as proud of him as we always have been? Can we do that for him? With simple love, warmth and respect?

God, I hope so.

Musings from a Mom of an Almost One-Year-Old (Part II)

2010-05-25T04:33:00.000-07:00

This is part II of a mini-series I'm writing, on the subject going from being the Attachment Parenting mother of a baby to the Attachment Parenting mother of a toddler.

You can find Part I here.

Part II: Co-Sleeping

When my Sweet Baboo was first born, we said we'd never bedshare. We planned on keeping him in our room in a separate bed until he was sleeping through the night or waking only once, then moving him to his own room. Well, he's almost a year old and he's still waking several times a night to nurse, so we are having to re-evaluate that plan.

At first things were fine. He went to sleep in his bassinet beside our bed, I brought him into bed with me for feedings, and then back to his bassinet when the feedings were over. Eventually, though, he outgrew his bassinet. We didn't think switching him to his pack n play would be an issue, but we were wrong. That thing is uncomfortable, and he didn't want to sleep there. We couldn't blame him. He just couldn't get comfortable. So he started sleeping in bed with us. That was fine when he was younger and would sleep swaddled. But as he got older and bigger, he started rolling around a lot and needing a lot more space. It got pretty crowded fast, and my husband wound up moving to the futon in the living room half the time. Now its to the point where he doesn't even bother coming to bed with us and just starts the night out in the living room. He's lonely out there by himself, and I didn't think that was fair. But then, I also thought, if my husband who is an adult is lonely by himself all night, then how can I require my baby to spend the night by himself?

So we bought a crib that you could take one side off, and pushed it up against our bed. The plan was that Baboo would sleep in his crib, and we'd have our bed back, but we'd still all be together.

That worked for awhile. Until Baboo decided the crib wasn't big enough for him. Sometimes in the middle of the night we'd hear him rolling around, tossing and turning because he couldn't get comfortable. He'd then inevitably roll into bed with us. Sometimes we could put him back into his crib and he'd sleep, but sometimes he'd keep scootching back towards me for a cuddle.

And The Hubbs would end up back in the living room. Did I mention that our futon is NOT comfortable? We have had it for less than a year, and its already broken.

We don't know what to do about this situation. We feel stuck between a rock and a hard place. Baboo can sleep all by himself in the bed, but he rolls around a lot and won't stay contained to our homemade co-sleeper. My husband and I want to be in the same bed again--being separate is not good. Not to mention the fact that sleeping on a very uncomfortable futon isn't fair to him.

Options we've thought of:
1-Buying a King sized bed for us to all sleep together. It would be pricey, and it would mean me forgoing the new photography equipment I've had my eye on, but I guess family comes before my hobby. The Hubbs thinks that this would just prolong us all sleeping together, though, and he really would like to have Baboo sleeping independently by the age of two. At that point, we'd be fine with him coming into our bed in the middle of the night if he felt like it, but we'd like him to at least start off in his own room.
2-Transitioning Baboo to his own room. We'd start slowly with the crib mattress on the floor beside our bed. Once he was used to that, we'd eventually move it across the room, then into his room where we'd fall asleep beside him, and then eventually he'd get used to sleeping in his room alone. His room is very cluttered right now and we'd have to really babyproof it for that to work. Eventually we'd like him to have a Montessori room, complete with floor bed, like this one.
3-We replace the futon with a proper sofa (again, expensive, again, no photography equipment for me until next year) and the Hubbs and I sleep in the living room. We give Baboo our bed in our room, and that way he has all the room he needs (we picture him rolling off the crib mattress if we did the floor bed, though we'd put blankets down so he wouldn't hurt himself). It has the added bonus of us being able to move all of his toys and crap into his bedroom, which we'd then use as a playroom. I could lay with him while he falls asleep, then go out to the living room with the Hubbs for the rest of the night.

What do you think? All of these options require a pretty big investment of either time or money, and any or all of them might fail. This AP thing is hard. Sometimes I wish we'd just made him sleep alone from the get-go so we wouldn't have this problem.

Any advice, thoughts, questions or comments would be appreciated.

Part III of Musings from a Mom of an Almost One-Year-Old coming soon. . .

Baby-Led Weaning

2010-05-21T04:55:00.000-07:00

When we introduced solid foods to our Sweet Baboo, we decided to use a method called Baby Led Weaning. This shouldn't be confused with child-led weaning, which is letting the child decide when to stop breastfeeding. Baby Led Weaning means feeding finger foods that they baby can feed themselves, right from the get-go. Essentially, you skip purees and go straight to table food.

There are a few reasons why we chose this method. Part of the reason was that buying jarred baby food didn't appeal to us. When I was still pregnant, I did a 600 hour work placement at the YMCA Early Years Centre as part of the requirements for my degree. One of the classes I helped out with was a Making Baby Food class, in which we learned the benefits of babies getting homemade food versus store-bought. Parents have control over the ingredients, and you can gradually change the texture from totally pureed to somewhat chunky to get your kids more used to "real" food texture before starting them on table foods.

So we knew we weren't going to buy our baby food, but honestly, you know me--Pureeing everything my husband and I were eating in order for Baboo to try it just wasn't my cup of tea. First, it was kind of a pain. It's hard enough to have time to cook dinner with such an active little guy, let alone having to puree a bunch of it afterwards. Then I thought I'd puree a bunch of foods for him ahead of time, freeze them, and then just thaw before we ate. But that was also not ideal. For instance, it was kind of a waste if we did that to a whole bag of carrots and then found out he didn't like carrots, you know what I mean? I also wasn't crazy about feeding him food that I had frozen and then thawed. I tend to think that fresher is better. On top of that, we all like to eat dinner together. It was kind of hard to juggle being able to eat MY dinner along with having to spoon feed Baboo his dinner. And then he also just wasn't a huge fan of having someone else stick a spoon in his mouth. He would always try to grab it, and then end up with food all over his hands. It was just no good.

So we decided to switch to the BLW approach. Basically, you cut up bite sized pieces of whatever it is that the grown-ups are having for dinner, put them on your kid's high chair tray, and go. Other BLWers don't cut up bite-sized pieces but rather leave the food in big enough portions that they kid can just hold the whole thing in their hands and bite it off (ie, a banana or a chicken leg), but we were a little too paranoid about choking to go that route. BLW has really worked out great for us. Baboo LOVES the fact that he's eating what we're eating (when we were doing purees, he'd sometimes push them away and reach for our plates!), and it's less waste and let's face it--less work! I'm all about parenting on the path of least resistence.

So what does he eat? Just about everything. Our Sweet Baboo has tried and loved:
-Pasta (either with butter and cheese or tomato sauce)
-Pitas with hummus
-Avocado (spread on a pita or cut into chunks)
-Strips of rotisserie chicken
-Dried apricots (cut into slivers to eliminate choking risk)
-Cheerios
-Cut up banana
-Homemade pizza
-Sliced apple
-Sliced pear
-Mandarin orange slices
-Mango chunks
-Blueberry muffin
-Hamburger
-Pickle
-Strips of toast and jam
-Perogies with sour cream
-Chunks of Mozzarella, Marble and/or Cheddar Cheese (and a grated version of those cheeses as well)
-Steamed carrot sticks
-Steamed broccoli

And the list goes on. We've also given him some more traditional foods that we had to feed him with a spoon, but those weren't purees. Those things include cottage cheese, mashed potatoes, oatmeal, butternut squash soup, sweet potato and yogurt. We just aren't ready for the disaster that would follow giving him a bowl of oatmeal to feed himself. I guarantee you the bowl would be on the floor within seconds.

Our kid LOVES table food and he loves BLW. It works great for our family, and if you have a kid whose getting to the age where they're going to start solids soon, I'd recommend giving it a try!

There's no Party and I'll Cry if I Want to

2010-05-18T06:11:00.000-07:00

So, as much as it pains me to say this, my Sweet Baboo will be a year old in just a couple of months. I can't really believe it. I don't know where this year has gone and I really, really wish it would slow down, but there it is. And I will admit, that part of the reason why I am dreading his first birthday stems from an inferiority complex that I have. I cannot throw my son the first birthday celebration that he deserves.

I have been thinking about this since he was about six months old, and you think that four months later I'd have come to terms with it, but I'm still just as sad.

We live in a tiny apartment with barely enough room for ourselves, let alone to entertain others. That in itself isn't a huge problem. There are other places to have a party. We originally thought we'd have it at my parents house. But as readers of this blog know, my parents are a big ball of issues. It is fairly impossible to involve them in any special occasion and have it still remain special. They are physically incapable of not starting huge arguments that ruin everything, adhering to a schedule of any kind, or generally participating in civilized society. I know that they would just ruin it, and all my hard work, and I would be livid and devastated. My extended family has similar issues. They are two hours late for EVERYTHING. If I were to hold the party at a picnic area in the park, for example, they would all roll in after our reservation had expired. I would plan the party to take place between Baboo's naps, and they would show up after he'd fallen asleep. And I am not exaggerating. They were two hours late to my baby shower. They were two hours late to Baboo's christening. And don't even get me STARTED on the fiasco that they turned my wedding day into.

The Hubbs family is across the country, so they're out. There's a chance that we'll be in their city this summer around Baboo's birthday, and we would LOVE to hold the party there and invite them as well as old friends (we used to live there as well), but here's the problem: The Hubbs parents are divorced and remarried, and they would never consent to being in the same room or park or general vicinity of one another. They each have had new children with their new spouses, but none of the children have ever met. The Hubbs is the only one of his siblings who has met his half siblings on the other side. I do not feel comfortable only inviting one side of the family to something like that.

So then I thought, we could just invite friends. We could freeze family out in its entirety, and just invite friends. Except we really don't have any. We moved to a different city right after Baboo was born, and we've both been so busy with school and taking care of him that we haven't met too many people. I joined a mom's group, but I only know the women on a surface level so far, and I'd feel weird inviting them to my son's party. It would feel gift grabby, and I'd be embarassed that a bunch of people I hardly know would be the only guests in attendance. The Hubbs has met a couple people at school with kids that we could invite, but we feel like it would be the same thing. Just weird, you know? We were hoping we'd know them better by July, but it's only two months away and it still doesn't feel right.

