Saturday, December 27, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Once we started, we were racing a clock to get the job completed before the birth of Chichi, who was expected six weeks later. Everyone on the job thought it was possible until they realized that it wasn't, and then the wheels fell off for a while. Last week, however, on the day of Chichi's five-month birthday, the job was completed:
I'm still in a bit of shock. I'm shocked that I have somewhere to sit. I'm shocked at how well it turned out. I'm shocked to see that I have a grown-up looking room. And guess what else?:
Dogs doing the conga! It's all too much. I need to lie down.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Me: Why is she in trouble?
Pumpkin: 'Cause she touched the spinning wheel!
Me, impressed that she remembered the storyline: What happened when she did that?
Pumpkin: Her shoes got dirty!
This could be the plot for an entirely different kind of princess movie.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Hey, remember that family room renovation that was to be completed before Chichi was born? Although everyone stopped rushing once they missed that deadline, and although Chichi is almost ready to start college, this Friday will be the big day. Yes, the flooring guys will be coming in to put on the final coat of varnish, and then we will be able to move our furniture in! All the finishing touches will come later, but you have to understand that I did not feel motivated to buy end tables and art work seeing as we already had to pay over a year's worth of storage fees for the stuff that we actually did order. The physical construction took six months, but the plans were drawn up OVER TWO YEARS AGO! Longest one-room reno in history. Pictures coming soon!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
On an unrelated topic, many months ago, hubby and I talked my mom into taking a 35 day cruise with a friend of hers. The price was relatively good, and the opportunity was once-in-a-life-time, so she booked the trip, not entirely knowing if it was a good idea. Today was her day of departure. Seeing her for the last time for five weeks, I became a little verklempt as I watched her wheel her brand new luggage into the airport, hair perfectly coiffed, as she looked back at me somewhat nervously. I'm so happy for her that she is going on this adventure given that she hasn't been able to travel much throughout her life due to the whole single mom thing, coupled with financial constraints. That being said, boy am I screwed! My mom has pretty much been here five days a week helping me with the two kids since July, so I'm going from mom overdose to mom deprivation. Truthfully, I know I'll be able to hack it with the kids, but I'm not promising that I'll be getting that daily shower or preparing my usual gourmet meals. Hey, if you happen to be reading this, can you send over a casserole? Much appreciated.
Sunday, November 09, 2008
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
This week I learned that duct taping a mermaid to the washroom wall is not enough incentive to get Pumpkin to do #2 in the toilet.
Even though she knows that the reward is to actually get to play with said mermaid, she will leave the washroom to go crap in her pants in private, then return to the washroom to talk about the mermaid. I do, however, enjoy the opportunity to showcase my '80s wallpaper, that I'm sure will come back in style if I leave it up there long enough.
Friday, Pumpkin went to the Wiggles concert with her Daddy and Grandma. I happily stayed home, missing the chance to see the joy on Pumpkin's face, but also possibly avoiding puking on the shoes of the people around me. The Wiggles have made me ill before, and I'm sure that they wouldn't hesitate to do it again. I also knew that there wasn't a guarantee that Pumpkin would love the concert. Her responses to many gifts and events have so far been somewhat underwhelming, so it was possible that I wasn't going to miss much. It turns out that she enjoyed the concert well enough, but the only thing that she wanted to tell me about when she came home was that the train was broken and that she needed a better one. I'm glad that her first time on public transit left such an impact!
That's my life this week. All potty and play, all the time. Woohoo!
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Today hubby took me out to buy me my gift. As mentioned above, I did not get the watch, but technically, it is still owed to me. When I was pregnant with Chichi, I found out that we were having a girl, but hubby didn't want to know the sex of the baby. I knew that if I did not ask questions pertaining to having a boy, he would know it was a girl, so I inquired about things such as the circumcision, the potential boy's name, and started sentences with, "If we were having a boy...". I asked girl-related questions too so it didn't appear that I was trying to make him think it was a boy, but somehow he got it in his head that it was definitely a boy. Any time I steered him towards thinking it might be a girl, he thought I was just trying to keep the secret alive instead of having him "know the truth." Realizing that he would not be swayed from his belief, I asked him what kind of "push present" I could have if it was a girl. Naturally he told me that I could have whatever I wanted, thinking that it was irrelevant. I told him that I wanted Uma Thurman's watch, but added that he should get it for me regardless of the sex since I was kind enough to be birthing his child. He said that I could only get the watch if I produced a girl. Hee hee. One day I'll collect. For today, my new earings will do! Is this not the most superficial babble you've read today?
