An open book that no one wants to read...

I think I may have written about this before but I have made a vow to be honest about my experiences of becoming a mother. I hate how so many women sugar coat their lives for the benefit of those around them. Getting engaged can throw you into a tailspin of self-doubt and stress. Being married is fantastic but there are bumps in the road. Being pregnant, while a wonderful experience, also comes with a side order of hemorrhoids, sleepless nights and thighs that touch where they never used to. Being honest about these things does not detract from the experience. It just helps to make others feel less guilty about their own feelings and everyone feel less alone.

So, I have made a point of telling people the truth about how I am adjusting to being at home with Paisley. I love it. It is way better, more interesting and fun than I ever thought it could be. I don't feel exhausted or depressed and I'm not really struggling with the adjustment. Obviously there are days where I feel frustrated because I can't get things done or overwhelmed by everything but these moments tend to be short and fleeting. My recovery from surgery has been quick and I have not been crippled like I was told to expect. The experience so far has been wonderful and I am feeling happy and positive.

People don't really want to hear that. Nobody believes me when I tell them things are good! After all this effort to be truthful and open about how I feel I am constantly being lumped in with all the uber-positive fakers out there. It's a little ironic that by being genuinely happy I have left some people feeling annoyed that I can't just be honest.

What's a girl to do?

Formula One

I think I may just have the only doctor in the world who does not support breastfeeding. Most doctors (along with, oh I don't know, the Pediatric Associations and the World Health Organization) encourage women to breastfeed, if possible, for as long as they can. I took Paisley to the doctor today (9lbs!) and this is what I was told:

"Sometimes babies just don't like to nurse."
"Breastfeeding can very boring for babies...just imagine, the same thing for breakfast, lunch and supper!"
"Don't worry about giving formula - it's practically as good as breast milk these days."
"Breastfeeding makes you feel like a cow."

And so on. Now, I can see why she might say these things if I had decided not to nurse and needed some positive feedback to assuage me of my guilt but I am nursing and it's going really well. So why would you try and convince a successfully breastfeeding mother to move to formula after one month? Because she stopped breastfeeding at one month. If I've learned anything about the world of motherhood it's that women have this weird desire to convince others that what they did was the right thing. Women who don't nurse feel guilty and so they tend to oversell the benefits of formula. Women who breastfed exclusively tend to judge those who didn't. It's too bad. I feel like I have made a choice that works for me and if and when it stops working for me I will reevaluate. I completely understand why some women cannot or choose not to breastfeed and it's okay with me. After all, it's not my baby they're feeding and who am I to judge?

Women. If we could all just be a little nicer to one another this world would be a kinder place.

A Book Suggestion

Books are normally something I deal with on my other blog but every once and awhile there is a book good enough to straddle the line between sites. This is one of those books:

The Street of a Thousand Blossoms by Gail Tsukiyama

Seriously - so good. It's the story of a family in Japan and it spans the time before the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and extends into the 80's. It's just one of those books like The Corrections that tells a simple story about people's lives and leaves you feeling lonely for your new found friends when you close the back cover.

It is beautifully written, poignant, profound, inspiring and personal. I have never read Tsukiyama before but I will certainly read her again.

To Paisley: One Month Old

Today is your due date and it's hard to believe that you have already been here for a month. People told me while I was still pregnant that once you arrived we would have a hard time remembering what our life was like before you existed. In some ways that is true but there other days, quick moments, where I look at you in your bassinet or hear you cry and I am still caught a little off guard. A new person who belongs to you, is part of you, is sometimes too much to really grasp.

This month has easily been the most monumental of my life. From the moment they passed you to me and your Dad and I looked into your eyes, to that first night in the hospital when they brought you in at 2 am and I was still doped up and exhausted and thought you were mentally handicapped because you couldn't keep your eyes straight - you have changed me. I had heard so often that it takes days, even months for women to bond with their babies and that it was a myth that it happened immediately. So, I was prepared to feel somewhat apathetic when I first held you. Paisley, I loved you the second I first saw you and felt such a strong desire to protect you and keep you safe that I thought my heart was going to explode.



