Wish, Wait, Hope, Pray

I know a lot of you are nearing the time when birth announcements are something to think about, so I thought I’d share our experience.  If you haven’t already read my Spilt Milk Moms post on announcements you should check it out!

In the end we chose a design by Littlestar Greetings and I couldn’t be happier with the results. They were amazing to work with – turns out all the photos we liked were portrait but the design called for landscape, after going backwards and forwards with my designer Jo-Anne I was ready to pay the extra fee to change designs when they suggested we just turn the design into a portrait layout. Absolutely BRILLIANT! It looks fabulous and they saved me money – which is wonderful customer service. I know Trea (Spilt Milk Moms) used them for her birth announcements as well and we have another friend who used them and she also raves about them. This is a great Canadian company and I highly recommend them!

So without further ado… here is our announcement:

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Our First Hockey Game

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I was going to write today about a great article in the Wall Street Journal blog about a study Husbando that claims more housework equals more sexbut it will have to wait because I’m on limited time and I’m PISSED OFF.

You’ve probably heard or noticed all the 80’s toys that are making a comeback recently – from Care Bears to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles everything old is new again. And as I have a little redheaded daughter I was getting TRES excited at the thought that Strawberry Shortcake was on the revival train. Until now. Check this shit out:

Are you f@!king kidding me? In the picture on the left she is a GIRL in the picture on the right she is some coquettish teen-aged Ho. This is apparently in line with the new makeovers for the “Tween” lines. And trust me – nothing is sacred.

Check out the new Rainbow Brite:

In case you’ve forgotten here’s what they used to look like:

What the hell has happened to CHILDhood? If I remember correctly (and it has been a long time it hasn’t been THAT frickin’ long) I played with Strawberry Shortcake when I was 5 – 7. By 9 she had already given way to other pursuits (including pretending I was the Courtney Cox character on Misfits of Science) and my sister got a Rainbow Brite doll for her 5th birthday – there was nothing Tween about us. We were little girls playing with little girl toys. As Michael K of the blog Dlisted says “Rainbow Brite used to look like an adorable roly poly girl, and now she looks like a chick who will try to give you a light show with her glow sticks while you’re rolling on E at a rave.” Not exactly a role model I want my daughter emulating.

Hell, if Mom101 is being pitched Dora Perfume then truly it must be a sign of the coming apocalypse. Abandon hope all ye who enter parenthood! What I want to know is what the hell can I do about it? I want my daughter to grow up to be strong, independent and not constantly checking herself out in the mirror. I want her to be worried about smarts and talent and not believe that how she looks ultimately will get her where she wants to go. Now I know that as her mom I need to set the leading example but really? How many of us really wanted to be our moms growing up? I want her to have positive role models in her toys so she can create imaginary play that will lead to and foster her dreams – and I want it to go beyond lip gloss and struggling with math.

These make-overs need do-overs in my opinion but how do I make that heard? What do you do for your daughters? Do you have positive role model toys for them? What can we, as grown, intelligent, strong women do about this?

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Yesterday I had my first irrational mom breakdown. And it sucked.

I’ve been incredibly tired lately, probably the overall compounding of sleeplessness kicking my ass. I do ok on a day-to-day basis but I’m starting to feel like all the little sleepless spots are joining together to form a giant sleepless cloud that may take over Emily-ville at any minute. Which makes me feel decidedly not like myself. So I decided I need to find something that will take me not only out of the house (because I do get out a fair bit) but also away from my roles as mother and wife. I need something that will remind me of who Emily the person is. See I never expected, or even wanted, to be the same person after I had a child. I think its kinda weird when someone has a kid and it changes absolutely nothing about them  (like they were never that human after all) so I knew it would change me. At the same time I don’t want to be one of those moms who’s entire life is absorbed by her children and she no longer exists as anything other than “Mommy”. My own mother was like that and I fully understand the pressure it puts on your children if all of your validation, if your entire life’s purpose, only comes from your kids (and trust me no kid can ever live up to that expectation!) So I decided to find something I liked or wanted to try and I’d do that.

A couple of weeks ago I was at a baby fair and came across a dance studio that offers a ton of adult classes. As I was scanning the schedule and contemplating the options (“hmmm ballet sounds nice but I’m not sure anyone wants to see me in a pink leotard right now”, “there’s no way I’m coordinated enough for hip hop”, etc…) I noticed that they offered musical theatre classes on a Sunday afternoon. BRILLIANT! I love musical theatre but haven’t done it in AGES and Husbando is almost guaranteed to be around on a Sunday so child care wouldn’t be an issue and what do you know they have a cheap-ass special on classes booked in advance -booya!

