No Balance without Compromise

When I first found out I would be having a baby girl it sort of threw me into a fit of particularly harsh self-analysis. For whatever reason I felt a lot more pressure about raising a girl than a boy. I felt like I had to be more educated, more accomplished, more independent and more determined than I found myself to be. I needed to hack out a path for her in this world, show her that women can have jobs, be educated and earn money. I wanted her to understand that I chose to stay at home but that I never had to and suddenly I felt very under qualified and to be honest, a bit ashamed.

It's hard enough to figure out what you want to be, never mind finding the time and money to do it all. All my life I wanted to be a doctor. It is a dream that still haunts me every time I go to the hospital or bump into someone who is in medical school. My stomach starts to churn and I feel sad. Having said that, I am fully aware of the time commitment that would take and I am not prepared to do it now that I have Paisley. I regret that I didn't do it right after my undergrad but I also know that I wasn't ready for it then and that had I done it I would have missed out on all the traveling I have done. My plan, once Brian was finished law school was to go back and get my PhD. This is still a possibility but even that has been put on the back burner for at least a year. Brian and I sat down yesterday and took a good look at the program and it just doesn't make sense to start it right now. I feel okay about that - it just didn't feel right and I certainly don't want to start anything until I'm sure it is exactly what I want.

I can't go to school full time and be a stay-at-home Mom. I can't give Paisley the gift of my time and presence and still be a full-fledged member of "the outside world". So, my plans as it stands right now is to relax. And enjoy Mom-and-Baby yoga class, and salsa dancing. Play my beach volleyball on the weekend and take a web design course in the fall. And write. Writing was always something that lurked behind everything else in my life, popping its head out every once and awhile. Now it will be given ample time and dedication and hopefully, the opportunity to grow and improve. Above all I want to enjoy the time I have with P - this quiet, special time with just her, me and a whole world to explore.

I can conquer the world on her behalf next year.

Okay, I lied, I'm not entirely okay with this. I hate making big decisions.

Punctuated Equilbrium

I am just finishing Lynn Truss' book Eats, Shoots & Leaves and I have really enjoyed it. What I have enjoyed most is the vindication I feel. All my life I have struggled with the idea of punctuation and quotation marks. When I was young it made me avoid dialogue entirely. I remember in the seventh grade I wrote a 22 page story (the assignment called for three) and never wrote a single line of dialogue. This technique worked but not for long. It is very hard to avoid using quote marks in journalistic writing. I was forever struggling with this, which was weird because I've always been good with all other aspects of grammar and spelling. To me, the punctuation should go outside the quotes when it ends the whole sentence and within if it ends the quote.

Why did she say "you'll never see me again"?
Nobody heard her yell "Where are you?"

(That last example still bugs me because the sentence doesn't have en end punctuation. It needs a period but it looks crazy next to the ? in the quotes. Arrgghhh.)

Anyway, at least part of my dilemma has been solved. My friend in j-school used to say, "What's so hard? All punctuation goes inside the quotes!" but that is not entirely true. That is only true in America. In the UK the same hard and fast rule doesn't exist and they are far more flexible with their approach. Being that Canada adheres to many, but not all of, British language conventions I am still not entirely sure where we stand. I am relieved to know however, that my confusion comes from somewhere other than my own mind.

Alberta: Stuck in a Rut

The Alberta government is currently developing a new license plate that is set to be releases in 2009. I have been following this story ever since I found out about it and participated in the survey for the new plate. I was asked what images, if any, I would like to see, what colours etc. I was very clear that the only images I didn't want to see on the plate was oil rigs or cowboys. We'll see if I get my way.

Slogans were another issue on the survey. Currently it is "Wild Rose Country" which I have to admit, is a little lame. The front runner right now is "Strong and Free". If that's the slogan I think I might just have to remove my vehicle from the road in protest. I hate that slogan! First of all, it doesn't make any sense. Strong? How? How are we stronger or weaker than any other province? Free? That's the really annoying part. Free from what exactly. We live in a democratic nation - we are all free. It smacks of the Alberta separation movement and sounds a bit American. "Strong and free" are words found in their national anthem, on many license plates and in the Declaration of Independence. Surely we could come up with something a little less inflammatory...a median must exist between a wimpy pink flower and a manifesto.

At least I don't have bifocals anymore...