Friday, October 17, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Taking off from Kittenpie's post about the misery of dressing the postpartum body, I would like to add further complaints. Right now, my body is thinking of returning to it's regular weight, but hasn't quite reached this ultimate goal. For the time being, I wear old jeans that were always too big for me, and an assortment of large t-shirts that I purchased during my previous postpartum wardrobe woes. Overall, I have succeeded in being not naked, which you should all be thanking me for. I look schleppy, and haven't cared too much until recently. This look is starting to create a problem for me. I keep getting invited to events that require me to look nice. For the most part, I refuse to buy clothes for this current body of mine. To me, buying clothes right now is like admitting defeat. I do NOT plan to spend much time in this current shape, and I will NOT appease this shape by trying to make it look nice. Then last week, there was an unveiling for my late mother-in-law, preceded by a nice dinner with some relatives that came in from out of town. Ripped jeans were not gonna cut it. I tore through my closet to find anything that would go over these unwanted curves of mine, and managed, with the help of a pair of Spanx, to look like I was at least trying. Spanx are great if breathing isn't important to you. I was in a bit of pain, but I got through the two events, and thought, phew! Unfortunately, my relief was short lived. We are now in the middle of the Jewish High Holidays, three of which days require me to dress up nice and attend synagogue services. I'm using the breast-feeding excuse to get out of actually going to the synagogue, but there are still extended family meals to attend, where everyone still has to look nice. Yesterday I re-used an outfit from last week, and today I'm just sayin' "fack it!". That's not really what I'm sayin', but I don't usually swear in full on this site. That brings me to the three weddings I have in this upcoming month. They aren't black tie, but I know that I can't get away with the current wardrobe, with the exception of the Halloween wedding where we are encouraged to wear costumes. If it fits, I might just go in my slutty pirate outfit. What? You mean you don't have one of those too? As for the other weddings, I asked around for something to borrow, but came up short. Literally. My friends are all taller than me. I had no choice but to admit temporary defeat and buy something. So sad. Anyhow, if you are having an event, and I can't attend dressed like a bum or wearing my new, black evening dress, don't invite me. It's too stressful.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Mom thought they were delicious! She even suggested that I make them again, and not worry about frying them.
Hubby thought that they were really good. He even stated so in a tone that told me that he meant it, rather than his usual, scripted tone. You know what I'm talking about. The same tone that accompanies phrases such as, "Nah, your ass didn't change at all with this pregnancy".
Pumpkin didn't like the way that the breading fell off the chicken when she pinched it. Once that happened, she refused to actually taste it. Instead, she had a time-out for blowing spit bubbles at me, then returned to the kitchen to eat a banana. That's actually an example of a good eating night.
I thought it was quite tasty. Although my house smelled like fermenting garbage as a result of steaming something as vile as broccoli, the other ingredients hid most of it's disgusting flavour, which I was able to totally finish off by using a honey mustard dip.
Chichi sat in her swing and said, "Ack!", which I think translates to, "What's the deal with the fermenting garbage???"
This gourmet meal was inspired by the pressure to sit down to dinner as a family, which, according to the media, will increase my childrens chances of having a bright future, and be less likely to use drugs. Whatever. I am personally more likely to abuse alcohol after these attempts to get Pumpkin to sit still and actually eat.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
- Peed on the new couch
- Peed in several pairs of underwear
- Pooed in several pairs of underwear
- Smeared her lunch all over the counter, then licked it up
- Chewed her hair, her sleeve, her jacket zipper, her blanket...
- Stuck a finger in each of her nostrils at the same time
- After doing the double nose pick, she grabbed a food storage container that I was using
- Ate sand
- Made spit bubbles and let them dribble all over the house
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
So after hanging around my own house and yard this week, I discovered that we have to move. We have a garden in the back yard that I have never tended to so it has become a haven for whatever wants to live in weeds and ground cover. Yesterday Pumpkin was jumping around in there and came out running towards me shouting, "That's a nice snake!" Huh? Snake? I went over to take a peak and saw not one but two snakes slithering away from Pumpkin's footprints. One of them was about two feet long! Maybe this isn't creeping you out the way it creeps me out, but I'm not lovin' sharing my space with things that slither. I think I did the wrong thing and told Pumpkin not to go back into that area because snakes bite. Now she will probably have a phobia, but isn't it useful to be afraid of snakes?