As the weeks got closer to the class I got more and more excited – I constantly make up and sing songs for Little Miss and so I expanded my repertoire to include show tunes as a kind of warm up for the classes. And don’t get me started on Glee, I think I’m wearing out the PVR with all the rewinding and replaying of songs. My excitement was definitely mounting when I had a typical Emily thought – what should I wear? So I dropped the studio an email but never heard back. Then I called and left a message with both the studio and the adult class coordinator on Thursday to make sure the class was still on but she never got back to me.

So yesterday Husbando was working and Little Miss and I had a busy morning of a Spilt Milk Mom meeting followed by errands and in the evening we had a sports award dinner to go to with Husbando. I was about to start getting ready when I realized that I still hadn’t heard back about the class so I decided to call the studio (again) to see what was going on. After several attempts someone answered and after my questions she quickly stated that the musical theatre classes shouldn’t have been on the adult schedule and the class was really for 9 – 15 year olds. And then she hung up.

I started getting Little Miss ready to go to the dinner but she was very fussy (she’s started teething oh joy of joys!) so it was a combination of half dressing her and half feeding her. Then I tried putting her in her bouncy chair as I tried to get dressed. I’m at that weird place where my maternity clothes are generally too big or a bit too loose but because my shape has changed (hello thighs, soft belly and giant boobs) my pre-pregnancy clothes don’t fit entirely well either. After squeezing into my spanx and a pre-pregnancy wrap dress I thought I looked ok – then when I went to pick up a fussing Little Miss I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I realised looked awful. It looked like I was wearing clothes too small for me, my hair was a mess and I was ashen. I sat down on the bed to try and placate Little Miss and all of a sudden hot tears started streaming down my face. I couldn’t stop crying – I was so angry and frustrated that this one little tiny thing I was trying to do for myself had been snatched away from me. I was angry that they had never bothered to call me back and let me go when I first asked about the class a couple of weeks ago – how stupid would I have felt as a 34 year old, post-partum woman showing up to a class full of pre-teens? I was also angry with myself at how badly I need this break but also devastated because I, like so many moms, don’t ask for a lot and don’t take a lot for my/our selves, and this was going to be my tiny escape, my saviour from being swallowed by other people’s needs and wants.

Eventually I pulled myself together. I spoke to Husbando and told him that Little Miss and I weren’t going to go to the dinner. I wasn’t overly enthusiastic about it to start with, my dress had already given way to sweats and I was exhausted. The thought of having to keep Little Miss quiet and small talk with people I hardly knew whilst Husbando got drunk made me want to cry even more. In the end she and I stayed home, ordered Chinese and watched movies. I realized I needed to put myself before his dinner and I’m glad I did. I need to make sure I carve more time out for myself regularly. I’ve already looked for more adult dance classes locally but most of them are ballet so I’ll either keep looking or wait till I’ve lost a bit more weight. I’m not really sure what else I can do right now but I know I need something. What do you do to make some space for your non-mom, non-wife self?

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Yesterday…

Yesterday we had two firsts – I left Little Miss with Husbando for almost 3 hours while I went and ran some errands. It was crazy hard, way harder than I imagined it would be to be honest. I have made little goals in my head about leaving her for certain amounts of time ( 1 – 2 hours in the first month, 2 – 3 in the second, etc) because I don’t want to turn around and be that mum who’s child is 4 and she’s never been away from them for more than a couple of hours. I also think its uber important that Husbando feels comfortable with all aspects of childcare and he’s only going to become confident if I give him opportunity to try. So I left and became a very anxious grocery shopper whose boobs tingled and ached but I did it and, despite the separation anxiety, I’m so glad I did.

I also worked out with weights yesterday. Oh dear god I am so weak! I LOVE working out with weights – especially my upper body but because of the pneumonia its probably been over a year since I have so it was…ummm… interesting? I’m incredibly weak, my abs and arms hurt already today but I managed to squeeze the time in and taking care of myself can only be a good thing.