Being a joiner isn't easy. Part of being a stay-at-home-Mom for me is being more than just that. I promised myself that this year would also be an opportunity for me to make friends, learn new things and have some fun. So, I have been joining things. I joined a few Mom's groups and do yoga in the park on Thursday's. I joined a sports league and had my first beach volleyball game last night. As I stood there, not knowing anyone, waiting to be introduced to my team mates I felt like I was in Junior High all over again. What if I'm at the wrong place and I have to walk out in front of everyone? What if they're really good and I am really bad? What if they don't like me? They weren't necessarily conscious questions but I'm sure they were at the root of that uncomfortable, queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Nobody likes to be the new kid and it doesn't get better when you are thirty. I can see why many people don't join things, why it's easier to keep the friends you have than to put yourself out there all over again. I have a renewed sense of sympathy for people who find themselves dating again after being "on the shelf" for awhile. It is not pleasant; it is humbling.

As it turned out (as it almost always turns out), my team was very nice and I had a great time. And next week I'll be the girl at the swimming pool asking everyone who walks in, "Are you with the hip mama group?" and I will feel stupid each and every time. It's hard but every time I think about not going, not registering, not bothering I tell myself that there are some things that are even more difficult than this. Namely, staying at home all day with a baby, with no life, few friends and nothing to show for your time.

An Order of Evil...Served Hot

"So, did you hear? My boyfriend is receiving the order of Canada?"
"Morgentaler is your boyfriend?"
"No. Peter. The hottest guy on TV next to Ian Hanomansing."
"Oh. Well congratulations, I guess."

So go the conversations around out house. In all seriousness, I'm pretty proud of Peter for this accomplishment and just as happy that Morgentaler is receiving the same award. On the radio this morning I heard an excerpt from Henry Morgentaler's reaction speech and he said "I deserve this award. It's about time that my accomplishments were recognized." I loved that. Fake humility is so overdone and really, so unnecessary. If you win a huge award for a lifetime of achievement you better think you deserve it, or someone might reconsider.

I remember being told my a Catholic man I used to know that you could see the devil in Morgentaler's eyes. Well, I guess the devil just received the Order of Canada.

To Paisley: Five Months Old

Having a newborn is a sleepless but magical time. Your baby depends on you for everything and is helpless and delicate. Those nights spent holding you when you were only 7 lbs and barely able to focus on my face were quiet and enchanting. That little newborn is gone, and now, in her place I have the funniest, sweetest little baby I could have ever asked for. In the past month your personality has really started to shine though. You are happy and love to smile. You will sometimes start to laugh and I can't help but laugh along with you. Your tiny little shoulders start to shake and if you find something really amusing you may even treat us to a little snort. Sometimes, if something is too funny and you've laughed just a little too long you will start to cry. I have no idea where you get that from. It certainly wouldn't be from me. Nope.


This month saw your first flight! We flew on our first family trip out to Vancouver Island. Your Dad has been home from school/work for the past two months and it has been wonderful to spend so much time with him. We had such a great time on the Island and you were a joy to be with. It was definitely different traveling with a baby but like most things in life attitude plays a huge role. We did whatever it was we wanted to do and then we made accommodations for you. This trip saw many other firsts for you: your first dip in the ocean, the first time you had sand between your toes, your first IMAX experience (I don't know what was bigger the screen or your eyes!), and your first experience with male pattern balding. While we gained so much on our trip in terms of memories, you lost a lot of hair. If you want to find it when you're older just head to the Super 8 on Douglas Street in Victoria.


This month brought our first Walk to Cure Diabetes. You, me, Dad, my Mom and Dad and my brothers all raised money (nearly $1000!) to help fund research for Juvenile Diabetes. I have had type 1 diabetes for nearly two years now and I think about a cure at least once a week. Sometimes I think of myself and how much easier my life would be without the insulin and the injections and the blood testing but mostly I want to be sure that this never happens to you. We still don't know whether my illness has any genetic component and when you're older we may get you tested to find out, but right now I am doing what I can to keep you healthy. Breastfeeding you is one of the most important gifts I can give you for your health and so far I'm happy with how well that is going.


You've started grabbing onto things lately and can hold your toys and bring them to your mouth. Where, apparently, everything belongs. One day you were holding your little toy giraffe and I said to you, "Say Hi to Sophie the Giraffe" and you looked right up at me and said "Hi" on cue. Your Dad was right there and the two of us just looked at each other and started to laugh. You've got good timing my love. You are getting better at sitting up, although you still need help. You still aren't sleeping through the night although last week you slept from 11:00 until six in the morning. I woke up with a start and ran into your room (okay, I didn't run. I couldn't run. There were rocks where my boobs had been only hours before) to find you still asleep, like an angel. I would have kissed you if I wasn't afraid it would wake you. I tried to go back to bed but was so full of energy from my SEVEN HOURS OF SLEEP!! that your Dad growled at me to stop being so happy so early. No matter what time you wake me up though, I have to say that one of my favourite parts of my day is the big grin on your face when you see my head emerge over the top of your crib. I don't think anyone has ever been so happy to see me.


