vegan mum

Avery's new word

2010-07-29T10:34:00.001-04:00

ME: "Avery, do you want to sing a song with me?"

AVERY: "I can't; I have crap in my mouth".

(There was nothing in her mouth)

never forget this

2010-07-21T12:36:00.003-04:00

Hayden has been in the habit lately of waking up at 4am and dicking around for about 45 minutes before going back to sleep. Any by dicking around I mean crawling around the bed on top of the husband and I, babbling to herself, repeatedly shouting out “Hi!!!” in hopes that someone will open their eyes and acknowledge her, and trying to gain access to my boobs. It’s all very annoying but I have begun to learn to accept it, and to just keep my eyes closed and eventually she will go back to sleep.

This morning, she woke at her usual ungodly hour and army-crawled over to me, wrapped herself around me, put her head on my shoulder and said: “mama….mama…” in the sweetest voice, then sighed deeply and went back to sleep.

Happiness, peace…have I been waiting all of my life for this? Yes. And here it is and I never want to forget this feeling. How could I ever have existed without these two little girls of mine in this universe with me?

Truly this is bliss.

happiness

2010-07-19T15:55:00.001-04:00

Well, well, well.

I suppose I got a bit ahead of myself assuming that I would be blogging it up here on a regular basis. I’m not going to lie and say that I’ve been far too busy at work with, well, work. I’ve been working, yes, but I have also been catching up on all of the political news, celebrity fluff and other randomness and fantastical offerings from Google that I missed over the year I was on maternity leave.

I have a small corner office located in a relatively quiet part of the building. I can sort of see a window. I have plants. I have earphones so that I can listen to music and watch you tube videos with sound. I have privacy and freedom from the demands of small, tyrannical children. Each morning I come in, plop down in my chair, kick off my grown up shoes (read: uncomfortable high heels) and drink a HOT coffee until it is done. The demands of my job are spaced out and often, I am finished what I need to do with a few hours to spare each day.

At home, things are wonderful. Hayden has FINALLY starting sleeping all night. I’m still nursing her in the morning and before bed, but she no longer wakes to feed and I am feeling much better for it. Avery sleeps most of the night in her own room and then comes in to join Hayden, the husband and I after that. Eventually, the girls will share a room together, but not until Hayden is a bit older.

We threw a 3rd birthday party for Avery last weekend. She had a blast. I think we had about 10 kids, plus her two cousins, plus the adults and my mother and father in law. It went beautifully. The husband prepared the vegan fare (pizzas, soy hot dogs, pasta and potato salads and a chocolate “princess” cake with pink icing) and everyone enjoyed. I tossed a bunch of toys out in the backyard for the kids to play with rather than having any organized games (can you imagine organizing games for a bunch of three-and-unders?) My girlfriend Karen came to stay for the weekend with her son, and while it was a lot of extra work (more on that later), it was really nice to see her and her 9 month old.

Avery is happily attending pre-school two mornings a week and the rest of the time she is home with daddy and Hayden. My husband is wonderful with the girls and they are all so close. Our marriage is very strong again; we are both happy and feel like the best friends we used to be, before all of the chaos. As the girls are getting a little less demanding and we are getting our evenings back, I’m finding that we almost never argue. After we put the girls to bed, we sit out on the deck and have a glass of wine and talk.

Hayden is starting to talk. She is still pretty whiny and very clingy with both my husband and I, but I know that this too shall pass. The other day the husband had to go have a shower so he asked Avery to keep Hayden happy for a few minutes and Avery replied by saying: “Okay Daddy, no problem. I can make her happy; I have silly faces.”

Avery is so good with her sister. They are both such empathetic and loving people. I have no worries that they will be close for the rest of their lives.

I have a 3 year old, a fifteen month old, a husband, a full time job, and a house and garden to keep but somehow I am finding a balance. This is happiness, and I have been waiting for it for a long time.

adjustment period

2010-05-10T13:50:00.002-04:00

I made it through 3 weeks so far. Being back at work is not what I thought it was going to be. I mean, the workload, the people, all that stuff is still the same. I really thought I was going to get a sort of mental break from being at home with the girls, and by association, I would be able to dig my personality back out from under the motherhood pile. This is silly now that I look back on it because my personality has never really gone anywhere; I’ve just added some new dimensions to it, namely dedicated mother.

As for the mental break, I don’t feel refreshed or free at all. I just miss Avery and Hayden terribly. The first week was by far the worst. I was crying every night after the girls went to bed. Coming back to work created such a deep sense of loss that I truly went into a sort of mourning period. I just kept agonizing about all of the time I am going to miss with them now. Hayden has been having a hard time with me being back too. I have been sneaking out of the house in the mornings so that she won’t see me. The husband tells me that she doesn’t cry for long after I leave, but when I come home she will not let me go. If she sees me walk in the door I can forget about going pee and getting changed out of my work clothes. She will scream and cry until she is in my arms.

I know this will get easier for Hayden and for me. Avery has accepted that I go to work now and she gives me a kiss and tells me she loves me before I leave. When I come home she bounces over to see me with a big smile on her face, ready to tell me about her day. I think going to pre-school three days a week has helped Avery to be apart from her father and I, and in turn she has been able to deal with me going back to work a lot better than she would have a few months ago.

Of course, my husband being home with the girls has made it a lot easier for me to leave. He was able to trade all of his day shifts for the year. We won’t have to worry about daycare (save for the few evenings a month when my girlfriend looks after the girls at her house for an hour while the husband leaves for work and I return home) until next January. I am looking into getting a nanny.

The guilt I assume will never go away. This is just something I am going to have to accept. I don’t know what is harder: staying home with the kids or working full-time. I know my patience was running thin towards the end of this maternity leave and I was looking forward to getting away for a bit, but now that I am working I feel even more stress trying to get everything done and then I am short with the girls anyway. And boy do I ever feel shitty about that. I am away from them all week and then I feel like a terrible mother if I lose my patience with them on the weekend.

Hayden is still waking up 3-4 times a night so I am definitely sleep-deprived, which I know contributes to the lack of patience.

Anyway.

There is a lot going on, not just as far as the girls’ development, but of course with family and friends and all that good stuff so I will make sure to explore these subjects more closely in the next entry. Until then, I will put my head down and work until the hours pass and I can be home with the girls again.

returning to work, and to the blogosphere

2010-04-13T10:27:00.002-04:00

I will be returning to work next Monday after a year home with my second little one. This means of course that I will have much time to Google as well as to finally write in this blog. I swear this is the only place that any of my girls' childhood will be documented so I had better get to it.

So a new title, a new dedication to my writing, and hopefully, some much more interesting content than was given in the past.

Going to be a regular Samuel Pepys, I am.

All I have time to write for now...

2009-12-24T11:55:00.001-05:00

Merry Christmas!

looking back, looking ahead

2009-10-01T12:04:00.004-04:00

Where has the time gone?

Hayden is almost six months old, Avery has turned 2. I was going to give up on this blog because I don't even have time to take a shower these days, but the other day I was thinking that this is probably a good way to keep a record of the girls, help me blow off some steam, and to remind me to be thankful and appreciative of the litle things...and the big things.

Hayden was colicky from 6weeks old to about 3 months old. I was so worried that I was going to have a really unhappy, high needs baby. Avery was pretty high needs but never had the colic so I was not too impressed. In fact, I went down the rabbit hole again and fell under the spell of post-partum depression. I pulled myself out of it after a couple of months and have remained pretty happy since.

I've learned to appreciate babyhood, and also to let myself sometimes wish for it to be over, but only on the very hard days. I have learned to appreciate the relationship that my husband and I have. Having babies with someone changes a relationship in many ways. After my husband watched me try to push a baby out, have two c-sections, and help me go pee and wipe and put my underwear on me in the hospital, it has finally opened my eyes to the fact that this man loves me. All of me. And he loves our girls. I think he is one of the best fathers out there. We have bad days, but I would say that the good ones outnumber the hard ones.

I'm going to keep writing in this blog because I have lots to write about. I have wonderful, beautiful, happy children and I want to document them. I'm going to do my best to write often, though I think this is a lofty goal right now.

For now I'll squeeze a few sentences in here and there between baby naps and loads of laundry.

home with my girls

2009-04-24T15:08:00.002-04:00

today is the day

2009-04-16T11:44:00.000-04:00

I am going in for the c-section today at 3:45pm. Wish me luck!

chocolate cookies

2009-03-30T11:53:00.002-04:00

Avery: 20 months old.

I am hopelessly in love with this girl.

Dear Hayden

2009-03-05T09:53:00.001-05:00

I am 32 weeks pregnant with you today. In exactly six weeks, at approximately 3:45pm, you will be born. Someday, when you and your sister look through your baby books, you’ll notice that I wrote her many letters when I was pregnant with her. Mostly, this is because I had a lot more time in those days, and the whole pregnancy thing was new and scary to me, and I was amazed that I was finally getting to become a mother. This time is equally amazing, but the anxiety and fear are absent, and most days I find that my mind is preoccupied with other things – usually things having to do with your sister Avery, or work, or family stuff.

You can be sure that you are just as wanted and loved (already) as Avery. We started trying for you in July of 2008. You daddy and I decided that we would like our children to be close together in age because we wanted them to be best friends for each other. I was pregnant with you in August. I found out two weeks after I had returned to work from my maternity leave with your sister. Daddy and I were thrilled.

You have been good to me throughout this pregnancy, and despite my gallstones, everything has gone very well. Though you will not be my first born, I can assure you that you are no less important, and in many ways, you are much luckier than your sister. You are being born to a mother who worked out all the kinks with the first baby and is much more confident in her skills now than she was the first time around. Avery taught me how to love unconditionally, to sacrifice my everything for another human being, to be patient, to enjoy breastfeeding, and to keep my babies close to me, even at night. Your daddy and I have a better, more secure and even more loving relationship with each other than we did before having children.

Also, I can’t tell you how thrilled I was to find out that you are a girl. I am in heaven. Two girls are what I have always wanted.

Daddy rearranged the bedroom and set up your co-sleeper yesterday. Your sister still sleeps with us and we don’t plan on changing that until everyone is ready. We got and still do get a lot of criticism for having our babies sleep in our room, but thankfully your daddy and I have ignored all of the bad advice. After we had Avery, your dad and I changed our lifestyle for the better. We became vegetarian, we stopped eating processed food, and we dug up our backyard and made it into one big vegetable garden. I embraced breastfeeding and nursed your sister until she weaned herself at 15 months and plan on doing the same with you. I learned to let housework and other things slide in favour of spending my time enjoying my baby and my husband. Perhaps one of the best things is that I am going to stay home with you and your sister for a few years. Your father and I have shifted our priorities and decided that family time is the most important thing. Work is necessary to provide us with an income but we can get away with having me at home for a few years and feel that this will be best for you and Avery. The hardest thing I ever did was leave your sister to go back to work full time.

I know Avery is going to be a wonderful big sister. You are coming into a loving, warm and happy house, and we are all so excited to meet you.

Until then, keep growing strong and I will see you soon my sweet girl.

Love,

Mum

xoxo

30 weeks pregnant

2009-02-18T11:08:00.000-05:00

I’m still here. We have been battling virus after virus at our house these past few weeks and I swear I have never been so tired in my life.

I am now 30 weeks pregnant and Hayden is feeling pretty huge to me, maybe even bigger than Avery was at this point. It’s weird how this second pregnancy has not been as big of a deal as my first. I feel like time has flown by and some days I even forget that I’m pregnant (well, not lately given the size of my tummy). I guess with having a toddler, a full time job and all the other stuff in life, I just don’t have time to sit around and reflect on this pregnancy.

I have not written any letters to Hayden yet and I’m feeling a little guilty about that. I have made it a priority to do at least a couple of them before she is born. I am scheduled to have my c-section on April 16th at 3:45pm. I find it very strange to be able to write the exact date and time of the birth of my second daughter in my planner. Besides the horrible heartburn and the gallstones, this pregnancy has been a pretty good one. I can’t believe it’s almost over. Most days, I am filled with excitement about the new baby; on other days, I’m a little worried about Avery and how she is going to feel about the whole thing. I’m also worried that I’m going to have postpartum depression again. I have spoken to my OB about it and have the name and number of a psychologist but I just haven’t been able to bring myself to call. Every now and again, I get a faint hint of the depression and anxiety. Is this when I started to get it with Avery? Before I had her? I can’t remember. I know the feeling well though. These tiny little reminders of it could be nothing, or they could be the first few dark clouds passing over the sun before the storm rolls in.

I am going to see how I feel over the next few weeks and make a decision about the psychologist then.

In the meantime, I’m wrapping things up at work and looking forward to being able to be home with my children for a few years, because truly that makes me a very lucky mother indeed.

the dump

2009-02-04T15:16:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I think that any accommodations, sacrifices, and compromises I make in my life, and in particular in my own home with my husband and daughter, are just part of being a wife and a mother, and are nothing special really; just part of the job. And then there are days like yesterday, and today, and a few incidents a few weeks back that cause me to reflect on the way I accept things, and the way I am viewed and treated in light of my accommodations, sacrifices and compromises.

I am very mindful of my husband’s workload these days and try to be accommodating and sympathetic towards him as a result. Though he does have a lot of time off (one of the perks of being a firefighter) I recognize that he also works on the firefighter union board and is currently studying for the captain’s exam that he will be writing in March. He has also been finishing the master bathroom. All of these things require time, effort, and produce a certain amount of stress for him. On the weekends, I take Avery so that he can do any union work or bathroom renovation stuff that he needs to do. He also sends Avery to the babysitter from 9am – 1pm on the days that he is off so that he has time to work and study. When I come home from work in the evenings, I am on full-time mommy duty to give him a break. I do the baths, the bedtimes, the naptimes etc. Okay, so I guess I am making my point here.

My husband has never really made a big deal, or done anything for that matter, for our wedding anniversary. He didn’t really even acknowledge my first Mother’s Day as a mother, which sort of disappointed me given the fact that not only did I give birth to, do most of the care for and breastfeed our daughter for the whole time leading up to that Mother’s Day (and beyond of course), but I also dragged my ass through months of somewhat crippling post-partum depression after Avery was born with minimal support and came through it stronger and better in the end (something I was quite proud of). To not have that acknowledged in any minor or major way sort of sucked.

This year for our fourth wedding anniversary on January 25th, I was expecting nothing. I felt that my general attitude that day of relative ambivalence and perhaps mild irritation would be a good sign to him that I was expecting the usual nothing and perhaps it was best to just get on with the day rather than dwell on anything relating to the event. He did not schedule our babysitter to take Avery for a few hours so we could go out for dinner, he did not get me flowers, or a card. I did not get him anything because, when I did so for our other anniversaries, I felt that he could have cared less given that he did not do anything for me.

So we had dinner at home (he made it) with a restless and cranky toddler and after dinner, I was presented with a cupcake (that was actually quite good) and scrawled on the box was a nice message about how much he loved me. And I thanked him and I felt that given that I was not expecting anything anyway, I should shut up and be happy that I have a husband who loves me, who is loyal, and who makes me dinner. And so it went.

Last night, my mother came over with some gifts for Avery and I. In the recent past, my mother and I have had a strained relationship. We are working through it, though it has been difficult because of her depression and the fact that I do not see her very often. I have however, come to the conclusion that I need my mother in my life. I need my mother to be involved in the life of my children; otherwise, a part of me feels like I am floundering. My mother bought me lots of very nice and much needed maternity clothes. Because of our budget, I have been trying to get by with a few maternity items paired with some bigger shirts that I already own. I have been feeling pretty schleppy as a result. My mother told me not to worry about what she spent; she just felt that someone should be getting me some nice and comfortable things to wear because I was not doing it myself.

She came over so that I could try on the clothes and have them to wear right away. While I was trying them on, my husband was in and out of the room doing something or other and playing with Avery. Every once in awhile I would try something on and ask him what he thought if he happened to be in the room. “Its fine.” is what he would say. He knows I have been feeling like a big fat marshmallow with arms and horrible frizzy hair lately and that is all he could say. He was pouting. He was pouting because it was taking me “too long” to try on the clothes and he wanted to wrap everything up, and have my mother leave so he could plop down on the couch and drink beer for the night. No he didn’t tell me this but it was pretty obvious. When my mum left, Avery was whining because she wanted my husband to sit on the floor and play with her. He was ignoring her demands so I dropped a pillow on the floor and sat down in a bit of a huff.

“What?” he asked

“She wants us to sit with her”

“I know, she’s been whining at me all day to sit on the ground with her”

All day? I thought. He picked her up from daycare at 1pm and then she napped from 2-4pm. Then I was home by 5.

I am so tired and so big now. I’ve got some kind of stupid insomnia that prevents me from getting more than 6 hours of sleep a night and I work all day. My feet are swollen. Before bed, I ask him to get out the bin of shoes I have stored in the basement so that I can have a comfortable pair to wear the next day.

“I’m getting blisters now from the swelling so I need my other shoes” I tell him. He tells me he will bring the box up from the basement later. I go to bed. When I get up this morning, there is no box. It is still buried under stuff in the basement. I stuff my fat feet into my blister shoes.

Over the weekend, he decides to clean out the basement and the garage and take the stuff to the dump. He piles everything into the van and takes it to the dump on Monday only to find that the dump is closed. The good news about this is that I find out, purely by accident when Avery drags out my old empty camera case, that he has put my dead grandfather’s vintage Minolta, along with every camera accessory known to man that was bequeathed to me into a garbage bag and was planning on taking it to the dump.

I ask him why he would throw that out. He tells me that it was just sitting in a box in the basement. I say, well gee honey, I don’t have a lot of time for hobbies anymore so I was storing it until I am able to use it again one day. Also, it has sentimental value. Oh yeah, and photography was kind of a hobby of mine until the bondage of motherhood claimed it. He tells me he will go through the bags the next day before he goes to the dump and make sure that he puts the camera and all of the accessories back.

He called me at work this afternoon and asked me if I needed anything.

“Did you remember to take my camera and stuff out of the garbage?” I ask him.

No, he did not. He threw out my fucking camera – the camera that my grandfather gave to me, and all of the really cool shit that came with it. How in the fuck did he forget something like that?

And this is where I am now. I got off the phone with him and almost started crying at my desk. I am heartbroken about the camera because it was smashed and destroyed this morning before we could call and see if they could retrieve it. I can’t even think about it because it hurts so much. But really, I am astounded at the fact that he didn’t even bother to remember something so important for me.

After everything I do. After everything I try to be considerate of.

I don’t even know what to say to him.

To me, this shows lack of fucking care and consideration. This isn’t forgetting to pick up some corn flakes for me at the grocery store.

I am pregnant, overworked, tired and stressed. I don’t do anything for myself. I feel fat and gross. My hair is horrible because I don’t have the time to straighten it when I wash it. If it weren’t for my mother, I would be looking extra shitty in my cheap, oversized crap clothes. I don’t go out for drinks when the girls from my mom group go because my husband has a hard time putting Avery to bed without me there. I don’t do anything and I have accepted this for so long that it has become the norm. When my husband mentioned that he was going out for beers after work on Thursday I flinched a little, but I didn’t say anything. When he tells me to stick to the budget he designed, I do. When I am at home with Avery all day by myself, the house is clean and dinner is on the table when he gets in. I ask for nothing. Not backrubs, not a day off and away by myself.

What the fuck am I doing wrong?

the halcyon holidays

2009-01-14T14:21:00.000-05:00

It has been quite a while since I’ve updated this thing. Christmas was crazy and tantrum-filled (many of those tantrums were thrown by me) as we hauled ass from place to place, visiting people I could really care less about for the most part and explaining to family members over and over that no, we do not eat turkey – we are vegetarian – turkey is meat. So is chicken. So is fish. We don’t eat that shit. So don’t pass the fucking turkey thanks so much.

The husband was working day shift on Christmas Day so I went solo to my dad’s house with Avery. I made my dad promise me over and over that no one would be smoking in the house while his pregnant daughter and lovely granddaughter were there and he assured me that no one would be smoking in the house. As soon as his girlfriend’s broke-ass relatives arrived, they all grabbed the rye and headed for the basement where they proceeded to smoke like it was bingo night. I had to explain to my father and his girlfriend that even though those motherfuckers were smoking in the basement, it did not mean that the smoke was not travelling up through the house. Also, the dinner table was set up in the basement, so there was no way in hell I would be eating down there.

So after spending the entire afternoon running around after Avery without any help, she and I ended up eating upstairs by ourselves while all the assholes gorged downstairs. I’m happy to report that of the two turkeys cooked that day, one of them succeeded in sickening several of the dinner guests. Ha!