Today…

Today is our Canniversary. We’ve been in Canada for two very long, very hard years. We’ve given up a lot in being here – careers (which I miss more than anything), friends, travel opportunities, culture, pubs, family and great, affordable fashion options. We haven’t had the best luck since we got here either – bad financial advice, difficulty finding work, sudden unemployment, a leaky roof (x2), pay cuts, pneumonia, lost travel documents, a car that completely broke down 3 months after buying it, a burst water pipe – the list goes on. So when we sat down to discuss going back I was pretty sure it was going to be a no-brainer and I would be buying the tickets in a matter of minutes. But it hasn’t worked out that way. We’ve decided to stay (gluttons for punishment or some such thing!) In 12 – 18 months Husbando can apply for citizenship and it would be stupid for us not to do that, especially as one, if not two, of his children will have Canadian citizenship. We also have something here that we could never have in the UK – a very, very amazing group of friends who all live within 10 minutes of us. There are 4 other couples, all close by who have children under the age of two. If we need something we can rely on each other, our friends in the UK are so spread out this would never happen and although I’m sure we could make other friends I have history with some of these friends going back over 13 years and we wouldn’t have that. So we’re here to stay, which, more than anything means that I need to make peace with the decision. Our little suburb (hell all of Vancouver) is never going to beat London but the life we’re building for ourselves here can be better than the life we had there. So I’m working on changing my mindset. I love the person I was in London and I just need to figure out how to make her exist here. I need to stop looking back constantly, to keep comparing and wishing. I need to look towards…

Tomorrow.

Ever since we made the decision to stay things have started to change slightly. Husbando got a part time job that allows us to pay the mortgage, but also as it’s part time it allows him to pursue camera work (and he’s been getting more work – including interviews with the Twilight cast the other day, although he had no idea who they all were!) He’s also has been contracted to a production company for the Olympics, which if it works out could mean pretty solid work for all of February & March which would be amazing. We’ve also had a change of luck with teh charitable project we worked on – after being told that the payment that he had agreed to defer wasn’t going to be paid we recently received two cheques that pay his rate in full, removing the negative taint we had been left with.

I’ve decided to take a musical theatre class – it will give Husbando & Little Miss some time together during the week and provide me with a child and husband free afternoon to do something specifically for myself, which I am so looking forward to.

I very much believe that life supplies you with signposts along the way if you are headed in the right (or wrong) direction. One of my arguments for moving back to the UK was that with all the negative things that had been happening to us since we arrived that they were signs for us to turn around and go back but I think in truth my negative attitude was really reading the signs on the other side of the road and I truly hope that the rash of positive things that have happened since we made the decision are the signposts of encouragement. I don’t fully know what I am looking for here or how I can reconcile the Emily I was there with the Emily here but I do know that, for the next couple of years at least, I want our life here to be the best that it can be. So you’re all stuck with me now – for better or worse!

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Yesterday the stunning and pregnant Bloorb emailed me to ask me about my experience with bottles and then breastpads and as she found the info so helpful I thought some of you might as well so here we go with my thoughts and assvice:

Bottles:

I am breastfeeding 99% of the time but we wanted to introduce a bottle early so Husbando could do the odd feed (so he could be involved as well as get me some of that sweet sweet sleep) and as we’ve watched friends leave bottle introduction so late they could never convince their babies to take a bottle (thereby chaining themselves to the boob and zero separation) we decided to introduce one when we could breastfeed with our eyes closed (which was about 6 weeks old)

I have some glass bottles, they’re by Wee*Go:. I like them better than the Dr Brown ones but we tend not to use them because they are WAY too big for us. (But don’t they look cool?)

I have been using the small ones from Green to Grow and I love them because of their size and they have 2 different neck sizes (I think ours is the wider one). They are plastic but are BPA free and not clear which is apparently all good. The smaller sizes are fantastic for how often we use a bottle!

And… because I was writing for Milk Bank they gave me a Milk Bank Storage System complete with bottles and the insulated bottle. I LOVE it. For starters I like the idea of vacuum packing the milk to keep it fresh but I also love the small size bottles (2.5oz/4.5oz) – there are a few more pieces here but I love it – especially for freezing.

I often pump and freeze some in the Milk Bank containers and keep the fresh in the Green to Go for more immediate use.

But here’s the thing, which bottle is best probably depends a lot on your kid. We’re supplementing occasional feedings with a bottle so the large ones are a massive waste for us, plus she cluster feeds in the evening so she eats little and often and reheating one of the large bottles continually would suck. If you were formula feeding or if you’re putting your baby on a schedule then the larger ones would be better but we definitely find we have less wastage with the small sizes (and having to pump less is good – trust me!) Unless you’re planning on bottle feeding straight out of hospital I would suggest picking up one smaller size (4.5/5.5oz) in a brand you like and then seeing how you get on, and if he likes that type of bottle, I know some kids definitely take some brands better than others. (If you do have trouble with him taking a bottle try these ones by Adiri – the boob like shape is supposed to be great for trouble eaters!)

Breastpads:

I started with Lansinoh ones and I HATE them. They are thin, papery and it takes very little milk before they stink. I really like Johnson & Johnson ones which are much softer, thicker, have a little nipple dent and are more comfortable. Def think they’re the best disposables (I had a bunch of other samples I tried too but nothing of note).