And then there's the issue of the preparation. If I was going to have a party for him, I'd have to start planning NOW because I'd want it to be GREAT. It needn't be over the top in any way, but I would at least want it to be put together. I'd want the colours to coordinate, I'd want the decorations to look like they didn't come out of the discount bin at the dollar store, I'd want the food to be delicious. I feel like its too late to put together anything good.

A couple of months ago The Hubbs and I talked about all of this and decided we'd just celebrate on our own, just the three of us. We'd have a cake and good food and decorations, but we wouldn't invite anyone else. Then we'd take Baboo someplace really special for the first time, like the zoo or Marine Land. We'd buy him a special birthday outfit to wear, maybe attach a helium ballon to his arm for the day so that everyone would know he's the birthday boy. We'd get him something REALLY special for his gift--something he would love. And I thought it could be really special and really great. I mean, he has no idea what a birthday is, how important could it be that he have a big party? So that was our plan, and we were set.

And then I saw this. And I wanted to cry. Partially because I could never do that. Never in a million years. I could start planning now for Baboo's 16th birthday, and it would fall short of that. But another reason I wanted to cry is because I don't have family and friends that would make all of that effort worthwhile. I don't have a big group of people willing to come together, on time, to celebrate my son. Kelle Hampton says that celebrating a birthday is celebrating life. That's why she goes all out.

Does the fact that I am not "going all out" mean that I am not celebrating my son's life? Does his life mean less to me than her kids' lives mean to her because I am not throwing annual birthday bashes that put my wedding to shame? Doubtful, yes. But still. It makes me really sad that my son will never have a celebration like that because I don't have the means, the talent, but most importantly the support and love of others to make it happen. Even if I could sew costumes for all my guests and hand engrave their names on a million luxury party favours, I would be doing it for people that I am not close to. I would be doing it for people that I cannot trust to understand how important this day is to me, and to respect it. When you celebrate something really important and meaningful, you want those closest to you there. My son's life and birth mean everything to me--and the people closest to me are him and my husband. So maybe its unfair that he won't get a big, elaborate first birthday. But I hope he won't feel any less loved.

Musings from the Mom of an Almost One-Year-Old (Part I)

2010-05-16T05:40:00.000-07:00

I am feeling really weird, ladies. My little guy is almost one--I can barely believe it :( Along with this huge milestone comes a lot of stress and anxiety and re-evaluating our parenting practices because soon we are going to have a toddler, rather than a baby. Attachment Parenting can be draining, and a lot of the things we've been doing we've said we'd be done with when he was a year old, and then things could get (kind of) back to normal. I'm going to do a little mini-series on my thoughts of moving from the AP mama of a baby to the AP mama of a one year old.

Part I: Weaning

Lately I've been feeling a lot of pressure and stress. For one, we always said we'd start weaning him at around a year. Just thinking about it is enough to make me have a mild panic attack. I don't particularly WANT to wean him, but I also don't want to continue until he's two, and I feel like the longer we wait, the harder its going to be on him.

I am fine with continuing to breastfeed him at bedtime for longer, but I think at the one year mark I'd like to try cutting out daytime sessions. I just have no idea how to go about it. Originally we were going to cut out one feeding a week for eight weeks until we were done, which seemed like it would be a gentle method. However, the idea of him being upset that he can't breastfeed at certain times during the day bothers me. He takes bottles regularly, but I don't like the idea of him wanting to nurse and me telling him no in the morning, but then letting him do it in the afternoon. It seems like it would just confuse him and be stressful for everyone to try to hold him off until the next feeding.

So then I thought, maybe I could just take something to dry up my milk supply. Then I could let him comfort nurse all he wants, but if he actually wants to drink, he'd have to take a bottle. I think this could either work really well, or be really bad.

Then I thought, I could always put vinegar or something on my nipples during the day so that they taste bad, and then it would be his CHOICE to take a bottle. Then at night I'd wash it off so that they wouldn't taste bad, and he'd still be able to night nurse for as long as he needs to. But that seems like a kind of sad way to end something so special.

I am really having a hard time with this. One of the main reasons I want to wean him soon is that it is getting really difficult to nurse in public. He is distractable and wiggly and he pops off a million times. That's fine at home, but out and about I am not comfortable with being totally exposed like that. I'm also not really fine with him just randomly pulling up my shirt to get milk, and I'd prefer that he not. Is there a way I could teach him that we can nurse at home, but not in public?

I need advice. I'm stressing.

More Musings from the Mom of an Almost One Year Old to come. . .

Happy Mothers Day, Mamas!

2010-05-09T05:18:00.000-07:00

Celebrate being the most important woman in the world to someone.
Celebrate doing the most difficult but most rewarding job there is.
Celebrate being an every day hero.

Happy Mothers Day :)

Mothers Day Musings + Gift-Buying Guide

2010-04-25T13:00:00.000-07:00

Mothers Day is exactly two weeks away. This is my first Mothers Day. My FIRST Mothers Day. My son is too young to know what this day means to me, but that doesn't mean that it will not be one of the most special occasions since he has been born. I so look forward to Mothers Days of the future--to getting scribbled portraits that are supposed to be me and my Sweet Baboo, and dandelions clumbsily picked from the backyard and put into a mug to keep fresh, and breakfast in bed that consists of cheerios on a milk spattered tray because he's too young to use the stove. I can't wait until he is old enough to put his sticky arms around my neck and tell me he loves me, that I am the best mom in the world. I have no illusions of grandeur. I am not the best mom in the world, not by a long shot, but miraculously every child under the age of five thinks their mother is the best and mine will hopefully be no exception.

But this year my son will not yet be a year old on Mothers Day, and so this one won't be about me feeling loved, but about me feeling how much I love him.I am nuts about that child. Just nuts. And I am so excited to have a day that is all about the wonder of me being his mama. Sometimes I honestly still can't even believe where I am in my life. It's like I just woke up one day, and I was married with a kid. A real grown-up. I don't remember all this time passing, I don't remember going from 19 years old to almost-25, but here I am. I somehow managed to house life inside of me and here is the proof. This Mothers Day, I will not only be celebrating my own mother, thinking of what to get her and how to make her feel appreciated. This year, I will be celebrating the fact that I am a mother. I can't wait.

There has been lots of talk amongst my first-time mommy friends about what they want to mark this momentous date. It's not just another Hallmark holiday, people. It's a day where we can think about how much we love our little guys and gals, a day that we can celebrate the fact that yes, we have made it. Yes, we are mothers.

I am a very sentimental person, and I like to have trinkets and physical reminders of important events in my life. My first mothers day certainly qualifies. So I am putting together a list of great Mothers Day finds for you to pass on to your husbands and/or children. For us first time Mamas, this will make the first day celebrating the fact that we're moms. For you more seasoned Moms, you have made it through another year with your little rugrats and lived to tell about it. Treat yourself--or have someone else treat you.
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Gift-Buying Guide

For the Jewelry Loving Mom:

Mothers Day Necklace from etsy.

I love this. It's gorgeous, simple, and it conveys the truth. The word love and the word mom just go together.

I love this necklace. Inspired by my favourite poem by ee cummings (we actually had this read at our wedding!). Sweetly personalized with your little one's name and the magical date they were born.

Not your traditional, cheesy locket. Name, birth stats, and a photo of your little guy or gal. LOVE.

For the Shutterhappy Mom:

Ladies, my life was far more frustrating than it needed to be before I entered the world of DSLR. You don't need to be a photographer or have professional aspirations to invest in one of these babies. You just need to be sick of missing all those split-seconds of candid adorableness because of regular point and shoot shutter lag. There is nothing like a DSLR for capturing every precious look, smile and expression. Get your hands on a Canon Rebel. You can thank me later.

If you're a beginner, this book has great tips and tricks for capturing those moments.

For the art-loving mom:

Turn your kiddo's sweet profile into art.

Think your kid is a budding picasso? Clean out that drawer you have stuffed full of every drawing your kid has ever made and put that stuff proudly on display with http://www.mykidsartoncanvas.com/.

Mommy/Baby Pop-Art. I definitely have this one on my wishlist. I love that we live in an era where we can get a canvas of us with our kids without having to sit for oil paintings.

For the Stressed Mom (Oh, wait, that's all of us.. .):

Give the gift of relaxation, with a spa finder gift card.

For the mom who only shops for the kids:

OiOi - Hobo - Diaper Bag

Because that tattered canvas bag you've been lugging around town isn't going to hold up for much longer.

For the breastfeeding mom:

We've all seen those nursing necklaces. You know the ones I'm talking about--the ones that look like toys. We're willing to do a lot for our kids, but not all of us feel like sacrificing our sense of personal style to wear a giant string of brightly-coloured plastic baubles just so our kid has something to play with while we feed them. Enter: Julian & Co. Eat your heart out, fashionable nursing mamas.

Baby Bond nursing cover. Love. Looks just like a sassy blouse. No more hiding under a tarp for you! Or, if you're like me, trying to breastfeed with the baby in a sling, thinking that's discreet enough, and having a total stranger behind the counter at Burger King go to extreme lengths to see INSIDE THE SLING, despite you repeatedly shifting away, until she realizes OH! Her boob is exposed--and apologizes sheepishly while you bite your tongue to keep from snapping at her to just get your damn fries and stop harassing strangers. True story.

For the Lit-Loving Mom:

Baby-Proofing Your Marriage. Because the rug-rat is already here, but that doesn't mean its too late!

Little Earthquakes by Jennifer Weiner.

A yummy piece of fiction about the ups and downs of mommyhood.

Hope you got some fabulous ideas, ladies. Direct your husbands to this post and I'll take care of the rest.

EDIT: It has come to my attention that there has been a gross oversight. Single Mamas, by all means, skip the middle man and treat yourself! It's actually better that way since you don't have to hope for someone to magically pick the right thing, or grasp any of your not-so-subtle hints.

101 Things in 1001 Days--April Check-in

2010-04-24T15:41:00.000-07:00

Goal # 22--Breastfeed Until End of Flu Season 2010

With one week left in April, I think it's safe to say that I've met by goal of breastfeeding through flu season 2010. Go me! Thinking about weaning causes me serious anxiety. My son will take a bottle, but if he wants mommy milk, he WANTS mommy milk and nothing will convince him to take formula. It would be one thing if I was planning on weaning cold turkey--I could just make my supply dry up and then milk just wouldn't be available, so when he wanted to nurse nothingwould come out and then he'd HAVE to take a bottle. But I want to go with a gentler approach--I think. And I admit, it's only partially for him--it's for me, too. I'm not planning on weaning until we hit the year mark, but I still can't imagine being done with breastfeeding in less than three months time. It seems way too soon. Our Sweet Baboo breastfeeds about 8 times a day, so our plan is to drop one nursing session a week until we're done. I have a feeling it sounds simpler than it's actually going to be. We'll see.