In renovation news, don't take my lack of reporting about it to mean that it isn't happening. After Chichi was born, everyone slowed down since meeting the baby deadline was no longer a concern. The wheels also fell of a little when the plastering was contracted out to hubby's friends instead of someone who does plastering for a living. There were a lot of touch-ups and repairs that are sort of finished. Now the carpenter has done his part, and I will be able to see the light at the end if the electricians show up this week. Get it? Light? Electricians? We are officially in the home-stretch. I don't want to post any photos now as I'm saving myself for the finished product. We're actually going to get to use our family room before 2009!
Hmmmmm, I'm racking my brain for something to post about but when you don't go out or watch anything but the Treehouse channel for a week, the pickings are kinda slim.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
I think that they look like a furry little friendly Monchichi:
Since it's my blog, we'll just assume that I am more correct. This brings me to an important announcement: From this post forward, the baby will be known as "Chichi", 'cause it's cuter than any version of the name, "Zoolander" that I can think of.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
"Uhhhh, yeah", he replied, without enough of a sense of urgency. I pulled over to find that both blankets were out there. The pink one was tangled up in the main one, and it was only by luck that the main one was anchored by the door. All is well now, and I don't want to start a fight over it, so it will have to suffice to embarrass my husband by publishing this story on the World Wide Web, in hopes that enough of our friends read this post and tell him what a doofus he is.
Friday, August 15, 2008
I absolutely HATE HATE HATE breastfeeding in public. I can appreciate that I have the right to breastfeed wherever I want, or so I would like to believe, but the gliding chair in my baby's room with the assistance of a nursing pillow will always be my first choice. I've learned to make peace with the fact that I have to do it in front of my mom since she is usually here, but even that makes me a little uncomfortable. Recently, some inlaws came over for a visit to meet the new baby, so I felt obligated to spend time with them and not hide away in the baby's room when it was time to feed her. I found it stressful, especially since the baby doesn't stay latched for long periods of time. She is always pulling away and re-latching, which certainly leaves me exposed for all to see. Despite knowing that breastfeeding is completely natural and non sexual, I'm still not comfortable letting other people see my boobs. I didn't like my boobs being seen back in the locker room in Jr. high, and I don't like it now. Most people are polite enough not to stare, but there was a ten year old boy in that pack of visiting inlaws who could use a lesson in manners. This past week, I was on the phone with his mother who suggested that I cover up when I feed the baby when her son is around because ever since that visit, he has not stopped talking about my boobs, their size, their colouring, etc. Great. I love that he has created a visual for the rest of my inlaws. Given that this kid was just busted by his parents for surfing adult sites on the net, I can see why my rack got him talking. My guess is that my set scarcely resembles the perky and probably artificial ones that he saw on line. Hey, the porn industry gave me false expectations too. The first penis that I ever saw belonged to a porn star on a movie that I found in my brother's room. The "actor's" name was Raul, and his schlong was the size of Manhattan! Reality catches up to us all eventually, but I don't want to be the one who teaches this little boy what that reality is, especially if he is not mature enough to understand that boobs in this context are not sexual. (my husband will attest to that) Under these circumstances, I am quite happy to cover up, which I was trying to do in the first place, and I don't mind that it was suggested that I do so. The boy's mother may or may not have used the incident as a teaching opportunity, although that isn't my concern. I just learned that on a more recent visit with my inlaws, the same boy peeked around a corner to catch another glimpse of me nursing my daughter, even though I made a point to do it in a separate room. He was silly enough to brag about it to his mother, and consequently got in trouble for it.