And sadly, after all of my plans to get my mother in law the most thoughtless, cheap and horrible birthday gift in the history of all birthday gifts, my gallbladder threw a wrench into the whole thing, choosing to attack me on not one, but two occasions before her birthday and I ended up re-gifting some crap that I got for early Christmas gifts from other thoughtless people. I did manage to include some dollar store candles that I am hoping will prove to be nothing more than lead filled fire hazards. I picture her sitting on her couch next to one as it burns away, pretending to read one of her Oprah’s book club books while inhaling the carcinogens. It warms the cockles of me heart, it does.

Anyhoo the big story of the Christmas holidays was the day that she and the other members of my dysfunctional in-laws came over to our house. Once everyone was seated, I brought her the birthday gift I got for her. She opened it and thanked me and then I notice her jump up, grab a card from her purse, then get a pen from her purse, open the card and begin writing in it. I did not think anything of it until I opened my birthday card from her and saw that in blue ink was written “Happy Birthday from blank and blank” and in black ink, hastily scribbled on the other side of the card read “you might want a massage after you have the baby so let us know and we will pay for it”.

She had failed to get my anything but a cheap card for my birthday. And once she realized that I am not a total shit like she is, and I actually made some effort for her, she tried to secretly write that massage crap in my card without me noticing.

That’s one.

Then, when Avery was trying to get my father in law to sit and colour with her, he kneeled down and drew a cat on the paper for her and then stood up to walk away. Avery chased after him to get him to come back and colour. My mother in law piped up “She wants you to draw with her” she said to him. And literally whining he said “I just did. I drew her a cat. What else am I supposed to draw?”

Rage is not the word. If he had turned and looked at me at that moment my eyes would have burned a hole through his flesh.

Dear readers (if there are any of you left), I am done with that family. I have not spoken to any of them since.

For now, this is all I care to write on the subject as I am still seething with rage. I am trying to calm down and not let it poison me, but today when my father in law called the house (I believe this is literally the 3rd time he has EVER called our house) it was not to check in and see how Avery was feeling after having been sick with fever for the last four days, it was to borrow my husband’s air-nailer.

I’m about ready to let loose. It’s going to happen soon. I will blog about the event Stay tuned.

parenting circa 1890

2008-12-17T10:39:00.001-05:00

Could we possibly dumb down parenting any more? I think Western culture has managed to strip women of all their natural instincts and then replaced it with a steady stream of stupid pregnancy and baby book information. I was watching television last night – something baby related on one of those for-babies and parents TV channels and one of their “parenting advice segments” came on. This is a 5 minute feature which “tackles” real life parenting questions for the viewers. The question on this segment came from a mother who wanted to know if she could “spoil her child with too much affection”. She actually asked that fucking question. And they TOOK IT SERIOUSLY ENOUGH TO DEVOTE AN ENTIRE 5 MINUTES TO IT!

Where the hell is this sort of Victorian thinking coming from?

This is my answer to this woman: You fail. If you have to ask a question like that then you suck at motherhood. You gave birth to a human being, not a potato. Human beings need love and affection. Perhaps you are a cyborg and have adopted a human child and do not understand what babies need? If this is the case then I suggest that you return the baby and go back to your planet.

When I was pregnant, I read the usual tripe on the subject that you find in any bookstore. Horrible books like “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” and “What to Expect in the First Year” initially made me feel like a bad parent because I was unable to “harden my heart and let my baby cry it out” or because I had a glass of wine with Christmas dinner. These books are shit and totally contrary to any instinct the human mother generally possesses. This might be offensive to some parents but I think letting a baby cry it out in a crib to teach them independence is bullshit. It’s wrong and ours is the only culture that thinks it is acceptable. Some books I read even tell the parent not to worry if the baby cries so hard that she throws up – simply go and clean it up with as little interaction with the child as possible to let them know that it is time to shut up and go to sleep. You know who this is for? Mum and dad. Not the baby.

How absurd that we think a six month old needs to learn independence.

This is the kind of pap that we are fed. And apparently, it leaves some people so confused and helpless that they worry about spoiling their babies with affection. For once, can we please look around the world at cultures that get it right; cultures that have happy babies and happy mothers? Your baby does not need an Exersaucer and a bouncy chair and Baby Einstein videos and a Sophie – your baby needs you: during the day and at night. It’s tiring and it fucking sucks sometimes but you pretty much sign up for it when you get pregnant.

I wish I had known this before I had my daughter. It would have saved me weeks of unnecessary crying on her part and guilt on mine. To a new or expecting mother I would say: go ahead, sleep with your baby, breastfeed her, hold her all the time and enjoy it. Soon it will be over and you will miss those wonderful baby days. And your child will be so much happier for it.

this is going to be a long one...

2008-12-15T11:05:00.000-05:00

As I heaved my pregnant body out of bed this morning and tried to waddle as quietly as I could out of the room so as not to wake Avery and the husband (yes she still sleeps in our bed – tsk tsk away if you must) the floor groaned underneath me as the weight of the day to come settled itself on my shoulders. As usual, I spend my time in the shower worrying and washing. I go over my to-do list while I blow dry my hair, and by the time I get in the car to head to the office, I feel overwhelmed.

It is silly, because I have a lot to be thankful for and not much to worry about. I just find that things start to get unmanageable at this time of year. I think this all began when my mother called the other day and began telling me how I have never done anything for her and I should be getting more involved in the ongoing divorce saga between her and my father and he is such an evil man and how can I still talk to him…and her psychiatrist thinks that her children should be doing more for her and don’t we understand how sick and depressed she is….blah blah blah. This was all while my daughter screamed and cried in the background for her dinner and husband was just coming in the door from work and my uterus was hardening itself up against the enormous amounts of stress hormones that my body was beginning to pump out as a result of this phone call. I think I am beginning to hate my mother.

This is a fairly usual conversation that my mother and I have. To get into the details and history of the relationship and the circumstances of everything on this blog would be a tremendous undertaking and one that I am not willing to put effort into. Suffice it to say that my mother is wrong and very selfish and I am pregnant, tired, looking after a toddler and truly do not need to put up with her shit anymore.

Next item:

Avery has become very obsessive about dirt. She does not like it on her hands (by dirt I mean food particles, marker, fluff from the carpet…I could go on) and the other day she took a cloth down from the countertop and began wiping the floor with it, grunting away on her hands and knees, saying “dirty, dirty” over and over again. At first, I thought it was really funny and got out the video camera. Then I started to wonder where she would be getting this from. I certainly never get down on my hands and knees to wash the floors. I am definitely not a clean freak either. I can only assume that she is getting it from her daycare provider – my girlfriend who lives next door. This woman has convinced my daughter that dirt, poop and wet socks are horrible things and Avery has absorbed all of this. She has truly become obsessed. Also, she is afraid of feathers (in particular the down feathers that sometimes escape from our duvet) and fluffy things on the carpets. I have to remove the offending feather or “fluffy” from her sight and flush it down the toilet where we stand and say goodbye to it while Avery furrows her brow and asks me 500 times if it is gone yet. Is this normal? I AM NOT encouraging this. I try to make it out like it is not a big deal but she remains upset. I don’t know what to do.

Next item:

Secret (fucking) Santa at work. You draw a name; you spend $20 on a gift for this person. I got the name of a contract employee who I do not know very well and who will be gone in a few months. I have left this to the last minute and now must run out at lunch and get something for Thursday this week. For fucks sake.

Next item:

The potluck, also this Thursday, at our office. I have volunteered to bring potato (fucking) salad. When am I going to make this? Husband is on nights and I have barely enough time to get dinner and bath done with a very demanding toddler at night. I have found a solution: I will buy a giant tub of potato salad from the market after work tonight and add some chives and possibly slices of kosher pickles to make it look authentic.

Next item:

Christmas (fucking) cards. Haven’t even started them. Was informed by husband that I need to get on this because we have received a bunch from some of the Captains and even the Chief of his department so I had better send them one as well. Ugh.

Next item:

Christmas day dinner at my father’s house with his girlfriend’s half-retarded family members, Avery and no husband because he is on day shift. My father asked that we do not do gifts this year, which is fine. He called me the other day to tell me that he hopes I will not be upset but he did get gifts for his girlfriend, her children (22 and 25) and MY OWN BROTHER but the whole “not doing gifts this year” still applies to me.

Next item:

Boxing Day with the in-laws. The only thing that is going to light up this day is the absolutely horrible gift I will be giving to my mother in law, which I still have not put together yet. But I am looking forward to that. As for the rest of it, I can only say that if I were not pregnant, I would be half in the bag by the time they came over to our house.

I think that about does it for now. I am going to muddle through this week and then try to mentally block out the holidays and soon it will all be over!

Fa la la la la.

Last night I had a dream. It scared the shit out of me.

2008-12-05T09:06:00.000-05:00

I’d like to think that I’m not a complete wimp, but my sub-conscious decides to give me a reality check every once in awhile. I guess I thought I was just mildly upset about finding out I had gallstones. And I guess I was more angry than anything else initially about it because it’s one more fucking thing I have to deal with and now I have (almost) two babies to take care of and I can’t afford to be out of commission. Also, going under with anesthetic scares me.

Anyway, last night I dreamt that I was having my c-section. The husband was there and when they took Hayden out, he followed her over to the little “baby cleaning area” to take pictures, leaving me alone on the table. The nurse pulled the blue sheet that obscures ones view of the carnage away and I looked down to find that they had forgotten to stitch me up. Instead, the nurse had just covered the opening into my abdominal cavity with a white towel. At this point, something told me that I didn’t have much time so I called to my husband to bring the baby over to me but he wasn’t listening. It was all very dramatic. When I woke up from the dream, I was very upset. It was about 3am and I didn’t get much sleep after that. I kept worrying about dying and leaving my babies, and gallbladder surgery and anesthetic and infection in the hospital and blah, blah, blah.

I know that everything will be fine. I think that I have reached that point in my life when the realization that none of us are invincible has hit me. I am not invincible. I am meat and chemicals and brain and things can go wrong with those parts. I guess it didn’t bother me before because I didn’t have children who needed me. It’s so strange to feel so necessary and needed. Some days it takes my breath away. Some days I don’t even think about it.

The other night the husband and I were debating whether or not to stop in at a friend’s Christmas Party this weekend. We could drop Avery off next door for a couple of hours and drive the 40 minutes to our friend’s house, have a drink and a quick visit and then leave. We eventually decided that it wasn’t worth it. Then my husband said something that I had totally been thinking but was too afraid to say out loud for fear that he would think I was crazy. He said: “What if we got in a car accident on the way home and both died? You know, there are lots of drunks on the road at this time of year. Who the hell would Avery have if she didn’t have us?”

Holy shit. We are never getting in a car together again. Well, that’s a bit extreme. But obviously, both of us have seriously grown up a hell of a lot. And both of us are deeply connected to and in love with our baby. And it’s nice to know that I’m not the only crazy one in the house. It will be one of those fragile days for me I guess. Like I said, there are days when I do feel invincible still, but more in a determined way, not in an ignorant self-important way. Those are the days when you feel like a lion watching over your pride – you are big and strong and can protect your family from anything that comes along. I like those days the best.

But today, I am a rabbit.

It’s a girl! (And I have gallstones)

2008-12-02T14:00:00.000-05:00

So they tacked on an abdominal ultrasound to my obstetrical one and whaddya know? According to the technician I have “loads of gallstones”. Awesomeness. I will be seeing a surgeon and determining if I can wait until after baby is born to have the surgery. Apparently this is somewhat common during pregnancy.

Anyway, the baby looks great and because there was no penis sighting, the technician is 90% sure it is a girl. We had 100% confirmation with Avery but whatever. A healthy baby is all I ask at this point. Although I was pretty freaking excited about the girl thing. We have a first name (Hayden) and a middle name (Winter) for a girl but no boy names. Husband thinks we should pick a boy name just incase. I like Jakob Kenneth, husband hates it. We cannot agree on any of them. Any suggestions from the 2 people that read this blog are more than welcome.

So that’s the update. I now live in fear of food.

and how was your evening?

2008-11-25T11:31:00.001-05:00

Yesterday, as I was driving home from work, a familiar and horrible pain began in my stomach. Deep down, I knew what it was but I tried to pretend that it would go away by the time I got home. I was wrong. By the time I got in the door, I was doubled over in pain with a toddler clawing at me and a husband threatening to take me to the hospital.

I think I might have gallstones.

This is the second “attack” I have had in two months. Generally, it starts as what feels like massive gas pain in the right side of my stomach, but eventually becomes horrible, crippling pain that spreads to my back and right shoulder as I literally writhe around on the floor for 2 hours or more like a wild animal. Eventually, the pain subsides and I am left weak, pale and pretty fucking irritated with the whole thing. The last time this happened, I assumed it was gas. My husband looked at me when I told him this and told me that “there is no way that gas pain does that to someone”. As a firefighter, he goes to medical calls and he told me he thought I was passing a kidney stone or something. I would compare the pain to labour. Labour at about the time the idiot nurse let my epidural run out while I was in transition and dilated to 10 centimetres. She left the room for 45 minutes. If I ever see that woman again I will hurt her.

Anyway, the pain is that bad. My dad had his gallbladder removed when he was around my age because he had some gallstones. He tells me his attacks were like mine. And apparently, pregnancy can trigger these attacks. Yay. I’m 18 weeks pregnant with a broke-ass gallbladder. I still have not had a diagnosis. I am seeing the doctor next week and I imagine will have to go in for some tests. Maybe they can just take a gander at the old gallbladder when I’m in for my ultrasound on Tuesday.

This could turn out to be something completely different, but I’m thinking my assumption about gallstones might be correct.

I’ll update accordingly.

mish mash

2008-11-10T09:52:00.000-05:00

I’m finding it harder to concentrate at work these days. I can’t seem to motivate myself the way I used to. Perhaps this is because I know that I am not coming back after my maternity leave this time. I’ve flip-flopped on this a couple of times. Some days I realize how lucky I am to have such a great job within a 15 minute commute from my home. I worry that there will not be a position open for me in a few years time should I decide to come back. Technically, and legally, they only have to hold my job for me for a year. I know that they would take me back if something was available when I wanted to come back but there is no guarantee that there will be something and who the hell knows where we will be then anyway.

As much as I like my job, I do feel like it is a waste of time. I leave the house by 730am and I am gone all day until 430pm. I really miss that time with my daughter and she misses me. I sit behind a desk all day while my daughter plays, learns, laughs, bonds with other people (which is important, I know) but I miss a lot.

This morning as I sit here listening to the twit in the cubicle next to me scrape at the bottom of her empty yogurt container as if she hasn’t eaten in months (just buy a bigger yogurt next time), and delete yet another e-mail forward from the crazy cat lady who I now call “silent thunder” because she smells like farts every few minutes without making a sound, I am thankful that I get to stay home with my children. As “productive” as one might feel at work, I still think being home with your kids (and being happy) is the best way to spend time.

The egg is kicking away. Avery is finally weaned and I can say, very proudly, that it was on her schedule, and we took as much time as she needed to do it sensitively and compassionately. At night, instead of nursing her, we curl up in the bed and read a book. Then she snuggles into me and we stare at each other and whisper “night night” about a hundred times while she smiles at me and plays with my hair. Finally she closes her eyes and I feel her body relax and she is asleep. It is heavenly.

I got an OB the other day. She is a woman (yay!) and came highly recommended so I am hoping I’ll like her. She is going to be the person cutting me open after all so I hope I’m comfortable with her. I see her at the end of this month.

That’s it for now. Next time I update will probably be about my BRAND NEW FREAKING DIGITAL CAMERA that I am getting thanks to my husband and eBay. We managed to get it for $500 less than retail. I am finally going to have a decent camera. Things just keep getting better!

A New Era

2008-11-07T09:41:00.001-05:00

In Canada, we have never had a black prime minister. Actually, neither has Great Britain. So in a way, I find it strange for Canadians to congratulate Americans on finally “breaking through the race barrier” or overcoming their racist past. I know much of this has to do with the fact that slavery was deemed acceptable practice for a longer time in the US than it was in Canada, and that to this day race relations in the States remain tumultuous – especially in the Southern states. Canada, while it is a much more liberal country than America, is still guilty of its own racist history and is not free of racism in this present day.

On the other hand, I woke up the day after Barack Obama was elected with a sense of peace I have never felt before. In a way, the world felt, if only temporarily, like a better place. And as I watched the reaction from black Americans as they found out that Obama was the President elect, I couldn’t hold back the tears. Truly it was an amazing thing to witness. After the horrible historic events in the recent history of the US, including 911 and Hurricane Katrina, this was a proud moment for everyone. So I do not regard this historic event as the US finally entering into the new era with the rest of us, because the rest of us have certainly not been this progressive thus far in our own elections…instead I see this as a victory for black Americans who can hopefully feel that finally - after slavery, after the years and years of fighting to be seen as equals, after the horrific aftermath of the hurricane that showed them that they didn’t mater to the rest of the country – they have a voice.

This is also a victory for women, who under McCain’s presidency would be left once again fighting for rights over their own bodies. And I hope that this will also be a victory for healthcare in the US, for the fight against global warming, and that President Obama will end the occupation in Iraq.

Many Canadians have asked me why I had so much interest in this US election. My brother in law says he does not understand, when we only had a 60% (or less) voter turn out for our recent election, how so many of us could have so much passion for American politics. I asked him how he could be so naïve. The impact of the US election will have far greater implications and consequences for us and for the rest of the world than our own will. I think that the election of Obama has sent a signal to the world that the US is ready to start participating. I think Obama represents a smarter, more fair America.

After 8 years of an ignorant, stupid Republican running the show, this really was the change that we all needed. Thank you to all the Americans who voted for Obama. And as for Sarah Palin: go back to Alaska, bitch. And stay there.

on motherhood

2008-11-03T14:37:00.000-05:00

This week, I felt the egg move. I remember feeling Avery move pretty early on too, and I remember being told by my doctor and a few other people that what I was feeling was “just gas”. Of course, they were all wrong.

And you know what? There were a lot of “they’s” who were very wrong about a lot of things concerning pregnancy and birth and being a parent. Wouldn’t it be nice if I could go back in time and tell that to my newly pregnant self? However, I am a stronger girl for it and I feel that because I have stuck by most of my convictions, I have become a pretty good mother. And Avery in turn, is a happy little girl.

My husband and I don’t bother to discuss the specifics of how we raise our children with other people anymore. We found that we encountered a lot of criticism when we did, a lot of “well meant” advice that often times made us feel guilty and like we were doing the wrong thing. And I really don’t think we are so far off the “traditional” path of parenthood, but when you have your baby sleep in the bed with you, carry her in a sling everywhere all day, breastfeed on demand and wean when she is ready, you open yourself up to a lot of comments.

Now that I’m a mother, I cannot imagine trying to give another woman advice about how to take care of her children. Much of the time I think the advice I get from other women is bullshit. And much of the time I realize that, at least in our society, we try to fit out babies into our lives as best we can by scheduling them, getting them distraction toys like Exersaucers to sit in for hours (seriously, my nephew is in one for at least 3 hours a day) while we “get things done”, letting them cry it out so they learn sleep independence, carting them around in strollers and car seats instead of on us in slings, and in some cases, choosing to formula feed for the convenience factor.

As much as I think that all of that stuff is the “wrong way” to parent, I would never dream of criticizing another woman for doing those things. And one would think that given the fact that I have a healthy, happy, smart, loved baby that people would give me credit for the good job I have been doing. Instead they focus on the wrong things and tell me that my baby is manipulating me, or that I need to get her used to being on her own for independence.

I was at a Halloween party last weekend where all the mothers from one of my mom groups all got together with our babies and our husbands as an excuse to dress the kids up and get some cute pictures. For the entire 3 hours that I was there, I noticed that one of the babies, 10 months old, sat in a corner of the room by herself the entire time. Her mum came in, plunked her down, and then off she went to eat and socialize. The baby’s father was there too, but he was ignoring her as well. There were no tears, or even a peep for that matter, in fact both of the parents joked about how easy she was because they could just leave her alone and she didn’t mind. So is this baby independent? Or has she learned that she is not going to get the attention so she has become more inwardly focused? In our group, and in many others, she is deemed a good baby and it is left at that. But this baby rarely smiles when you coo at her and I think that is sad. I know my daughter can be rambunctious and full of energy all day long, which sometimes wears on me, but I am thankful that she is happy, curious and fun-loving as a result of being the centre of my life. Which is the way it should be, in my opinion.

I still take care of myself, I still make time for my husband and get out with friends, but Avery can count on me anytime she needs me. I know that this has made our relationship incredibly strong. How anyone could challenge me on that I don’t understand. I try to keep these things in mind as I prepare to have my second child.

