This was an interesting week for Pumpkin. She had her first week of camp, which, as mentioned previously, is the first place where I've ever dropped her off. I only cried a little on that first day, although Pumpkin didn't cry at all. When she asked if I was staying, and I said that I wasn't, she turned her back on me and went back to whatever activity she was already engaged in. I'm not sad about that - I'd rather she not cry, which would leave me feeling guilty. I just had one of those my-baby-is-growing-up moments. She went every day for four days, and apparently did very well. She did not completely embarrass our family, although she did have to be asked twice a few times to do things. Not bad considering that she was raised by wolves.
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?
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Parenting Randomness
I miss writing. I find myself concocting posts in my head all the time, but the posts never come to fruition. I like to write at night, but nights have become a write-off as you can well imagine. I have to make peace with writing during day-light hours. I've only got time for randomness today as I can only expect both the baby and Pumpkin to amuse themselves for a short while.
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...
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
Checking In
I'm still here, head above water. I haven't been posting because of visiting family members, and the fact that my blogging time coincides with my sleeping time, and you can guess which one wins out. The sleep situation isn't too too bad, although it takes a little getting used to. The baby sleeps in three hour stints, with the occasional four, but usually three. This would actually be completely tolerable except for the fact that I was given a rubella vaccine while in the hospital, and I turned out to be part of the five percent of people who have side effects. Nothing drastic, but aching joints, headaches, and a fever don't help the situation. Did you know that when you add a fever to existing, hormonal night sweats, you may as well wear a bathing suit to bed? Charming, no? Anyhow, although I've had all the babies that I'm presumably gonna have, I am now immune to a virus that is dangerous to unborn children. Better late than never?
It has been hours since I started this post and the baby isn't going to let me add much more as she had declared today to be boob-fest. For now I will leave you with a picture intended to melt your heart, or at least show off her natural faux-hawk:
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Drugs?
So I guess it's time that I shared the birth story with you guys. I honestly didn't think I'd have a very interesting one to offer, but since my birth plan more or less went out the window, I can entertain you with it somewhat. If you recall from a previous post, my only requests were to get an epidural, and to get the baby out. Although the baby is in fact out, it didn't happen in the almost pain-free method that I had so been looking forward to.
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.
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
It's A Girl!
I am pleased and exhausted to announce the birth of our baby girl, who arrived at 8:47 am on Friday July 4th. Her blog name is yet to be determined, and I'm too tired to give you the whole story, so I'll leave you with this pic for now and promise you the full story later: 
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Nope.
No baby yet. I have opted to be induced on Friday if nothing happens by then. I wasn't sure if I liked the idea of being induced, but then I found out that it was typically done between 6 and 8am, which works well with getting some sleep before hand. It also saves me having my water break in the middle of a pool party like last time. No, I wasn't in the pool, thank goodness. Too gross to contemplate. I still don't feel anxious to start up the whole newborn routine, but my body is certainly ready to evict the critter. Not that I was ever "glowing", but now I'm all grunts and groans. There just isn't any more space, and there are no comfortable positions to be found.
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.
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
Babies, Retirement, and Renovation (Oh My!)
First off, no baby yet. my due date isn't until July 1st, and I'm planning on holding off until the 3rd so my kids will have the same birthday. I had my hair cut and highlighted on Friday, so I'm ready to go, but I'm also enjoying these last peaceful moments of life with just one child. I am loosely using the word, "peaceful", but I know that it will seem peaceful in comparison to life as it is about to become. BTW, thanks you for all the lovely compliments on my last post. I wasn't fishing for flattery, but I'll take it regardless.
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.