There are days when I miss the mewing and squeaking sounds you used to make when you were new, and the little newborn cry. But these sounds have been replaced with laughter - both yours and mine- and an exciting sense that you are really starting to explore and appreciate this world around you..and you are helping me to explore and appreciate this world too.

Love,
Mama

Life Bytes

Our hard drive crashed. And I mean CRASHED. We bought an enclosure hoping we could pull the data off the drive and there is nothing there. So, I'm hoping that the directory is wiped but that the data is still there. Either way it's going to be a bitch to recover. All of Paisley's pictures are on there - her birth, the pictures of her being weighed and all the pictures we've taken since then. And of course all of our pictures from Korea, China, Japan, Hawaii, Journalism school and well, pretty much my whole life since it went digital.

Damn. And I had been planning on buying a big external hard drive for back up as soon as Brian started work and we had some money. Typical isn't it? Makes me think I should be getting that glass coverage for the car that I keep thinking about.

We had a wonderful time on the island but I have delayed posting about it because I wanted to load the pics and obviously, that won't be happening for awhile now. Will post about trip when I'm not so mad - all of this could have been avoided if I had just backed everything up. Procrastination is an ugly thing. Which is why I am putting off my vacation post. Somethings never change.

Walk to Cure Diabetes 2008

This weekend my whole family got together to participate in the JDRF Walk to Cure Diabetes. It was the first time we did it but I am hoping it will become a yearly tradition. I have to say that a number of times along the 5km route I glanced around to see the people I love most in the world, all walking beside me and tears came to my eyes. You know that feeling you get at the end of a really great movie where your heart swells because it feels like it could just burst with...something? Joy? Love? Wonder? Anyway, that was how I felt on Sunday. There were a lot of little kids there and a lot of families and it felt good to know that we were helping to raise money (nearly $900!!) and that my family was supporting me in the process. I am a very lucky girl, even if I do have diabetes.

To Paisley: Four Months Old

I can't believe four months have passed already. We are moving into summer now and I remember when I was still pregnant I would try to imagine this summer and what it would be like. What you would be like. Now we are here and it all seems to have come so quickly.


This month I celebrated my first Mother's Day. Both of my brothers drove from Edmonton to surprise our Mum and we had a great afternoon at our house. Mum was so surprised and touched and at one point I was sitting next to her on the couch with you in my arms and it felt so good to be both a daughter and a mother to my own little girl - like somehow life had worked out just the way it is supposed to.

This month also brought the final step in your Dad's academic career. His convocation was held on a Thursday afternoon and our family cheered him on as he stepped onto the stage to receive his law degree. You were very good, and even better after I nursed you under a stairwell in the lobby. Your Dad looked so handsome in his cap and gown and I couldn't stop from crying when I heard his name called - law school has been a long and difficult road at times and to be on the other end of it, holding you, made me feel so proud and happy.


Now that Dad is done school and doesn't start work until July he has been home with us a lot. The three of us hang out and go on walks and for picnics in the park. It's wonderful that we all get a chance to spend time together and I know how much he values this time with you. He likes to wear you around the house in the Baby Bjorn, which he calls his "man girdle" and plays the balancing game with you far more often than your poor mom can handle.

Up until this month your schedule had been a bit of a free for all. You went to bed in our room in your bassinet and then into our bed, and back into your bassinet and the time varied every night. We decided that having a routine would be better for you and better for us and we moved you into your crib in your own room! At first I was a bit sad not to hear your every movement and squeak at night but that sadness quickly dissipated when I realized I could get more than 2 hours of sleep at a time. Now we feed you, put you in pyjamas and read you your books every night at about 10:30. We read you a story of your our choosing and then always finish with Good Night Moon. You really seem to enjoy this time with us and love looking at the pictures. This routine has worked so well and for the first time since you came home you have slept for 5-6 hours on a couple of occasions. You still get up at about 6am to play and we're working on that but mostly we just accommodate you and enjoy every minute of it.