Motherhood is hard enough on us. I think we can all do without the criticism.

the centre cannot hold

2008-10-28T13:51:00.001-04:00

A few weeks ago, the President of the company I work for sent out an e-mail to all the employees to let everyone know that despite the current economic crisis in the US, everything was fine. I immediately called bullshit and when talking to a few of my colleagues, suggested that this is the placating email that goes out before the cuts come. Everyone told me I was being pessimistic. I work for a big company, with many locations worldwide. I guess everyone felt safe up here in Canada but guess what? I was freaking right.

Today is, what I can only imagine, the first of the “restructuring” emails. The handy little euphemism means that the company will be cutting some fat. This time, it’s about 300 people globally. The email downplays this seriousness by reminding us that this is only 1% of worldwide staff. Of course they don’t tell us where they are cutting and which departments are going to go first. Once again, everyone thinks I am being paranoid. I have a feeling this is the beginning of some serious layoffs.

What amazes me is that, even before this email came out, no one seemed to be concerned about the state of the economies – ours or the States. Are the masses too distracted with their bread and circuses? Am I being paranoid?

For now, all I can do is sit and wait. I do think things are going to get a lot worse though. Thankfully the husband has a recession-proof job. I know a lot of people in some pretty bad situations right now.

the egg is official

2008-10-16T13:59:00.000-04:00

We had the ultrasound this morning and to our relief, everything looks fine. There was the egg, bouncing around and kicking up a storm in there, just like Avery was doing in her 12 week ultrasound. I even got pictures this time. (They never offered with Avery’s first ultrasound). So the relief is much needed and has certainly settled my mind.

The next ultrasound is going to be booked for the week of December 1, 2008, and we get to find out the sex at that one. For now, I am going to relax and enjoy the pregnancy.

Today was a good day.

the plastic baby bin

2008-10-09T11:45:00.001-04:00

The other day, the husband and I were discussing our plans for the birth of number #2, or “the egg” as we now call him/her. Since I have to have a c-section again, I know I will be in the hospital for at least 2 nights. Originally, the husband suggested having my father stay over at our house overnight with Avery for those nights so that he could stay with me in the hospital. I realized immediately this would not work as a) Avery sleeps in a bed with us and there is no way in hell my dad would be able to put her down and go sleep somewhere else, and b) my dad is an alcoholic (between the hours of 3pm – bedtime) and I really don’t think that jives with taking care of my daughter.

A funny thing happened to me after I had a baby: I stopped being a total pussy. I waved my husbands suggestions of him staying with me off and told him that he could stay home with Avery and I could manage by myself in the hospital. I really do feel cool about that. When I was in the hospital after having Avery, I was terrified to be alone. Mostly because the surgery seriously restricted my movement, but also because I had a brand new baby and I didn’t know what to do.

This time, I could be abandoned on a desert island and I know I would be just fine. The only thing I have to worry about is being assertive enough with the nurses who insist I keep the new baby in that little plastic bin beside the bed while I sleep. Hell no sister. First of all, the bin is not right beside the bed, secondly, when the baby cries, I will have to page and wait for a nurse to get him/her for me. Fuck that shit yo. I’ll do what I did with Avery – the baby sleeps on me, I prop pillows around us so no one falls out of bed. What other mammal, or even animal for that matter has a baby and then leaves it on the other side of the nest/cave/in some bushes around the corner?

Anyway. I have an ultrasound next Thursday. This is the one that makes me nervous because we are seeing for the first time if everything is okay. I’m sure it is based on the fact that I have been so sick, I am beginning to look 5 months pregnant rather than 3, and I’m totally serious about this: I can feel some tiny little movements in there. Crazy, I know, but true.

We’re going to bring Avery with us so she can see the new baby, not that she’ll really care, but this is more for us than her I guess. My husband wanted all of us to be there because “it should be a family thing.” I think that is really sweet of him.

In other news: I have yet another cold and I am literally dragging myself through the day here at work. I have a feeling I will not be returning after lunch.

Obama Won

2008-10-08T13:09:00.000-04:00

That any news media in the States or anywhere else in the world for that matter could suggest otherwise, is ridiculous. I watched the debate last night, all the way up here in Canada and silently (as I had a sleeping baby on my lap) cheered Obama on and he remained calm, cool and most of all logical as McCain stumbled arthritically around the stage tossing out platitudes and euphemisms from his big bag of ‘the same old bullshit’.

From a strictly esthetic perspective (and don’t say this stuff doesn’t count – you know it does) Obama was the clear winner. The man is handsome (okay maybe I have a slight crush), he wears a suit like nobody’s business, and he makes sitting on one of the awkward chair/stool things look like he’s lounging in a Lazy Boy.

McCain is stodgy like overcooked oatmeal. He was stuffed into his suit like a sausage. When answering questions from the members in the Town Hall, he would scurry up to them like a one-legged man, limping and straining, to awkwardly get in their face and fling an arm absentmindedly towards them as he spoke. Clearly, his old body had a hard time perching on the stool, and instead of looking like he was getting up to keep the blood flowing, his constant up and down made him look nervous, sketchy and self-conscious.

From an intellectual standpoint, both men recycled many of their same material from the first debate, though I did find that Obama was more aggressive – but in a constructive way. Whereas McCain just came off as mean and bitter when trying to nail Obama on some issues. It didn’t help that McCain was bending the truth and outright lying on some of these points either.

Did anyone catch the comment McCain made to the second Town Hall person who asked a question? He actually said to the guy that he probably hadn’t even heard of Fannie Mae or Freddie Mac before the financial crisis happened. WTF? I’m not going to pull the racism card but at the very least this was downright condescending. Obama caught it – he actually smiled and shook his head while the guy who asked the question stared wide-eyed at McCain in an “I can’t believe you just said that to me” kind of way.

And what is with McCain overusing the “my friends” thing when addressing the audience? It was so ham-fisted and transparent I can’t believe he kept using it! It was like Palin repeating the “Joe Six Pack” and “Maverick” shit over and over. Do people actually eat that shit up? Do Americans feel that he is appealing to them this way?

Obama remained in control throughout the debate, effortlessly defending himself from McCain’s paltry attacks, while McCain simply refused to address any criticism directed at him and his policies, choosing instead to repeat the same empty, meaningless crap over and over. He kept saying he has solutions to the financial crisis, to health care, but he never said what they are. What is the big secret?

If I were Obama, I would have said to McCain: “The war in Iraq is one of the biggest mistakes any President of the United States has ever made in office and you supported it. This war did not begin with the Surge as you like to pretend. The Surge is ‘successful’ because it was a band aid solution to a mess that the US created. How many American and Iraqi lives, both military and civilian have been lost because of this blunder? How much money is this country wasting on this war when this money could go towards healthcare, cleaning up the Wall Street mess, fixing Social Security? Wake up McCain, your glory days of war games are over. You are old and out of touch. It’s time to open your eyes to what this country really needs.”

Why can’t Obama say that? Would it matter to McCain supporters? Something tells me that they are pretty firm on their decision to support McCain/Palin. I would have to say I agree with Bill Maher that a large majority of the American population (just like here in Canada) is stupid. And these stupid people want a Joe Six Pack Maverick for President because he will “bomb bomb bomb Iran”, keep Government out of their business (unless you count the Bush doctrine of course. But Palin doesn’t even know what the fuck that is), challenge Roe vs. Wade, implement the teaching of creationism in schools, and continue to do nothing about global warming.

Pretty scary stuff.

Oh, and I almost forgot. Not one mention of Sarah Palin from McCain last night. What gives? He has spent the last 6 weeks of his campaign relying on her star power to fuel his popularity.

I’m really worried that Obama won’t get elected. I think a lot of people are. Let’s just hope that enough of them go out and vote. And that these votes are counted. And let’s hope that the undecided voters in the US can ignore the spin from sources like Fox news and don’t believe the hype when these ‘journalists’ tell them that McCain won last night and is still going strong.

Go Obama!

daycare woes

2008-10-02T08:49:00.000-04:00

Avery cried for me when I dropped her off this morning. My heart shattered. Was I complaining about her not even saying goodbye to me before?

Each morning I pack up her breakfast, lunch and snacks to send her to daycare with. For the last three days I have been giving her yogurt, fruit and a slice of carrot loaf for breakfast. As I have not seen the carrot loaf come back in her bag at night, I guess I assumed she was eating it. So I keep packing it, thinking she really likes it. I casually asked my girlfriend about it this morning. It went something like this:

“She seems to like this carrot loaf. She has been eating it every morning right?” I ask.

“Oh no. She won’t even touch it. I kept trying but she wasn’t interested.” said girlfriend/caregiver.

“…” me. Wondering what the fuck she has been doing with the carrot loaf then. Is she eating it?

Also this morning: every single person in that house has a cold. A cold with a nasty cough. Fucking fantastic. Guess what we’ll all be doing next week? I just love having horrible colds whilst being pregnant and looking after a toddler. Oh yes, and working full time. Awesome.

I hate leaving my daughter and I especially hate leaving her in a house full of sick people. Not only that but since she has been going there on Monday, she has had bad gas and runny poop. Every day. Is it teething? Is my girlfriend sneaking her processed, non-organic crap food?

Tomorrow, thank jeebus, both my husband and I are home. I don’t think I could handle another day of leaving her at daycare. Remind me of this next year when I am home with two of them and complaining about not having any “me” time. Truly the current arrangement sucks more for all of us.

this week sucks

2008-09-30T13:37:00.000-04:00

This is Avery’s first week of full-day daycare. She is only going Monday to Thursday, and she is being looked after by my girlfriend who literally lives next door to my house, but still I worried. On Monday morning I dropped her off and she didn’t even look back at me – just ran into the house to play with my girlfriend’s kids. I was pretty happy about this and felt a little less guilty than usual on my way to work (I feel guilty even if she is home with dad – I feel guilty that I have to leave her period) and then my girlfriend called me after lunch to let me know that she had been able to put Avery down for a nap with no problems.

This is the kid that I have to struggle with in order to get her to sleep. She will not go to sleep without nursing and usually it takes about 20-30 minutes to get her to pass out so I can sneak out of the room. Then I get about an hour of nap time from her.

My girlfriend walked her upstairs, told her it was “night-night” time, then laid her down in the playpen and walked out of the room. Avery went to sleep right away. She slept for two and a half freaking hours. No crying. Nothing. While I am very happy that she loves her daycare and has adjusted so well, part of me was kind of annoyed. What the hell have I been doing wrong? Last weekend, we went over to the house of a mum I met through one of my groups. A bunch of us went and brought the babies. I am the only mother still struggling with sleep issues. All of the other kids are either sleeping right through the night or waking only once. Last night Avery was up 7 times.

At work I hear some of the other mothers of toddlers talking about how well their kids are sleeping.

I know every child is different but I think I am getting pretty burnt out. Being pregnant doesn’t help as I am extra tired and definitely not getting the sleep I need. But come on. 7 times? And that is pretty average. Occasionally we have a few good nights where she will only wake up twice and settle herself, but I could use more of these nights.

Avery cannot wait to go over to my girlfriend’s house. Again, I am happy that she is so happy there but I feel jealous in this weird way. Avery wanders around chanting my girlfriends name and this morning I could barely get her shoes on she was so excited to go over there. I’m starting to feel like kind of a second rate mother. Like maybe Avery is happier over there than with me. When I went to pick her up last night she came over to me, smiling, handed me a toy and then took off again. This might sound ridiculous but I was shattered. I had to coax her to come home with me.

Maybe this is all normal, maybe its pregnancy hormones. Maybe I’m just overtired and overextended. With the husband working days, I’m alone for the morning and evening routines. I have to get all the shit together in the mornings, get myself ready, and get Avery ready by 7:30am. At night, I stop at the store; pick up Avery and then struggle to get everything tidied and dinner made. Then I have to pack lunches and breakfast for the next day.

This is gross, but you know what I realized the other day? I have been wearing the same bra for over 2 weeks. The other ones were washed and left in the laundry room to dry and I haven’t even bothered/found the time to go get a clean one. My hair was last washed 3 days ago and I am wearing yesterday’s leftover makeup. Tonight I have no fucking idea how to make dinner, give Avery a bath and then get myself in the shower all before her “bedtime”. And by bedtime I mean an hour of me trying to get her down.

10 weeks pregnant this Thursday. First ultrasound scheduled for October 16th. Hopefully all is well with “the egg” as my husband and I call the new baby. I find I barely even think about the pregnancy beyond taking my prenatal vitamin every morning.

This is why I am not going back to work for a few years after baby #2. How the hell do people do this 5 days a week every week?

sick sick sick

2008-09-15T11:16:00.002-04:00

8 weeks this Thursday.

I don’t think I was this sick with Avery. I’ve been taking my Diclectin to combat the nausea, but it doesn’t seem to be doing the trick this time. I am having a really hard time eating anything. Breakfast is not so bad, but by lunch time I can’t even stand the thought of eating, let alone the smells from the cafeteria downstairs. Hopefully, this all goes away in the second trimester. I can deal with the tiredness, but feeling sick all the time really sucks.

Avery is doing really well. She’s talking up a storm (I think she can say about 10 words now). I can’t believe how much fun she is now. I am longing for the days (mere months from now) where I can be home with her again.

That’s all for now. Work has been terribly busy and I can’t seem to get everything done. Back to the grind.

week 6

2008-09-04T11:39:00.002-04:00

Oh yes, now I remember.

For a few days, I have been worried because I have not been feeling very pregnant. Then I woke up this morning and the room was spinning. It is close to lunchtime in the office here and the nausea has begun. I can’t even stand the smell of my hand cream. This is exactly what happened last time. I think this is a good sign.

Luckily, I have an appointment with my doctor tonight and I can get some Diclectin, the magical, wonderful anti-nausea pill. I’m going to book my Integrated Prenatal Screening, not because I care about the genetic results so much as it is the only way I can get an ultrasound at 12 weeks. All in all, things are going pretty well. I’m crossing my fingers that I don’t get assigned to the same OB I had last time. Remember him?

So that’s all for now. Work is busy, home life is busy, and I am happy.

Oh yes, and Sarah Palin can suck it. You too McCain. (more ranting on this later)

warning: this post contains swears and egregious misuse of quotation marks

2008-08-28T10:34:00.000-04:00

Our office’s resident people pleaser brought in a batch of her “famous brownies” today. I could smell the Crisco from the parking lot. She walked around from cubicle to cubicle passing them out. I politely took one. I’m not much of a sweet tooth, and besides, this is the last thing my pregnant body wants me to ingest right now. It is T minus 2 hours until the nausea officially begins for the day.

Anyway. As usual all the women in the office went ape shit. What’s really annoying is that before taking a brownie they all have to say: “Oh I really shouldn’t…” or “Maybe just one…”

Ladies, lets not pretend that you don’t stuff your fat faces with hoagies and fries at lunch. All anyone ever does in this freaking office is eat crap. All day long. The majority of people in this office look like the customers in an American Cosco. By this I mean, morbidly obese.

I hate the fact that women have to preface eating by uttering these meaningless, shallow and totally bullshit lines. As I stuffed some of the trans fat-laden brownie into my face, one of the publishers walked by.

“Oh those must be good, everyone is eating them!”

I nodded and widened my eyes in an “Oh you know it sister!” kind of a way. I hate when I do that. I am being totally sarcastic but totally pandering to the idiocy at the same time.

“Good thing bathing suit season is almost over!” she laughed.

This is one of those moments when I want to do one of two things:

Laugh maniacally until she feels stupid for saying such a clichéd and unfunny thing, or, roll my eyes and say “Oh my god, just get over it already. Eat your fucking brownie and shut up.”

Instead I “laugh” along with her and hate myself a little.

Bathing suit season. Go fuck yourself. I have an IQ over 85. I don’t bother myself with such trivial matters.

This morning the Husband was telling me that one of the guys at work was complaining because his wife spent hundreds of dollars on some new bras. He told the guys how he “freaked out” when she told him - that is until he saw her in the bras. He went on to talk about how breastfeeding their 2 children had ruined his wife’s breasts. How they used to be like the breasts of a teenager. But these new bras made them look great. ‘Buy more!’ he told her.

What a fucking asshole. Can you imagine his wife finding out that her husband was standing around telling a bunch of firefighters how bad her tits were? She carried, birthed and nursed your DAUGHTERS you fucktard. DAUGHTERS that you are going to turn into bulimic little self-obsessed twats because of your retarded attitude about women. I hope your dick rots off.

Ahh, that was cathartic.

Now back to my brownie.

good news

2008-08-27T09:39:00.001-04:00

I can’t keep this to myself. And I do not keep a diary, so this blog is where it all goes down. For those of you who have me as a friend on the vile Facebook network, please do not make comments about this on my wall, or anywhere else for that matter, as I have people from work as Facebook “friends”.

Yep, I’m pregnant. Roughly 5 weeks along. I found out this morning. I woke up with the same funny feeling I had when I was pregnant with Avery and I thought to myself: There is no way. The reason I thought this is because my last 2 periods have been over a week late and I had resigned myself to the fact that it was going to take a long time to get pregnant because of my irregular cycles. Also, my husband and I literally had sex only once this month. Once. I know, I know, that’s all it takes sometimes. But come on. We tried to be more active on the baby making front, but me going back to work really made everything chaotic. When he wasn’t at work and we were both home together, we were either too tired or Avery was awake.

Once.

I had a really strange dream last night and when I opened my eyes this morning I just knew. I put on some cartoons for Avery, left her snuggled in the bed and got out the pregnancy test. The plus sign showed up right away. Like, as I was peeing. So I put the test in a little Ziploc bag and left it on the dresser. The Husband was on nights last night so Avery watched cartoons and I got ready for work while we waited for daddy. When he got home I got Avery to hand him the bag.

“No way” he said.

“Yep”

“But when?” he was clearly as surprised as me.

“Remember the Saturday before I went back to work?”

“Holy shit”.

Of course, he is thrilled. I am thrilled. I’m not going to worry about bad stuff or anything. I’m just going to enjoy this. Bring on the morning sickness! Bring on the exhaustion! I can take it! Or maybe I have just completely forgotten about what pregnancy does to me. Either way, I could not be happier.

a snapshot of family life

2008-08-20T10:35:00.001-04:00

Each time I pick up the camcorder to record something Avery is doing, and husband is not in the room, I call out “I’m recording!” and then procede with my filming. So at the beginning of every single one of our home movies, you will hear me yelling out this warning. Every single one. I call it a warning because this is exactly what it is. I am trying to preserve our precious memories in such a way that they are free from ‘daily occurrences’ in our house that might either, a)embarrass us in the future when we are watching these videos, or b) render them completely unwatchable due to any one or even all of the following:

Language peppered with the word “fuck” in its various and varied forms.

Brief nudity (usually this occurs when husband come out of the kitchen to offer me a taste of what he is preparing for dinner and either has his pants pulled down to display his ass when he walks away, or the other form which involves the front of his pants and a zipper. I won’t go into this one, suffice it to say that these happen regularly enough to warrant my concern over them showing up on video).

Mother-in-law insults. Example: On one of our Christmas videos, I say “Sounds like what your mother does every night” in response to my husband instructing me to “put some alcohol (rubbing alcohol) on it” in reference to the cleaning and disinfecting of Avery’s high chair.

Our wrong and sometimes wholly inappropriate way of joking around with each other.

Arguments, name calling etc.

As careful as I am with this one part of our private lives, it did not stop me last evening from walking out onto the back patio, with baby in arms, while telling husband that I thought he was “a dick” and that I was “sick of listening to his shit” to the auditory delight of all of our neighbors who were outside barbequing their dinners.

Classy.

poo

2008-08-11T09:51:00.000-04:00

Well, I must admit that returning to work has gone exceptionally well. And I’m going to be honest: I am enjoying being cloistered away in a little office, free of interruption (other than occasional office fucktard who comes to complain to me about some nonsense or to ask me how my weekend was) drinking my Starbucks – sorry – FINISHING my Starbucks while it is still warm. Oh the Googling I have been doing! You see, when you come back after maternity leave, in an office comprised of 90% women, everyone leaves you alone to “get adjusted”. I have nothing to do. This is heaven.

Mind you it’s not all roses. Avery is still waking up MANY times overnight. She has got to be the worst sleeper in the history of sleepers. Yesterday she had a 25 minute nap and then was up being her usual spastic self for the rest of the day until I finally wrestled her to sleep at 8pm, only to have her wake up half an hour later so that I had to spend another 20 minutes putting her back down. When I came out of the room, husband was beckoning me to the living room with a glass of red wine and an interesting documentary on the TV. As I crept quietly towards him I must have stepped on 18 strategically placed toys. I say strategically placed because I am convinced that she leaves these toys on the ground in the exact path we take to put her to bed. I picture her methodically dropping them as we carry her off to the bedroom as if leaving a path of stones behind her to mark her trail in the woods, knowing that mum and daddy will wake her up when they slip and fall or kick some noisy toy and start it singing and then she will be able to come out and play again. I managed to escape this fate last night. This is not usually the case.