Goal # 7--Take a family vacation

We are planning a vacation this summer out west, where the Hubbs is from. His parents want to use their airmiles to fly us out so Baboo can finally meet his aunts and uncles, so I guess we're going if everything works out, schedule-wise. Do I not seem enthused? lol. I just think its going to be really awkward--when we moved away we definitely weren't on good terms with any of them. On the plus side, we'll also get to see The Hubbs' dad and stepmom and their three precious children, and I'm really excited about that. PLUS, we are hoping we'll get to go during the time when one of our friends is getting married. I would just love to, and we'd leave Baboo with his grandparents while The Hubbs and I have a real, grown-up day and night out. That part of it sounds wonderful. We really need some time to ourselves, as evidenced by the fact that I am now reading Baby Proofing Your Marriage--which incidentally adds a book to

Goal #19---Read Ten Books

Secret Goal # 31--can't reveal yet or will die of embarassment--but talks are in the works. That's all you need to know.

Goal # 33--Refinish a Piece of Furniture

I planned on doing that this weekend, but it's supposed to rain and I need to leave the dresser on the balcony to dry, so I guess I'll have to wait. Supposed to have sunny skies next week, though, so hopefully I get a chance then. I'll post a picture when I'm done. Very excited.

Goal # 46--Make friends with another couple with kids

Done and done! We have got together a handful of times with a friend of The Hubbs from school (and his wife and son), and we are going to church with them tomorrow, which ties in with

Goal # 78--Attend Church More

That's all for now, folks! I've also re-evaluated and either changed or adapted a couple of the goals on this list, but I'll save that for another post. Ta ta!

Sex ed for Six Year Olds

2010-04-22T07:16:00.000-07:00

That's right, folks. Where I live, come September, there will be sex-education classes for children in grade one. What do I think about it? Well, I'll tell you, of course.

This Monday I went to a Moms group at my church. We have children of all different ages, so while some of the subject matter didn't pertain to
my son, it was still helpful to hear what parents of older children are experiencing. The facilitator told us how important it is to talk to our children about sexuality, etc, because she was experimenting with boys by the age of SEVEN and lost her virginity at the age of fourteen.

So do I think that age 6 is too early? Not really. Sex-ed is not a how-to manual. Even when I was in high school it wasn't a how-to manual. Sex-ed in the first grade would consist of teaching children the proper names for body parts. Some people think that this is highly inappropriate, but I don't.

There is nothing sexy about the word "penis" or "vagina." And those parts are really nothing to be ashamed of. I honestly think that having this in school might take some of the mystique out of the form of the opposite sex, so kids no longer feel the need to play "Doctor" or "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Works for me.

People who are against this are saying that parents should be the ones to teach their kids these things. But do they? Or are they so uncomfortable that they are dropping the ball? I know I wasn't taught jack. My sex-ed talk came in the form of being spanked at age 12 and called a whore for sneaking out to see my much older boyfriend. Perhaps if my parents had had that talk with me, that wouldn't have happened. Perhaps if I knew that raging hormones were normal but that they did NOT necessarily have to be obeyed and that I would NOT go insane from ignoring them, that whole scenario could have been avoided.

And having sex-ed in schools does not mean, in any way, that parents aren't able to instill in their own children values and beliefs about sex. In fact, I think having it in schools paves the way for open communication. Parents can look at the curriculum, ask if their kids have any questions about what they learned in school today, and voila--instant "the talk."

Expecting schools to wait until kids are already teenagers for sex-education just doesn't make sense anymore. Kids are getting involved with sex much earlier than high school these days, and I think its important to address that and not live with our heads in the sand.

Its also helpful to talk to kids about sex BEFORE their hormones start raging, so that the common sense we're trying to impart, the telling them to wait, and explaining the emotional and physical consequences of having sex before they should has a chance to seep in before their libidos get kick-started.

And no, I am not comfortable thinking about my precious 9 month old with any sort of libido. But you know what? I need to get comfortable. This is the world we live in, and hiding from it isn't going to do him any favours. Parents need to address these concerns head-on.

More information:
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/politics/muslims-christians-challenge-ontarios-more-explicit-sex-ed/article1542657/

Blog Awards

2010-04-18T07:58:00.000-07:00

I got my first blog award! Yay!

I got it from a lovely lady over at http://givingherallshesgot.wordpress.com/
She is nuts over comments, so go over and say hi!

The rules of this award are that you tell ten things about yourself, and then pass the award on to some other bloggers I love.
I LOVE to talk about myself (Really? A blogger who loves to talk about herself!? Get out!), so this shouldn't be too hard:

1) I love jewelry but I only wear my wedding ring now. My Sweet Baboo has managed to both rip one of my necklaces right off my neck, and pull one of my earrings right out of my ear. Ouch.

2) My favourite ice cream is moose tracks. It is delicious. Peanut butter cups, chocolate ripples, what more could you want?
3) I just got my first pair of glasses. I need them for reading. Apparently spending so much time in front of the computer has compromised my eyesight.

4) One thing I would LOVE to do would be to stay in a really fancy hotel for a night. I have never stayed in a really, really nice hotel before.

5) On special occasions, I buy champange or wine. And then I drink it. And then I wonder why I bought it. I still have teenager tastes when it comes to alcohol, apparently, because I would honestly rather drink a $6 bottle of Arbor Mist. It makes both my mouth AND my wallet happy.

6) As a spin-off to number five, I sometimes forget how old I am. Like, the other day I was filling out a survey, and I wrote that I was 22. Um, I am not. I'm totally turning 25 this summer. Yet I am still 19 on the inside.
7) I miss writing songs, and one of my projects for this summer is to sit down with my guitar and write a song for my kiddo. All that love has gotta be good for at least one decent piece of music, right?

8) I am slightly worried that the world is going to end in 2012. I can't help it. I would really like to get out of this crappy apartment and travel the world and become successful and watch my child grow up and have kids and grand kids and junk. Please don't end, world.

9) I like pina coladas. And getting caught in the rain. Actually, no. I dislike pina coladas. And whilst getting caught in the rain sounds nice in theory, I actually really hate the feeling of wet clothes on my body. So sue me. I do, however, love the smell of the rain.

10) I have an 8:30 bedtime. I am exhausted by that time every night. Sweet Baboo goes to bed at 8:30 and I go with him. It's sad, really.

Now for ten bloggers I enjoy:

1) Brooke at http://www.threecheersforbabies.blogspot.com/. I have been following the lives of Charlie and Lily since they were in the NICU, and I absolutely love this blog. Brooke and her husband are so upbeat and strong, even in the face of extreme adversity.

2) Busted at Bustedbabymaker.blogspot.com. Head over there to hear honest writing about such heart-wrenching topics as infertility, losing a child, and parenting anxiety.

3) Kelle at http://www.kellehampton.com/. I have written about her on this blog before, but I just love her writing and photos.

4) Laura at Embracing Elijah is a strong and inspirational woman. Her not-yet-born baby has been diagnosed with Trisonomy 13, and she is giving him all the love she possibly can while he's still with her.

5) Family Synthesis is an intro into the world of Fostering to Adopt. I love reading about the latest challenges and joys that come with building a family this way.

6) Mama Quiere Beso is a dedicated Mama who still manages to remind us to look for balance.

Check them out!

I've become one of THOSE parents

2010-04-14T06:48:00.000-07:00

. . .One of those mothers who will advise their child to "Do as I say, not as I do." It's unfortunate. And I feel bad about it. But if my Sweet Baboo decides that he wants to get married and have children before he's done college, I don't know that I'm going to be able to hold my tongue.

Of course I will support him. Of course I will allow him to make his own choices. But I will definitely, definitely tell him how hard it is. I will tell him how his own mother took SEVEN YEARS to get a Bachelors degree because she got married and had responsibilities and could only take a couple of classes a year instead of a full course load.

I will tell him about how his parents hadn't planned on having a child before they were done school, but that these things happen, and how difficult it was to try to write a paper with a baby clinging to my leg and fussing to be picked up and relentlessly reaching for the keyboard and mouse until the entire 6th paragraph of my paper looked like this:

ASNILASHIOLSAHIOASBjkbjkadflanhhhhhhhhhhhhh ;////////////////////sdfgfgfgfgfgfgfgkjdarhflikhasldjkhaldfhakldfhdlafhkbh
asdfhjidfhjasidlhadfuklkaudhfasffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,olllllllllllllllllllllllllll888888888888888888888888888888888
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

I will tell him that I didn't do as well as I could have and that my assignments didn't reflect my best work because I just wanted to get them out of the way so I could get back to the new most important thing in my life---him. That college, which should be a wonderful time of travel, experimentation, forging friendships and really challenging ones self, was put to the back burner. That Daddy couldn't go to bars with his friends after class and mommy couldn't even go to class and had to do the last half of her degree from her living room with a baby hanging off one boob and toys scattered everywhere. Not exactly the college experience we all hope for.

Of course I will tell him that I love him and that I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world. Of course I will tell him that he was the greatest surprise ever and that I wouldn't change a thing.

But I will tell him that life would have been easier, just easier, if I had finished school before he came along. I will advise him to really think about it, and let him know that once you have a kid, they're yours forever. You can potentially always become a parent, but you can never go back. You can potentially always become a spouse, but if you do it right, you won't un-become one.

Marriage is hard. I went from living in a house full of girls who came and went as we pleased and paid barely anything in rent because there were so many of us to renting a house with my husband and having to work a lot more to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. There just wasn't time for school, friends, extra-curricular activities. Even now, my husband wants to run for student union, and he's really going back and forth on it because any time he spends at school is time he's spending away from us.

I wish he could have had a normal college experience. I wish he could have lived with friends and focused on school and activities and just enjoyed himself. I wish that for me too. And *gulp* I wish I'd listened to my parents!

But not really. Because I love my husband and we were at the place in our relationship where it was time to get married. It just was. There was agony involved in every goodbye. We were sick of trying to fit each other in around everything else, of not coming home to one another, of loving each other as much as a couple who is married but living like a couple who is just casually dating. And love is the most important thing of all. And all you need is love. And love conquers all. And what other cliches can I throw into this paragraph in order to make myself sound even more cheesy and unoriginal?