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
I Think I Control the Weather
I realize that I only have a small sample size to deduce such an egotistical claim from, but the last time I saw crazy-ass weather like this in Toronto was the summer of 2005, aka, the summer that Pumpkin was born. Given that I am only one week away from birthing another child, I have concluded that every time I bring a child into this world, we are going to be subject to violent rain and thunderstorms. I'm not sure what the gods are trying to say. Nonetheless, we will now stop at two children just to save the city from future leaky roofs and basements. Currently, it is hailing in my neighbourhood, with a side of thunder and lightning. It did the same thing yesterday. Last summer it was so dry that I couldn't even grow dandelions. This summer, I'm recommending that our provincial flower be switched to mushrooms, and am declaring my yard to be the original breeding ground. I'm not complaining though. I love anything that saves me having to water the garden, even if all I can grow is fungus.
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?
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
On a More Positive Note...
Ok, that was enough complaining. Thank you all for your words of support, but I shouldn't abuse your compassion. I'm ok, really. My bad days are probably better than many people's good days. As for the fatigue, hey, it gets me sympathy! Who doesn't like a good dose of that? Aside from all your comments, my mom and husband don't let me do much of anything now. If the phone rings, I just look at one of them and the phone is brought to me. If I don't make dinner, no one dares to comment. If Pumpkin needs something and I'm not the only one here to help, it becomes not my problem. When the cleaning lady is here (see, I told you my life is pretty good), I no longer feel guilty enough to get off my butt to do laundry, groceries, or a pre-clean. I can just sit there and look justified in doing so
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!)
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
I Don't Wanna Play Anymore
I don't really like to complain and rant, given my half-assed attempt at working the "Secret", but I am spent. It's over. There's nothing left. I know it's not news that being 38 weeks pregnant is tiring, but OMG it's tiring! With my last pregnancy at this stage in the game, I started my maternity leave and went home to just lie there for a while. Not really an option this time. Pumpkin is really, REALLY trying my patience today, or at least it seems as though she is. I just put her down for a nap and am praying that it lasts 3 hours. We had an early birthday party for her on the week-end given that I'll probably be in labour on her actual birthday, and I'm thinking that we overstimulated her. On a positive note, it was a pretty good party. Pumpkin doesn't have many friends since she hasn't been to school yet, so I just invited close friends and family of mine who came with an assortment of kids from age three to ten. Somehow, they all ended up playing together, which was unexpected. Nonetheless, I now have an overtired, over-spoiled kid who isn't listening. I also have a very nervous dog who was frazzled by all the people and the subsequent thunderstorms of the week-end, who now won't leave my side, and trips me up every time I turn around. I'm just too out of patience to deal with it today. Try me again tomorrow.
Monday, June 09, 2008
We Can't ALL Be Philosophers!
I've come to the conclusion that in the realm of motherhood, I am not the deepest person that you will ever meet. I'm not an idiot or anything - actually I consider myself to be quite intelligent. It just seems that I don't analyze many things beyond their surface levels unless I absolutely force myself to. I reached this conclusion after reading the posts of many "mommy bloggers" who have been as close to the birth of a child as I am, and who have made some very emotional blog entries on the subject.
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?
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
More of Reno 2008
Did I mention that we had the new floor installed? It isn't going to be sanded/stained until everything else in the room is done, but the raw floor is here, and has been for about a week now. This week in family room renovations, things have been happening behind the scenes. The carpenter is still working on cabinets in his shop, and I finalized some colour choices today. Last week-end's plastering didn't happen, but hopefully things will resume this week-end. If not, all bets are off. Still racing the baby clock over here, but apparently it is to no avail, because aside from the threat of things being delayed in construction, my mom is now predicting an early labour, based on ??? Actually, she is basing it on how violent the baby seems to be these days. It's as if it's practicing martial arts or something. That widget on the right where you see a calm baby floating around with lots of room- not so accurate. I'm not sure that kung fu punches are indicative of the baby wanting out sooner than later, but that's ma's prediction.