At least she has started walking a bit by herself now, which makes life more interesting for her and helps us get more of her energy out. We have also taught her to say “poo” and then make the requisite grunting noises which accompany the process. Because we use cloth diapers, we have to dump her poop into the toilet. One day, when she was doing her usual screaming and writhing around on the change table, I decided to distract her by showing her what had just come out of her bum.

“Look,” I said. “Poo!”

I repeated this a couple of times until she finally said it. Then we cleaned her up, marched into the bathroom, and flushed to poop down the toilet while Avery yelled “BYE!” over and over. Now she tells us right before she goes (most of the time) which is fucking amazing, I think. Then she bears down and it is one of the cutest things I have ever seen.

On Saturday, the husband and I were at a hardware store. I was keeping Avery distracted by walking around with her while husband went to get something. We turned the corner where there was a bathroom on display. Avery tightened her grip on my hand and then started RUNNING towards the toilet screaming “BYE! BYE! BYE!”

It took us ten minutes to get her away from it.

I hope this means that the toilet training will go smoothly.

work bullshit

2008-08-07T13:21:00.003-04:00

I was recently turned on to the website http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/ (thanks The Mommeh) which is hilarious and has totally opened my eyes to the world of passive aggressive note-leaving right here in my very own office. I just noticed one of these notes when I went to get a tea from the coffee station around the corner from my office in one of the halls. I would have taken a picture but my stupid piece of shit digital camera just broke, and I’m super old school so my cell does not have picture taking abilities. Instead, here is what the note (posted on the microwave door) says:

THINK BEFORE YOU ZAP!

Are you about to microwave something with a pungent odour? (i.e. popcorn) Then please take it down to the cafeteria. The smell permeates our office and makes some people sick. Thanks.

HR

I think I’m going to start a new series of blog entries related to the complete retardedness of my workplace. Was this note written by someone in HR? I doubt it. I have my suspicions that a certain woman in the sales department had something to do with this. Last year, before I went on maternity leave, she accused me of spraying perfume in my office and told me that she is allergic to “smells”. I did not spray perfume. I gave some of my body spray to my buddy Kris in the office next to me so that he could cover up the smell of our resident IT guy who smells like earth and ass mixed together. IT guy was in Kris’ office for a meeting and he was so sickened by the smell, he wanted to cover it up with some Body Shop Vanilla Body Spray. 1 spritz later and this woman marched over to my office to tell me about her “allergy” and that there is an office policy against wearing perfumes. (There is not) So please stop spraying your perfume. I took the fall for Kris.

She is totally the kind of person who would put up that sign and sign HR to it just to make it look official. No one has taken it down though. She even laminated it.

Also? I don’t want to hear about disputes over vacation days or paycheques anymore. I don’t care what issues you are having with the company. I’m cool with my job; my job is cool with me. If you’re having problems with the company, don’t come in to my office to talk to me about it. I don’t care.

A certain someone is still talking about her “princess cut” engagement ring today.

A bunch of women went to get ice cream at lunch and then came back talking about how “bad” they were for eating and how they were going to be “on a sugar high” all afternoon.

For fucks sake.

oh gosh...

2008-08-06T15:50:00.001-04:00

my boobs are going to explode.

seriously.

is this normal? they are like rocks.

rocks full of milk.

ugh.

the size of watermelons

2008-08-06T12:44:00.000-04:00

Today is my second day back at work from my maternity leave. Yesterday, if you can believe it, I was too busy to post. Instead of a long, weepy post about how much I miss Avery (and I do, in such a horrible, soul-draining way), I’m going to try to be a bit more upbeat.

Let’s start with the title of this post.

1. I have not stopped breastfeeding Avery. She was fine yesterday as she mostly eats solids all day anyway. I had no idea that missing one or two small feedings (or what I thought were small feedings) in a day would result in giant porno boobs. When I got home last night she nursed for like 20 minutes, just on one boob, while the other one leaked. Luckily, she nursed a few times last night and the engorgement went down on both sides. The problem now is that my tits appear to be confused and just keep producing. All day and all night. I just went to the washroom here and caught the side profile of myself in the mirror. The size of my breasts is ridiculous…so much so that I am actually feeling a little self-conscious about it.

2. Speaking of the mirror in the washroom here – my ass looks fantastic. Really. I put on my favourite black work pants this morning and I have to admit, things are looking pretty good.

3. Holy shit, my job is boring. I totally forgot about that while I was away.

4. I am already sick of the mindless, soul-sucking, eye-rollingly annoying, vapid conversations the women around here have with each other. I don’t care if the dress you are wearing to the party is “Bordeaux” coloured, or that the engagement ring your douche bag fiancé gave you is a “princess cut”. Please stop interrupting me while I am trying to get caught up on very important celebrity news on Perez Hilton.com

5. Hello again Internet. I’m back and I am going to enjoy hours of mindless Googling, uninterrupted by a whining 1 year old.

6. No one cool or interesting sits near me anymore.

7. I hope I get pregnant this month.

back off

2008-07-27T13:40:00.006-04:00

My mother and I do not have a close relationship anymore. Mostly this has to do with her bouts of depression, resulting in little communication between the two of us. My mother lives about 30 minutes away from me, but I can count the number of times she has come to see Avery on one hand. We do speak on the phone, fairly infrequently, though she has been calling more often as of late, and has told me that she regrets the way she has pulled away from me and the rest of the family, and that she would like to make it up.

Fine. Live and let live I always say. I am too tired to hold grudges and more family feuding does not interest me.

This post is not about the relationship that I have with my mother, nor is it about her depression. I am prefacing this entry with this background information to highlight how ridiculous it is when people who participate very little in your day to day life as a parent still feel it is appropriate and even warranted to comment on or critique the style of parenting you have adapted.

So my mother and I have been speaking over the phone more and more. Last night, she starts in on my sleeping arrangements here. Avery still sleeps in our bed. I still nurse her at night if she wakes up. Because Avery is still battling constipation (ultrasound results on abdomen expected next week) she often wakes up in pain, so I nurse her back to sleep. It takes maximum 5 minutes. Yes, sometimes I am very tired if she wakes up 4 or 5 times a night, but I deal with it, and I will continue to nurse her and sleep with her.

Since day one, everyone has told us how they do not agree with us sleeping with our baby. Most people have backed off, but my mother still talks about it. Last night, she told me to check out the website of a psychotherapist she saw on TV. This woman deals with children and family issues, though from a scan of her bio, it looks like she does not even have children of her own, but I digress.

This woman advocates the "cry it out" method. Put your kid in a crib in another room, and if they cry and won't go to sleep, don't go in to them for 10-15 minutes. When you do go in to them, comfort them only verbally, never touch them. Then go back out again. Repeat. She even had a section on the "cry it out" method and vomiting. You know, baby cries so hard they throw up? She feels that "a little vomit never hurt anyone". Simply clean up the vomit without too much interaction with the baby and leave the room.

Holy shit. I could go on about this but I won't. Obviously I disagree with this method.

The fact that my mother is still trying to sell me on this shit is maddening. I don't understand why she cannot just support us and our choices.

And its not just her. My next door neighbour has asked me many times why I sleep with my baby, why I still sit in the back seat of the car with her if husband is driving, etc. I am so tired of having these conversations with people. It is called Attachment Parenting. It is not for everyone. I do not criticize anyone else's parenting style (at least not to their faces. The husband and I can be gossipy to each other sometimes) LEAVE ME ALONE. Avery is happy and loved.

This lack of support, especially from family, has caused me to question the way I mother Avery many times and that is not right. Motherhood and fatherhood are stressful enough. People who are working hard at being loving, good parents should be applauded, not lampooned or criticized.

So I have decided, no more Mr. Nice Guy. I will not graciously disagree and try to change the subject anymore. I am going to tell people how I really feel from now on. Call me a hippy, tell me I'm spoiling my child, laugh at us for not eating meat and call us ridiculous for trying to get pesticides banned in our neighbourhood.

Bring it on motherfuckers.

from the depths...blah, blah, blah

2008-07-26T14:29:00.004-04:00

I did intend on posting on Avery's 1st birthday (July 15th), but everyone in the house was sick. I did write her a really nice letter which I may post if I get time. For now, enjoy the picture. I am battling menstrual cramps and a flooded basement (2nd thunderstorm of the day) and husband is at work.

More later.

some complaining

2008-07-13T12:19:00.004-04:00

As I type this, I have a tissue jammed up my nose. No longer do I bother constantly wiping my nose that has not stopped dripping for three days; now I just jam tissues up there until they are no longer absorbent, then replace them with a new one. My husband finds this disgusting. I can't blame him, but I am now on my THIRD FUCKING COLD of this summer and I have fucking had it.

Also? I am going back to work on August 5th and I still haven't weaned my baby. She still suffers from constipation, is rarely interested in real, solid foods, and still wakes up 5-6 times a night.

My hair is still falling out in big clumps and my nails keep breaking off (toenails included). I am exhausted.

Some days I feel like I'm doing it all wrong. Other days, I realize that we have not had any help from any of our family members and my husband and I have yet to have one night out together alone. People kept telling me that it would get easier, and in some ways it has, but I think that not getting a good night's sleep in about a year is taking a toll on me.

One more complaint: summer sucks here. We can't have one nice sunny, warm breezy day. It's like the fucking Mekong Delta out there with the humidity. Every day.

That is all.

Hippy Chick

2008-07-07T13:02:00.005-04:00

Forgive me for not writing very regularly. You see, as well as caring for Avery, who is about as much work as a set of sextuplets on crack, I have been slowly turning into a paranoid, establishment hating, vegan food loving, cloth diaper using hippie.

It all started when the husband and I read Michael Pollan's "The Omnivore's Dilemma". Which is fascinating and terrifying and life-changing to read. Then, bit by bit, we started changing how we live.

We stopped eating meat
We stopped eating processed foods (except for the occasional take away pizza)
Goodbye disposable diapers and wipes. Hello cloth and tea tree oil.
We started buying only organic produce for us and making Avery's food with only organic produce.
We dug up the backyard and planted a giant vegetable garden. Fresh food in the summer, canned and preserved in the winter.
No more pesticides or herbicides.
We bought 2 rain barrels.
We had an environmental assessment done on our house.
We bought a tankless hot water heater.
We got new windows.
We put up a clothing line in the backyard.
We bought a reverse-osmosis water treatment filter for the house.
We tossed out all of Avery's baby shampoos, lotions and diaper rash creams and bought all natural ones with no harmful chemicals in them.
We planted some trees: 2 apple, 1 peach, and another maple tree.
I stopped shaving my armpits. No, just kidding. Although I must say that I'm not as good at keeping up with things like that these days.

So, we've been pretty busy. And the amazing thing is, I am so used to living this way now that I can't imagine going back to the old way of life. Next step: wait for the housing market to crash and buy a farm.

Seriously.

And I am totally going to have my own donkey.

eggs and other babies

2008-06-11T13:38:00.005-04:00

Avery used to be an egg. I'm not talking ovum egg, I'm talking newborn egg. You know when the baby is just sleeping, eating, pooping and generally staring off in to space the rest of the time? Yeah, that lasted about 2 months with Avy and then she discovered the world around her and has been on the go since.

When Avery was 6 months old, I finally decided (ie: was told by husband that I had turned into a hermit and should probably make an attempt at leaving the house with the baby) to join a mom and baby group. Many of the babies there were Avery's age or a bit older, and none of them were sitting up or interacting much, not the way Avery was anyway. In fact, they all pretty much spent the entire group meeting drooling or snoozing away in their car seats. At 6 months, Avery had outgrown the infant car seat and had moved on up to the next model, which meant no more carrying her around in the car seat, I either carried her in my arms or used a stroller. Since it was winter and said stroller was a piece of crap and impossible to maneuver through the snow, I carried her.

After the group ended, we all stayed in touch and started going for weekly walks followed by coffee. Avery would last about 20 minutes in the stroller and then get bored, and then start crying. I would have to spend the rest of the walk with her in a baby carrier on me, pushing the stroller with one hand while each vertebra in my spine slowly collapsed onto the next. By the time we got to the cafe, I was sweaty and temporarily crippled. I would then spend the hour in the cafe trying to keep Avery entertained as she squirmed around on my lap. Lets just say I didn't really get any "adult conversation" in.

Fast forward to today. For the first time in weeks, I met another mum in this cafe today. Her baby is 10 days younger than Avery and I figured she would be just as much of a spaz, according to how much this mum complained about her over-active baby. I was wrong. This kid is not crawling yet and was more than happy to sit like a good little egg in the stroller while I sweated and huffed and chased after my little darling. I am not doing coffee anymore.

The problem is that none of the mothers I have met since birthing my hyper little daughter have a baby as active as mine, and none of them are interested in doing a "playdate" at someones baby-proofed house, rather than a coffee shop.

I'm not jealous. Well, okay maybe a little. I do wish I had a baby that slept more than 2 hour stretches at night and who would nap more than an hour a day. I don't wish for an egg though. When I see how social and happy Avery is, how she interacts with other people and babies, points at her toes when I ask her where they are and wraps her arms around my neck to give me a hug, I feel so lucky.

And then today I discovered Sesame Street. For a full hour I (somewhat guiltily) watched as Avery became mesmerized by Elmo. She laughed out loud several times and clapped her hands and wiggled around when music came on. I was able to go to the bathroom, wash my face and apply make-up without having to entertain her the whole time. It was bliss.

Thank you PBS.

back to work on two fronts

2008-06-09T11:35:00.003-04:00

I've been feeling much better these last few days. I think I was going through one of my "funks", brought on by my anxiety about leaving Avery and going back to work. The husband and I have had some pretty in-depth conversations since then about my mood and my feelings, and he has made me feel better. We have also decided to start trying for baby #2 right away. Are we nuts? Maybe. But talking about another baby and knowing that once I am home with 2 kids, I will be staying home for a couple of years has given me this enormous sense of peace. I just want to look after my babies for a few years and I know lots of women do not get that opportunity. I am very lucky for that.

I finally got off my ass and went to the hair salon. Wow. I feel a million times better about my appearance now. I had really let myself go there for awhile. After I had my hair done I went out and bought some skirts and dresses and t-shirts for summer. While I was trying them on I really did like what I was seeing. Having a few hours to be off by myself felt good too.

So back to work at the end of July, and back to work on the baby front starting yesterday afternoon. And I am trying to work on being positive and taking care of myself every day, instead of waiting until I am on the verge of a breakdown.

confession

2008-05-24T12:05:00.004-04:00

Okay, so maybe I'm not feeling as well as I thought I was.

I have really been trying to think positively about things and to take better care of myself (ie. stop cutting a few centimetres off of my hair before each shower and go to the fucking hairdresser already), but I seem to be having a hard time doing either. I feel really overwhelmed these days. Avery is taking a long time to recover from the chronic constipation, and as a result, is not eating very much in the way of solid foods and is still breastfeeding before each nap and 3-4 times a night when she wakes up from the gas pains. I'm exhausted. Every night after her 3am wake-up, I cannot fall back asleep until at least 5am- ish. My thoughts start racing and the anxiety comes creeping back in. Mostly I am DREADING going back to work and leaving Avery. The thought of having to wean her and get her to start napping without the boob before I go back seems like such a monstrous task that it tires me out even to think about it.

If I complain to the husband that I am overwhelmed I get the same response each time. He either says "This is your job (stay at home mum), can't you handle it?" or suggests that maybe we shouldn't have any more babies if it is so hard on me. I don't even want to complain to him anymore. I love Avery and she makes me happier than anything. Motherhood is not the problem.

I don't know what to do to feel better. I don't feel like changing out of the yoga pants and trying to dress myself up once in awhile because I really don't like how I look anymore.

If there was some way for me to stay home with Avery and make some money I would jump at the chance. Is it like this for all mothers?

Anyway, I'm at a loss for anymore words on this subject. Perhaps things will start to get better soon.

shit

2008-05-21T16:45:00.004-04:00

When I first got the stool softener for Avery I thought: this should be no problem giving this to her. It is an orange flavoured syrup to be administered orally via a little plunger thingy. Two teaspoons twice a day, to be increased as is tolerated up to a maximum of two tablespoons twice a day.

I started this stuff 2 weeks ago. We made it one week and got up to the maximum dosage before Avery decided that she no longer wanted to consume this insipid orangey shit and refused to drink it, even if I "concealed" it in another liquid. I can imagine that breastmilk and insipid orange flavoured shit don't mix well. Also, Avery is not a fan of many other liquids. She does like water, but will not drink it with the orange stuff in it.

Ugh.

Since she started this stuff, she has had a few big poops, nothing I would call monumental, and is still waking up 4-5 times a night with gas pain whereupon I must nurse her back to sleep. Both of us are exhausted. Now she isn't getting her stool softener so she has not pooped in two days. Tomorrow we see the pediatrician again where I will have to explain to him that perhaps having a medicine that needs to be administered in this fashion twice a day for 6-8 months is not the best option for a 10 month old. I will also have to try not to get teary in the office, which is no guarantee as I am incredibly sleep deprived with a baby that is always hurting and I have to wean her and get her on solid fucking food in time for me to go back to work in July.

Again I say ugh.

Happy Mother's Day

2008-05-09T11:03:00.002-04:00

To my beautiful, happy, smart, wonderful, snuggly little bean girl: I am so lucky to be your mummy. I love you kitten. xoxoxoxoxoxo

backlog

2008-05-06T17:33:00.003-04:00

We saw our pediatrician today, who had the results of the x-ray on Avery. It turns out Avery has a HUGE blockage of poop in her colon. I was in tears. How long has she been suffering with this? How many times did I go to our stupid family doctor only to be told that it was normal constipation from solid foods? I am ALWAYS going to listen to my momtuition from now on and not take any shit from doctors. Pardon the pun.

Avery is now taking a stool softener/laxative to "gently" coerce the lump out of her poor little body. I expect I will have a new baby in a week or two. For now, I am on poop watch. This could get messy.

making it all worthwhile...

2008-05-04T10:06:00.004-04:00

The other night the husband and I were sitting on the floor, watching TV and playing with Avery. My husband had Avery on his lap and they were looking at one of her books. At one point I glanced over at them and saw my husband nuzzling the back of Avery's neck with his nose. It was the sweetest thing I have ever seen.

Having a baby with my husband has made me fall in love with him all over again. Although I would never admit this to him cause I'm such a hard ass. Though having Avery has made things stressful at times and put a strain on our marriage some days, watching my husband hold her and care for her is like an aphrodisiac.

Makes me want to have another baby. Almost.

title

2008-05-02T12:04:00.003-04:00

Yes, I have changed the title of my blog. Partly because I will be 30 at the end of this year, so continuing to call this blog 20 something will be like lying about my age, and I'm not down with that. Also, I was inspired by the new windows we had installed in our house, which resulted in me having to haul ass to Ikea and get new curtains, which I then had to wash and promptly iron. This really sucked. It is still not done because Avery is quite a handful and won't let me get anything done. I then realized how pathetic the quest for the perfectly clean house is, and how ironing giant ten story high linen curtains fills me with rage.

Hope you enjoy the new title.

holy shit

2008-04-28T16:20:00.003-04:00

Avery has been sleeping since 2pm. It is now 4:21pm. She has been taking one 2 hour nap EVERY DAY for the past 2 weeks.

I have probably just jinxed the naps by writing this.

self-esteem

2008-04-17T15:50:00.004-04:00

Today is the first really warm sunny day in the last however many months. We had a long, cold, stormy winter and when I woke up this morning I thought to myself: shave legs (lower half at least), find capri pants from last year, put them on and take Avery outside for a nice long walk.

When Avery went down for her morning nap I grabbed my electric razor only to find that the battery was dead. Then I realized that my charger was missing, most likely lost in a pile in the spare bedroom/office/garbage dump. I recalled asking the husband if he had seen it around last week and he said he wouldn't have remembered something like that. Translation: he was attempting to clean up the spare room and threw my charger in the garbage. He did this a few weeks ago with my hair roller holders. I still have the hot rollers, but I have nothing to hold them in my hair <>.

I decided to use a regular razor and, because I can't run the shower in the upstairs bathroom while Avery is sleeping because it sounds like a jet engine taking off, I dry-shaved. Not only did I miss a number of very long hairs, I caused my skin to break out in a rash.