In no way am I saying that women should cover up or hide away while breastfeeding. In the words of HBM, "BOOBS ARE NOT DIRTY. BOOBS ARE NOT SHAMEFUL. BOOBS SUSTAIN LIFE. OF BOOBS PUT TO THEIR NATURAL PURPOSE WE SHOULD BE PROUD. OF ALL BOOBS WE SHOULD BE PROUD." Nonetheless, if this boy is going to gossip about my rack to my inlaws, and possibly noodle himself under the covers as he replays the memory, I'm coverin' up, thankyouverymuch.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
A friend of mine once told me a story that I was certain was an exaggeration, so I dismissed it at the time. After he and his wife had their second child, they agreed that the wife would be primarily in charge of the baby, and he would look after the older child. After many months had passed, he was then given the task of watching the baby for whatever reason, and he realized at that time that he didn't know anything about his second child. I think I understand how he might have felt that way. Since our second child arrived, I have been in the privileged situation of having an extra pair of hands to help me. My mom has been here almost every day since the baby was born, primarily looking after Pumpkin. Many mothers of young children would kill for that kind of free help, and I know that none of you are playing violins for me, but there is a downside. As mentioned earlier, I missed a stage of growth. I don't want to miss stages. I can see myself not knowing all that I should know about Pumpkin if I allow myself the luxury of not having to ever wipe her butt or force-feed her . It is great to be able to give the new baby the kind of attention that I gave Pumpkin when she was an infant, but I need to ensure that I get some quality Pumpkin time too. I know that I have to make a better effor than I've been putting forth lately. That being said, you can continue to give her some of her baths mom. I still need my reality TV time too.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
Wow, was that ever a lame post! Let me make it up to you with a picture of the babe, 'cause I imagine that you would rather look at her than listen to me yammer on about stuff anyways.
The hair is still hangin' in.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Another great moment in Pumpkin-land was yesterday's trip to the dentist. Six months ago when we first took her to the dentist, she was frightened and wouldn't open her mouth for more than a minute or so. At that time, I had been reading to her from a book about Dora going to the dentist. Since we've now read that book together about 50 painstaking times, Pumpkin is no longer afraid. She sat with her mouth open long enough for a proper cleaning and flossing. I'm still beaming with pride over that one since Pumpkin doesn't ever do what Pumpkin doesn't want to do.
The baby also hit a of minor milestone. One night she slept six and a half hours straight! This is reminiscent of Pumpkin who slept eight hours every night starting at three weeks of age. Other mothers hated me for that but sleep was more important than their approval. Oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please let this baby follow suit. Pretty please?
Speaking of sleep issues, wouldn't it be cool if baby monitors had snooze buttons? What's the worst that could happen? Also, can anyone explain why it is so easy to doze off while sitting uncomfortably upright while giving a baby a late-night feeding, but it takes about twenty minutes to fall back asleep once returning to one's bed after said feeding?
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Pumpkin started breast-feeding her dolls, although she feeds the dolls through her belly-button. In her defence, my belly-button is still protruding, and has a darker pigment than the rest of my skin, so I can see where she got confused. I've decided to let things be so she doesn't start talking about boobies when we're out at the store or something.
Pumpkin starts camp tomorrow. This will be the first time I will be dropping her off anywhere and I'm pretty nervous about it. The camp is at the same place where she will be attending pre-school in September, so it seems like a good idea to get her feet wet by trying out the camp first. I just can't imagine her going off into the world with all of her peculiar idiosyncrasies. Will they mock her for screaming, "I DID IT!!!" whenever she pees in the potty or toilet, or whatever they have. Will she even use their potty? Will the fact that she hasn't figured out the rules of "time out" be an issue? Is the fact that she doesn't do what she's told be an issue? I guess that's the real concern. Her behaviour is a reflection of me, and although she is 90% angel, the 10% devil that we see a lot of at home has me very worried. I don't want to be the mother of "THAT" kid. I guess it's time to step up the disciplining in this household, even though it doesn't get through that easily. While I was typing this post, I had to break for half an hour to implement and re-implement, and re-implement a time out, and only managed to get ten seconds of silence before I decided to quit while I was ahead. Maybe next time we'll make it to twenty seconds?
The baby is being a baby. Not much that you'll find interesting about her, except that she is so cute my head might explode. Thank you all for your compliments on her picture, BTW. Breast feeding is going well enough - no extreme pain, cracking or bleeding. She is willing to take a bottle, unlike when Pumpkin was an infant, so I still see a glimpse of freedom on the horizon. We're even escaping for a couple of hours for dinner tonight.
Well, that time-out sucked up most of my blogging time. Until next time...
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Thursday, July 10, 2008
When Pumpkin was born, there was plenty of time to prepare. My water broke the day before, so they had to induce me about 15 hours later. The happy-epidural-woman took care of my pain, and the nurse who was looking after me kept bringing me Jell-o, and talking to me like I was four, which I quite liked under the circumstances. I was in the delivery room for a few hours before it was time to push, and when Pumpkin finally came out, there was a whole team of doctors and nurses waiting to take care of both mom and baby. This is how I imagined that the birth of baby #2 would be.