If my son finds that kind of love, if it is agony, if he just can't wait, then I will tell him to go for it. I will warn him, but I will give him my blessing and send him on his way. Just because something is more difficult, or not the ideal way to do things, does not mean that it isn't right.

I love my boys.

Happy birthday, mom. Sorry your family sucks.

2010-04-10T06:53:00.000-07:00

Today is my mom's birthday. And in true psycho-family fashion, it is already a fiasco. For over a week, the hubbs and I have been trying to organize people and figure out what we're doing today. But my family likes to fly by the seat of their pants, are never organized, and things always end up going horribly because of it.

For instance, on my sister's birthday last month, we were all supposed to get together for lunch and cake at my parents' house. My sister had plans that night. We were supposed to do dinner, but my father had to go to "work" (read: get-rich quick scheme) , so we decided we'd do lunch and then she'd go to her thing. His get-rich-quick meeting got cancelled, so we could have done dinner, but he didn't tell anyone that.

Anyway. We all get there at one, like we planned, and my parents had spent all morning at church and hadn't done anything for my sister's lunch. Nothing was made, and she had plans that afternoon. She wanted to go, and then come back afterwards and do dinner (since it was now possible because the meeting was cancelled), but by the time she got home, our sweet Baboo would have been a mess (he gets really cranky at night) so we wound up just having cake, then she came back and had dinner with my parents afterwards. It really sucked and she cried and we were all really irritated and my "father" refused to apologize or admit that it was any of his fault. He refused to admit that he should have told us his meeting was cancelled, and refused to admit that he shouldn't have gone to church and instead stayed home and prepared my sister's birthday lunch.

This ALWAYS happens with my family. ALWAYS. This is why The Hubbs and I plan two celebrations--one with them that gets ruined, and one with just the three of us that doesn't get ruined. We have two thanksgivings, two easters, two birthdays, two Christmases, and this year we are planning on having two mothers days as well.

Today is my mom's birthday. And my sister "might" be working smack in the middle of the only window of time that we can get together to eat. 12-7. Ridiculous, especially because it's not like my mom's birthday is a new thing--TAKE THE DAY OFF! She claims she didn't know we were going out, and she says that she doesn't even know that she IS working for sure--she has to call in and find out. Ugh.

My "father" (and I use the term loosely), learned nothing from my sister's birthday fiasco and is going in to "work" this morning. He promises he will be back by noon, but all of his promises are made to be broken and it would be a miracle if he was back by two.

I had very strong words for him. I told him that if he ruined my mother's birthday, after the horrible year that she has had, I wouldn't forgive him. I told him he had BETTER be back when he says he will (which he won't).

If my mother's birthday gets ruined this year, I will be very, very unforgiving towards both my "father" and my sister. I really hope and pray that everything works out. But what I'd really like to give her for her birthday is a divorce. Too bad a third party can't enforce such things.

Happy birthday, mom. Sorry your family sucks.

Writer's Workshop: What I'd Do as New Mom

2010-04-08T07:03:00.000-07:00

Oh, there is a long list of what I'd do differently given the chance. A long, long list. I am not ashamed to admit that one of the reasons why I'd like a second child someday is so I can have a do-over. That sounds terrible, but I've realized some things in my 8+ months as a mommy, and I'd like a chance to use what I've learned with our next baby. So sue me.

I would definitely, definitely get professional maternity pictures done. Definitely. I love the photos that my husband took of pregnant me. They are lovely. But the problem is, he isn't in any of them. There's a couple crappy snapshots people took at my shower, and a couple where we did that awkward production of holding the camera up above our heads and snapping blindly, hoping that both of us are in the photo. In those ones you can't even see my belly. Awesome.

Another thing I plan on doing is going natural. Before you jump in and say "You don't get a medal for going med free" and "Don't try to be a hero", let me explain to you what happened in my last labour. The stupid epidural froze ONLY my legs. That's right. I felt EVERYTHING above my waist, but I was powerless to walk around, take a shower, bounce on my yoga ball or any of the things I'd planned on to get me through the pain because my legs were totally numb. Not cool.

Next time, I am getting a midwife instead of a bossy OB and I am having my baby at a birthing centre, in a birthing tub. I am taking hypnobirthing or hypnobabies to deal with the pain, and it is going to be a magical experience. And I WILL give myself a medal. Or a trophy. Because I've never won one and it makes me feel sad.

Don't judge me for being a hippie. The over-medicated, impersonal hospital birth didn't work for me last time, next time I'm trying something new. I would do a home birth if I wasn't terrified, so maybe that interferes with my crunchy, earth mama status, but baby steps. No pun intended, I swear.

To capture this magical experience, I am hiring a photographer. Again with the photos, I know. Our hospital photos, while precious to us, are terrible. Two exhausted brand new parents were in absolutely no frame of mind to be creating great art. Grainy, blurry photos of the most important moment of your life are NOT cool. I will not be getting any crotch shots or anything like that (I still have a very tiny sliver of dignity left), but at the end I will have a beautiful, non-crotch shotty slideshow like this. Best slideshow ever. Seriously. Watch it. Go now!

Aside from the stuff I will do differently during the pregnancy and birth, I'm happy to say that there isn't a whole lot I would change about the way I mother. I may look back in a couple of years and think WHAT WAS I THINKING!?!, but for now, I am satisfied and happy with the way that I am taking care of my son. You know what they say, though. Hindsight is 20/20, and I may be living in a sleep-deprivation induced bubble of rose-coloured denial.

Check back with me when I have a toddler and I can talk from a safe distance about everything I'll do differently next time.

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This has been part of Mama Kat's pretty much world famous writers workshop. Head over and check out the other submissions, or enter one of your own!

My Sweet Baboo. . .

2010-04-04T17:31:00.000-07:00

My Sweetest Baboo,
you are changing so much that I just need to take a few minutes to write down what you're up to these days. I can hardly believe how fast you're growing up. It makes me so proud and so sad at the same time. But mostly proud.
These days you are pulling up to stand a LOT on couches, chairs, laundry baskets, toys, you name it. You love to stand. You've also started letting go for a split second at a time, but as soon as you realize you're standing on your own, you sit down immediately. It's precious.
You also really have a mind of your own now. You don't like it if I take you away from daddy, or if daddy takes you away from me, or if anyone takes you away from either of us. You only want to CHOOSE where you go, you don't want to be told.
You love going out of the apartment, and as soon as we step out the door into the hall you squeal with excitement because you know that we're going out. Amazingly, though, you also squeal with excitement as soon as we come back into the building, because you are excited to be home.
When you hear your dad's keys in the hall after a day of hanging out at home with me, you immediately perk up and start laughing because you know that your dad is home to play with you.
My favourite new development, though, is that you now LOVE having a book read to you. A month or two ago, you would just take the book and close it and try to eat it. But now you get excited when you even see a book, and even though you take it sometimes in the middle of the story to check it out, you fuss when we stop reading until we start again.
Your favourite book is Mr.Brown Can Moo, Can You? But you pretty much love being read any story. Especially when we read in funny, dramatic voices. I love that you are a bookworm, just like Mom and Dad. I've been stocking your very own shelves with books for you in the hopes that you would follow our love of reading. It makes me so happy because you will learn so much and use your imagination so much if you continue to cherish books.
You are my most favourite favourite.
We can't imagine our lives without you, and we don't even want to try.
You are a wonderful, curious, active, non-sleeping through the night little miracle and we are crazy about you.
Love, mom

Education Schm-education

2010-04-03T12:10:00.000-07:00

I have a pet peeve. I am beyond annoyed with the trend that says that all childrens toys MUST be educational. The other day I was strolling the toy aisles of Wal-Mart, and in the baby/toddler section, I couldn't find any toys that were SOLELY aimed at kids playing pretend.
If I want to buy my son a toy phone, it has to sing the alphabet song and teach him to count to ten.
Ditto on toy cameras, toy steering wheels, toy laptops. Oy!
A toy phone should make ringing sounds. Maybe it could say things like "Hello" and "Good-bye", but that's it.
A toy camera should make the sound of a shutter and flash--it should NOT be responsible for my kid learning his ABCs. And clearly a toy car should go "vroom vroom", not "One, two, three." Better yet, the toy phone would say nothing and my son would make the sounds himself. He would also be the one imitating a car motor and horn, and the click of a camera. He would use his imagination.

He has plenty of time to learn his numbers and his alphabet, and that is something that I, as his mom, can teach him. I don't need Playskool or Mattel or Fisher-Price to do it for me.

And then I came across this.

And all I can say is that a bacon-flavoured baby formula claiming to be responsible for 4 month old babies learning to walk, and 2 year old children composing symphonies, has got to be a joke. It has to be. Please, God, let it be a prank. Because I just don't think my blood-pressure can take it.

I am not feeding my baby formula fortitfied with bacon in order to turn him into some kind of super-genius, and I'm not having my child learn a second language from a toy drum. This super-babies obsession is really starting to chap my tush.

Faith, Hope and Grace

2010-04-02T08:30:00.000-07:00

This weekend I'm thanking Jesus for coming to the world and showing us a better way to live. I am so grateful to have his example and for God's love and forgiveness when I mess things up. For the weekend, I changed my playlist to some of my favourite songs that remind me of my faith. Scroll down and press play if you want to take a listen. Enjoy hope and faith this weekend, and here's to passing along grace to others this spring.

To be "that talented"

2010-04-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

I have two new favourite photographers.

Erin Jean and Kelle Hampton.

I've been practicing photography a lot, lately, so I've started following photographers who inspire me. Well, part of me is inspired, the other part of me wants to throw in the towel right now because I know I'll never be that good.

Kind of like when I listened to Ani DiFranco throughout my teen years, when I was really into song-writing and poetry. I ended up getting so much better at writing honest, cutting prose because of her, but at the same time I kind of felt like she must've sold her soul to the devil to be that talented.

I very rarely come across someone whose talent makes me so breathless with awe and envy that I can barely stand it, but these photographers definitely do. And it doesn't help that the second one is also a blogger and incredibly talented writer as well.

Thankfully I'm too busy to indulge much envy these days, so I'll just pass these gems along. I hope you're inspired and if you are, let me know what you think.