You found your voice this month...and it was in Montana this whole time! We went down the US so that you could meet your cousins, Sophie and Eden. We all went for dinner to Applebees and all of a sudden, from your car seat, you started babbling away to us. You had talked to dad and I a bit before, mostly when you were getting your diaper changed, but never anything like this. You cooed away and smiled and giggled and squealed. We were all so entranced by your cuteness and I couldn't stop hitting your Dad on the arm and saying, "Did you hear that!?" Poor man couldn't eat his dinner he was getting whacked so much. The talking continued all the way home from Montana and hasn't stopped. It is so cute and it's nice to know that you want to talk to us, even if you do have a Montana accent.

On the way home from Montana we stopped in Raymond at Grandma Patt's place and you got a chance to meet your cousin Freya. She is only a few months older than you and lives in Vancouver. You two hit it off right away and although not much was said, we could all tell that you guys shared some meaningful connections.


You are getting much stronger and when we pick you up we no longer have to cradle your head to ensure it follows your neck. You produce more drool than I ever thought possible...I am convinced that at least a third of the milk you drink gets directly converted to drool. You can sit up in your Bumbo now and still love your swing more than anything. You have also learned how to navigate your thumb into your mouth consistently and oh boy, do you love to suck that thumb! The smacking slurping sounds that emerge from that tiny little mouth when you're trying to jam that fist in there can be quite loud and have interrupted many a conversation.

I never told anyone this, mostly because I knew it didn't make any sense, but I used to worry when you were smaller that you wouldn't be happy. Now that you are able to smile and express yourself better I have no doubts anymore that you are a very happy little person. You grin at us and squeal when we talk to you and nothing in the world could make me feel happier or more loved. You make me laugh everyday and no matter how tired I am or how drooly you are, holding you and kissing your little face is the best thing in my life. I'm so happy that we get to be happy together.


Love,
Mama

Parallel Universe?

We went to Montana last weekend to visit our nieces and do some cross-border shopping (read: bought Kalispell's entire stock of gdiaper liners) and had a nice visit. That area of Montana is very pretty and rugged and so completely different from Alberta that it's weird. I mean, they are only separated by a barely-patrolled border and very little distance and yet it's like an alternate universe down there. I don't know quite what it is but it feels different. The buildings are different and the streets are different and the radio stations are WAY different.

America is a weird and wonderful country. I have spent a fair amount of time there in many different states (18 at last count!) and of course, Brian has lived there for years at different points in his life. And between the two of us we still struggle to understand the place. It annoys him that he doesn't have a better grasp of who and what the country is and it perplexes us to the point of frustration. We know so many Americans who have similar political/religious views as us and who are like any other Canadians or Europeans we might know. But the country, the way it thinks, votes, prays and behaves does not seem to reflect the people we know. Who are those people who put bumper stickers of the ten commandments on their truck? Who believe that American soldiers are being killed by Iranians and that it sounds like a good idea to build a fence between the US and Mexico? Who still think Saddam had something to do with 9-11? Who are the people who watch and worse yet, believe, Fox news? Who think abstinence is the only sexual education that should be taught in schools and who know so little about the world outside of America? I have wanted to dismiss these people in the past as a fringe group, as right-wing nuts, but they are not easily dismissed. Based on the last two elections I can only assume they make up the majority.

Brian and I spend a lot of our time wondering about these things, especially when we are visiting our neighbours to the south. American policies and attitudes often reveal a shocking ignorance of the world outside of its borders. Many really buy into the idea that America has much to teach other countries and nothing to learn. They believe that America is democratic and righteous and envied by the rest of the world. We've considered the education system as a possible culprit but we know too many smart and well-educated people from the States. America produces some of the sharpest minds in the world and has contributed positively to our social and technical advancement is so many ways. Is it its Puritan beginnings or lack of independent media? I haven't a clue. So, if anyone can shed some light on this issue I would be grateful.

My Paisley Pendant

I bought this on Etsy as a Mother's day present for myself. I can already foresee a life full of Paisley printed items. Maybe we'll name our next little one Gingham.

This Moment

Living in the moment is something we probably all aspire to. I find it hard to so sometimes - there is always an upcoming adventure or event or stage to reach. I remember in high school I always thought my real life would start in university. And then in university I believed it would start after I graduated. Then I went to grad school, and that became the barrier between me and my reality. Then it was getting married. I think that is why I had such a hard time with turning 29. I knew then that school (for the time being anyway) was complete. I was married, owned a house and would be living in Calgary for the foreseeable future. This is my real life. It wasn't so much that I didn't like it but that the arrival was for some reason unforeseen and a little anticlimactic.