Before I had you I liked to sleep - a lot. I was always someone who needed eight hours and if I was tired enough I would cry, get angry and if push came to shove, I would have quit a job rather than go into a work with no sleep. Now, I wake up every two hours to feed you and believe it or not, it is a joy. I feel grumpy when I first hear you cry but by the time I have you in my arms and I am looking down at your little face I am cooing and smiling and genuinely happy to see you. I've never been happy to see anyone at 4:00 in the morning. We go into the nursery and I feed you while I sing you songs. I have developed an impressive repertoire of children's songs and when I run out I resort to reading you magazine articles in a sing-song voice. I figure I've got some time before you understand what I'm actually saying. It feels good to know that I am feeding you and my singing seems to calm you but it also calms me. Being your Mom has taught me patience and a gentleness that I've never really had to tap into before.

You and I hang out during the day and as I walk around the house trying to get odds and ends done I narrate. "Mommy is going to have some cereal isn't she? Yes, she is." It feels a bit funny sometimes but it makes sense to talk to you and hearing my voice makes you happy. You'll probably grow up to be that annoying kid who always speaks in the third person but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.



This month has held many firsts for you. You had your first bath and although you didn't really like it you tried to be cooperative. You have started making eye contact and we can tell that you know who we are and that you at least like us. You make little elephant sounds now and I think it's your way of trying on this new voice that you've only just discovered. You reached 8 lbs this month and we were so chuffed that you were growing well and were healthy. You slept in your bed for the first time and you slept in our bed for the first time and I can tell you that it didn't take you long to determine which you preferred. As soon as you lie down next to your Mom or Dad and are cuddled up between us you fall into a deep sleep. And so do we because it feels so good and so right to be a family.

Having a baby makes you think a lot about your own life and who you are as a person. Having you has made me want to be better, to set goals for myself and achieve them because I know that you will be watching. It has made me more determined to be the person I have always wanted to be because suddenly, all the things I do or don't do, they really matter.

I think you and I are going to be good friends and I am excited for all the things ahead of us. This world has so many wonderful things to offer and we each have a lot of growing to do.



Love,
Mama

Sucky...

I feel like I am usually a positive person but this will not be a positive post. Today was my 30th birthday and it sort of sucked. I was home alone with Paisley for most of the morning and tonight I am too tired to really do much of anything. None of my clothes fit properly and I feel fat and ugly and old. I also happen to feel like a dairy cow these days. There aren't any big celebrations and I can't really have a drink and my facebook account was hacked into. If some robot wants me to post "pimp-ass ring tones" on the walls of every person I know, did it really have to be done on my birthday?

Your 30th birthday is a big one. I had always promised myself that I would so something really BIG for this birthday. For Brian's 30th we climbed Fuji. I wanted to be either in a plane going somewhere spectacular or jumping out of a plane. I don't want to sound too pissy because I do realize that having a baby is pretty big and that Paisley is the best birthday present I could have ever asked for - I get that. But she doesn't come in wrapping paper and she isn't an activity that has made me feel young and cool like I needed to.

I am fully aware that how I am feeling is largely due to hormones and having been in my house for two weeks straight. That is why I am going to pretend today didn't happen and focus on tomorrow. Tomorrow will be good. My brothers are coming from Edmonton to meet the baby and we are having a small birthday celebration at my parents house. I will be surrounded by the people I love and who love me, and I will feel better I'm sure. And I'll be just as 30 as I am today.

Intervals

As a diabetic I have lived the last year of my life in 2-hour intervals. I always have to know what time I ate, how many units of insulin I took and then test my sugars two hours after each meal. My life with Paisley is lived in increments of 3 to 3.5 hours. She feeds every 3 hours roughly which takes about 40 minutes. I used to take my "bedtime" insulin before I went to sleep and then test in the morning when I woke up. Since day and night are indistinguishable from one another and I no longer have a bedtime or a wake up time the whole exercise has become a bit of a farce. At night I sleep for two hours between feeds and during the day I try to get little things done (like a load of laundry or a shower) between feedings. I have found it incredibly difficult to balance both schedules and have found myself missing meals, eating dinner at 11:00 at night and sleeping through countless blood sugar readings. While being a new Mom is going very well, being a diabetic Mom is harder than I thought it would be.

How Things Have Changed...

It is a cliché to say that life after a baby will never be the same, but after knowing Paisley for only one week I have to say that it is indeed true. Already my life has changed and I have gained a new perspective on many things…I understand things in a way that I didn’t before and see old things from a new perspective.