Oh, and check out some Ani Difranco while you're at it. I'm pretty sure there can only be one "world's most brilliant lyricist" in the world, and she's it.

To my husband, on his twenty-fith birthday

2010-03-25T08:24:00.000-07:00

100 Reasons Why I Love You (let me count the ways. . .)

1. Your mouth
2.Your eyes
3.Your nose
4.Your smattering of freckles
5.Your wavy mess of curly curls
6.Your laugh
7.Your sense of humour
8.Your paternal instincts
9. Your massages
10.Your smile
11.Your empathy
12.Your lack of judgment for others
13.The fact that you let me buy any camera equipment that we can afford
14. The fact that you searched Ebay tirelessly for a month before Christmas until you found my new DSLR for under $200
15. Your willingness to help me keep Baboo still while I torture him by taking 100 photos
16. Your loyalty
17. Your respect for others
18. How much you love your son
19. Your playful nature
20. Your concern for the earth
21. Your passionate pursuit of knowledge
22. How much you value education
23. How far you've come in your self-confidence since we met
24. Your love of dogs
25. Your love for the mountains
26. Your willingness to tolerate beach vacations for me
27. Your inherent sense of direction
28. Your confidence in me
29. Always giving others the benefit of the doubt
30. Not minding if the neighbours are loud as long as they're having fun
31. Your willingness to take bathroom breaks for me every half an hour because I pee like a racehorse
32. The fact that you don't complain too much when I want to spend all day at the mall
33. Your aspirations
34. Your willingness to change diapers
35. The way that you make Baboo laugh like no one else can
36. Your fascination with squirrels
37. Your physical strength
38. Your emotional strength
39. Your open mind
40. Your passionate consumption of slurpees and Oreos
41. Your faith
42. The way you think before you speak
43. How carefully you drive
44. Your politeness to strangers
45. Your generosity
46. Your hugs
47. Your kisses
48. Your artistic talent
49. Your talent as a writer
50. Your attention to detail
51. The fact that you think I'm beautiful with no make-up and grubby clothes
52. How supportive you were when I was woefully overdue
53.The fact that you gave me daily massages when I was pregnant
54. The fact that you cried when you saw our son on the ultrasound machine for the first time
55. The fact that you want to adopt our next child and give someone a home who would otherwise not have one
56. The fact that you think I look good with my hair natural (and afro-like)
57. Your punctuality
58. Your love of art
59. Your friendship
60. Your lack of superficiality
61. Your willingness to wear Our Sweet Baboo when we're out and challenge stereotypes
62. The fact that you want to celebrate International Women's Day instead of Valentines Day
63. The fact that you are taking a Women's Studies Class
64. The fact that you like angry feminist music
65. How good you've become financially
66. Your intelligence
67. Your creativity
68. Your willingness to watch bad tv with me
69. Your willingness to buy me bad tv on DVD because we don't have cable
70. The fact that you watch Our Sweet Baboo every morning for a couple hours so I can sleep in
71. How affectionate you are
72. How proud you are of our kid
73. Your desire to see the world
74. Your passion for human rights
75. How much you help out around the house
76. The fact that you're the first to notice if we're almost out of diapers
77. The fact that you make most of the bottles
78. How supportive you are of my breastfeeding, especially in those early days when it was really tough
79. The fact that you don't mind me breastfeeding in public and don't care if I don't cover up
80. Your consideration for the feelings of others
81. Your willingness to try exotic foods
82. How quick you are to apologize
83. The fact that you appreciate literature
84. The fact that you realize that our son is his own a person with a personality and feelings of his own, and that you want to nurture, not stifle that (even when he makes us want to scream)
85. Your self-sacrificing nature
86. You're a good cook
87. You're romantic
88. How much our sweet Baboo loves you
89. Your friendliness despite your shyness
90. The way you put others at ease
91. The fact that you support my compulsive need to buy every childrens' book that's on sale for our baby
92. The fact that you watch Baboo several times a week so I can take a bubble bath and read
93. How excited you get when the new episode of LOST is posted
94. How excited you get when watching trailers of a videogame you're excited about
95. Your work-ethic
96. The fact that you'd rather walk than drive
97. The fact that you are a technical wizard
98. How handy you are around the house
99. The fact that you are not afraid to cry.
100. The fact that you are the best husband I could ask for, and best possible father to our son.

Thanks for being you. We love you. Happy Twenty-Fifth!

I wanna be MADE

2010-03-25T06:21:00.000-07:00

Today I'm participating in Mama's Losin' It's writers workshop.

The question is, if I could be made into anything, what would it be?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I want to be a supermom, superwife, superwoman.
I want to be a bohemian homemaker, who makes all her own cleaning supplies and cooks wholesome, organic meals from scratch and sews and knits adorable outfits for her child.
I want to be a creative genuis, who produces cutting-edge photography, paints like picasso, and dances like a dream, whose fingers glide over guitar strings and manipulate music like magic.

I want to look like I'm wearing make up when my face is really naked.
I want to be the kind of person who wants to run a marathon.
I want to be patient and soft-spoken and never raise my voice,
to not be driven to the edge of crazy by a child who is rarely quiet and
rarely calm, but often curious and always cute.

I want to be the kind of wife who cleans the cluttered kitchen,
says "How was your day" with a martini on a tray and an apron around her waist,
to prevent drips on her skirt and never trips over her heels.

Or maybe I just want to be the best me I can be.
The me who will likely never run a 5K,
but takes long, quiet hikes on hot summer days.

The me who occasionally loses it,
but always loves and will never leave.

The me who on some days accomplishes nothing,
but every night thanks God for giving her everything.

Bring on the sun!

2010-03-17T14:56:00.000-07:00

For the past three days, we have gone for walks. Outside. Without coats. Spring is definitely here. The world is beautiful again, and I am feeling a strange mix of nostalgia and anticipation. I want to be outside all the time. I love opening the windows and listening to the birds chirping and the neighbourhood kids playing.

I am so excited to take walks through the nature preserve, and head down to the playground by the lake. There is sand there. And concession stands. And a LOT of slides and swings and jungle gyms for my little guy to play on. I can't wait to dip his feet in the water for the first time, and see the look on his face the first time he feels the sand on his little toes.

Can't wait. And because he is so big and hefty now, and we plan on doing a LOT of outdoorsy stuff this summer, we ordered an ergo last night, and it shipped today. Yay!

I am going to miss the snuggly closeness of the moby wrap, but he's just getting too heavy, and it's time to move on.

I can't wait to take Our Sweet Baboo to the petting zoo, the Metro Toronto Zoo, berry picking, the pool, the fair, the farmers market, Niagara Falls, just about every summer activity out there. And I fully plan on letting him try cotton candy and ice cream and all the crap that good mothers don't let their kids eat. Because I plan on eating it myself, and nobody likes a hypocrite.

But yes, even with all the excitement of really being able to share this summer with a one-year-old (eek!), I'm feeling a little nostalgic for the things that summer used to represent. Like staying out really late at bonfires on the beach, drinking hard lemonade and playing guitar.

Going on Vacation. We may camp this summer or next, but it'll be awhile before we're able to afford a "real" vacation again. You gotta be financially responsible when you have a kiddo.

Or laying in a hammock all day, intermittently flipping through a novel and napping. (My kid is a handful. No relaxation for me.)

Of course it's totally not necessary to throw in the cliche that I wouldn't trade my kid for any of that stuff. Of course I wouldn't, none of us would, we love our little guys and gals. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't REALLY looking forward to when he finally starts sleeping through the night and I can leave him with a sitter, get a hotel room with a late check out, and escape with the Hubbs for 24 hours.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish we could afford a baby AND a vacation. Or that I didn't wish my husband wasn't going to be in school all summer, leaving me to contend with our son while he studies by day and attends classes by night. Who doesn't want to have it all? Or at least, most of it?

But in spite of what we don't have and can't do, there's plenty that we DO have and CAN do! Its going to be a wonderful summer, the almost-perfect wrap up to our son's first year. I can't wait. Bring on the sun!

Life in the Mad House

2010-03-09T04:22:00.000-08:00

So that was quite the long hiatus I took there. Things have been MAD, I tell you! MAD! We were all incredibly sick, then the hubbs had a huge project due so all my free time was spent watching Baboo so the Hubbs could do schoolwork. Then MY huge project was due, so all my free time was spent working on that while the Hubbs watched Baboo. A lot has been going on.

My mom is out of the hospital and back at home. She is really depressed and her personality has changed a lot. I would be depressed too. She's married to a jerk, has severe financial problems, lives in chronic pain, has been getting screwed around for her settlement date from the accident for years now. I would be enough to make anyone depressed, I think. It's just that its hard to be around her when she's like that. For instance, last week I REALLY needed to be working on my project, but she called to tell me that she was going to be home by herself all day. I know she gets really anxious and lonely when she's alone, so I offered to go over and keep her company (though I'd have to do my research the entire time). So I rushed over there and just hung out and worked while she napped. I threw in a load of laundry for her, took a break from my studies to go for a walk with her because it was beautiful out and I wanted her to get some sun and fresh air. Then when it was time for me to go, she kept trying to guilt me into staying.

"I don't want you to go."
"I hate being here by myself."
"I wish you could stay."

Well, I can't. I have a son and a husband and an apartment and responsibilities, and I put everything aside for you today but now I have to go. Just thank me for coming over and say good-bye. It makes me not want to visit, knowing she'll be like that when I have to leave. She is just not herself and I hate that she's so depressed.

Speaking of crazy family, the in-laws were here last weekend. The in-laws that we haven't seen since we moved across the country two years ago to get away from them, and didn't speak to at all until after Baboo was born.

It actually went surprisingly well. They just came for three days, which was great. Baboo liked them. They brought lots of gifts for him. We made them a video-montage of their visit and gave it to them on the day they left. They want us to visit this summer. We can't afford it. We can't borrow any money from them because that just really complicates things. We made that mistake in the past and won't do it again, though they offered to pay to fly us out there. Now they're offering us their airmiles points. I don't feel super comfortable with the idea, but we'll see.

I have been taking a photo a day since January 1st, and it's been a challenge at times. Somedays its just a crappy snapshot, but I'm no perfectionist. On Friday I'm going to see my cousin's new daughter, and I'll also be taking some photos. I'm pretty nervous about it. I hope it goes well.

That's all for now!

I'm so sorry I didn't announce the giveaway winner yesterday.