When I went to try on last summer's wardrobe (and by this I mean the large-sized Old Navy capri yoga pants I bought so I could stretch them over my massive pregnant belly) I realized that I was looking pretty sloppy. And I have nothing else to wear, and oh yeah, I hate my body and I feel like a fat slob.

Because husband is on days this week, it is very hard for me to fit in a shower. Can't do it during Avery's nap time (jet engine), and my child will not allow me to leave her in a playpen to watch a baby video and play by herself so that I can clean myself when she is awake.

So now I am fat, sloppy and greasy-haired. Oh, and my eyebrows haven't been plucked in like, 3 months. I stood in front of the mirror and thought to myself: holy shit, how long have you been allowing yourself to leave the house like this?

I actually felt like crying.

And then I went to the bathroom and found that my period had started. And I am out of tampons and now I really do have to leave the fucking house looking like this.

I stepped outside my front door and was greeted by the sight of a new neighbour, all 300 plus pounds of her, standing on her driveway with a smoke hanging out of her mouth while she yelled at her kids to get off of the other neighbour's lawn. She was braless, and covering her corpulent waist and breasts that hung like burlap sacks full of half-filled water balloons, was a t-shirt that read: This is WHY I'm Hot.

And you know what? I still feel like crap about myself. What the hell is wrong with me?

bad mommy

2008-04-16T09:44:00.007-04:00

Avery has decided not to poop. Well, technically it has only been 3 days, but the kid is not comfortable. We start out each day just fine but everyday for the last 3 days around 9am, Avery starts to grunt and then the grunting turns to crying and then the crying turns to wailing.

My baby never used to wail. Ever. She hardly ever cries.

This usually stops when I drug her with Tylenol (for the horrible teething that has been non-stop since she was three months old...and holy shit, she is getting a molar) and stick her on my boob until she passes out. My daughter is nine months old and still subsists mainly on breastmilk. I started solids when she was six months old by going the traditional route: rice cereal mixed with breastmilk, bananas, etc. EVERYTHING was organic and I even kept a food diary of what she ate and when, how she liked it, and what her poo looked like. She was constipated for awhile but my doctor assured me that it was totally normal and to keep pressing on. We bought the freshest organic produce and blended and froze and served her the best food we could....then she got diarrhea. I went to the doctor and was told again not to worry and that I probably gave her too much fruit or something. Meanwhile, my momtuition was telling me that something else was going on. However, I left the office like a good little patient and continued to feed Avery solids.

After another week of her waking through the night 4 or 5 times with gas pain that she could not pass, I went back to the doctor. She told me to stop feeding all solids for a few days, just nurse her, and then start from scratch to eliminate what could be irritating Avery so much. This time I told her I wanted to see a specialist or a pediatrician. We were referred. This was March 31 and my appointment with the pediatrician is not until April 22. I started all over again with the food and found, once again, that EVERYTHING bothers her.

For the last couple of days I have been giving her prunes and lots of water to drink (in a bisphenol A laced sippy cup as I recently found out) and still no poop. The husband and I have given up on the pureed baby food and have been giving her little bits of whatever we are eating at each meal instead. I am still recording what she gets, and I am still giving her solids because at 9 months old and 26 lbs, my boobs are not enough.

I am so frustrated and I feel so guilty that she is suffering. Most of the day she is happy and playful and up until the last 3 days she seemed to be doing better. None of the mums in my baby group have had this problem. Their kids all pound down the solids. I keep thinking that I did something wrong. I really hope the pediatrician will be able to help her.

So much for giving her the best start in life with the breastfeeding and organic foods.

8 months old

2008-03-28T13:58:00.002-04:00

where do I even begin?

2008-03-20T11:57:00.004-04:00

Yeah, I realize the last real post was from December. I laugh at myself now when I look back to the pregnant me who thought maternity leave would be like a year-long vacation and I would have time to write, both in this blog and elsewhere. HA!

Avery is now 8 months old. I can't believe how fast the time has gone by. I'll have to post a picture next time because our broke-ass desktop computer caught a nasty virus and I am working off of an even broker-ass laptop that does not have any pictures stored on it. I digress.

Where are we at 8 months? My big little girl weighs a whopping 24 pounds (yes that is all breastmilk and the odd bit of solids now and then - go boobies!) and has 5 teeth. She is just starting to crawl now and is still the happiest baby I have ever met. She is pretty hyper so I have joined a few mom groups to get us out of the house. These have spawned a few friendships and I am now one of those mothers you see lurking at cafes bugging the underpaid teenage staff behind the counter for a cup of hot water to heat up a "buh-buh". I used to hate those women. And now I am one of them. Funny how life works out.

I think I have overcome all the post-partum, post-post partum depression bullshit. Getting out each day certainly helps. My sex life is in the dumps because Avery is not the best sleeper. It is bad enough for me but I'm sure the husband is not too impressed either. He does his best not to complain though and I love him for it. We sneak in quickies when we can, usually to the romantic buzzing sounds of a baby monitor.

I'm not looking forward to going back to work at the end of July. I am really going to miss being at home with my boobah. Luckily, my girlfriend who lives right next door has agreed to look after Avery when I go back so that will make it easier. I do like my job as well and I'm sure it will be nice to get back into grownup land again.

Avery is still sleeping in our bed which gives us the advantage of sleeping in until 9am every morning. She wakes up at 7:30am, I stick a boob in her mouth and we all go back to sleep. I'm slowly trying to wean but the thought of completely stopping the breastfeeding breaks my heart so I'm going to nurse her at night only when I go back to work. Also, shes not too keen on the solid foods right now and has disgusting green mucky poop when she eats them.

This is the best I could do for now. I hate to spend her entire short nap just doing this. I've got 8 months worth of magazines to read!

Will post again soon. (I promise this time...though I'm pretty sure I have a very small audience. Hi Teh Mommeh!)

from the frontlines...

2008-03-05T11:07:00.000-05:00

I'm still here!

Will be updating soon....

5 months

2007-12-15T11:22:00.000-05:00

Dear Avery,

Today you are 5 months old. I officially love you more than anything in this universe. Now, this isn't a new thing, but for the past five months I have been telling you that I love you more than anything in this world...but I'm going to have to go further and say universe.

Your dad and I have been putting you on your tummy on the ground and cheering you on as you grunt and drool and wiggle yourself across the floor in a dramatic attempt at crawling. It looks like hard work and I have to steel myself against your frustrated grunts and let you try before I sweep you up into my arms again. You are also "walking" when your dad and I hold you up. You're pretty sturdy on your feet. Sometimes I think you are just going to forget crawling altogether and just start walking.

Last week, after many weeks of drooling and suffering, two bottom teeth burst through your gums. They are the cutest and sharpest little teeth I have ever seen. How do I know how sharp they are? You like to bite my nipples when you are eating. I'm hoping its just a phase.

You are also very big and very strong. The doctor is pretty impressed with you. You are already 20 pounds and 28 inches long/tall. Of course you have always been off the charts, ever since your first checkup when we were amazed that you were gaining weight so quickly. You were holding your head up at one month old, and bouncing away happily in the Jolly Jumper by two months. People always think you are 8 or 9 months old when they see you. I must have steroids in my breast milk.

Daddy and I have adapted the "attachment parenting" philosophy. We have finally admitted that we are not going to kick you out of our bed anytime soon. Having you sleep with us has been one of the best things about having you. You are the happiest little baby in the mornings. When you wake up (around 8am thank you very much!) I move you over in to the middle of the bed so daddy can give you a back rub. You laugh and smile and fart and we all lie there letting the house warm up before getting out of bed. It is wonderful.

One of the best things about you is your laugh. You first laughed on October 10. I remember it because I was waiting for it. Since then, you laugh at almost everything daddy does. He likes to lay you down on your back and make farting noises on your tummy. You eat it up.

Oh, and you are babbling away like crazy now. You are an absolute DREAM to take out. You never cry or fuss when we go shopping with you. Daddy and I took you to our favourite Mexican restaurant the other night and you were so good. The waitress held you for awhile so I could eat and you didn't even make a peep the whole time. The only thing you don't like is the carseat, but I can't blame you for that. I would hate to be restrained in a boring old car too. You're usually okay now because I've started sitting in the back with you again.

So what else can I say except that daddy and I are in love with you and cannot imagine how we lived before you. We feel like we spent our entire lives waiting for you and finally we get to have you. When I look at your feet it makes me feel like crying sometimes because they are so cute and fat and I wish sometimes that you could stay this age forever. I love those feet.

Today, when you wake up from your nap, I'm going to see if you want to try some banana. I know we're supposed to wait until six months to try anything but I thought you might like to change things up a bit, and besides, they're organic bananas. I'll have to update this letter with your reaction. Of course, as always, we'll get tons of pictures and footage of this event.

So my sweet girl, keep growing strong and healthy. I love you tons and tons, and so does daddy. I can't wait to spend your first Christmas with you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to us.

Love,

Mum

xoxoxoxoxoxo

not working out

2007-12-11T16:45:00.000-05:00

Sooooo, yeah. The whole "meeting up with other moms" thing the other day did not work out. Basically, I met another girl with a four month old through my step-sister and she "Facebooked" me to let me know that her and the other moms were meeting up at the mall and would I like to come. Because of her abundant use of exclamation points in the invite and because she added me to her Facebook so quickly, I said to myself: "Wow, she seems really friendly and it sounds like she would like to get together with me. This is going to be good for me."

So I woke Avery from her nap early (bad mommy), and tried to force feed her so that I wouldn't have to whip a boob out in the mall (really bad mommy), but she refused and so we headed out into the freezing cold day to meet up with other moms at the mall.

All the way there I was thinking to myself how good it was that I was getting out and meeting other moms. This would be the first time that I have done anything like this because I am a moody hermit who is bent on making myself miserable by keeping myself isolated with a small baby while trying to recover from post-partum depression.

So I get to the mall and all the moms are sitting on benches by the entrance. I walk over with a beaming smile on my face and prepare to meet everyone. The girl I met through my sister-in- law, let's just call her bitchface, turns and says hello to me, and then goes right back to her conversation with one of the other moms. She didn't even crack a smile. So I stood there like a fucking asshole while the women ignored me. LITERALLY ignored me. Finally one of them asked me my name, then we all proceeded to the food court. At this point, I was planning on getting out of there as soon as possible, but thought I would give them another shot. On the way to the food court, I weakly tried to make conversation with bitchface, which basically ended up in an exchange about how ready both of us were for Christmas. Not a single one of those women even asked Avery's name, and they barely even looked at her in the stroller. All of them were very concerned about buying their babies some silver bracelet or something that is like $200 and so we stopped at every jewellery store on the way to the food court.

When we got to our destination, I decided to just tell people I had already eaten instead of having dirty looks thrown in my direction while I tried to explain that I try not to eat processed food and I definitely do not eat fast food. Then Avery got hungry so I headed off to the bathroom to feed her (they have a shitty little breastfeeding area in there). When I returned, even more mommies had shown up and one of them had taken my seat.

I pretty much just took off after that. The giant fat mommy that I temporarily sat across from before going off to feed Avery basically insulted me by telling me that Avery is a man's name, that she thought I was crazy for having Avery in size 5 diapers already when clearly she should only be in size 3's still as her son is 8 months old and still in size 3's (yes, I guess this is what some mommies really do talk about), and mentioned the fact that she goes to church like 18 times. Oh, and she schedules "new foods" for her son to try on Thursdays like I give a flying fuck. If I could have said to her what I really wanted to say it would go something like this:

"Why don't you go eat a hoagie you fat bitch. You have an ugly baby, I hate religion and I think you are full of shit."

So Avery and I went to Old Navy where I did some therapy shopping for myself and then high-tailed it home. It was a complete waste of time. It was like high school where people think that they are cool by being rude and all non-plussed about everything. So fuck them.

I joined Babyville in my neighbourhood and Avery and I start going in January. Hopefully the mothers there will be less retarded; otherwise I am going back to my moody, shut-in ways.

catching up...

2007-12-04T10:47:00.000-05:00

Alright so Avery is now 4 1/2 months old. What the hell have we been doing all this time? Does anyone even read this blog anymore?

Avery is wonderful. She really hardly ever cries, she sleeps most of the night (except waking to feed briefly a couple of times), and she is teething though she is being very tough about it. She is still sleeping in our bed and I intend on keeping it this way after reading a few books by Dr. Sears and realizing that I am not a total freak for having my baby sleep in my bed. It is wonderful.

Breastfeeding is still going well except we have had the top of a jagged little tooth introduced into the situation and the under side of the nipples are a little sore.

I am venturing out into the world of mommy groups tomorrow. I'm going to admit that I am a little nervous. I have no idea how we are all going to navigate our strollers around the crowded mall but hell, I'm getting out of the house and ACTUALLY TALKING to other mums with babies. I am forcing myself to come out of my shell, get out of my pajama pants and interact with other people. Wish me luck.

In other news, I have joined an online group for Attachment Parenting parents. My goal is to meet other mothers who won't look at me like a freak when I tell them I sleep with my baby, nurse her on demand, and won't let her "cry it out" to "teach her to sleep". I am excited about this. I'll let you know how it goes (if anyone even reads this thing anymore).

Oh, and the reason I am able to write this? Avery is NAPPING!!! Yes, more than twenty minutes per nap! She actually sleeps for two hours in the morning and an hour in the afternoon. Oh sweet bliss.

My little ducky

2007-11-06T10:39:00.001-05:00

Happy Halloween (a little late I know...)

3 month update

2007-10-24T11:15:00.000-04:00

I really honestly thought that I would have time to update this thing. I don't even get a chance to check my e-mail regularly so it would be a miracle for me to blog once a week. So here's a quick peek into my life over the last little while.

I have written out the birth story, which I will add to this thing and to her baby book (I swear I will!)

Avery is wonderful, rarely cries and is thriving on the breastmilk. I never thought that I would be breastfeeding so successfully. I think it is the most wonderful thing I have ever done.

Avery is still sleeping with us in our bed. We have a co-sleeper now, which we just bought and I am trying to slowly get her used to it. I think I am having a harder time with the separation than she will. I think that the reason I get so much sleep is because she sleeps beside me and only wakes up once or twice to nurse, and then it is only for a few minutes.

She doesn't nap regularly yet. Sometimes she'll nap in the morning for an hour, sometimes more. Her afternoon nap is usually longer. Most of the time she falls asleep on me or in the Snugli.

Motherhood is wonderful and lonely. It is so much hard work and so rewarding at the same time. I have never been so busy in my life, but I love her more and more each day.

here she is...

2007-09-07T14:42:00.001-04:00

Sorry it has been so long since I updated. I have been writing everything down in a notebook because I still can't balance her on my knee and breastfeed while typing. I promise to get writing again soon. Everything is wonderful and I am the happiest girl in the world.

This is Avery at 6 weeks old. She will be 7 weeks old this Sunday. Time is going by so fast I can't believe it.

so very busy...

2007-08-22T08:56:00.000-04:00

Sorry for not updating in so long. I still have to get around to writing out Avery's birth story, and I must do that because I want to add it to her baby book. For now, here's a brief update:

My nipples have recovered from the horrific pain of bad latching and Avery and I are happily breastfeeding. Yay! No more bleeding nipples!

Avery is a calm, adorable and amazing baby. I am in love with her and I have never loved anyone or anything more (except for my husband, but it's a close one).

She wakes up about every 3 hours through the night for a change and a feed and then goes right back to sleep. She doesn't even cry to wake me up. She just makes some grunting noises. It's so cute.

She is still sleeping in our bed. I know, I know, everyone says not to do it but screw it, it makes us all happier and I think it makes for a much calmer, happier baby.

And...I have to go now because somebody needs some boob...

More later.

quick update

2007-07-26T14:55:00.001-04:00

Avery was born on July 15 after a lenghty labour, 2 hours of pushing and an eventual c-section. Let's just say that Oxytocin is one hell of a drug. I'm sure it is the reason I ended up with a c-section. Me and Avery are fine now, just adjusting to life in pajamas, constant boobie-feeding and desperate attempts to get in the shower.

My girl is beautiful and healthy and we couldn't be happier.

I'll write out her birth story when I have more time.

induction

2007-07-13T16:30:00.000-04:00

I am scheduled to be induced tomorrow morning at 8am. I'm not nervous yet - more irritated. I have been getting phone calls non-stop from family, friends and even coworkers asking if I have had the baby yet. It's getting really annoying. Do these people think that we won't call them?

Anyway. Avery has one last chance to come out on her own. Hopefully the induction goes well and I don't end up with a c-section. I'm sure I'll be very nervous tomorrow morning.

3 centimetres

2007-07-12T16:11:00.000-04:00

Holy hell is this baby ever stubborn. Went to the SOB's office yesterday where I found out that I was dilated 3 centimetres. He "stretched" me a little more which was not too comfortable, then I lost my mucous plug aaaaaand I've been bleeding a little ever since. Fun stuff.

I woke up this morning with contractions that have remained irregular and relatively mild all day so we went to Ikea to walk around. Then I came home and had a nap. Now I'm stuffing my face with Swedish cinnamon buns.

Maybe I'm going to have a Friday the 13th baby. Cool.

S.O.B/GYN

2007-07-05T16:40:00.000-04:00

I went in for my appointment today. My cervix is still the same measly one centimetre dilated and no effacement. My sob/gyn (as my husband refers to him) told me to go out and see his receptionist to be booked for induction next Tuesday. He told me that they will not allow women to go any later than 7-10 days past their due dates, and he preferred to do it at 7 days past.

She called down to the hospital and no one was able to book an appointment at that time (bad sign as I would later find out) so she told me to call her back when I got home. The husband and I went over to visit his parents around the corner from the hospital and I called the receptionist back while I was there. Still no appointment. She told me to keep my cell phone on and she would call me back.

I dragged the husband out to look at couch covers and towels and she called us while we were in the store. Not only could they not "fit me in" for my induction the next Tuesday, they are not going to be able to do it until the 14th of July now; which is past the 7-10 day period. So she booked me for that day and promised me she would keep trying for an earlier appointment.

First of all, how many fucking women are going in for inductions next Tuesday??? Is it that busy? Apparently.

I get off the phone and tell husband who proceeds to freak out. The phone rings again. Receptionist forgot to book my ultrasound, which is required if I am to be induced. I now have to go in for an ultrasound next Wednesday and then come see my sob/gyn right afer so he can check my cervix. I asked her why they were letting me go past the 7-10 day period when they had initially told me that they did not do that because of increased risk to the mother and baby and she just said "Oh I know you are anxious to have your baby..."

I'm anxious to know why they can all of the sudden let me go past the 7-10 day period. I asked if I could just go to another hospital to have this done and was told no. Really, I would prefer not to be induced so maybe it is better that I am waiting. I know induction is very hard on mum and baby and often ends in a c-section anyway. I'm pissed at our lousy healthcare system. The wait times are ridiculous in Ontario, especially when you need "emergency" services and procedures.
I hate my OB who gave me a pamphlet on induction and then left the office without asking if I had any questions. He did not go over the risks or the reasons with me. Typical of him but I am so fed up with that attitude.

Having a baby is so over-medicalized now I don't think that there is any such thing as a natural birth these days.

today is my due date

2007-07-03T14:42:00.000-04:00

I feel fine; no weird symptoms or crazy nesting.

The husband on the other hand is nauseous and is currently taking a nap. He was too nervous to sleep last night. He's on nights at the firehall until Thursday and has been worrying about me going into labour.

I am oddly calm.

stay at home mom (to a fetus)

2007-07-01T12:31:00.000-04:00

I am officially on maternity leave. This means that I am now home to answer the 500 phone calls I get a day from family and friends asking me if I have had the baby yet. Here are some of the sentences I find myself repeating 500 times a day:

"Nope, not yet. Soon I hope. But you know...the first one is usually late...blah, blah, blah.."

"No I don't think it's nesting, I just love to clean and I haven't really had the time to these past couple of weeks..."

"Yes, we will call you when anything happens..."

"You can come to the hospital if you want but NO ONE is allowed in that delivery room but my husband..."

And so on. It's actually getting kind of annoying. I think I'm going to go out and buy some magazines and ignore the phone. After I finish re-organizing the kitchen cupboards, re-washing and re-folding all the baby clothes and scrubbing the hell out of my showers.

But I'm not nesting.

Stay tuned...

no baby yet

2007-06-29T09:27:00.000-04:00

Well, not that I expected to be giving birth before my due date but it would be nice. I was at the OB's office yesterday, that guy is such a total asshole. He NEVER even asks me how I'm doing or if I have any questions. I literally have 5 minutes with him and then he walks out of the room without saying goodbye. I hope he is not the doctor on call when I give birth.