Last Thursday, which happened to be Pumpkin's birthday, I started having contractions. By mid day they stopped, and then resumed in the evening, which sucked since they were going to screw up the good night's sleep that I had planned to have before delivering. I was supposed to be induced on the Friday morning. The contractions went on through the night, although they weren't strong or frequent enough to keep me completely awake. I woke up a lot, but still managed to get some sleep. I was supposed to get a call between 6 and 8 in the morning to come in to be induced, but by 7:15, I left for the hospital, even though I hadn't received my call, and even though the contractions were still not consistently five minutes apart. Some were only two minutes apart while others were as far apart as twelve minutes. I was actually concerned that they would send me home if my doctor wasn't ready for my induction, but I wanted to try, and my mother was practically pushing me out the door to ensure that I didn't deliver in the car on Leslie Street. The two contractions that I had in the car were seven minutes apart, and only medium on the severity scale.
In the assessment room, I was ignored for about half an hour. The pain was still controllable with deep breathing, so no one was overly concerned. Finally I was asked to go lie down so they could determine how dilated I was, and as soon as I lay down, the pain intensified. My moaning and groaning could be heard by the other people in the assessment room, but I couldn't control it. I even yelped out, "Help!" at one point. Finally someone came to check me out, and called another nurse over for a second opinion. I hate when a medical practitioner calls a colleague over to check me out. It wasn't the first time that this has happened to me and it has never been a good thing. "Yup, she's ready to go! You're fully dilated", she said to me. I immediately started begging for an epidural for the pain but was told that the happy-epidural-lady was in surgery and that the baby would be out long before she could tend to me. I begged for something else. They said that they could get me some laughing gas, but then never found anyone who could give it to me. They rushed me to the delivery room while I continued to groan very loudly, as everyone in the assessment room looked on. The doctor on call came in after about 10 minutes of intense screaming, broke my water, and had me push. I pushed for maybe five minutes before the baby was born. I had only been in the hospital for just over an hour at this point. That doesn't beat HBM's 11 minutes, but I wasn't all that interested in competing.
So I accidentally had a natural childbirth. In hindsight, I'm glad I had the experience of it, only to say that I did, and to discover how intensely I can actually scream, but I still wouldn't recommend it to my friends. It may have been a better experience if I hadn't been anticipating the drugs for the past nine months, or even if I had read the "irrelevant" chapter on drug-free births. At least it was quick, and the end result is still miraculous.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Other than that, all I have going on is toilet training. We've had a fair amount of success, but all I can really tell you at this point is that the process forces one to stay on top of the laundry. Is that a plus? I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel on that one.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Next, I invite everyone to congratulate my mom on her retirement! Today was her final day of work, and she is super duper happy about it. Don't worry about her being bored or anything - I'm sure we can find some way to fill her time REAL SOON!
I don't have much else going on right now. Just a bit of nesting behaviour, and a last ditch effort to find a console table for the family room that is currently under renovation. No luck with that. Speaking of the renovation, the floor has been stained and given two coats of varnish. One more coat will be applied at the end of the whole project. The painter is coming some time this week, even if I happen to be in the hospital, so things are still motoring along.
The upside of the room not being finished yet is that we won't be in there spewing newborn spit-up for an extra few weeks. I'm always looking for an upside.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
So yeah, still preggo over here. I need to hang on for a while if the renovation is going to be completed before the baby arrives. Ok, I concede. That dream will never happen. Things are happening, but it looks like we won't be using that room until late July. The fireplace was installed on the week-end, the floor is being finished this week, the painter is coming next week, and then we still have to have all the mill work installed. I'd post a new picture but plastering and priming is all that has happened since the last shot, which doesn't make for a dramatic impact. I'll post the floor by the end of the week. So anyways, if I can't make the baby wait for the renovation, I'd at least like it to wait for me to get my hair done on Thursday or Friday of this week. Not too much to ask, is it?
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
How about that crazy heartburn? It has it's benefits too! Just today I was at Costco, noticed a club pack of Oreo Cakesters, and was immediately turned off by the inevitable heartburn that I knew I would suffer if I were to buy them. How many calories and grams of fat did that save me? Hey, I only have to be awakened once at 3am by the burning sensation of acid in my esophagus to know that such rich starches need to be avoided. Ok, maybe it took me three times to learn my lesson, but at least I didn't buy the box of oooey, goooey evil. Nothing seemed to stop me from buying a club pack of gourmet jelly beans, but there was a coupon! It was beyond my control.