2010-02-16T04:50:00.001-08:00

My entire family has a horrible cough AND a stomach virus and we've all been puking round the clock. Nice visual, I know. Random.org selected dosomegreen as the winner.

Congrats and contact me with your address info so I can mail you your prize. Gotta go vom!

Momversation Monday: Is Valentines Day Important to You?

2010-02-08T12:53:00.000-08:00

Today's post is part of the discussion over at Momversation about Valentines Day.

I feel like I got hit in the head by a sledgehammer, I am soooo sick, so I'm going to keep this short and sweet.

On my first Valentines Day with my husband (then boyfriend), I told him I wanted him to plan something and surprise me. Back then he was a pretty insecure guy, and I was his first girlfriend and a little bit scary, so he had no idea what to do and wound up not doing anything. It. rocked. We spent our first Valentines Day parked in a car, up at make-out hill, drinking hot chocolate and listening to music. At one point we got out of the car and slow-danced. He gave me that year's cliche gift--The Notebook, the movie, which had strategically come out on DVD that February--and a pot of daisies, which I LOVED, and which weren't cliche at all. A) They were daisies, a virtual weed and my favourite flower. B) They were potted so they lasted WAY longer than the long-stemmed roses that all the other girls got that year. I was disappointed that he hadn't planned anything, but since it was our first V-day together and I didn't want to show my true colours JUST yet, I pretended I didn't care.

The next year I told him he'd better plan something to make up for the previous year's Valentines Fiasco. I had shown my true colours, he was way more secure with himself, and we had a super fun but decidedly unromantic time. We went to the Mongolian Grill, where we were the only people there because everyone else was somewhere super-fancy. We shot pool, played arcade games and mini-golfed at a sports bar. We took our traditional hot chocolate drive up to make-out hill and talked and listened to music. He got me blue roses, a box of chocolates, and "our" movie Guess Who, about a black girl who brings home a white boy.

After that, the details get hazy. I guess that's how it gets over time, things just don't matter as much once you've been together forever and you know you're loved. Things become routine, and that's okay, because I can still spout off a list of wonderfully romantic things that my husband has done for me over the years, and wonderfully romantic times that we've had, and they don't all have to be consolidated to one arbitrary day.

Last year was our last Valentines Day as a couple without kids. We wanted to badly to go out with a bang, but as we were broker than broke, we spent the day cuddling in bed, drinking cheap wine with cheese, listening to music by candlelight, and watching chick flicks. It was disappointing. It was blissful.

Last year we toasted to "next Valentine's Day", because we'd asked my mom to baby-sit for us. We booked the date a full year in advance. We just knew things would be better this year, and they are. We planned a fancy dinner, maybe a movie or a play, and most of all what we knew would be some much-needed time to ourselves.

Except that, just like on our anniversary, my mother is in the psychiatric ward again. I will spend my Valentines Day with my husband and son, which isn't the worst way I can think of to spend it. I will pray that God will make my mother better. Mostly because I love her and I want to see her overcome this. Partially because I miss having a mom I can call on for help.

I am so sick right now, and tomorrow my husband will be at school for twelve hours straight. I will be at home alone with my baby and no one to help me. I need my mother. I need to be able to call someone to baby-sit, or for recipe help, and I need to know that there is someone out there in the world who loves me as much as I love my son and who will be THERE for me when things go wrong. This is selfish. I know this. It should be all about her, not me. I am acting like a child, but maybe when it comes to your own mother you never really grow up.

Is Valentines Day important to me? Yes. But for now it will have to take a backseat to other things, like getting better, taking care of my baby, and schlepping my son back and forth from the psych ward three towns over.

Is Valentines Day important to you? What are your plans?

Flame Free Friday Confession: Pregnancy Bytes

2010-02-05T01:12:00.000-08:00

I hated being pregnant. Hated it. It surprised the hell out of me, too. I was one of those people who, even as a teenager, used to dream about being pregnant and couldn't wait for it to happen to me. I thought that I would look adorable, that I wouldn't get stretch marks (my mom didn't) and that I would feel overjoyed at the miracle of knowing that life was inside me.

\To be honest, when it happened, it kind of freaked me out. And when I could see my sweet Baboo rolling around in there, I thought it was kind of gross. I usually enjoyed feeling his kicks when they first started up, but if you know my baby, he's a mover and shaker and he went NUTS in there several times a day. After half an hour of crazy, non-stop kicking, I just wanted him to calm.down. It hurt. And it still hurts. We bedshare and I consistently wake up because I'm being kicked in the leg/stomach/head. This child!

For the trimester of my pregnancy, all I could eat was oranges and cucumber, and all I could drink was water. All of my favourite things made me ill, and even the SMELL of coffee made me want to vomit.Then in the second trimester my appetite came back with a vengeance and I ate two breakfasts, two lunches and two dinners daily. In third tri my appetite started to level out, but at that point food was my only comfort and I force fed myself two lunches every day because I just enjoyed eating that.much. Sad, no?

Then there was the sciatica. The horrible, horrible back pain. People did NOT GET IT. They were all like "You're barely showing, how can your back hurt that bad?" And I was all like "BECAUSE AN ENTIRE PERSON IS LIVING ON.MY.SPINE." I had a regular sized baby, people, and guess what: If he isn't pushing my belly way out, it's probably because he's ON MY SPINE. ON A FREAKIN NERVE. And we were poor and didn't have health insurance so there was no chiropractic or massage for me. By the end of each day I was limping home, and sometimes, I kid you not, I would honestly just collapse. My legs would literally give out on my way to the car, and I'd just fall down.

"I'm sure some of you are reading this and thinking, so what?"

And I understand, and you are right. So what, indeed? I did not have a high risk pregnancy. I wasn't going to weekly ultrasounds, stuck on bedrest or dealing with a sudden onset of pregnancy related diabetes. Compared to a lot of women, my pregnancy rocked. But here is the truly flammable part:

Many of these women who were high risk and went through crazy complications would be willing to do it again in order to have another child. I, on the other hand, am seriously considering adopting. I hated my run-of-the-mill pregnancy THAT MUCH.

My womb is empty, and I kinda hope it stays that way.

Writers Workshop: Motherhood is another word for Ambivalence

2010-02-04T07:16:00.000-08:00

This morning I'm participating in Mama Kat's pretty much world famous writers workshop.

BAM!

Ten Things I've Learned Since Becoming a Mom:

1. How to ask for help (read: lateral pass my baby to my husband/mother/crazy lady down the street as I run screaming for a bubble bath and a bottle of wine at the end of the day)

2.How to function on next to no sleep. For 6 months straight. And actually enjoy the hallucinations that sleep deprivation brings.

3.How to make dinner while dancing and singing La Cucaracha for the entertainment of my fussy baby, who will ONLY stop crying at the indignity of being imprisoned in his high chair if I'm making a fool out of myself the entire time.

4. How to use a Moby wrap. May not seem like a big deal to you, but when I got that thing as a shower gift, I was like "huh?" And I wrapped myself up in it and got stuck like a female Spiderman who lost control of her own web. And now I can throw it on in public in 5 seconds flat, and people look at me like I'm some kind of Ninja. Which I sorta am. Heh.

5.That it's possible to go a ridonculous amount of time in between having sex, even if no one is cheating or deployed. And that it doesn't mean that you don't love each other.

6. That its possible to lose all interest in shopping for grown up clothes, in grown-up stores, and that retail therapy can be even more therapeutic if the items are miniature and say "I love my mom" on them. (Doesn't hurt that all grown-up clothes in question will eventually just get pee or spit up all over them anyway).

7. It's possible for someone who was formerly against all forms of elective plastic surgery to be putting her "grown up" clothing money away to save for a boob lift.

8. Taking well over a hundred pictures a day can be fascinating, even if they are all of the same subject, when the subject is your Sweet Baboo.

9.It is entirely possible to want to sell your baby to a traveling circus one moment, and miss them like crazy when you finally get a break.

10. I've also realized that this ambivalence will probably follow me throughout the rest of my life.

Happiness that he's crawling will be accompanied by frustration that he's destroying the house. Pride that he's got teeth shadowed by desperation to stop the biting. Amazement that he's starting school will be clouded by pangs when I think about the fact that his teacher gets to spend more time each day with him than I do. And let's not even talk about his high school graduation, moving out of the house, getting married, having children. I'm glad I will have this blog, thousands upon thousands of photos, and lots of memories to look back on when that day comes. He makes me crazy, but I never want him to leave. Ambivalence is the word that most characterizes my new role as a mother. That's something I was very surprised to learn. When it comes to how being a mom makes me feel, I'm torn.

How about you?

The Bachelor: Sarcastic Comments from the Hubbs

2010-02-03T14:37:00.000-08:00

My husband is wonderfully sarcastic and has me in stitches throughout ever Bachelor episode. Here are some of the highlights:

In response to Jake telling Tinley, who finally got one on one date, "You've been really patient,":

"And by that he means she didn't try to force him to kiss her like that other girl."

In response to the age of the "contestants":

"Why are they all 23? Isn't that a little young to be so desperate?"

In response to Vienna saying, "Ali's not gonna break up Jake and I.":

"Maybe that's because you're not together?"

<-------Vienna

<-------Ali

In response to Jake saying, "The woman I marry will be the last woman I look at":

"Are you planning on blinding yourself? How are you going to fly a plane with your eyes closed?"

When Tinley said, "I could let go. . .of my heart. . .and just let it. . .fall. . .in love. . .with Jake":

We looked at each other and just burst into laughter.

When Jake described a two on one date as "almost awkward":

"Really? It's almost awkward? It's almost as though you weren't meant to be dating 5 women at once. . ."

<---the two girls on the date that was "almost awkward"

When Corrie the virgin got sent home immediately after telling him she was saving herself for marriage, and then Jake explained his decision by saying "Something's missing":

"Is it sex?"

Then elaborated by saying "I'm afraid she wasn't going to be able to open up completely":

"You dumped the virgin because you're afraid she might not be able to 'open up'? As far as euphemisms go, that one doesn't leave much to the imagination."

Poor Corrie.

...And those are the comments I have to put up with while indulging in wonderfully trashy tv. Tune in next week for more!

If your blog needs a makeover. . .

2010-01-31T11:55:00.000-08:00

Enter Blonde Ambition's makeover giveaway!

You're welcome in advance.