This morning I woke up to a slight breeze blowing in the window...it carried with it that indescribable smell of summer. Paisley was sound asleep next to me. Brian was up and painting and I could hear his music. Saturday's Globe and Mail lay next to the bed, ready to be devoured and I could already smell the pot of coffee I was about to put on. It was so perfect that it made me hold my breath for just a second. A moment I wish I could live in for a little longer.

Me and Thelma and Louise

Today, all day, I felt a need to escape. I don't really know where to or what I would do when I got there but for the last few days I have been feeling so stuck. I look out the window and see the same empty parking lot every day and the houses full of people we still don't know. Nobody in our neighborhood (and I use that term loosely) seems to spend any time outside, except for the man across the street who walks the garbage to the dumpster in bare feet. Even in winter. I drive the same roads weekly to go to the same grocery store and buy the same food. I cook the same meals and wear the same clothes and sleep in the same bed. I wake up in the morning and I do it all over again. I can't help but think that right now, at this very moment, there are people living amazing and exciting lives in Dubai, Paris, New York and Tokyo and I am, here in Ranchlands doing, well, let's face it - a whole lot of nothing.

It's my fault that I feel this way. I have all kinds of things I could and should be doing and I feel like I just never get around to it. Some of it is because I'm often spending time with Paisley but if I am honest with myself, it is more that that. It's the way I've always been - full of grandiose ideas and plans and shy on motivation and self-discipline. I have a website to work on but have found myself tragically short on talent, knowledge and time. I have a baby book to work on and of course, writing. So much writing that never gets written. I am supposed to run 5 times a week and I don't. I was going to start to cook all kinds of ethnic and adventurous foods in my kitchen. I wanted to spend time learning more about photography. I have foreign languages to conquer and books to read. I have places to go and a person that I am supposed to be.

I am terrified. I am scared that this is it and I am going to wake up in ten years and my most recent trip will have been a cruise to Disneyland rather than an overland adventure through Argentina. I am scared that all the stories and books I want to write will remain unwritten and that my life will consist of the same grocery stores, the same rooms and roads and quiet evenings and all that will change is the view outside my window.

Strongasaknox.com

So...here is my new domain with my blog redirected to it. Do you like that? Strong as a Knox? Sounds like "ox". Anyway...

What I really want to do is create my very own stand alone website where I can blog, post pictures and basically plan my world takeover. But alas, my recent attempts at Dreamweaver, FTP uploads and index file thinga-ma-bobbers has left me feeling completely unqualified and depressed. I have mastheads designed and the whole site mapped out...but don't have the skill to do it. I'm a blind painter without a brush. So, until I find a kind-hearted web designer to teach me some magic or stoop to stealing a site...enjoy.

My First Mother's Day

Having had Paisley has made me think so much about what things must have been like for my own Mother when she had me. It's kind of neat that she had me at almost exactly the same time as I had Paisley because it's easier to imagine. I know how pregnant she was in the fall or at Christmas and what sort of things I was doing as the season changed from winter into summer. I have it better than she had it though and I didn't really realize that until now. My Mom had only been in Canada a short time before they had me. She moved to Fort McMurray in September of 1977 and I was born the following February. She knew nobody. It was dark and cold in Fort Mac in the winter and my Dad worked long shift hours. My Mom spent her time in a small apartment with no TV and only the radio to keep her company. It's no wonder I love CBC as much as I do. I imagine the 27 year-old version of my mother and I feel for her. She most have felt overwhelmed, in a new country with her own mother so very far away. With little money and no help or support or friendship. No mommy bloggers or baby websites to turn to with fears or questions. No fancy car seats and strollers and no where to go with them.

I wish I could travel to that time and place and show up at her door. I would take baby Caroline in my arms (who by all accounts was a very energetic little one) and put on a pot of tea and we would chat. I would let her take a nap or tell her a funny story. I would take her to a movie or watch the baby so she and Dad could go out. I would tell her that it would be get better and that soon she would make wonderful friends that she would still have 30 years from now. And I would tell that little baby how lucky she is and to be good. To think twice before she heated the marbles in the frying pan next to the brand new (very meltable!) counter top. To refrain from starting the petition against the choirmaster at school or throwing Dad's gold ring down the air vent. That she should never get a perm and that air drying her hair will always produce the best results. And I would tell her to always appreciate how lucky and blessed she is to have such a kind and wonderful mother. I would tell little baby Caroline that she would sometimes feel misunderstood and alone but that she would one day realize she had never really been either and that she and her Mother would become the best of friends. And I would tell that 27-year-old woman to stop and appreciate the small moments and laugh as much as she could because very soon her little baby girl would be all grown up and have a daughter of her own.