I now understand how my parents must have felt when they first met me. I always knew they loved me but I never really understood how much until now…

I now understand why people steal the children they cannot access and how painful it must be to not be able to see your child whenever you want…

I can sympathize with those crazy Christians who want to protect their children from the evils of the world. While our definition of evil may differ I can understand how you would not want such purity and innocence to be exposed to the realities of today’s world…

I love Brian more than anything but I have never before experienced such a deep, selfless love. She is reliant on me for life and I have never before been so important and so humbled all at once…

Hours can be spent just watching her, she is so perfect and with every little twitch of her mouth or gurgle, I fall even more in love…

I looked at Paisley today and I suddenly realized how it must have felt for my Mom when I so casually left home at 18. I remember her shock when I told her I had chosen a university 15 hours away and declared I was getting the "heck out of there". It wasn't her that drove that decision but a strong desire to get out into the world and be independent. I now know how it must have felt and how hurt she must have been. My heart aches for the woman who dropped off her first born and drove away, to go home to an empty bedroom and memories of me as a baby and as a child. How lonely she must have felt...

I feel more vulnerable than I ever have. I have always felt things strongly and I have come to realize that without knowing or without meaning to, this baby is going to break my heart...

One week in and I am already lost in her. She has become the centre of our family and the joy in my world. Just wait until she can actually do something.

Paisley Elizabeth Knox West

On January 31st at 1:44pm I became a Mom to the most perfect little girl I have ever seen. She was early and so unexpected that I refused to believe I was in contractions for at least five hours but she came anyway and I couldn't be happier.

I went into labour on the afternoon of January 30th. I was so tired all day and getting increasingly mad at myself for being so lazy when there was so much to be done. By the time Brian arrived home from afternoon classes I was in agony but insisted that it was probably just bad gas. I sent him to the store to secure some relief and only after that didn't work and the pain intensified to what surely would have been the worst gas in human history, I demanded to be taken to the hospital. We packed the hospital bags that we had been meaning to pack for weeks and headed to the hospital (where a part of me was still sure they would tell me it was a false alarm). They checked me out and sure enough, I was having contractions and was dilated 3cm.

Labour is a normal (and very useful) part of having a baby but when said baby is breech and has her head tucked neatly under your ribs instead of in your pelvis, it raises some major concerns. They tried to stop the labour by giving me morphine (Hallelujah!) and while that worked to slow things down they were still progressing. The Doctors were really torn about whether or not to c-section right away...I, on the other hand, was not. Brian and I repeatedly asked the doctors to proceed since I was probably going to be sectioned within the next 2 weeks anyway and I had already been in labour for 12 hours. They eventually concluded that they had no choice and assured us we would be next in line for the operating room.

We waited another agonizing 4 or 5 hours after that due to an emergency twin c-section and while I wandered in and out of my morphine haze, Brian managed to sleep for a few presumably uncomfortable hours on the hospital room floor. Soon enough they brought Brian his booties and surgical hat and we were rolled into the delivery room. The whole procedure didn't last longer than half an hour. At the point at which the doctors grabbed the baby's feet and started to pull her out Brian was invited to stand up and look over the drape. I will never forget the look of wonder on his face and the tears that started to well up as soon as he saw his little girl. We were both crying and when I heard her cry and knew that everything was okay, I completely lost it. They cleaned her up and handed her to Brian who took her to me and the two of us held our baby together for the first time. Words cannot describe how that felt - to know that this new little person was half of me and half of him and that we were embarking on this new journey together was without a doubt the biggest moment of my life.

The baby was originally named Hannah after my Grandma who passed away last year. Grandma was my best friend and a huge influence in my life and so I wanted to honour her by giving my baby girl her name. After calling her Hannah for a couple of days though it just didn't seem to fit. The name Hannah will always make me think of my Grandma and the more I thought about it the more I realized that this new baby was a new person and deserved her own name. My Grandma was one of the most interesting, funny and special people I have ever known and I thought it best to leave the name with her. It was hard to call my Mom and tell her that we had changed her mind but as always she was very understanding and she made me feel much better when she said "Grandma would have killed herself laughing about this!" and she's right. That the way Hannah was.

Paisley is the name of the Scottish town where my Grandma is from. My great-grandma lived there, my grandparents were married there and I was baptized there so it has a lot of significance for me. Not to mention that Brian and I loved the name and as it turns out, she looks like a Paisley.