Momversation Monday: Bad Mom Moment

2010-01-26T09:49:00.000-08:00

EDIT: For some reason this was scheduled to post on Monday, but it got posted today instead. Momversation Tuesday. Roll with it.
Today's post is inspired by this momversation:

My poor Baboo. He has a cold, is teething, bumped his head and got a goose egg, and had his shots yesterday. He's super clingy and will only sleep pressed right up against me. I'm about to rip my hair out, but I feel bad because he's the one whose suffering. I also should've been watching him when he clunked his head on the couch. Bad mama. I know he likes to crawl under the couch, I know to keep an eye on him or else he will push himself up on all fours while under there and knock him noggin on the frame, but I was--what else--on the computer and clearly had my eyes elsewhere. What's worse is that I heard him crying and didn't pick him up right away because I assumed he was just whining about something unimportant. You know, like being hungry or having a diaper full of poop. When I saw the huge lump on his head I screamed like I was in a horror movie and promised him I'd never go on the computer again. That lasted, oh, half an hour. My husband shot me daggers with his eyes for the rest of the day, even after the nurse at the health line asked me a bajillion questions (Do you think that if he couldn't move his arms and legs I'd be on the phone with you right now? Do you think that if he was having seizures we wouldn't be on the phone with 911 instead?) and then assured me that he was fine.

That was my worst mom moment so far, and what scares me is I know they're only going to get worse from here on out. First time he pees his pants and then cleans it up with my cashmere sweater? First time he gets detention for fighting at recess? First time he stays out all night and forgets to call? Heaven, help me.

My guilty pleasure: The Bachelor

2010-01-26T07:06:00.000-08:00

I'm not going to lie or apologize. I love that show. I used to experience shame because of it, but I'm over that. Yes, its ridiculous. No, nobody (with the glaring exception of Trista and Ryan) ever actually stays together. But it's dramatic and funny and it gives me a chance to vicariously experience dates that I will likely never go on in my life (ziplining in Hawaii? Helicopter rides over France? I am not a Rockerfeller). And aside from all that stuff, it is not nice to talk about people that you know in real life behind their backs. But you can totally do it when you're watching people on a reality show because, let's face it, what do they expect? I can make fun of them all I want, and that is probably the number one reason why I watch the Bachelor--even though after Brad rejected both Jenni and DeAnna, I swore I'd never watch that show again. And then when Jason picked Melissa, and then dumped her for Molly, I vowed the same thing. And hell, I'll probably end up pissed at the end of this season and say the same thing again. But you'll know not to take me seriously. Because the show is just too entertaining and addictive to give up. I spend my days inside an 800 square foot box, I got to get my thrills where I can, you know?

One of the best parts of watching The Bachelor are my husband's sarcastic comments throughout the episode. He says that its the only way he can make it through the show, though this season he admits that he actually likes Jake for sending home the airheads and putting crazy Michelle in a cab for repeatedly saying she wanted to go home, just so he'd beg her to stay.

Here are a few of my favourites from The Hubb's repertoire of hilarious comments. We'll call this Hubby Words of Wisdom, The Bachelor Edition:

When asked if he thought Vienna was attractive (trick question, haha):
Vienna looks like a Zombie. A Zombie with $40,000 teeth. Do you think the other girls don't like her because they're racist towards the undead? Is that racism?

In reference to Michelle, who got sent home last week for demanding to kiss Jake and then getting upset because she'd known him for TWO WHOLE WEEKS and the kiss wasn't long enough:

You'd think that by now they'd have reached the end of the supply of attractive women who are crazy.

In reference to the fact that Jake is so afraid of heights that he was CRYING when he had to go bungee jumping on his date with Vienna (though that could have also been due to his fear of toothy zombies):

"Isn't he a PILOT!? Would you want the guy who's flying your plane to be up in the cockpit clutching the hand of the stewardess and bawling like a little girl?"

Stop by next week for more sarcastic comments from my husband!

I love free things! I love jewelry! What could be better than FREE JEWELRY!?

2010-01-25T09:29:00.000-08:00

I'm participating in the blogging event, One World, One Heart by giving away a necklace handmade by yours truly. One of my goals on my list of 101 things to do in 1001 days was to make a piece of jewelry, so I figured this would be the perfect opportunity. It's a gorgeously funky glass leaf pendant strung on a suede choker.

To enter, just leave a comment below with a way to get in touch with you! The winners will be drawn on February 15!

To enter other great giveaways in this event, visit this link.

Flame Free Friday Confession: Confessions of an Oreo

2010-01-22T09:52:00.000-08:00

Here's my confession: It's a big one, and something that I'm not proud of, but here it is anyway.

Sometimes I hate being Black.

I hate the hair. It is the bane of my existence. It either needs chemicals, or extensions, or massive amounts of combing and blowdrying and oils to make it look decent. And I hate that I feel that way. Why can't I just go natural? Whenever I contemplate going natural, I get pressure from, of all people, my mother. I can't go natural, I have to look "good". Why isn't the way I look naturally "good" enough?

I hate the assumptions of others. I hate that people think that I have to dress a certain way (Apple Bottom Jeans, lots of bling, Baby Phat baby-tees), and listen to a certain kind of music (hip hop, gospel, and gangsta rap).

I am not like that. I am not like my cousin who is getting her PhD in race and race studies. I am not like my sister who only dates black guys and enjoys Mariah Carey and Chris brown.

I love to sing, but I channel Sarah McLachlan more than. . .honestly, I paused here because I can't think of any black artists besides Janet Jackson and Whitney Houston, who I don't think are popular anymore.

When I was in high school and going through my rebellious phase, I didn't wear low-rise jeans or basketball jersey dresses. I lined my lids with black eyeliner and wore shirts with skulls and cross-bones on them.

I can't play basketball or run track, I am not a good dancer, and even in my post-baby body I am not booty-liscious.

But I am expected to be and do all of these things. I'm not and I can't and I don't even want to. I want to not disappoint people when I don't turn out to be what they expected me to be. I don't want people to be impressed or surprised when I don't use the current slang. I don't want to have to be ashamed that I'm more interested in travelling to Greece than Africa, or that I prefer HGTV to BET.

I just want to be allowed to be myself. I don't want to be called an Oreo. I don't want to be shunned by my own family members because they think I am "white washed". It enrages me that my own people are stereotyping themselves so badly that they are surprised when another Black person isn't exactly like them.

Are all white people the same? Do all white people drink tea and play water polo and summer in St. Barths? No? Then why should all Black people be the same?

I just am who I am. I cannot help what I like, and I will not modify what I do. If that's not Black enough for you, then you're the one with the problem. And frankly, you're invited to twist off my top, dip me in milk, and bite me.

Sweet Home Alabama (or Canada. . .whatever)

2010-01-21T05:46:00.000-08:00

Today I'm participating in Mama's Losin It's writers workshop. The assignment is to write about all the places that I've called home.

I have moved 19 times in my 24 years. It's so crazy I almost don't believe it. I know people who have lived in the same home their entire lives, and I am a little bit envious. They can show me the tree they planted when they were a child, the place where they buried their beloved hamster, and the place where uncle Chester tripped and cut open his forehead when he got wasted at their baby sister's third birthday party. I don't have that--my entire history condensed in the space between four walls. So when I think of the places I've called home, I dont think of buildings, but rather, people.

When I was a little girl I had a friend Tiffany who lived right up the street from me. We ran back and forth to each other's houses all summer and I liked her house best because she had Nintendo. Our families camped together, and they were some of the best vacations I can remember taking. They even out-ranked Disneyworld, because having a friend there makes all the difference. It's the people, not the place.

When we moved away, I had a best friend Molly that I met on the first day of school. She and I were inseparable and even did our third grade speeches about each other. For two years we played together every day, had sleepovers on Saturday nights and spent Friday nights talking to each other on the phone while watching every episode in the TGIF line-up. My mom says she can remember coming into the living room and seeing us just sitting on the couch, hugging.

The next time we moved I didn't have another best friend, and I don't know that I've had one since. I had a schoolmate at our new house who I walked to the community pool with, but I didn't like to sleepover at her house because her mother smoked and she snored like an elephant clearing its nose.

The next neighbourhood we lived in was full of young families with young children, and I got baby-sitting jobs with yuppies who came home 5 hours after they said they would and doubled my pay to make up for it.

When I was 17 I had problems with my parents so severe that I moved in with a friend for 6 months. We ate dinner in the living room on TV trays and watched the news, and for the first time in awhile I was able to breathe. Her mother was crazy, but her father was a peach and I married someone just like him. (Does that mean I'm the crazy one in this relationship?)

I went away to college and lived with forty girls, and it was just as hellishly wonderful as you can imagine. I made friends I will be close with for the rest of my life, and it also made me want to run screaming into the night several times a month.

A few years and roomates later, I found the perfect house and I loved it. It wasn't big or fancy, but it had arched doorways, yellow walls, a sunny kitchen, hardwood floors and a fireplace. The yard was spacious and filled with berry bushes and mature trees. I could have lived there forever. But one roomate got married, then another moved to Europe, then another got engaged and I had to leave it behind, because how could I carry the rent on my own?

Soon after that I was the one to get engaged and then married, and my home ever since has been wherever my husband is. It's wonderful to have that constant.

And now that we have a family of our own, I am adament that we will put down roots. I do not want to spend his childhood moving around, always looking for the next best thing. When we find our home, I want to stay there. I want him to bring his college roomates there for the holidays, and then his wife, and then his children. I want him to be able to say "Over there is where we tracked how tall I was getting every year, and that's where mom fell and pulled down the Christmas tree when she had too much eggnog." Though maybe I will have to have a talk with him about which stories we share and which ones we never tell daughters in law (or social workers) about. *wink*

I have a problem with playing in Haiti

2010-01-20T09:28:00.000-08:00

People are on a cruise. In Haiti. Royal Caribbean took people on vacation. To Haiti. There are people sitting on the cruise deck, stuffing their faces with food, donning their bikinis, frolicking and playing and gambling, while people die--IN HAITI! This interviewee seems to think that its fine because the cruise line brought aid, but I think the following:

It is their responsibility to bring aid, but NOT tourists.

It just strikes me as being incredibly insensitive. Can you imagine going through a tragedy the likes of which you have never seen, while hundreds of people are having the time of their lives--on freaking vacation, while your home is decimated? I have no words.

What do you think?