As for my aching feet, it's all good. I get to wear sensible shoes to fancy events and no one dares to judge me. A few weeks back, I actually wore flip flops to a wedding. They were fancy flip flops, but flip flops nonetheless. I think I'll wear them again tonight to a dinner event. And if the event is unpleasant or boring, we can leave without need to explain ourselves. It is assumed that I'm already exhausted and tired. People will think I'm a trooper for being there in the first place!
So there it is - my positive take on the situation. It does help that Pumpkin is being much better today, and that my mom has been here since lunch time taking care of her. (It's also helpful to have a face full of jelly beans!)
Monday, June 16, 2008
Monday, June 09, 2008
Often, a blogger in my position will do a post that is like an ode to her first born. I completely understand this. For the past three years, the days have been just me and Pumpkin spending time together, learning from each other, and learning about each other. These have been such precious years, and the fact that this twosome is coming to an end could be an emotional time. That is, if I was an emotional person. Being the recluse that I am, I haven't given a great deal of thought to the issue. I love my daughter with every fibre of my being, but I don't feel the sadness that I have read about elsewhere. I dwell more on the fact that my easy life with one child as I know it is about to change. One is manageable. One travels well. One can be passed off to Daddy, or Grandma, leaving me to do my own thing. The one we have never wakes me up in the night. The one we have is relatively easy to deal with. Overall, adding a newborn to the mix is really going to upset our equilibrium. Yeah, yeah, I know I'll get used to it. My point is that this is more on my mind than the end of the Mommy/Pumpkin era.
How about posts that are written to read as welcome letters to the unborn child? This has never occurred to me as something I'd want to do. If I were to attempt this right now, it would read something like, "Uhhh, hi baby! Sorry the place is such a mess and that you have to live with all this noise. Overall you should like it though! You will never be wanting for love or audio/video equipment!". I'll meet him or her when the time comes, and I'll figure out what to say afterwards. I don't feel any sort of connection at this point to be able to come up with something heartfelt. I'm not even all that anxious to get this baby out and start the process. As crappy as it is to be this pregnant, it's much less chaotic than what is to come. Just this morning I dug out the bucket-car seat, and did not feel a pang of anything but dread. Here we go again with all this infant stuff. Not the best mind-frame to be writing a welcome letter to anyone. Sorry baby. No pre-birth letter from mama, but I promise you that you won't be disappointed with me once you're here, at least for at little while.
How will I be able to love this second child enough when all my love is currently devoted to my first one? This is a question that I have never asked myself. I'm not scoffing at mothers who have worried about this. It seems like a legit concern. I am not willing to sacrifice any of my love for Pumpkin to give to Child #2. Apparently, I won't have to. Any time I have read a post about this, the mother has just come up with more love to give. I'll take their word for it and not worry for now. That's just me.
Finally, there have been posts about actual birthing experience. Some have expressed the importance of having a vaginal birth as opposed to a c-section. I don't want major surgery anymore than the next gal so I'll avoid the c-section if I can, but the issue seems more to do with the experience of delivering a child vaginally, and how that provides some fulfillment as a mother. Some have expressed the importance of giving birth in their home environment, which I think I might hate. Some have sworn by their mid-wives, which I have no knowledge of, but I also don't feel the need for after the delivery of Pumpkin, where I was quite satisfied with the care provided by the doctors and nurses. Personally, I only have two requests: Give me your best drugs, and get the f*ucker outta me!
Am I missing some sort of mommy-gene that should have me pondering such issues?
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Behold, the new floor. That green blob at the bottom of the pic - that's my stomach. I found it amusing to see it jutting out into the frame, so I left it there. You want me, I can tell.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Sleeping in late was high on our daily agenda. Once we were up, we watched a LOT of TV. Re-runs of Alice stand out in my memory, along with Different Strokes, and The Facts of Life. Game shows, cooking shows, whatever - we just kept watching. By mid-morning, we would make our own breakfasts. Sometimes we had cereal, but I do remember frying bacon and/or eggs all by ourselves as we prepared our BLT or western sandwiches. Frying. Wow. No microwave option at the time either. Think of a nine year old that you know - now imagine his or her parents giving him or her permission to fry something while home alone. I can't see it happening. As scary as that sounds though, we really could take care of our basic needs by ourselves.