Because of my diabetes Paisley had some struggles in the hospital with her blood sugars. The first two days were long as we struggled to get 3 good sugar levels in a row. Each test required a heel poke which hurt her and Brian was getting increasingly frustrated (and protective) with every poke. Each time we got a bad sugar we would have to start back at square one. Eventually though we did get it and her little pancreas woke up and realized it was on its own. She had some jaundice as well which necessitated another 24 hours in the hospital. It was long but she was a tough little cookie and we came home yesterday afternoon - 5 days since Brian and I first arrived in the maternity ward.




I can't believe how quickly we have fallen in love with her and how it almost feels as though she was always here. For 29 years I lived without her, and now that she's here, it sort of all feels like a blur. It could be hormones or a severe lack of sleep but it's just as likely that sometime between January 30th and today, I have truly become a Mom.

Simple

My New Eco-Friendly Shoes:

Jute uppers and laces

Bamboo linings

Recycled rubber eyelet guards

Removable natural laytex pedbed with a cotton canvas cover

Layered natural crepe outsole with a slight, slight wedge

Uses water-based cements

100% post consumer paper pulp foot forms

How cool is that? New shoes that are good for the environment...and people thought sliced bread was a good invention.

Time Together

This journey through pregnancy has been full of emotions; highs and lows and jig jags and admittedly a few side trips to crazy land. The only map one really has is the knowledge that millions of women have been there before you. The biggest problem is realizing that half of the women's advice is crucial and the other half is completely bogus and that it's up to you to discern what is what.

As I near the end of this journey I am finding myself overwhelmed with different emotions and some of them reside for too short of a time for me to even grasp that they've been. I am excited to meet this little person who insists on kicking me and tucking her head under my ribcage for so much of the day. I am scared of the changes she will bring with her. I have always valued my time with Brian above almost all else and I'll admit that there have been times where I have been envious of women who seem not to care if their husbands work 80 hours a week. I miss him when he's gone and there is no one else I would rather spend my time with...it's why I married him. I'm scared to lose that time and although I know we will only be gaining another member of the "team" it won't be the same. Maybe it will be better, but it won't be the same.

I am anxious about the unknown world I am about to leap into. Diapers, teething, drooling, breastfeeding...an entirely different world from the one in which I now reside. I know that with those things come joy, laughter, wonder and a love so deep I most likely have never experienced anything like it thus far. I know that at some point this baby is going to grab on to my heart so tightly that I will be forever changed and all of my priorities will be rearranged. I know that most of this will happen to me and I will have very little control in the process.

I look forward to Brian, Baby and I going to the park...a family. I am excited to see Brian be a Dad and lift his little girl onto his shoulders and throw her in the air, always catching her, just right. I can't wait for the cold, winter nights when Baby is bathed and still damp and put to bed. Where we read her a story, the light is amber in the room and she falls asleep to the sound of our voices. I see these things and I can't help but feel like my heart just boarded a run away train that won't ever stop.

My body is tired at this point and stretched to its limits, quite literally. I cannot sleep and I am never comfortable and I haven't seen my toes in months. But, when I lie in bed and she kicks inside me, doing tumbling acts that I can only imagine, I smile and take a moment to appreciate the wonder of it all. That our baby is safe and happy in her mother's womb and that she has no idea of all the things coming her away. I guess it reminds me that above all else, her and her parents, we are in this thing together.

Comeback Kids

Seriously, could I be any more excited? (Or old?)

Final Touch? Baby.

Absinthe Without Leave

I think getting used to this maternity leave thing is going to be a little harder than I thought. At first I was all like, "Wow! Weeks and weeks of free time to do what I want, when I want?! Wahoo!" I had a long list of things to do, from working on my new website and writing more to cleaning every nook and cranny of my house with a toothbrush. Some of the things on my list have been accomplished, other things obviously have not.

I suppose it's a matter of figuring out what my life is going to look like as I fumble along. I have always done well with a schedule and some consistency. I don't need a ton of routine but I need some. Getting to bed and getting up at roughly the same time every day makes me function better and that is certainly not happening. My nights are a blur of Braxton-Hicks contractions, being kicked from the inside, frequent (i.e. hourly) trips to the bathroom and a lot of tossing and turning. This means I usually end up sleeping for a few hours in the day which inevitably makes me feel lazy and unproductive and I am very hard on myself. At some level I know that there is no point in working on a routine anyway since any day now it will be thrown upside down and inside out. I suppose it also doesn't help that I have no idea when I am going to have this baby...tonight after dinner? During Hockey Night in Canada next weekend? Weeks and weeks from now? I have a friend who is so afraid that I'll go into labour when I'm with him that he honestly won't meet me for lunch or coffee unless it's at one of the hospitals. My life, at least for the next few weeks, is out of my control.