Today is my last day at work for a whole 55 weeks. Though I love my job, I can appreciate the break. It's nice that I get so much time with my baby. So this weekend its all about the sex and housework to bring this baby out!

Get 'er done, as they say.

still pregnant

2007-06-24T11:42:00.000-04:00

Yep, nothing happening yet...

1 centimetre

2007-06-21T11:41:00.000-04:00

Saw the OB today. I am dilated 1 centimetre which he assures me is normal and means nothing other than the fact that I am nearing the end of my pregnancy. He says he will most likely see me in the office next week. Avery is doing well and he thinks she will probably weigh about 7 to 7 ½ pounds when she is born. As for the swelling, he says I should stop working, go buy a bunch of magazines and books and stay at home with my feet up. I am seriously considering this today. I am so, so tired. Next week is my last week but, as he reminded me, I will not have ANY time to myself until Avery is in kindergarten so I should take advantage now.

The hormones seem to be at their height for some reason. I woke up kind of in a funk (I need to stop watching documentaries about peak oil and Rwanda for awhile) and when I was waiting in the OB’s office, a woman and her husband walked in looking very panicky. My OB came out to talk to her. She had had a few miscarriages and was back to find out the result of her latest pregnancy. Her physician had forgotten to send some test results over and had also failed to tell her the status of her current pregnancy. My OB confirmed that it was a healthy, single fetus in there but she would need to go and have another ultrasound because the first one missed something. I could hear the desperation and stress in her voice and soon I was tearing up. Ugh. How embarrassing. I just felt so bad for her. I remember that feeling of desperation when you don’t know if you are getting bad news or good news or what the hell is going on.

Anyway, my OB could tell I was a little sensitive so he was pretty easy on me today. He even talked to me about my job and my plans for going back to work and how many children I wanted to have. It was very unlike him.

So that’s it. After an uncomfortable internal exam, we find that we are not ahead of the game. That’s okay though. I think I’ll try to spend some more time resting and staying off my feet until my lovely daughter decides it is her time to come into this world. Until then, I am a puffy, blubbering anxiety-ridden mess.

Welcome to motherhood.

fuck off

2007-06-20T10:50:00.000-04:00

I’ve just been scanning the news headlines as I do every morning because I don’t have time to read a paper at work and I have come across some things that I am tired of hearing about. I have decided to dedicate this post to people like me out there who just feel like saying “You know what? Fuck off.”

Here we go.

Muslims hold new protests against Salman Rushdie knighthood

You know what? Fuck off. Why the fuck are we giving this shit any press time? The Ayatollah wanted this guy dead years and years ago. Then Rushdie went into hiding. Then they lifted the death penalty in Iran, and then Rushdie came out of hiding. Now Mr. Rushdie has been knighted. Big Fucking Deal. Now some people in Iran and Pakistan are mad. There was even talk of suicide bombings and how they would be justified in this case. Really. Like these idiots need an excuse for a suicide bombing. Ebrahim Rahimpour, the Iranian Foreign Ministry’s director for Europe said “The British Government’s insulting, suspicious and ill-considered act is an obvious sign of Islamophobia which has terribly hurt the feelings of 1.5 billion Muslims.”

Hurt the feelings of 1.5 billion Muslims? Because of a fucking book that was published how many years ago? Get over it. And fuck off. Oh, and I hardly think you are speaking on behalf of that many people worldwide. I’m sure that the majority don’t even know who Salman Rushdie is.

Do yellow ribbons show support for troops or for war?

City of Toronto politicians are arguing over whether fire trucks and ambulances should keep displaying the yellow “Support Our Troops” ribbons. City Hall is voting on this today. From the Globe and Mail today:

“The issue arose at city hall yesterday after a news report that the city, in response to complaints from people opposed to the Afghan mission, had ordered the decals removed from 170 fire trucks and a similar number of ambulances. The decals were installed last year, without council's involvement, after the firefighters' union paid $3,000 for the fire-truck stickers; emergency medical services dipped into its taxpayer-funded budget for a similar amount.”

You know what? Fuck off. Stop wasting time and taxpayer money on stupid ass shit like this. There are a hundred WAY more important issues that need to be addressed than this. You are voting on this in council today? What the fuck? Are you doing anything about the fact that that idiot David Miller has run this city into the ground and we are now facing bankruptcy? The same idiot who thinks that public transit is the answer to everything? That taxing people who own cars and charging families that create more garbage is the “green solution” to end all environmental woes? Someone needs to walk up to this blond-haired buffoon, this NDP idiot and flick him in the forehead and say “Hey douchebag, the firefighters are a militarily based organization. They are structured around military principles. Many reservists and former members of the Canadian military are firefighters. They are supporting their brothers who THIS COUNTRY has decided to send into a chaotic war zone to be killed for nothing.”
You don’t have to support this useless war but for fucks sake show a little compassion and humanity for the poor bastards who got shipped over there. And stop wasting time and money on issues like this. Start talking about incinerating garbage, about stopping big business from polluting the shit out of our city, about solving the immigration backlog and shutting down grow houses and putting the teenage gangsters in Jane and Finch in jail so they will stop shooting each other and terrorizing the neighbourhoods in our city.

Health Canada probes phony toothpaste sold in Ontario

Hey – how about you don’t buy your toothpaste from the dollar store? Did you notice all the other weird ass products on the shelves in there? Would you buy powdered soup from Kazakhstan? Do you really think that Colgate is selling it’s toothpaste to dollar stores?

Fuck off.

You know what else? Maybe we should stop outsourcing our manufacturing and farming to places like China, a country that seems to have no problem poisoning its own babies with contaminated formula and then not informing its public about it. A country that sent over contaminated additives for use in our pet food production, resulting in the deaths and illnesses of thousands of animals. You think that the produce and other food products you are buying at Loblaws aren’t affected by this? Guess again. Where is your garlic from?

These countries use pesticides on our food that should be banned as a weapon of mass destruction.

I think it’s time we became more concerned and conscientious as consumers and realize that cheaper is not better. It is toxic to us, to our economy and to the planet. Why are we shipping whitefish from our waters over to China to be processed and sent back to us?
Something is very, very wrong.

Okay, that’s my doom and gloom for the week.

kinda crampy

2007-06-20T09:09:00.000-04:00

I woke up this morning with a dull ache in my lower back. While I was standing in the shower I noticed that the pain moved around my waist and became more ‘menstrual-like’. Am I getting ready to have this baby over the next couple of days? It would be nice. Am I just assuming every twinge I feel is the onset of labour? Possibly.

Now I am sitting at my desk at work and the pain is back, only now it feels like my back had tensed up and I don’t want to walk even though I desperately need to pee.

For the last couple of days I’ve been feeling like she is going to drop out of me. I’ll be walking up the stairs or making dinner and all of the sudden, boom, she’s right on my pelvis and I clench my thighs together out of fear that she’s going to come tumbling out of me. It honestly feels like that.

I have an appointment with the vagina terrorist tomorrow where he will be doing an internal exam (fun!) to see if I am dilated at all. I’m hoping for at least 2 centimeters. Chances are nothing is happening though.

I really, really, really just want to have this baby. I am so over this pregnancy. I actually got mad at the cat last night for trying to sleep beside me.

That’s how grumpy I am.

dear me in the near future,

2007-06-15T10:05:00.001-04:00

Congratulations, I’m sure everything is going wonderfully. Hopefully, we never got the post-partum depression we were so worried about and we are adjusting to life as a slave/milk machine well. Also, I hope our vagina is still intact and functioning normally.

The reason I am writing this is because I am afraid that we are going to forget about pregnancy as soon as husband starts talking about having another one right away. As we both know, he is very concerned about having children too far apart and he feels like he is going to be too old to have kids in a few years, which, as both of us can agree on, is ridiculous considering that he is only 30 right now.

Here is my main piece of advice and I would like you to consider this in all seriousness: do not get pregnant again for awhile. Like, give it a couple of years. I don’t see any problem with having a 3 or 4 year old and a newborn, I think that is a great combination. I have many reasons for thinking this way and I have outlined them below:

First of all, don’t forget how bad the first trimester was. We were very sick and very tired all the time. It was hard for us to take care of ourselves and Charlie (remember what a pain in the ass he was then?) and things were very stressful. We did not start feeling better until we were about 16 weeks along. Now picture that with Charlie, a toddler, a full time job and a house to run.

The second trimester was great, but it leads in to the third trimester, which has been for the most part fine, except that we are bigger and very, very tired again. Bending over to pick up a dog chew off of the ground is almost impossible now. See where I am going with this? The breasts hurt, the skin on our tummy is stretched and itchy and we feel like a big puffy blob. Ooh, the swelling. The swelling is really bad if we don’t stay off of our feet. Not possible with toddler, Charlie, house and full-time job.

Also remember that when husband is working, especially nights, we are basically a single mom and that is a lot of work. It will not be easy with two of them under 3. And how are we managing the daycare situation? Remember the conversation we had with husband about the potential of us not being able to stay home after the second one is born. We could be shipped right back to work after the maternity leave. I know we always planned on staying home for a few years but this might not work out and I know us too well to think that we could live happily with all that stress. 2 kids under 3, Charlie, a fill time job and a house to run. Honey, it’s not worth it.

Husband is wonderful and very supportive for the most part but I am still cleaning the house, scrubbing toilets and picking up the slack at this stage. He constantly has to be reminded to change the cat litter and he ALWAYS forgets to take the garbage out on garbage day, leaving us to haul everything to the corner. Note for the future pregnancy: PLAY IT UP. Even if you feel fine, shut up about it and let yourself be pampered and cared for. Stop trying to do everything yourself. It makes you tired and grumpy. I want you to be happy and to enjoy the children, not be trapped in a messy house with screaming kids and a bitter husband.

Don’t get pregnant right away. Enjoy Avery. Enjoy her for a few years before you think about having another one. Trust me. We will have long forgotten all about this pregnancy by then.

Love,

Me.

is it me, or is he just a jackass?

2007-06-13T13:43:00.001-04:00

I had my weekly OB appointment this morning. Last week, he got ‘all up in my grill’ because I had put on 3 pounds in one week. After he chastised me for this he left the room to get something. I sat there for the 10 minutes it took him to ‘get something” agonizing over how I could possibly have put on 3 pounds in one week. When he came back in he started squeezing my calves. Then he looked at my chart. Then he looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.

“The gain is a result of all this swelling. So don’t worry about it.”

Okay thanks for freaking out about it initially, leaving me to brood and then coming back and acting like everything is fine again. Whatever.

So this morning I get on the scale and I have gained ½ of a pound and he says to me “See, it can be done!” I was like wtf? So I said “I know it can be done, you told me that last week’s gain was from the swelling.” He looks at my chart.

“Oh, so it was” he shrugs.

I hop up on the table so he can feel where Avery is (her head is now engaged – woohoo!) and listen to her heartbeat. When he lifts up my shirt he points to the couple of lines I have developed under my bellybutton.

“They’re getting worse, are they?” he asks as he pokes at my stretch marks.

Let’s just pause for a second and go back in time to a few weeks ago when I noticed the first stretch mark and proceeded to freak out and cry to my husband about my ruined body. Shallow, yes, but cut me some slack, I’m still adjusting to my new mommy body. My husband talked me out of my freak out and assured me that not only did it not bother him, it was hardly noticeable and he was so proud of me for carrying our baby and making her into a healthy little person and I should just shut up and grow up because I am a woman, not a 15 year old girl and he loves me.

I can honestly say that any worries I had about the stretch marks disappeared. I felt much better after that. Since then, I have developed a few more and they got a little longer. It looks like a tiny little animal was clawing at my skin under my bellybutton. Whatever, they’ll fade.

So when Dr. Jackass made the comment about them getting worse I just shrugged. I told him that I obsessively put cream all over my body in order to avoid them and nothing worked. I’m not happy about them (what woman would be?) but they are a small price to pay for having a baby.

“Did you get them anywhere else?” he asked pointing to my thighs. When I told him no, he said something along the lines of “Well, it could be worse. At least you can cover your stomach, but if you got them on your thighs like a lot of women do you wouldn’t be able to wear shorts anymore without being embarrassed.” Then he made some remark about how this is why men could never have babies because it would devastate them to much to have these things happen to their bodies.

So I asked him how the hell he thinks women feel about it. Does he think that we are happy to sacrifice so much? To have to look at celebrity magazines and see airbrushed pictures of women who have had babies but don’t look like they have? To worry about miscarriage? To worry about labour? To go through the pain and recovery of labour?

You know, I’m starting to think this guy is a bit of a misogynist. I really do not want him anywhere near me when I am having my baby. Oh yeah, then he actually made fun of my swollen ankles. “Nice tree trunks!” he said.

Its 35 degrees with the fucking humidex outside today in this shithole of a province. It’s fucking bad enough that I have to listen to the idiots who love this weather talk about how great it is while I sweat my tits off. I am really not interested in any comments about my swollen ankles. I can’t feel my fucking feet at the end of the day. I’m aware that I have cankles. FUCK OFF.

And if I hear one more woman say to me “Ooh, looks like you’re ready to go any day now” I am going to claw her eyes out.

When I look in the mirror at this body that is keeping my daughter healthy and safe and warm, it is pretty sad that the first thing I see is the damage that has been done to it rather than how amazing it is and how lucky I am to be able to have a baby.

This society is fucked. Pregnant women should have god damn shrines built for them.

37 weeks: whoa mamma

2007-06-11T10:05:00.000-04:00

My daughter is now considered full term. I can’t believe how fast the time has gone by. Wasn’t it just the other day that I was 20 weeks pregnant? Apparently, she gained like 18 pounds in the last couple of days because she feels HUGE in there. Like, shake the bed when she moves at night huge. There are baby parts poking out of me at all angles now. When she isn’t hoofing me in the ribs, she’s trying to escape out the side of me through my skin. I won’t even get into the rolling around, which causes me to feel like I have to take a giant you know what one second and then has me buckled over the next.

Yesterday, the husband and I were at the supermarket and she dropped herself right onto my pelvic bones and bladder. I had to stand hunched over the cart for 10 minutes before I could move. According to my OB, she is head down, but I can pretty much guarantee you that she doesn’t stay that way. We watch as she turns herself around and stretches out in there sideways all the time. Oh the pressure. I’ll tell you what though – I am freaking ready to have this baby. Bring it on. I don’t care if I am standing at the photocopier in the office here and a tidal wave of amniotic fluid comes gushing out of me and everyone sees it because I AM DONE. Get this baby out.

I’m not saying I’m so terribly uncomfortable that I can’t handle it. I’ve been pretty lucky. I’m still sleeping well and I’m not very big compared to most women (18 pounds of weight gain now), but I really am tired of being pregnant. My boobs are tired of being pregnant. My veins are tired of being pregnant. My ribs are tired of being pregnant.

I went to a breastfeeding class on Saturday. I really didn’t learn much, save for a couple of tips regarding how much areola should be in my baby’s mouth. Fun stuff. You know, it is amazing that we have to take classes to learn how to do something that is supposed to be natural. My husband thinks it’s because our society shuts women away while they breastfeed. A long time ago, you would be breastfeeding with the other breastfeeding mothers. Now you are supposed to go hide in a restroom or in your house and cover up your guns with a blankie because god forbid anyone see a breast being used for it’s original intentions. That’s right people: the female breast: not just a secondary sexual trait; it also feeds babies.

So that’s the update. I’m a little tired today and looking forward to going home and lying down. Maybe I should have taken time off of work earlier.

pregnancy update: 36 weeks

2007-06-06T11:23:00.001-04:00

Okay I feel a bit better today, at least better than I did when I wrote my last post. This is not to say that the actual situation has changed, but I have calmed down about it.

I saw my OB this morning and all is well. Avery is still head down but her head is not engaged yet. Her heart rate is very good, my blood pressure is very good, and I have gained 17 pounds total up to this point, which is also very good. I ate two danishes in a row last night and now I don’t feel so guilty about it, although a Dairy Queen Mint Oreo Blizzard has been calling my name for weeks and I am so tempted to chow down on that tonight. Damn you cravings for all things sweet and delicious!!!

The husband has been working extra shifts and has been on nights for the last few nights. He’ll finally be off on Thursday. I’m used to it I guess, but I’m finding that being this pregnant with a puppy and a house to look after is difficult without my partner. He also forgot to take the garbage out last night so I had to wake up to the sound of garbage trucks this morning, bolt out of bed and haul the compost, recycling and garbage out to the curb. Not easy with 17 pounds of tummy in front of you. Ah well, it could be worse I guess. I just wish he would stop ‘forgetting’ things like that and try to remember that his wife is tired and pregnant and alone a lot of the time with a very hyper dog and no one else to help. I made a comment the other day about how I would really like to just have a cesarean section and spare my vagina. I was being slightly glib of course, but his comment to me was “Well, then I would have to do EVERYTHING around here for two weeks while you recovered.” I didn’t say anything to that in case I am just being overly sensitive but really what I wanted to say was “hey sorry, you know this whole labour thing is all about you and your needs. I mean, who cares what happens to my body; what matters is how it impacts you right?” Yeah, right.

Anyway, I’m glad my little bean girl is doing well and that is all that matters to me right now. I can’t believe we are going to meet each other in just a few weeks. It seems almost surreal.

thoughts at 36 weeks pregnant

2007-06-04T09:52:00.000-04:00

Last night was the first night in this pregnancy that I was too uncomfortable to sleep. Even though it has been 35 degrees in this godforsaken province for the last week, I was still able to sleep. But last night, Avery decided that she preferred to be wedged on the right side of my uterus, with her head firmly planted on my bladder. I think I got up at least 11 times to “pee”, and by “pee” I mean haul my massive belly out of bed, waddle to the bathroom, step on the cat and sit on the toilet while a tiny little trickle of urine comes out of me. I begged her to stop wiggling around and go to sleep. She refused. I tried every different position I could but to no avail. Eventually I fell asleep, only to wake up for my usual 4:30am “pee” followed by my usual 4:30am anxiety attack where I worry incessantly about the baby, about everyone around me dying in a horrible accident, leaving me alone in this horrible world with no support or love, and about my family.

I can honestly say that the worst thing about this pregnancy has been its impact on my anxiety. I have had problems in the past with some minor obsessive/compulsive shit, which basically caused me to create “rules” in my chemically imbalanced head in order to ensure that nothing bad would happen. Most of this involved cleaning, a need to always be the one driving the car, and making sure that every single electrical appliance was off in my house before I went to bed. The fact that the fridge and furnace had to run seriously caused me some stress. Sounds ridiculous right? It was bad, but manageable, and eventually, it tapered off enough that I could forget about it most of the time. Then I got pregnant and had a miscarriage at 14 weeks. This shook me a bit. Then I got pregnant again and the anxiety started up like some engine of a horrible, destructive monster machine.

At first, I assumed it was a direct result of the miscarriage and the dark shadow it was casting over my new pregnancy. I had many dreams where I would be wading in murky, knee-deep water, a sense of panic welling up inside of me because I knew that I was about to encounter something in the water. And each time my feet would find it, and it would bubble up from the bottom: pieces of flesh, hair and bone and I could never get away from it. I was trapped in the water with it. Eventually these dreams stopped, and I stopped worrying about the baby so much, but the anxiety continued. In the last month, I was able to get a handle on it, and I was doing fine. But now the family issues have started up again, and without going into detail because a)I am sick and tired of it and b)I would be typing forever to tell the story, I can honestly say that I am fed up with people shitting on me, especially when I am 8.5 months pregnant. I do not need the extra stress. And after getting off the phone with my mother yesterday afternoon, after listening to her go on and on about her own depression (which I do not take lightly), and how I need to get involved in the divorce again and sort my father out, I sort of broke down. And when I broke down I felt my uterus tighten and it made me angry.

My daughter isn’t even fucking born yet and already she is feeling the effects of this family bullshit. This is not acceptable to me.

I am tired of my family and I am tired of my husband’s family. The lack of support, the dramatics, the alcoholism, the inconsistencies, the mental instability, the inability of certain people to get their shit together has all got to stop. If it does not, then I am cutting people off. The fact that my family has burdened me with their shit for the last 15 years is bad enough, but when I am having a baby the last thing I need is someone calling me up and telling me how horrible everything is, that they are so depressed that they can’t even feel happiness about the impending birth of the first grandchild and then blaming me for things I have no control over. I am tired of family telling us that our dog is too hyper and he is going to hurt Avery and we’d better blah, blah blah…and then doing nothing, offering no help, support or constructive advice. In the sweltering heat of the last few days, while my husband was working double shifts to make up for the time he is going to take off once the baby is born because we can’t count on anyone else, not a single family member from either side offered to come over to see if I needed help with anything, to take the dog for a walk, to help me with food shopping, nothing.