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
Freedom of Summer Past
A few of the bloggers that I read have made mention of the beginning of summer vacation for their school-age children, and are busy making plans to keep the kids busy for the next two months or so. Back in my day, my mom made plans for my summer holidays to an extent, but once my older brother turned the legal age for babysitting, I think 12, we were pretty much left to do our own thing. There really wasn't a lot of choice for a single mother of two, who didn't have the resources to send us to camp for the whole summer. Some will argue that times were different back then, and maybe they were, but I have always been proud/smug/amazed at how independent we were at ages 9 and 12, due to the amount of rope we were given to hang ourselves with.
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.
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
Reno 2008
Theoretically, that header should read, "Reno 2006", but these things take time. Now that it is underway, however, things are just motorin' along. A lot has happened since the demolition. The carpenter has spent some time here doing tons of measurements and installing brackets; The electricians have been and gone, and we now have everything roughed in that is supposed to be, including a groovy looking conduit to meet our AV needs; and hubby's best friend, D, has been here doing some patching and plastering of the Swiss-cheese ceiling that the electricians left us with. More plastering will take place tomorrow. There is a floor scheduled for installation on Thursday of this week, but it may be delayed if D is still here making a mess. D and the floor guy are friends, so they coordinate well together. Meanwhile, the carpenter is working on cabinets in his shop, so it appears that everything is coming together. Do my skeptics want to change their bets that the baby will be here before the reno is completed? Hmmmm? I'm personally feeling the love, and think that the reno may be completed first. Dreamer? Maybe, but I AM workin' The Secret, so I'm going for gold.
The room towards the end of last week
At this point, I quite like having my home under construction. My mom was saying that it is important not to let the whole house fall into a state of disarray in the wake of the construction, but I personally feel that it's a perfect excuse to have a messy house. I now make no apologies when people come in and trip over toys in the foyer, or when they have to climb over an arm chair to get through a doorway. Much of my life will be spent keeping my place tidy, but a renovation excuses me from the pressure of it all. This actually reminds of a post over at Part of Everything, who put more effort into decorating her dollhouse than most people spend on their real houses. Whenever there was an unfinished room in the dollhouse, she put out miniature tools and paint cans, which represented being under construction, thus she was excused from having that part of the house looking pristine. Pure genius.
In addition to seeing the positive side of a destroyed family room, I have also managed to find the positive in being 8 months pregnant. No muffin top! All the slack and waistband spillage that Pumpkin left me with has been picked up by my unborn child, and everything is firm again. Isn't that great?!!! Well, it's something.
Friday, May 23, 2008
My Life is So F*cking Glamorous
My female dog has spay incontinence. That means that as a result of being spayed, she doesn't produce enough estrogen for proper bladder control. We control it with drugs, that periodically need some adjusting. One becomes aware of the need for such adjusting when one steps in a puddle in one's home. Sitting in a puddle can be just as likely, hence the recent disposal of that couch that no one wanted. So last night at 11pm, I discovered a puddle, and shampooed the rug, which I guess is just part of pet ownership.
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!
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
My Demolition
I feel hungover today, and all I did last night was watch people drink. It's going to be a long six weeks. I can't believe that at the same stage with my last pregnancy, I managed to pack up a house and move. I can barely move myself around this week-end. Bitch, complain, whine, moan.....
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:
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
Bits and Pieces
First off, thank you all for your show of concern for my bleeding eyeball. The bleeding has stopped, and everything will return to normal soon enough. It's still very red though. Pumpkin just noticed it today for the first time. She seemed very concerned, so I will return to wearing sunglasses during her waking hours. The only real problem is that it looks pretty gross, so I am requesting that no one look me in the eye for at least another week. Stare at my chest instead, ok?
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!
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
It's All Fun and Games Until....
I can't believe no one wanted the couch! Not to worry though - it has been hauled to Goodwill by the fine men who demolished my family room this past week. More on that later, but first, an interruption in the week-end with a visit to the ER.
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?
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
Free Couch!
Serious Offer!Down filled.
Doesn't smell very good.
Cushions can be machine washed but take four days to dry.
You pick it up. (Thornhill, ON)
Dogs not included
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