Yesterday I cleaned like a mad woman...which felt great. The bedroom looked better than it had in years and I knew that if I could keep things going at that rate I'd have the whole house in perfect condition by the weekend. Fast forward to about 9:00 last night when my hips seized up and the pain in my lower back was enough to make me wince with every step. I couldn't sit, or stand, or lie down without going into spasms and I knew (mostly because Brian was standing over me telling me so) that I had pushed myself too far. But it felt so good! So today I did practically nothing except berate myself with my inner mean voice and bemoan my unpainted toes, my growing belly, my hairy legs and the fact that none of my maternity clothes even fit me any more. Basically I threw myself a pity party but didn't even get junk food because I hurt too much to go to the store.

So...what does tomorrow bring? If all goes according to plan, balance. A little bit of work and a little bit of relaxing should allow me to keep up the momentum on the house without killing myself and also hopefully give me some down time to work on my less physically taxing projects (like learning Spanish). That's the plan anyway...but for all I know I could get hit by a bus, or better yet, have to push a baby out of my vagina.

Mooooo!

So there I was this morning, tummy full of French toast and happily writing an email when I noticed a little wet spot on my shirt. No big deal, I probably just spilled something...except I'm not drinking anything.

And then I realized that the spot was located directly over my boob and that it was coming from me. Reality came crashing down very quickly as the puzzle pieces fell in place. My body is no longer mine and my life will never be the same. I am making milk.

Move Baby Move

This baby is breech and despite my best efforts to roll and move and twist her into place, she's not moving. It's like she's stuck with her head under my ribcage. If she stays this way I will have to have a c-section and her head will have taken on the shape of, well, my ribs I suppose.

Winter Showers

Yesterday we watched the birthing video and practiced labour positions at our prenatal class. It was weird and scary and made everything seem very real and increasingly closer to actually happening. Gulp.

I also had my baby shower yesterday at work and loved every minute of it. I never really thought I would have a baby shower since I don't have any friends who know each other and those that do know each other are all guys. (Although they did offer me a shower...complete with strippers.) The ladies at work were very generous and it felt nice to be surrounded by people I know very well and care about and know that they are excited for me and to meet the baby.

Did you know that Tim Horton's now makes hash browns? It's about freggin time.

The Hand that Rocks the Cradle

On Friday, motivated by the prospect of an early baby, we headed to Ikea. Brian pushed me around in a wheelchair for nearly 4 hours while I commandeered the list and dictated everything we would need for the nursery. Before we left I explained to him that going to Ikea as a couple to buy stuff for our baby's room was a huge deal for a chick and that if he really loved me he would be patient and kind and not look at his watch the entire time we were there, no matter how long it all took. That I had been waiting for this day for a very long time and that although to him it may be a lamp or a dresser to me it would represent emotions and concepts far beyond his imagination. Basically, he boarded the crazy train willingly if haltingly and did a very fine job of it all. And at the end he got an ice cream cone and a wife who loved him to pieces for his efforts.

It feels so much better to have everything set up so that if baby girl does decide to emerge earlier than expected I am ready. Well, in a sense anyway. Pictures of nursery to come...

Panic

Today I went for an ultrasound to see if the baby was getting fat from my diabetes and she isn't. While they were looking at her though they noticed that my cervix was shortened to 2cm which apparently isn't supposes to happen until you go into labour. (There we go - I just wrote about my cervix in a public forum. Pregnancy can be very humbling.) There was a big panic (although we downplayed it because Mum and Dad came to my ultrasound and it was the day before they leave for a three week cruise) and I had to go see my doctor right away that afternoon. She gave me some steroids and I will have to go back again tomorrow for another shot. The steroids are designed to boost the development if the baby's lungs in case I go into labour right away. The doctor also told me that I have to take it easy and cannot do any cleaning , lifting, walking etc. This might sound like a good thing but it only increased my panic because all I could think was "I have to go to Ikea!" I have a list as long of my arm of things that need to be done before the baby arrives (cleaning baseboards, washing walls, setting up a nursery, sewing blankets, cooking a months worth of chili and lasagna etc.) and that list includes going to a prenatal class so at least I know something about what is going to happen to me! I felt a little less worried when the doctor re-booked me for 2 weeks from now - how much of a panic can this really be if she wants to see me in 2 weeks?