Even though I am now a Mom I know that the hardest parts are yet to come. Right now I have to feed Paisley and cuddle her and make sure she is comfortable. I do not have to discipline her or help her to navigate difficult situations. I can only hope that by the time I get there I will feel a lot more equipped and a little more rested.

Oh, and I finally got my copy of Infinite Jest...thanks Brian Paisley.

To Paisley: Three Months Old

This month has seemed so long to me. Not because it has been difficult, although it was at times, but mostly because there were just so many things packed into it. It has been an eventful time for our family and you have been the icing on the cake. Your Dad finished law school! I know that you will only know him as a grown up with a job but there was a time when he was a student and I was on maternity leave and we were young and poor but happy. This past month brought the busiest time of the semester for him - exams. About 6 weeks away from the beginning of exams your Dad will decree that he is now officially in LOCK DOWN. LOCK DOWN means I don't bug him for anything "extra" - this includes dinner dates, chores, errands or weekend excursions. This was my first LOCK DOWN period with a baby. Fortunately, it was also the last.

Shabba the wonder cat also left us this month. You probably won't remember the cat but trust me when I tell you that he was wonderful. Before you came along I used to carry all 18 pounds of him around like a baby. I would cradle him in my arms and cuddle with him on the bed when your Dad wasn't around. LOCK DOWN had it's upsides. Your Dad despised didn't always like Shabba. It wasn't him so much as the hair he left around the house. And the puking. But I digress...I loved him. He had been my cat for nine years and so it was very hard to decide to give him away. I posted him online and was contacted about a week later by a girl who wanted to take him. I took him over to her house and then I picked him up the next day. Let's just say it wasn't a good match. What this woman needed was a job, some parenting courses, a housekeeper, some anti-psychotics and a fitness regime but I can tell you that story when you're a little older. A few weeks after he came back another girl came to see him and it was love and first sight. I felt much better about this match and the rest is history. I still miss him and every once and awhile I will think I see him out of the corner of my eye. I must admit though that the house is cleaner and our marriage a little more stable.



You got your first shots this month. People had warned me that it could be quite upsetting for both the baby and the Mom but I didn't find it too bad. I didn't like seeing the needle go into your leg but since meningitis would be far more painful and problematic I soldiered on. You were so tough and didn't even cry very much. You were a little weepy for the next day or so and after that you were back to your wonderful self only now your B lymphocytes are producing some pretty cool antibodies.

You also went swimming for the first time this month. Because your Dad was in LOCK DOWN I took you to Edmonton with your Grandma and Grandpa Knox for a couple of days. We stayed at a nice hotel and visited with your uncles. The hotel had a pool and so we dressed you up in your little swimsuit and took you for a dip. You didn't really like it - I think the water was too cold. About two weeks later Dad and I took you again in Banff and you loved it! The water was warmer and you even went for a short swim in the hot tub. I turned the jets off because I thought you would either be afraid or worse, sucked into some kind of vortex created by unfortunately designed jets and we would never see you again. We were so proud of you and had a wonderful time taking turns with you in the pool. Eventually you fell asleep in a towel in Dad's arms and we carried you back upstairs.



The reason we were in Banff was for your Dad's Graduation Banquet. It was a very fancy affair held at the Banff Springs Hotel and we very cheekily decided to bring you with us. You were the only baby in the room (maybe even the whole complex) and I was curious/petrified to see how you would behave through the long evening of cocktails, speeches and dinner. Paisley, if ever you need to go out with your friends one night and for some silly reason I won't let you, just remind me of that night. Codeword: Banff Springs. You were the most perfectly behaved baby I have ever seen. You sat there in my arms in your party dress, wide-awake and smiling and you cooed your way into everyone's hearts. Not a cry or a whimper, not even a burp. I had to feed you in the bathroom with my formal dress hiked up over my head and even then you appeared unperturbed. At about 11:00 you fell asleep and I whisked you off silently thanking you for making the night so easy and your Dad so incredibly proud.



You have grown up so much this past month Paisley. You are talking more and even took your first bottle the other day. My Mum and I went out to a play (it was my first time out for any length of time) and Dad took you for the afternoon. You drank a whole bottle and although I felt a little guilty about giving you formula it was such a nice treat for me to get out and spend time with my Mum. You reached nearly 12 lbs this month and are looking less and less like the little newborn we brought home from the hospital. Some days I am anxious for the next step, the next sound or smile or milestone. Other days I miss my tiny little baby who fit in the crook of one arm and made little squeaking sounds in her sleep. What I try to do is appreciate each day as it comes and enjoy the little moments of our lives. Never before have the little moments been so little, or so big.