More details here:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34936685/ns/travel-cruising/

http://news.moneycentral.msn.com/ticker/article.aspx?Feed=AP&Date=20100115&ID=10992213&Symbol=KSS

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/opinions/editorials/let-the-cruise-ship-dock/article1437196/

Updates

2010-01-19T09:34:00.000-08:00

The Home Front: My neighbours are still ridiculously loud and trashy. There is still daily screaming, cursing and fighting, and weekly visits from cops. I overheard (from where I was eaves-dropping--if I have to put up with their noise I should at least get some good gossip) that the woman across from me is on parole, and that the woman downstairs has had her children removed from her before.

Here's my question: Do I have the right to judge? I feel like The Hubbs and I just had unfortunate timing regarding School + Baby, and we're paying for it by living alongside criminals, derelects and deadbeats.

My Mom: She's not doing much better. We went over to help cook and clean the other day, and she was really tired and weak. She tried to admit herself back into the psych ward, and they said things weren't bad enough yet. Nice, huh? They want to wait until she has another complete psychotic break from reality and THEN they'll help her. I am blind with rage.

Momversation Monday: Life List

2010-01-18T11:00:00.000-08:00

This momversation is about life lists.

I already have my list of 101 things to do in 1001 days posted on the side-bar of this blog, and it's been fun doing it and also kind of cool that when I think of putting something off, I can say "but I have to do it, it's on my list." It gives me an excuse to be a little indulgent and selfish, and make some of the little and big things that are important to me a priority. The idea of a life list, however, is a lot more intimidating. Maybe its because the fact that I have the rest of my life to complete these tasks means I'm more likely to put them off and never do them. Maybe its because the things on my life list would all be big things, as opposed to be 101 things list, which is comprised of both the silly and the significant. Instead of just listing off the things that I want to accomplish in my life, my life list is more of a set of ideals. It answers the question, "What are the most important things in my life?" Another way of phrasing it would be, if I look back on my life in 60 years, what do I want to remember having done?

My Five Big Things:
(in no particular order)

-Family
-Travel
-Professional Fulfillment
-Art & Growth
-Security

So how does this translate into a list?

Under family, I would say my goals were to get married and have children, as well as to add to my family by fostering close friendships. I am a firm believer in the idea that you choose your family even more than you're born into one. I have the husband and I have the baby, I have friends that are close enough that I'd consider them relatives, so as I go through life I just want to make sure that I continue to make these relationships a priority and really strive to make them work. I want to be close to my husband and son, always.

As far as travel goes, I have a list of places that I definitely want to experience. That list includes:
-Greece
-Hawaii
-New York (I went on music tour but the trip was too short. I want to go again and experience all of it)
-South America
-The Maritimes
There are a lot of other places too, but these are my top 5 (apparently five is a theme for me).

Professional Fulfillment: I want to start my career in a field that helps people, and I want to move around in that field until I find my niche. I also have other professional goals, which are also personal goals because they are things that could end up being business endeavors but could also be just for me. I'll talk about those under. . .

Art and Growth:
It's important to me to always be learning and growing and furthering myself as a human being. Some of the goals I was referring to above include becoming a better photographer. I do not necessarily need to become a professional--in fact, the more I learn about photography and the drudgery of editing, the less I want to do it for anything more than personal enjoyment. I do want to take a class someday, and I would love to have photos published. I want to be a professional quality photographer without actually having it be my job.

I also want to pursue writing. I have always wanted to have something published, and that is on my life list. Other goals include becoming a certified yoga instructor and getting my doula certification to assist women in childbirth.

Security:
Security to me means having put down roots, as well as having an investment in our future. In short, I want us to have a home of our own one day, and I want to save up enough money to retire comfortably. I want to be able to bless my kid(s) with a good education and a contribution towards their wedding or home, and I want to be able to help send my grandkids to college.

These are my Big Five. What's on your list?

The Sound of Us (Book Review)

2010-01-14T05:38:00.000-08:00

I picked up The Sound of Us randomly, while searching the post-Christmas sale at Chapters for a baby book. I saw a table of discounted paperback novels and rummaged around looking, honestly, for chick lit. I just wanted a light read, which this was. It was more than that too, though.

I loved this book by Sarah Willis. It's about a woman who is an interpreter for the Deaf. I have always been interested in sign language and have limited knowledge of ASL, but this book gave me an inside look into the Deaf culture and what it's like to communicate primarily with one's hands.

The protagonist of the novel suddenly becomes a foster parent to a little girl who is half African American, and the story explores issues of prejudice (they never use the word racism, because it's more about pre-judging people than actually having something against any particular race). This aspect of the story was also fascinating to me because my son is half African American, and because as an African American myself I have encountered prejudice and outright racism throughout my life. It was interesting to read about these things from the perspective of someone who is not a visible minority.

Finally, I loved the portrait of the foster care system that this painted. It describes case workers, the places that the children go to visit their parents, the court system, what biological parents go through to regain custody of their children, and what it's like to be a foster parent. Of course all of these things will vary on a case by case basis, but as someone whose parents were foster parents when I was growing up, a lot of what the book touched on rang true.

My husband and I have also considered fostering to adopt our next child. We have gone back and forth on the issue quite a bit, particularly when we think of what it would do to us if it didn't work out and the child was taken away from us. But then we think about how wonderful it would be if it did work out, and we were able to give a home to a child who wouldn't otherwise have one--especially an African American child, who I understand have a harder time getting placed with a "forever" family. I won't ruin the end of the book for you, but if you pick up this little gem, you won't be disappointed.

The Most Shocking Rose Ceremony in Writing Prompt History

2010-01-12T09:09:00.000-08:00

Today I am participating in Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop, using the following prompt:

"Welcome to the most shocking rose ceremony in writing prompt history. Please award roses to the ten people (or items) in your life that you’d like to continue pursuing a relationship with."

Here Goes:

Canon 30D: Will you accept this rose, you wonderful piece of equipment you? You have changed my life. You have allowed me to take photos of my child's split-second facial expressions without the lag time that my old point and shoot had. I can actually document each second of a sneeze, yawn or laugh, and then click through them like a flip book and watch the entire thing like a movie. It. is. wonderful. No more crying because Baboo was doing something adorable and I "missed it".

Ikea Gulliver: Will you accept this rose? Thank you oh, so much for existing. Thank you for allowing me to sidecar a crib with a bed, so that we crazy, crunchy co-sleepers are no longer all sleeping a top each other like a basket of wiggly puppies. Ah, being able to stretch, being able to roll, being able to actually have my husband stay in bed with me all night instead of packing up and heading for the couch at 3 am because there is.no.space. I *heart* you. A puffy pink heart.

Etsy: Will you accept this rose? You are the provider of handmade goods, and for that I love you. Sure, you have taken a generous chunk out of my savings, but because of you, I have things for my son that none of those mall shoppers have. You are a trove of treasures, like custom wall decals for my son's room, unique, one of a kind jewelry I can't find anywhere else, and this camera bag that I am asking the Hubbs to get me for my birthday.

(Stephie Mc)

(xcessrize)

Shutterfly: Will you accept this rose? You make great quality photo books and will occasionally toss 50 free prints or a free poster my way. For someone who has taken thousands of photos of her baby boy in the six short months of his life, you have been a God-send. My only issue with you is your use of Vividpics. I got some prints back the other day and my sweet Baboo looks like he has a spray-on tan, but ever since I realized I could turn that option off, I have been loving you more than ever.

Crinkle Book: Will you accept this rose? You are such a simple thing, I just threw you in my cart on a whim while shopping for my Sweet Baboo before he was even born. How was I to know you'd be the thing that saved my sanity on many a car ride? The baby loves you. You hang from his carseat and he crinkle, crinkles away. Your built-in teethers have also been a life-saver. Let's make beautiful crinkles together.

Moby Wrap: Will you accept this rose? You are amazing. I can put my behbeh in you and actually carry him, while having hands to get things done! I can cook! I can clean! I can wipe myself when I pee (don't judge unless you've had a baby who screamed every time he was put down)! More importantly, though, is the fact that you operate as an instant napper. 2 minutes in you and he's out like a light.

Bathtub: Will you accept this rose? At the end of each day, when the Hubbs returns home, you are there waiting for me, filled with bubbles and hot wather. You are a place where I can unwind and have half an hour to myself to study, read a magazine or a novel, or to just think. During my pregnancy you were a GODSEND for my aching muscles and back! Now you are the only place I can go for a little "me time." Thanks for being you.

Electric Fireplace: Will you accept this rose? My older than dirt building is heated by a radiator, which my cheap-ass landlor has set to "frigid". Without you, my family and I would surely freeze. Plus, you look classy, and I don't have to have one of those fugly space heaters that also look like fire hazards. One day I swear I will have my own home, with a wood-burning fireplace, but you bring me so much joy in this little apartment of mine. Plus, the landlord may refuse to pay for heat, but this is a utilities included building, and he still has to pay for the electricity! Thanks for helping me stick it to the man!

Portable DVD Player: Will you accept this rose? What would I do without you? We have no tv in our bedroom, and you provide entertainment for me when our Baboo doesn't want to nap on his own during the day and needs me to lay beside him while he sleeps. You are also a CD player, on which I can play ocean sounds for Boo to lull him to sleep at night. And you allow for family entertainment. All three of us can be together in bed, with space for Boo to roll around and play with his toys, and the Hubbs and I can have snuggles and watch a movie.

Internet: Will you accept this rose? You allow me to chat with other moms on message boards during the day when I would otherwise be lonely and have no one to talk to you. You let me read hilarious, insightful and informative blogs when the kiddo is sleeping in my lap and it would be too hard to hold and read a book. You link me to great recipes and let me set up playlists of my favourite music with the click of a button. I think if you stick around there's a chance of you getting the last and final rose. We have an "AMAZING CONNECTION!"

Studio 54

2010-01-06T12:39:00.000-08:00

Number 54 on my list of 101 things to do in 1001 days is create an artsy photo wall in our house. I was just turned onto this idea and I absolutely love it!

Tara Whitney is a genius. Absolute gorgeousness. Consider it stolen! The best part is, that in our ancient apartment building we cannot hang photos the normal way with nails. The walls are made of actual cement, so we have NO artwork up! This way, we just vignette the photos while they're still in the computer, then use lightweight plastic frames to put them up and we can attach them to the wall using double-sided tape. I can't wait to get that project underway!