I am so thankful that I have my husband, my best friend in the world, but we are alone and it is so disappointing. I expected more from a group of adults. I expected more from people that supposedly love us. Most of all it makes me sad for my daughter because I foolishly thought that she would have a better and bigger and more supportive family than I ever did. I must be so naïve.

I will say this though: she will be loved, and ferociously protected from all of this bullshit. But at what expense, I worry. Now I know why people move away from their families.

what grinds my gears

2007-05-24T13:53:00.000-04:00

A woman in Saskatchewan gave birth to a baby in a Wal-Mart bathroom. Into the toilet. And left it there.

The store manager found the baby a few minutes after. The baby is now in serious condition in the hospital. In the coverage I read, authorities were debating whether or not this woman should be charged. A few months earlier in Saskatchewan, a woman abandoned a baby on someone’s doorstep in -40 degree temperatures. That woman was not charged.

What the fuck?

Are they telling us that these women should not be charged because they are so overwhelmed and scared that they don’t know what they are doing? That is total bullshit. These idiots got pregnant, decided to continue on with their pregnancies and did NOTHING to find a safe, appropriate place to leave their baby during the time they were pregnant.

Not only should these women be charged they should be fucking sterilized.

schtuff

2007-05-24T11:48:00.000-04:00

I’m 34 weeks pregnant as of Tuesday. Avery seems to have dropped herself right on to my pelvic bones and bladder and it’s getting a little bit uncomfortable. I finished the nursery, got Charlie set up with doggy daycare, and have started to get my hospital bag packed. Let the countdown begin!

Oh yes, and happy birthday to Charlie, who turns 1 year old today! My little man is still a spaz but he’s growing up. We took him to the vet the other day and found out that he’s 95 pounds. That’s one big puppy.

I’ve been somewhat neglecting this blog because work has been absolutely crazy and, lets face it, I’m addicted to Facebook.

Nothing else to add. I’ll update after I see the Vagina Terrorist (a.k.a my OB) on Monday of next week.

pregnancy update: week 33

2007-05-17T09:50:00.001-04:00

The miserable bitch whose desk is located near to mine, has infected me with one of the worst colds I have ever had in my life. This is not the sole reason that she is a miserable bitch, but it is now a contributing factor. She and most of the other women that sit in her area are constantly sick. She spent all last week hacking her face off as I squeezed my eyes against the invisible phlegm particles that spewed across the air because I knew they were headed for me. I was right.

Oh man am I sick. The only good thing to come of this, is that I have lost my voice, and even though I have returned to work today after a lovely 2 days off spent lying in bed moaning and trying to keep my hyper dog occupied (hubby at work all week), I don’t have to speak to anyone. I simply point to my throat and shake my head gravely to indicate my inability to communicate. I’m not even picking up the phone. Ha! Take that project managers! Screw you editors with deadlines! I cannot talk to you; therefore, you cannot bother me with anything.

Avery has been beating the crap out of me from the inside. I think she is still sideways, but it’s hard to tell. I am now in the sole care of my OB/GYN, after being transferred from shared care from my family doctor. As I’ve said before, I’m not really overly impressed with my OB. I called the office yesterday to book my 34 week appointment with him only to find out that they can’t squeeze me in until the next week. What the fuck? This office never has time for me. Why would they accept me as a patient then? You know what – note to self: next time we go with a midwife. First of all, with a midwife, you get like a half hour to forty-five minutes per appointment, unlike at the OB’s where you feel like you are really putting them out by asking questions as they try to get you out the door after 15 minutes. Secondly, a midwife isn’t a knife-wielding vagina terrorist (I am referring to the episiotomy-happy OBs out there). When I go in and see him for my next appointment, I’m going to ask him what the hell is up with all of this nonsense.

Alright, enough of that.

So I’m still feeling really good, other than the fact that I have Ebola. Avery is doing well too. I’m looking forward to finally having her on the outside of my body. I’m more curious about labour rather than fearful now, which is good I guess, although I guess that can change at any time.

Well, back to work. Its not long until I leave here for a year and I have a lot of prep to do. Hopefully this Ebola clears up soon.

damn you Facebook!

2007-05-08T09:14:00.000-04:00

I am oh, so addicted now.

stuff

2007-05-07T15:56:00.001-04:00

Tomorrow I am 32 weeks pregnant. I can’t believe how fast the time has gone by. I’m getting really excited now. I’ve been trying to psych myself up for the delivery. It helps having such a wonderful mother who has been so candid and supportive throughout my whole pregnancy. Mum came over yesterday and brought me loads of diapers and wipes, more outfits (for Avery when she is a bit older) and some really nice skin creams for me (I’m addicted to skin creams). My back hasn’t been hurting so I managed to clean all the bathrooms, do all the laundry and reorganize two closets on the weekend. I feel jittery if I’m not getting things done. There are a few more major things to take care of and then I will start to feel better.

Make arrangements for someone to take Charlie for a few days around my due date.
Book my breastfeeding class.
Sign up with the local mom’s group.
Pack hospital bag.
Pack bag for Charlie with food, toys, leash, instructions etc.
Buy dresser for nursery.
Give list of my friends to mother in law for baby shower.
Finish decorating nursery.
Buy “back-ups” for everything we could run out of in case of long recovery for me (pet food, non-perishable food staples, personal hygiene products etc.)
Buy breast pump and accessories
Get birth announcement cards and pre-address them now.

Ugh. That’s not even the whole list. I have another list at home. My mum was joking about the fact that I seem to have the nesting instinct kicking in early. I think it’s because I’m obsessive-compulsive about everything and if things are not done and planned ahead of time, I get really nervous. I seriously need to get on this list though.

I’ve been kind of tired, that’s the only thing really holding me back from getting all of this stuff done in a better time frame. I have a baby permanently lodged in my ribs too, which doesn’t help for comfort. Working full-time sucks a lot of my energy too.

The good news, besides my back feeling better, is that I have been sleeping better and my heartburn seems to have gone away. Now I just need to find a way to get rid of my constant cravings for everything sweet and junky.

31 weeks

2007-05-03T11:55:00.001-04:00

Dear Avery,

Things seem to be getting pretty uncomfortable for me at times. The relentless heartburn and weird rib pain are preventing me from sleeping as well as I was in the second trimester. I find that I am tossing and turning for an hour or more in the middle of the night while daddy sleeps peacefully next to me. You and I are both healthy, and you are stronger now than ever before. Your new favourite place in my tummy is nestled right up against my ribs. I can’t tell if it’s your head or your bum, and the doctor couldn’t either, that you have wedged up against my ribs, but you seem to love it there – whatever part of you it is.

I can see a hand or a foot much more clearly now as it pokes my tummy out. Daddy was thrilled the other night when you gave him a “high five”, or so he thought. He sat with his hand on my tummy for the evening and marveled at how strong you have become. It was the most amazing feeling; I could feel your little body touching your dad’s hand, and we were all connected. It was wonderful.

Your nursery still isn’t done. I just don’t seem to have the energy at the end of a work day and weekends have been crazy busy. I am going to get you a dresser next weekend, I promise. Then I will finish decorating the walls and get all of your clothes put away. I’m getting a little nervous about the labour now; actually I’m more worried about you than me. I know we will be fine, but worrying is what mothers do, as I have found out.

I’m winding down at work now in preparation for my year-long maternity leave. I hope to have this all wrapped up as well as everything else so that when you are born we can just enjoy each other. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms while you sleep. I can’t imagine there is a better feeling in this entire world.

Keep growing strong and healthy and we’ll see each other soon.

Love,
Mum

xoxo

pregnancy update: week 31

2007-05-01T09:33:00.000-04:00

So I went in for my gestational diabetes test. I made sure to get there first thing in the morning (8am) so that they could take my first sample right away and get the ball rolling. I fasted from 7pm the night before so I was not in the mood for waiting around. I told the nurse what I was there for and she told me to go and take a seat and they would call me.

I waited for 45 minutes while everyone else and their grandmother had blood taken before me.

Finally, I had my first sample taken, peed in a cup, and drank the orange fizzy stuff down as fast as I could. I waited an hour and had my second test. It was at this time that the nurse told me that I had to stay at the doctor’s office the entire time in case I fainted. I was not too bothered because I only had one more hour and one more blood test to go, so I read my Noam Chomsky book (bad choice; let just say it was a little dry) and glared at all the jerks who didn’t cover their mouths when they coughed (I’m a big time germophobe).

When I went in for the blood, the nurse informed me that she had made a mistake and that I had to do one more blood test in an hour and then I would be done. So I went for a walk outside of the building because it was a nice day and the time oozed by until finally I was done. The last test was like getting blood from a stone, but she got it.

A few days later, because I had not heard from the lab, I assumed that my test was negative because they only call when something is wrong. I was going in to see my doctor for a prenatal appointment that week anyway.

At the appointment, my doctor gets out the results and tells me that I am going to have to do the test over.

“What??” I ask.

“Your blood clotted in the vile. They ran the test anyway and all of your levels are normal to low, but because the blood clotted, they want you to do the test over again.” She looked apologetic.

“So I don’t have gestational diabetes, but I have to do the test again?” me.

“Pretty much.” Doctor.

I was kind of like, wtf, at this point. I really do not want to take another 4 hours off of work and have to starve me and the baby unnecessarily for 14 hours to do a test that I already know the results of. So I am now in the process of deciding whether I am going to do this test again. I am also wondering how competent the nurses are at the office to let my fucking blood sit around long enough to coagulate. Do they not have an anti-coagulant in the vile? Hello?!? Pregnant lady fasting…sitting around in a germ-infested doctor’s office for hours…maybe don’t fuck around with the test?!?

Anyways. My sciatica seems to have gotten a bit better. I’ve gained about 11 pounds now and still no sign of stretch marks (knock on wood), though my belly button looks pretty strained. I feel good. I can see body parts rolling under my skin and Avery still fits snugly in the old uterus. The odd time I feel her jam her head into my ribcage, but it’s not so bad.

Things are busy as usual. I need to get off my ass and sign up for the breastfeeding classes and book my hospital tour. I can’t believe I am 31 weeks pregnant already.

pregnancy update: week 29

2007-04-20T10:33:00.000-04:00

I will definitely have to agree with the books when they say to enjoy the second trimester because the third trimester is a little uncomfortable. The heartburn is no fun but the back pain is what gets to me. Sciatica sucks. It makes me waddle and then annoying idiots at my office tell me I’ve got “the pregnancy waddle” and I want to burn holes in them with my eyes because my excruciating back pain is causing me to walk funny, not my belly. So far, I’ve gained 10 pounds. Not too bad but the belly is getting in the way sometimes. I got wedged in the fridge the other day (hunting for mustard) because I forgot that I could not turn sideways and reach all the way to the back of the fridge without getting stuck.

I went in for my gestational diabetes screening and failed the first test, which surprised the shit out of me and my doctor. Now I have to go in for the three hour test on Monday. I have no symptoms and I’m not puffy or swollen. My doctor said that many women fail the first test and go on to pass the second one. I really, really hope I do not have gestational diabetes. I have been so careful with my diet and sugar intake. I exercise everyday and take my vitamins. Ugh.

I also found out that I am anemic and therefore have to take extra iron pills. I was wondering why people were telling me I looked so pale. Unfortunately, the reason I had to change to a two-a-day prenatal vitamin was because the iron in my original vitamin was hurting my stomach. So now my stomach pretty much hurts all the time. Again I say ugh.

I pee on average three to four times a night. This is apparently a result of my body sucking water osmosis-style from the air as I sleep because I have been limiting how much I drink a few hours before bed to avoid having to pee so much. When I get up, my sciatica jolts me awake and then I spend an extra 15-20 minutes trying to get back to sleep. Good times.
The good stuff: Avery moves around all day and it makes me so happy. I have these wonderful dreams where I am holding her and everything feels warm and safe. I am getting closer to the end and feeling less and less afraid of labour (for now). When my back doesn’t hurt, I feel great and go on long walks with my husband and Charlie. I have never been this hungry in my life and when I eat, it feels so good. I love tomatoes. And the best thing of all; soon all of us get to meet my baby girl and I know she will bring so much love and happiness into our lives that things will never be the same again.

the mortal remains of bees

2007-04-11T10:38:00.000-04:00

It’s been a strange week. On Monday, I arrived early at work to find not one, but two dead deer on the property. Two full sized deer; one near the employee entrance I normally use, and the other near the main entrance. Not only is it odd that there were two of them, but also strange because we are not near a major or busy road, so it would be hard to believe that someone would hit two deer whilst driving down the winding road that our building is off of. Also, we are right on a lake, so I can’t imagine where they were crossing from. There is a small wooded area further up the road so I suppose they could have come from there.

Even stranger than this is the fact that I had a dream about deer the night before. Coincidence, I’m sure. I’m not one to believe in psychic stuff. Creepy nonetheless. Worse still is that today is Wednesday, and the deer have still not been removed from the property; something to do with government workers being off on holidays over the weekend. Someone has laid a tarp over each of them and marked the spot with some pylons. When I look out the window it looks like a crime scene.

Last night, I dreamt that one of the deer was speaking to me. It told me that it had a broken leg and managed to make it over the building before it collapsed, where it shivered all night in the cold before finally dying. I woke up very upset and even writing about it now is bringing tears to my eyes. Welcome to the wild and weird world of pregnancy hormones.

Another thing I have been noticing not just this week, but last week as well, is the number of other coincidences that have been occurring. I am not necessarily going to make anything out of this but I thought it would be interesting to document it. There are four “subjects” that have come up again and again, either on television, in the conversations of others I have overheard, or in something I have read. I have been writing these down. Here is my list:

Genesis (Adam and Eve)
Shel Silverstein (the guy who wrote “Where the Sidewalk Ends”)
The Crimean War
Bees

The reason I started writing these down is because, after I had watched a nature show on bees with my husband, we had a long conversation about how few bees we have seen in our garden over the last couple of years, and how we wondered if they are a gauge of a change in environmental conditions just as frogs are. The next day I was scanning the news online and came across an essay written recently by Fidel Castro on US Brazil relations and environmental issues. One of the subjects in his essay was bees, and how the bee population in North America has decreased by 25%. What is alarming about this, according to some scientists that are studying this issue, is that there are no mortal remains of bees to be found, it’s like they have simply disappeared. Something about those words ‘mortal remains of bees’ struck me as particularly beautiful and ethereal. It also made me sad, just as the deer have, and have brought back those feelings of vulnerability that I think accompany pregnancy for so many women. Perhaps the reason I am documenting all of these things is because I am secretly looking for a message in all of this.

A few years ago, when I worked further West, I was driving home in the evening along one of the back roads I usually took to avoid the rush hour traffic. There are a lot of farms along this road. As I came up over a hill I noticed that the traffic ahead of me was slowing. As I approached the other vehicles, I could hear a strange pounding sound. To my shock, a huge black horse came racing down the side of the road, a colt right behind him. As they wove in and out of the cars, I noticed that the black horse still had reigns on him, and guessed that they must have escaped from one of the farms. Though all of the eastbound traffic had stopped, the westbound traffic could not see the horses and was still flowing. For a moment, I was in a movie and everything slowed down as the horses crossed right in front of my car, just as a truck approached from the other direction. I felt my hand go to my mouth and waited for the truck to see the horses. It did not. I felt my stomach drop and prepared myself (I think) for what I was about to see. Somehow, the horses got across the road before the truck got to them. I watched in my rear view mirror as they continued down the road, cars pulling over to the side to let them through.

I remember the sounds that the horses made to this day. I heard the black one breathing through my open window as he crossed in front of my car; saw his terrified eyeball rolling in his head before he dove back out into the chaos. It was one of the most beautiful and haunting things I have ever seen in my life. It felt like it was supposed to mean something. I guess I feel the same way about the deer and the bees and all of the other random coincidences.

this just in...

2007-04-02T09:25:00.000-04:00

Michael Crichton is skeptical of the fact that human beings are to blame for climate change.

Michael Crichton!

And we’ve been wasting all of this time listening to thousands of scientists and climatologists who tell us that the exact opposite is true.

Yes people, the man who simplified the concept of extracting millions of years old dinosaur DNA from a prehistoric mosquito embedded in amber and making dinosaurs come alive again has now provided us with his scientific opinion on climate change.

You know, it is such a relief to hear that President Bush and the oil lobbyist groups weren’t just looking out for their own interests. It turns out that it doesn’t matter if we go on exploiting this planet for its resources and pumping out poisonous fumes into the air. And it is totally just a coincidence that carbon dioxide levels dramatically increased during the Industrial Revolution and have continued to increase to this day.

Keep buying those SUV’s people; you can now do it guilt free. All thanks to Michael Crichton.

In other news: Jesus died, so eat some ham this weekend.

argh

2007-03-27T11:33:00.001-04:00

I guess I can chalk my recent mood up to the pregnancy hormones, or the fact that almost every minute of my life is filled with stress-inducing tasks with the occasional law courtesy of Murphy thrown in.

Sigh.

I’m a little uncomfortable now. Last night the husband and I took Charlie for a walk and as I ambled slowly behind them I reflected on how this appeared to be the first time the pregnancy had an impact on my walking. This made me grumpy. Husband kept looking back at me and giving me the squinty “sorry you are so uncomfortable but we both know there is nothing I can do about it” face. I planted my hands on my lower back and glowered at the ground for the rest of the walk. Before we left for the walk, one of the renovation companies called to say they would be arriving to give us a quote on taping our basement (we put up the drywall but you can forget it if you think we’re doing the taping ourselves) around 6pm. We assumed this would give us ample time to walk Chucky, who had been in the kennel all day save for the 10 minutes I race home during my lunch hour to let him pee. (Luckily this only has to happen 4 days of the month when hubby is on day shift). Suffice it to say, Chucky was a little bit spastic.

We returned from the walk to find the renovation company there early, the guy glaring at us as we walked up to meet him. Chucky, predictably, began to spaz the fuck out, and the next 10 minutes was bedlam as we tried to get him in the house and kenneled so the nice Arabic man could come and save us from our unfinished basement hell.

After the guy left, I attempted to make some fajitas for dinner. I burned my hand twice and when the wraps I was using tore while I tried to put them together, I finally lost it. I think I yelled at the fajitas and, teary-eyed, turned around to my husband to announce to him that “nothing works”. After he calmed me down, we ate our ripped fajitas. Charlie was El Terrible for the rest of the night – eating the curtains, jumping up on the counters, refusing to settle down.

After retiring for the night, I woke up 4 times to pee, stepping on the cat one of those times and waking everyone up. On my last venture back to the bed I managed to get punched in the eye as my husband lifted his arm to allow me to crawl back into the bed. I smashed my head right into his hand. I actually saw sparkles explode out of my eye and fall onto the bed, extinguishing themselves once they hit the sheets. Ouch.

This morning I woke up in a fairly bad mood, chased Chucky around the house while I tried to get ready and husband showered upstairs, managed to knock over a HUGE glass of juice that I had just poured to slake my undying pregnancy thirst, and gave up and let Charlie help me clean up the mess by licking the juice up from the floor.

Note to self: stop buying cheap, non-absorbent brand of paper towels simply because they are cheap.

On the way to work I was cut off by a bald man in a fancy car and suit talking on his cell phone. If he has a blog, he is currently writing about his morning, in which a crazy, pregnant lady in a giant minivan took advantage of the fact that his driver side window was rolled down and screamed at him that he was a “bald-headed retard incapable of multi-taking so he should just hang up his mother fucking cell phone whilst driving”, or something to that effect.

With my blood pressure sufficiently elevated, I made it to my desk in time to get teary eyed from the guilt I felt for having raised my blood pressure and the effect that it must be having on poor Avery.

What could make this day better? How about a trip to the dentist this afternoon so he can figure out why my tooth is still hurting even though he did a root canal on it a few months ago.

Mmm, yes, let’s do that shall we?

26 weeks

2007-03-26T08:45:00.001-04:00

Dear Avery,

Something amazing happened this weekend. While your dad and I were drinking coffee and reading the paper on Saturday morning, we saw the right side of my tummy move. Well, actually, I did. Then I pointed it out to your dad, who stared in amazement as you kicked/punched the side of my tummy AND WE COULD SEE IT.

At the beginning of the week, I felt that things were different in there. Your movements seemed less jerky and more controlled. I could also feel you, all of you, slowly roll over from side to side. You are just over a pound and a half according to my books. My tummy is really starting to get big (thank god for yoga pants), and I’m starting to find that getting up out of bed is a little harder than it used to be. Last night I rolled over onto my right side and I could feel where you were lying in my uterus. It was incredible. I love the feeling of the two of us being safe and warm together, snuggled up in bed against daddy.