Love,
Mama

Non Sequitur

Having a baby has changed the way I blog. Like those movies where things happen all out of sequence I sit down and write in fits and starts whenever I get a moment. I will start a post only to finish it a week later and it will be finished sooner than the one I started two weeks prior. I simply cannot sit down and devote a chunk of time to any one entry and so, I dabble. I always make sure the date is accurate but beyond that, it's anyone's guess as to when a post might appear live in its completed form. So now that you've been warned you will understand when 8 posts appear at once or why an entry from March might appear in April. It's not pretty, but it's life.

Home

Yesterday I went for a long walk with Paisley. We went to the 2nd hand bookstore where I looked unsuccessfully for Infinite Jest. That book is way too long to get on hold from the library. As I was leaving the store and heading to the coffee shop I smelled something that literally stopped me in my tracks. There were men re-tarring a roof across the street and the sticky hotness of melted tar filled the air. I was immediately back in Fort McMurray in the summer time. I would meet my Dad at the bus stop and he would pick me up and swing me around as soon as he stepped off the Diversified bus that took him and the other men to work and back each day. His clothes, his hair, his hands, all smelled like tar sands from being in the plant all day. It smelled like work and heat and oil and, well, home.

The Fort McMurray that I called home for more than 20 years is gone. It has doubled, nearly tripled, in size since I left and the house I grew up in is occupied by people I don't know. The community is in crisis and is bursting at the seams. The infrastructure is insufficient and the crime rate is high. It is congested, crowded and dingy.

When we were kids growing up in Fort Mac we knew everyone on our street. Almost every person we knew had immigrated from another country. I had friends from England, Africa, Guadalupe, Trinidad, South America, India and of course, Newfoundland. It was safe and small and friendly.

I am envious of people, like Brian, who have their childhood home to go back to. I don't know that they appreciate what they have. My parents and siblings have moved south so there is nobody left to visit. All of my memories are locked up in a city I never visit and a piece of me will always stay there, suspended. I often long to go back and lie in the grass of my backyard or play basketball on the courts outside the junior high. To see people who knew me when I was a kid and bump into old teachers at the mall. While there is something to be said for starting fresh it is nice to encounter your younger self every once and awhile.

Today while walking to Starbucks I had exactly that. A fleeting moment where I was a kid again. When the most exciting part of my day was hearing the bus engine rumble its way down the street and me and my brothers would go flying, barefoot, down to the corner to see our Dad emerge from the folding doors. All the men would saunter down the street and shout their good-byes as they took their children's hands and heading into their homes for dinner.

To Paisley: Two Months Old

In the past few weeks you have stopped looking like a newborn baby (and let's face it they all sort of look alike) and more like your own person. You are more awake and alert and definitely more vocal. You cry louder and harder than you used to and when Mom or Dad does something particularly annoying like dig around in your nose, you yell at us. It's both alarming and endearing at the same time. I have had this feeling from the very beginning that you were going to be a feisty little girl and this last month has only confirmed that. I feel like I am really starting to get to know you - your needs, what makes you happy, sad and angry. You are only a couple of months old and yet you manage to convey so much in your facial expressions. You make so many cute little faces and your dad and I laugh everyday and fall more and more in love each time.



Co-sleeping seems to be a very contentious subject in the world of parenting. Any mention of it on the internet or in conversations will elicit a strong response, it seems nobody has a neutral opinion about the subject so we've just avoided mentioning it all together. You sleep with us in our bed every night now and it has been going very well. It makes sense to us that you would feel most safe and most loved in between your Mom and Dad. You sleep soundly and you cry less...which means I sleep more soundly, and I cry less. This month you had a little bit of an incident in our bed however. I was lying with you against my chest after a late night feed and we were both falling back asleep...and then you promptly puked all over the bed. I jumped up and picked you up, only in time for you to spit up on the floor as well. I washed you, changed you and went back to the bedroom to assess the mess. In the dark I felt around and quickly realized that the situation was beyond a one-person job so I nudged your father awake to inform him he was sleeping in a pukey bed. He was so good; he turned on the light, took you and spoke to you gently while I stripped the bed and cleaned up. What could have been a bad situation being that we were both tired and were covered in spit-up ended up being one of those little moments I hope I never forget. I looked at your Dad, bed head and all, holding you with one hand and wiping up the mess with the other and I realized how lucky we are. We are not only parents to a beautiful little girl but we are a team.