2007: A Review

Every New Year's Eve since I was probably about 10 or 11 I have written a review of the previous year where I highlighted all the things that had happened and the things I was looking forward to in the New Year. Here are some examples:

Dec 31, 1989

Dear Diary,
It's New years eve, tecnically it's still 89 but to me it's 1990! A whole new decade, just think another decade and I'll be 22! see ya at the stroke of twelve. Bye

(Okay, so not as insightful and profound as you may have hoped...)

Dec 31st, 1992

I can't believe another year has ended. I have lost another year to show people that i am special and to do the things I set out to do. Sometimes I feel so sad and sometimes I feel so happy. I wonder if this is just part of being 13? If it is I can't wait to be 14. I think I like Paul Rempel. He's sort of young because he skipped a grade but he's cute. I have made a list of things I am going to do differently next year:

Social Wise:
Get a boyfriend (it doesn't matter who)
Don't act so immature
Laugh differently (not like a duck)
dress better
always be cheery and self confident
Be friends with everyone

Work Wise:
listen in class
learn verbs
try
study
do assignments

Next year I'll be getting my learners lisence (sic) and will be leaving Birchwood and going to another school. That's pretty scary. I need more money if I want to be cooler next year. I guess I'll have to babysit more or somethin. I hope global warming doesn't get really bad next year - I think it would be so sad not to have trees.

Happy New year!

(Wow...and nobody diagnosed me with ADD?)

Dec 31, 1994

Well, it's certainly been a monumental year. I turned 16 had my first real boyfriend, first real kiss, first intoxication, first (and last) fight, made new friends, personal growth, laughter tears, got my drivers lisence (sic...still hadn't learned how to spell license), lived through the suicide of Kurt Cobain, the changes in South Africa, grade 10 froshing, my first encounter with the cops and the people around me grow and change. I'm optimistic about the future even though I still worry about the world and how fast things are moving. The way my life is passing me by but I also know that I can't stop time. As a writer I have grown and as a thinker. I was in a maturity recession for awhile but overall I feel good about this past year and what I have done and where I am going.

Goodnight and Happy New Year.

Dec 31st, 1996 (from England)

Well, it's been an eventful 1996. A lot of things have changed in my life-in fact, almost everything has changed in my life! I've moved away from home, graduated high school, left and moved to a new city and started University where I knew no one. I've made tons of new friends and lost some old ones. I had my first real boyfriend and experienced the pain of knowing that you have hurt someone else. I have laughed and cried. I have grown up substantially, especially in the past few months and will continue to do so. 1996 brought me my first real job, my last high school dance, a trip to Europe, a hot summer (the last with my friends) and the realization that I could do anything or go anywhere I really wanted. I can only pray that 1997 will be as happy and successful as the last year. I hope my family, friends and I learn how important unity is and yet continue to grow as individuals. Peace, health and happiness are my wishes for the New Year.

Well, that's about enough of that! You know where this is headed now...a summary of this past year. I'll do my best to keep it from being too flowery or mentioning personal growth or God.

This year was an eventful one for me and for Brian. The biggest thing that happened was being diagnosed with diabetes in late 2006 and then starting my insulin in March of 2007. Starting the insulin was a big one for two reason; it made the diagnosis that more real but it also put me back in control of my blood sugar. Brian and I celebrated our second wedding anniversary and made it to Mexico which was lovely. We had two miscarriages and then of course found out we were pregnant again and this time, everything has been tickity-boo. Brian not only finished his second year of law school but accepted his articling position and I was promoted at work. Then I left work. We have watched our families grow in number and watched new relationships emerge and older ones stumble. I went skinny dipping. We ate some wonderful meals and drank good wine. Brian and I grew together and I am happy to say that we are probably stronger than we have ever been. I have become even closer to my brothers as we learn the importance of family and how fragile it can all be. Some of our friends got married and some had babies. We went para sailing. Brian caught more fish than should be legal and I still haven't used it all. My cat turned 8 years old. We saw Stuart McLean, the Soweto Gospel Choir, Ian Tyson, Jann Arden and Justin. We bought a new car. And although this didn't happen to me directly, it did happen and it did affect me, this is the year that Kurt Vonnegut Jr. kicked the bucket.