At some point in the day, I would typically hook up with my best friend who lived next door, and we would head off to the pool that was available to all residents of the townhouses that we lived in. No sunscreen of course, but who needed it back then? There was an actual life-guard working there, which was pretty much the most supervision we had during the hours between 9 and 5. The lifeguard was probably 14 or so, and I remember her sending us to the store to pick up powdered donuts for her, which she kindly shared. We were always running off to the store, the second either of us managed to come up with any amount of money. One of the nearby stores was forbidden to us by our parents who weren't comfortable the the crowd that hung out there, but we just HAD to go there, 'cause that was the best place for beef patties, and possibly cream soda flavoured freezies which just popped into my head. Memory or pregnancy craving? Who knows? We also walked over to the local mall on many occasions, and once again, although it felt like a perfectly safe activity, I still can't see anyone letting their nine-year-olds do the same. Correct me if I'm wrong.
There is no doubt in my mind that society has us protecting our children way more than is probably necessary, although as a parent, I want to protect my children as much as I can. On the other hand, I would really like to allow for a certain amount of independence to promote growth. Reflecting back on those freedom days of summer, I really don't feel like I was ever in harm's way. We had relative street smarts, and learned to make good decisions. I wish I knew how to pass these skills on to my kids given the current social climate, where things may or may not be worse than they were, but fear is at an all-time high.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
My male dog has an iron stomach, usually. With all the tradespeople coming to the house lately, we've been giving him a lot of rawhide to chew on as a diversion, as he is extremely mistrustful of strange men in the house, given his background of abuse from previous owners. This also teaches him to associate new people with a positive reward, which seemed like a good idea ever since he almost bit the guy who came to baby proof the house. Normally rawhide doesn't affect him in any way, although I am told that it can cause constipation. That would actually be nice. Unfortunately, it seems to have caused the opposite reaction. This morning, we found a large pile of crap in the baby's room, as well as a lot of pee, adding insult to injury. Our carpet shampooer couldn't handle this one, so we're going to have to bring in a professional. In the meantime, I have been following the dog around the backyard, just to see if his crap is back to normal, otherwise there is no point in calling in a professional carpet cleaner just yet. Based on the two piles that I just scooped up, we're going to have to wait a bit longer.
On top of my leaky dog woes, yesterday was the day that we eliminated diapers for Pumpkin whenever we are at home. Bad timing, but I don't think that we should turn back on this. We did have some successful potty moments, but also an equal number of lesser successful moments. So now we have three beings who are not relieving themselves where they are supposed to, a carpet that may or may not come clean, an inevitable bill from a carpet cleaning company, and a lot of laundry. Lovin' life today!
Sunday, May 18, 2008
The other night, I dreamt that I was adopted by Ellen DeGeneres, and that she and Portia de Rossi were going to help me raise my unborn child. Is that weird?
The eye update: I would say that the average person would not notice that I impaled my eyeball with an exploding bottle last week-end. It's almost not even worth mentioning, except for the fact that my post about that incident generated more comments than usual for me. I am now going to pepper all of my future posts with the phrase, "bleeding eyeball", just to keep the flow of comments coming in.
And now for the highlight of my week, MY DEMOLITION!!!!! (cue music from the game show, Definition, because "demolition" and "definition" sort of, like, rhyme). Behold, a picture of my favourite room in my house:
This ugly room is my favourite because it's bareness is indicative of something that I have been waiting for for a long time. About two years ago, hubby and I decided that our family room was really ugly in an '80s sort of way, and that we needed to start from scratch if we were ever going to love it. The paint colour was my error as I was talked into it by a painter who scorned me for going with off-white in my last house. I took his advise on the current house, and regretted it right away. We never re-painted because we then got the idea for a complete renovation. Anyhow, since construction was part of the equation, I met with a decorator to determine how to proceed. The decorator came up with drawings, and then it was up to us. Hubby wanted to use a particular contractor named Neil. Yes, Neil is his real name. I'm trying to shame him so Neil, if you happen to find this post, it serves you right! Neil was doing a lot of carpentry and mill work from my husband's company, so it seemed like a good idea to use him, given that he would want to please us to ensure future work within the company, or so one would think. Neil kept putting us off, and lying to us, and never came to do the work. Finally, after A YEAR AND A HALF (!!!!!), hubby decided that maybe Neil was not the man for the job. Either Neil isn't a smart businessman, or his actions have something to do with an unsuccessful blind date that he and I went on about 15 years ago. It was a one-time-only date that didn't go anywhere, which he may or may not have remembered. Yeah, I went on a blind date - I was lonely, ok??? I wasn't always this hot and marketable. (Shut up and leave me to my delusions - they make me happy.) Anyhow I never did let on that I recognized him on the one occasion that he came to look at the room. Small world nonetheless. So now we have a real contractor who is working on our project as we speak, a completed demolition, electricians and flooring people scheduled, new furniture jammed into several rooms, and only six weeks to go until the baby is born. That widget on the right is now a countdown for two events. The race is on! Place your bets on which one will happen first!