In food news, I’m finally able to eat Indian food again. Your dad was joking the other day that you must think you’re going to be born in India with all the curry I’ve been eating.

Your grandparents on your dad’s side bought you a cradle (so you can sleep beside daddy and me for the first few months), a stroller, and another car seat! Your other grandmother (my mum) called me on the weekend to let me know she picked up some clothes and wash cloths and things for you too. You are so loved already and it makes me so happy. Everyone is excited about you – it’s all they talk about. You dad and I went to a party on the weekend and our friends are all excited about you too. You’ll be the first baby in the group!

So my sweet girl, keep growing strong and healthy. I can feel you kicking away right now as I write this. Oh, and take it easy on my bladder – maybe start kicking somewhere else for awhile.

Love,

Mum

xoxoxoxoxo

with apologies to my husband

2007-03-20T14:34:00.000-04:00

So last night as the husband and I were sitting on the couch feeling Avery pummel my insides, I decided to see what the heck is going on with my belly button.

I must preface this by informing the readers that my husband hates bellybuttons, any bellybutton touching or poking, bellybutton references, the sight of lint in a bellybutton, cleaning out his bellybutton in the shower (luckily he has an outie sort of), any references to bellybuttons and, well, you get the picture.

Many of you fellow preggos and post-preggos are aware that the bellybutton does not remain “pushed in” during pregnancy. Mine is no different. I have such a severe inny though that it’s taking its sweet time getting pushed out. When I stick my finger in there, instead of it going straight in, I have to angle it upwards, and I hit the bottom a lot sooner than I used to be able to, which now that I think of it was never. I have never seen the bottom of my bellybutton.

So anyways. I’m sitting there thinking about how I have never seen the bottom of my bellybutton and start fiddling around with it. I am unaware that my husband is still looking at the bump while I am doing this as I take my two index fingers and press them on either side of my bellybutton. The result of this is something that can only be described as a sort of “bellybutton fountain effect”, with the (as I now know) very deep tunnel part of the bellybutton being forced to the outside of my body.

Still can’t picture it? Alright then. Picture your tummy suddenly growing a little penis.

Better?

That, my friends, is what happened when I pushed on either side of my bellybutton. It was freakish even to me. My husband was so disgusted and shocked that he leapt from the couch, a sort of gurgling scream rising from his throat, as he ran towards the bathroom to throw up. At this point I was laughing so hard that pee was beginning to come out of me, which made me laugh even harder because not only is my bellybutton horrifically deformed – I am also incontinent. What a catch I am!

My husband managed to stop himself from throwing up and came back to the room. We had a brief discussion about what had just occurred (keep in mind that my bellybutton went right back in when I removed my fingers), and I was instructed that we are NEVER TO SPEAK OF IT AGAIN nor am I ever allowed to push on that area of my tummy ever again in front of him.

I can honestly say that he thinks of me differently now. I’m like a freak show to him.

Guess who doesn’t get to go ANYWHERE near my vagina when I’m giving birth? And he thinks the bellybutton is freaky.

25 weeks

2007-03-20T08:56:00.000-04:00

Dear Avery,

Last night, your dad and I were sitting on the couch talking about our day and you started kicking up a storm. I took your dad’s hand and put it right where I felt your legs kicking and he finally felt you! It was almost like you knew that daddy had his hand there. I wish you could have seen how much you made him smile. You are growing so fast and getting so big now.

I went to see Dr. B last week and found out that I have gained 3 ½ lbs. I’m pretty sure that most of that is you because my tummy is getting really big. Your heart is strong and healthy, and you still haven’t moved into a head down position, but Dr. B says not to worry, we have lots of time. I’ve registered at the hospital for your birth (I tried to get us a private room but will have to wait and see how busy it is), and I’ll be taking a breastfeeding class and hospital tour soon.

I’m starting to get a little nervous about labour, but I know that you are a strong and healthy baby and I don’t worry about you because I know you will be just fine.

We went to visit your grandparents (on daddy’s side) on the weekend to see your Uncle because it was his birthday. He and your Aunt bought you a very nice little pink sleeper. Your grandparents bought you a playpen, more clothes (I can’t imagine you will even wear all of the stuff you have!), and a cradle and a stroller with a car seat. My dad (your grandfather) has also got some stuff for you but he is going to wait for a bit before he gives it to me. My mum (your grandmother) came over on the weekend too and brought me some beautiful fresh tulips for the house and some cake because I have been eating sweets like crazy since I’ve been pregnant with you.

My books tell me that this week, you can open and close your eyes and respond to light; that the nerves in your hands are fully formed and you are playing with the umbilical cord and sucking your thumb; and that you are starting to fill out and not look so wrinkly. Oh, and you have hair now. You daddy and I always wonder what colour it will be. I’ve been having some really strange dreams these days too. Last night, I dreamt that you were a Koi fish! I was in for an ultrasound and the technician and I watched you swimming around in my uterus. You were red and gold and had big blue eyes. That is probably one of the weirdest dreams I’ve had about you so far. In another dream, you arrived at our house in a package while I was at work and when I got home your dad took me upstairs to meet you. You were packed in newspaper and sleeping in a little box. The one common thing in all of my dreams about you is the love I feel for you already. Even that little Koi fish that was you made me feel such an overwhelming sense of love I cannot even begin to describe it.

As always, keep growing strong and healthy, and we’ll see each other soon.

Love,

Mum

xoxoxoxo

to the obese woman in Sales who asked me if I “should really be drinking pop” at lunch today:

2007-03-19T13:10:00.000-04:00

And I suppose you avoided sugar completely when you were pregnant. And I suppose that the rolls of fat around your waist and on your back are from an over-abundance of vegetables and fruits in your diet. I would like you to ask yourself this:

“Should you really be commenting on what I am putting in my body simply because I am pregnant? Does that give you the right to make comments? How about the next time I see you using your fat little sausage fingers to stuff cafeteria french fries into the corpulent mound of flesh that is your face I ask you if that is something someone of your size ‘should really be eating’.”

That bitch is lucky we are at work because if she was some asshole on the street saying that to me she would have a whole world of pain coming at her.

Grrrrrrrrr.

holy crap: 24 weeks pregnant

2007-03-13T13:49:00.001-04:00

My tummy magically popped overnight. I came in to work today and everyone is talking about my bump. Now begins the incessant belly-touching. I’ve never been a huggy or touchy-feely person so I’m not thrilled when someone puts their man hands all over the belly and rubs it like a genie is going to come flying out of my ass and grant them a wish. Whatever. I’m sure they can feel me tense up when they do it so maybe they’ll get the hint.

This morning I struggled to put on a pair of my regular pants and confirmed the fact that I cannot even do up the zipper on them so I might as well forget it. I went to Old Navy last night because they have a maternity section. Oh man, those are some of the ugliest clothes I have ever seen! I ended up buying 2 more pairs of black yoga pants and some shirts a size or two bigger than my usual in the regular department and figure I can get by on that. There is no way in hell I am going to spend $60 on a pair of maternity pants that I will only wear a few times. No one at work has noticed that I have been wearing yoga pants anyways.

I still don’t really have any major complaints except that my belly button, which is slowly being forced out of itself, is feeling a little tender. Avery seems to be swimming around happily, using my cervix and bladder as her own personal trampolines. I am happy to report that, like her mummy, she really likes Cadbury Mini Eggs, so we eat those on a fairly regular basis. It makes us both happy.

I have a doctor’s appointment on Friday; just the usual pee in a cup and listen to the baby’s heartbeat appointment. Although I am not looking forward to getting the evil eye if I have not gained an “acceptable” amount of weight yet. Though judging from the belly, I think it is safe to assume that I have put on a few pounds. (Go Avery!)

So that’s it. I’m still fielding idiotic questions from coworkers and putting up with their insensitive comments, but I have stopped caring. As far as I’m concerned, people who spend as much time as they do discussing soap operas and being ‘intrigued’ by the details of the latest Anna Nicole Smith news report don’t really have much going on up in the old brain department anyway. I could roll around in a vat of mud making oinking sounds in front of these people and still not give a shit what they thought.

In other words, fuck it, if Avery’s happy then I’m happy.

International Women's Day

2007-03-08T14:29:00.000-05:00

"Violence against women has yet to receive the priority attention and resources needed at all levels to tackle it with the seriousness and visibility necessary."

Secretary-General’s in-depth study on violence against women (2006)

http://www.un.org/events/women/iwd/2007/background.shtml

chucky: portrait of a dog

2007-03-05T15:55:00.001-05:00

Is it just my pregnant hormones or is my dog actually becoming a better dog? For a whole week now he has been in minimal spaz mode. In the evenings, he curls up with us on the couch and GOES TO SLEEP! Below I have compared Charlie before and after this miraculous and (fingers crossed) permanent developmental change:

Chucky before (A Typical Day):

6:30am: Wake up and whine until mum and dad get up and let him out of kennel so that he can tear around the house for 20 minutes like his ass is on fire, then harass parents for food.

7:00am: Eat food, drink water, slop water all over floor, go outside and poo.

7:03am: Consume the poo

7:05am: Bark incessantly at nothing and have to be asked to come inside the house 3 times before listening. Come inside house and immediately run for the dining room table where breakfast has been laid out. Jump up on table, straining to get to the food that one of the parents is now holding above his/her head while trying to push him off the table with one leg.

7:06am: Other parent yells at him to get down.

7:08am: Chucky gets down. Proceeds to bark at parents. Parents avoid eye contact with Chucky as this is said by all the training books to escalate the barking.

7:09am: Parents continue to ignore Chucky and avoid eye contact with him. Barking escalates.

7:11am: Chucky is removed from the room and put in his kennel to “calm down”.

7:13am: Chucky calms down for kennel time, parents give up on reading the paper and relaxing after breakfast and start preparing to go to the dog park.

(A short period of time goes by where each of us takes turns peeing and brushing teeth while the other one keeps an eye on Chuck.)

8:00am: Parents put on coats, mitts, boots etc. Charlie jumps up and down and all over parents in what can only be assumed to be an attempt to bite them in the head. This is fun for Charlie.

8:05am: Charlie is leashed and ready to go. He gets loaded into the van in his crate after several attempts to “redirect his head” into the kennel because he refuses to cooperate EVERY SINGLE TIME and just get in the goddamn kennel.

(Car ride: approximately 10 minutes of Charlie whining like we are the worst parents in the world even though be bloody well knows he is going to the dog park, not a puppy mill.)

8:15am: Arrive at dog park. Dad struggles to get the kennel door open and the leash on Chucky to walk him calmly into the park. Chucky explodes out of kennel, finds a giant stick in the parking lot and proceeds to kneecap other dog owners as he runs fill force into the park.

8:15am-9:30am: Chucky runs, plays and manages to strip the entire dog park area clean of sticks. We proceed into the woods for a little hike where he continues to insist on carrying logs (I’m not exaggerating) throughout the entire walk, kneecapping owners and clobbering their dogs in the head as he goes along. (We have recently devised a system of keeping him off the path and away from other living things while he has a stick in his mouth.)

9:30am: Struggle to get Chuck back on the leash and get the log out of his mouth to get him back to the car.

9:35am-11:00am: The period of time that includes the drive home and the nap that Chuck has to take after dog park.

11:00am: Chucky wakes up. Terrorizes parents for the rest of the afternoon until about 3pm when he passes out again.

6:00pm: Eat food, drink water, slop water all over floor, go outside and poo.

6:03pm: Consume the poo.

6:05pm: Bark incessantly at nothing and have to be asked to come inside the house 3 times before listening. Come inside house and immediately run for the dining room table where dinner has been laid out. Jump up on table, straining to get to the food that one of the parents is now holding above his/her head while trying to push him off the table with one leg.

I think you can see where this is going. It ends in us rushing through dinner to take him for a walk. This time around the neighbourhood. When we come home he is even more wound up and we play with him until he finally passes out around 9:00pm.

Charlie Now (What I am hoping will become a typical day):

7:45am: wake up and quietly chew Kong until urge to pee becomes too much and whine softly to be let out of crate.

8:00am: Wait patiently in kitchen for dad to prepare breakfast, all the while wagging tail and allowing mum to “squishy his cute little face” (I love doing that).

8:05am: Dad puts food down and Chucky waits, YES, YOU HEARD ME, waits until he gets the go ahead to eat from dad. Eats, drinks, slops water but mum has learned to put a little carpet under his bowls so no big mess, and then outside to poo, while dad waits with a shovel to clean it up before Charlie can eat it.

The rest of the day is basically Charlie as his usual self at the dog park, then a completely different dog. He naps off and on through the day. Occasionally he wakes up and we play. He cuddles, he wags his tail, he loves. At night he settles down with us and growls at the doggies on America’s Funniest Home Videos, then naps on the couch until we put him to bed.

I have fallen in love with this dog all over again. Please, oh please let this be a permanent thing.

23 weeks

2007-03-05T11:16:00.000-05:00

Dear Avery,

Time is flying by for me. I can’t believe that I’m almost 6 months pregnant. I’m still feeling good, other than the occasional bad heartburn, and you are moving around like crazy! You dad still can’t feel you move when he puts his hand on my tummy, and he is always disappointed when he can’t feel your little kicks. We are hoping that he’ll be able to feel you soon. I’ve been out a couple of times to get some clothes for you – just a few little things. Your dad found a little shirt with fire trucks on it and insisted on getting it for you. He also went a little toy-crazy at Ikea the other day for you. He’s getting really excited.

My tummy is sticking out a lot more than before but people tell me I don’t look 6 months pregnant. I guess you’re still tucked away in the back somewhere! Last night I had some bad heartburn and couldn’t fall asleep. I guess you couldn’t either because I could feel you were moving around. So I read us some of Margaret Atwood’s “Cat’s Eye”, my favourite book. This seemed to calm you down a bit.

This week I started getting “Braxton-Hicks” contractions, which is normal for this time. We were out for a hike with Charlie and it felt like my whole tummy kept hardening up and then going soft again. It was very strange.

Your dad and I went to visit your great-grandmother yesterday. She has knitted you the most beautiful sweater with a matching hat and booties. I think I will bring you home from the hospital in this outfit, I know if would mean a lot to nana. She has been very sad since papa died last summer. I’m sorry that you won’t get to meet him, he was a wonderful man. If you were a boy, I was going to give you his first name, Kenneth, as your middle name. Instead you are getting all original names! Well, except for the last name.

Well my sweet girl, you are doing so well and getting so big and I couldn’t be happier. I peek into the nursery every morning and look at all the things you have so far and it makes me smile. I think this is the happiest I have ever been.

Keep growing strong.

Love,

Mum

xoxoxoxo

advice from man-hating mommies

2007-02-28T13:38:00.000-05:00

Oh man. The advice just keeps on coming. Today at lunch (note to self: go out for lunch from now on) I was asked by a couple of my coworkers how I was feeling and if I had begun to do any baby shopping yet. I mentioned that I got a crib from my neighbor and that I picked up a couple little things for Avery to wear, and that my hubby had gone stuffed animal crazy for her too (he is so cute right now). I brought up the fact that I was keeping my eye out for a change table/dresser, and I was told by 2 women not to bother to get a change table. Oookay.

“Just change her on your bed” they said.

“What if I’m upstairs in the nursery?” I asked (we live in a bungalow with a loft so our master bedroom is on the main floor and there are 2 bedrooms upstairs, one of which is the nursery.

“She might roll off the table” one of them said.

For fucks sake people. Like I’m going to put my baby in a high place she can fall from and leave her alone. I’m changing her goddamn diaper. I’ll be right there.

Then one of them started to tell me about the best bottles to use. The other one asked me if I was breastfeeding and I told her yes. She told me “Then you won’t really need a breast pump. And you won’t need bottles for a long time.”

“What if I want to leave her with the grandparents and go out for dinner one night? How will she eat?” Me, apparently asking a stupid question.

“I never left my baby for the first six months” one of the women.

“Me neither” the other one.

“What if you want a night out with your husband?” me.

“Why?” they asked in unison.

Oh. My. Gawd.

weird

2007-02-27T09:28:00.000-05:00

So, I woke up this morning and my bump is barely there. What gives? Yesterday my tummy stuck out further than my boobs (which is no small feat mind you) and now it’s just slightly pushing out. I’m back in my regular pants today with no problem.

Other symptoms I have read about but that have not yet happened to me include:

Linea negra, the line women get from the base of their navel to their pubic area (no sign of this yet)

Bigger, darker nipples (nope, still the same old nipples I’ve always had)

Swelling of the hands and feet (I got sausage fingers one day in my 14th week and I had to pry my wedding ring off using butter and my husband. After that, no fat hand incidents)

Excess saliva (I have always drooled a little while I slumber. No marked difference in that.)

Symptoms I did get/am having so far:

Giant boobs (and there are veins on them now. Ewwww)

Cravings for sweets (which I never liked before. Though the cravings seemed to have subsided now)

Tiredness

Nausea (long gone now)

Lack of patience for assholes in my office who feel it is their duty to give me advice on MY pregnancy.

In other news, we have a gas shortage. This has not been causing me to panic though we did just buy a minivan that is a pig on the gas compared to our other car. Then this morning on the way to work I noticed that we only had half a tank in the little car and when I went to top up I could not find a single gas station in our town that had gas. I finally found one and had to wait forever to get it and as I was leaving they were shutting it down. Yikes. Toronto is out of gas almost totally and now it has spilled out into the surrounding suburbs. I am not going to go into my rant about why this is all total bullshit and how bullshit it is that Canada has not built a refinery since the 60s and that we are piping all of our crude down to the states for them to process and they are selling it back to us while raping us up the ass and how sick and greedy and overly reliant on oil we all are…suffice it to say that the fact that we are paying almost a dollar a litre again is outright gouging and I will not be surprised if, even when the gas stations reopen and we have a supply again, the prices will not go down. And a guy on our street just bought a Hummer.

Oh, I have something else to complain about: why is everyone in my office constantly sick? There are people here who have literally been sick since October. What is wrong with these people?

Okay. I’m done now.

21 weeks

2007-02-22T09:57:00.001-05:00

Dear Avery,

I am now 21 weeks pregnant with you as of Tuesday this week. I can’t believe how fast this seems to be going right now. Despite some sickness in the first trimester with you, the second trimester has been wonderful. I started to feel you fluttering around in there around the 15 week mark. My doctor and many other people told me it was too early to feel anything but I knew it was you. The other day you really started moving around, even kicking me in the bladder! This morning, daddy woke me up as he left for work and this must have woken you up too because you got the hiccups all of the sudden. I think you had them for about ten minutes before you finally settled down in there again. Every time you move, I feel happy and relaxed, knowing that you are safe in there.

Your dad and I bought a minivan the other day. We also put your crib together and have started to set up your nursery. Hopefully we’ll get out to Ikea this weekend because they have some neat baby stuff there. I’m looking for the perfect artwork to adorn your walls too. I haven’t bought you any clothes yet but I know lots of other people have. Your great-grandmother and paternal grandmother have been knitting away like crazy for you. I think you have 8 receiving blankets already! Of course, most of them are pink. I know your dad and I didn’t want to have you in frilly, girly clothes all the time but I saw the cutest little dress with a matching cardigan the other day and I think I might have to get it. It probably won’t fit you until you are around 3 months old (and then probably not for very long). I know that my mum, your grandmother (and the best one out of the bunch, I might add) is very excited to meet you. And the most excited out of everyone are your dad and I. Your dad brought home some of his medical stuff and takes my blood pressure all the time to make sure that we are okay. He is going to bring his stethoscope home this week so he can hear your heartbeat any time he wants. We first saw you when I was 12 weeks pregnant on the ultrasound. It was the most amazing thing either of us have ever seen. You were very tiny and we could see your little heart pumping away. While we were looking at you, you wiggled around and waved your arm at us. We were so excited! After that ultrasound, I felt less worried about you because I knew you were doing okay. The next time we saw you was when I was 18 weeks along. This time you were much bigger and moving around a lot. Daddy and I really wanted to know if you were a girl or a boy but you were lying in a funny position and the technician couldn’t see between your legs so I had to move around all over the bed while the technician poked at you from the outside. Finally you moved and we got to find out that we are having a little girl. That night we went out for dinner to celebrate.

So far, it has been wonderful for me and I hope you are enjoying yourself in there! LOL. I have never craved strawberry Poptarts more in my life and I’ve been indulging in some seriously good peanut butter chocolate ice cream. I know you are enjoying these things too. Take care in there. Keep growing strong and healthy, and we’ll see each other very soon.

Love,

Mum

xoxoxoxo