You love sleeping with us so much that it would make sense that you now bathe with me as well. Rather than stick you in the little plastic tub that you never really liked I have started taking you into the big tub with me. You love floating in the water and seem to enjoy it far more than the other bath. We cuddle and sometimes I feed you in the tub. One day you lay against me, a tummy full of milk with your little feet still in the warm water and you looked up at me with this look on your face, like you were so relaxed you were drunk. You looked exactly the way I felt.

The soother made an entrance into our lives this month and you really love it. We laid a couple of ground rules regarding the soother and so far they remain unbroken. The first rule? It's a soother or a pacifier. We refuse to refer to it as a binky, a dummy or a sucky. Just because we are parents doesn't mean that we have start talking like babies. The other rule is that you don't get it to go to sleep. A few times you've fallen asleep with it in your mouth but once your last feed of the day is done, so is the soother. So far it seems to work and it means that we are not awoken at three in the morning because the thing fell out of your mouth and jarred you awake.



You have had a lot of visitors this month and your dad and I have eaten a lot of dessert! We decided the easiest way to entertain company would be to make dessert. It meant that I wasn't cooking dinner for everyone but that we could still have something to eat with our guests. In one week we had people over six nights out of seven...that's six cakes, pies and squares! We loved showing you off though and people have been so kind and generous. Friends from Brian's school, my work and family have all come to see you and welcome you to the world. You don't know it yet but you are very loved and very lucky. And your dad and I each have some weight to lose.

The most wonderful thing that has happened this month is that you have started to smile. You don't do it often but when you do it is enough to melt my heart. You fully recognize who we are now and will make eye contact for long periods of time. At night I will take you into the nursery and say my hellos before you start to eat and a few times now you have given me a huge gummy grin. It makes me want to cry it is so precious and so cute. So many people have made suggestions and given me advice on how I can nurse in bed and not have to get up with you or encouraged me to make the night feedings very business-like with little interaction. I wouldn't do that for the world. Although you are only two months old I have already realized how quickly this is all going to pass. You are going to grow up and each month you will be a little bigger and a little older until you are no longer nursing in the night. Right now, those moments in the dimly lit nursery, when it is just you and me and sometimes the radio, are the best part of my day. You are warm against my skin and I sing to you and talk to you and stroke your hair while you nurse. The rest of the world disappears and I feel nothing but love and calm. I often think that if the leaders of the world could see you in that moment of peace and vulnerability and get one look at that fleeting but perfect midnight smile, you could stop wars.




Love,
Mama

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.

A Green Christmas

The months and weeks leading up to Christmas this year had left me feeling a little jaded about the entire holiday. I saw so many people wandering aimlessly down aisles filled with crap, looking for whatever random object fit into their budget, their wish list and their cart. I saw kids making their Christmas wish lists by walking down the aisle at Wal-Mart and pointing, "I want this! And I want that!" It really made me feel ill. We were shorter on money this year than we have been in the past what with baby coming and me leaving work so it was even harder to find nice things for the people that we love. I did a lot of baking and gave that away which worked well and we managed to find something special for each person on our list but it did make me think a lot about Christmas and what it all means. I made a promise to myself that next year I would make a point of buying things made in Canada, with less packaging and using recycled wrapping paper. Christmas doesn't have to be such a huge waste of energy, spirit and money.

As it turns out, I didn't really have to worry. We did well by our family and we all, without discussing it amongst ourselves, obviously made an effort to keep Christmas reasonable and green. My brother had the best wrapping idea ever and gave each of us our Christmas presents in a green, re-usable shopping bag - a gift in itself! I got dryer balls, all natural laundry soap and cleaners, books and organic clothes for the baby. (I also got the most beautiful diamond earrings from Brian - I'm so lucky!) There were bamboo socks, organic, fair trade chocolates and coffee...it was good. Nobody went crazy and everyone had obviously put a lot of thought and consideration into their gifts - it made for a wonderful Christmas.

I have decided to go off line for the next little while. The internet has started to take up a lot of time in my life and for the next little while I will allow myself to be consumed entirely by sleeping, spending time with family and friends and eating whenever and whatever I can.

Also, to those of you who traditionally might receive Christmas cards from me? Ummm...I've written up about 25 cards and even addressed them but to be perfectly honest, I probably won't mail them. My apologies. If it makes you feel any better I promise I will recycle them.