...oh yeah, I almost forgot... bleeding eyeball!
Monday, May 12, 2008
In retail news, we finally bought our patio dining set, and decided to go with the medium to higher-end stuff as opposed to the cheaper sets that I was deliberating about back when I first posted about it. In my travels, I learned that aluminum is a good way to go as it does not rust, and that wrought iron is just too damn expensive. I went with the sling-style chairs so I don't have to mess with cushions, and I made sure that the chair backs were high enough to accommodate people taller than myself. At 5'1", not many chairs are too short for me. The chairs also have lumbar support, which matters to our aging bodies. So there you have it, 'cause I know you were dying to know.
In the land of Mother's Day, it was an iffy day. Aside from my icky eye, I have one of those non-medicate-able colds again, so I was pretty weak and crusty. Thanks to my ever lovin' husband, I got to sleep in, which helped, and then I didn't have to do too much toddler wrangling for most of the day. I met a friend for coffee, and did a little more furniture shopping for Pumpkin's room. I'm replacing the change table with a bookshelf, and I bought a matching desk, not that she needs one now, but no doubt the line will be discontinued if I wait another few years. In keeping with the teachings of "The Secret", by preparing to eliminate the change table, Pumpkin actually used the potty twice yesterday. Today, not so much success, but that's because I only half-ass The Secret. It's in my nature. Anyhow, to cap off the day, we ordered in from Dante's, which, if you have ever spent any time in Thornhill, will make you salivate at it's mention.
I still have to post about the family room demolition, but I'll leave you in suspence for another day as I am too tired to sit at the computer and need to close my eyes for a while. Stay tuned!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Last night, about a half hour before dinner with my mom, FIL, hubby, and Pumpkin, I put two bottles of sparkling mineral water in the freezer to cool down quickly. You can already see where this is going, can't you? When dinner was served, hubby grabbed one bottle from the freezer, leaving the other one in there to get colder. We always polish off two bottles when my FIL is over for dinner, so it didn't occur to either of us to take the second bottle out yet. Well, somehow, we weren't very thirsty last night, and the second bottle remained in the freezer until I remembered it just before heading up to bed. I pulled it out of the freezer, and stopped to examine it to determine that it was, in fact, frozen. While I was holding it, the heat from my hands must have ignited the explosion, and that bottle burst into a kajillion tiny shards, landing in every nook and cranny of the kitchen. I sustained only one injury, but it was a significant one, as I discovered that I was bleeding out of my eyeball. Curiously, it didn't hurt. Nonetheless, I wasn't going to mess around with something like that, so after my mom so graciously came over to babysit, we headed off to the ER to get my eye looked at. As it turns out, there was no glass in my eye, but a cut was evident, as is the fact that half the white of my right eye is now red with blood that probably won't clear up for a week or so. Pretty! Speaking of pretty, as I was leaving the ER, there were about ten girls in prom dresses hanging around the waiting room, creating a 90210 effect. I would have liked to ask one of them their story, although I was too tired to think about it at that moment. Anyhow, I feel quite lucky that I wasn't hit in the cornea or some place more important. I'm actually inclined to think that I was cut by ice, and not glass, since the damage is so minor. I'm also lucky that Pumpkin was already in bed, and that the dogs were outside when this incident went down. Yup, I'm one lucky girl. So how is your week-end going?
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Monday, May 05, 2008
I guess I could have read the box and noted that there were 15 of these unfulfilling snack cakes inside, but I just guestimated that 100 calories would be about three times larger, with maybe 6 cakes in the box. I'm also a little worried about how many calories are in the regular-size May West cake as I tend to eat them by the box-load when I can find them. That explains the more-rapid-than-usual weight gain over the past few weeks. Shame on my unborn child for craving edible oil products so badly!!!!!