I was given some fabric ones a week or so ago and I really like them. I only have 3 pairs so I’m planning to get another 3 or 4 pairs to make it easier. When buying them look for the ones with the seams that make a little point for you nipple – the plain flat ones are kinda weird. I tend to wear disposable ones at night right now because the cloth ones get cold when they’re wet and I never know how much I’ll leak at night!

Hope that helps!

xoxo

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I’m reviewing the tres sexy and stylish Hot Milk line of underthings over at Spilt Milk Moms right now. Crazy nice – go see!

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Someone please tell me it gets easier with regards to time management?

Ok so things have been crazy lately… the in-laws finally left after their month long visit (a month is WAY too long to have your in-laws live with you – nuff said) and I’m trying to catch up on the pile of paperwork and unresponded to emails I have lurking around, not to mention cleaning and trying to get back in shape. All this means I am a crazy lady who’s blog is not a major priority right now. Buuuuuuut I do have so much I want to share with you – recipes, ideas and answers to the questions that have been hanging over our heads to be answered on October 1st.

I slowly am feeling like I am getting better at getting things done and it will be a massive relief when I don’t have all this paperwork and follow-up to do (which, btw includes her birth certificate which is wrong because the BC government list your maiden name as your last name on the birth certificate, despite asking you your actual last name and never telling you that’s what they are going to do but as I changed my name to include my maiden name as a middle name my name on her birth certificate reads Emily – Middle Name – Maiden Name – Maiden Name which is plain stupid). I will be out from the paperwork hopefully later this week!

Little Miss also has confirmed her porker status by weighing in at 12lbs 2oz last week at 6 weeks old – LOL! Ma bebe LOVES her food!

And there she is waking up on the other end of the monitor – I must run but I want you to know that I do miss you all and I am hoping to be back on form very shortly!

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So, I had a pretty scary experience yesterday. I fell down. hard. With Little Miss in my arms.

It was incredibly weird – I had been feeding her whilst sitting on the couch and got up to head to the kitchen (where I was baking bread – domestic much?)  I took a step and when I went to take another one it was as if someone had removed my right leg all together. It was so weird – I felt nothing where my leg should be but time slowed down and I knew I was falling. Little Miss was in my left arm and in the beginning my arms started to fly out to break my fall but in a split second I realised that would have meant dropping her so they cradled her to my body and I hit the ground with my knee and then my face and head. My arm followed just behind and as my head bounced back up I saw Little Miss’ head bounce over my arm and hit the ground. Absolutely horrible.

I tried to get up but couldn’t put any pressure on my leg and Little Miss was crying, I was crying and I had no idea what to do. I pushed myself along the floor till I could reach the phone on the coffee table and I called 911. While I was on with them (they were great and def kept me calmer than I felt) I was able to slip Little Miss onto my breast to feed and thankfully she calmed right down.

Within 5 – 10 minutes the paramedics arrived and examined Little Miss and thankfully she was declared absolutely fine. We were to keep an eye on her in case things developed but she looked perfectly fine to them. By this time I had the feeling back in my leg so they helped me up and checked me over – bruised knee, hip and elbow and a fat, bloody lip but no obvious reason for the collapse so I had the choice of them taking me to emergency or seeing my family doctor. I probably should have chosen the ER but I would have been there as a non-emergency emergency and the thought for 8 plus hours in the ER with a 6 week old was not exactly pleasant – so I’ve made a Dr’s appointment and we’ll see what he says. The day before I’d gone for a 3k walk (as part of my push to get into shape) and the paramedics mentioned I could still have relaxin in my system and perhaps my loose joints caused the fall. Hopefully the Dr will have a better idea.

I’m ok today – bit of a head ache, very bruised and my top lip looks like I’ve had collagen implants but it could have been much worse (Little Miss is smilier than ever so I can tell she’s fine). This parenthood gig is weird. I know its different for everyone but I wasn’t overcome with emotion when Little Miss was born -no crying or overwhelming feeling of “she’s mine” (more just elation that the birth was over, exhaustion, relief and wonder), and there are times during the sleepless nights when I wonder if I’ll ever feel more connected to her. I’ve wondered sometimes if I actually love her and have questioned if as I don’t feel an overwhelming, tears-in-my-eyes, full-on love for her that in some way I’m not a good mother, or I’m too distant – yesterday changed all of that for me. She was my first thought in the fall and I chose protecting her over protecting myself. It was instinctive and so deep within me it was like I couldn’t have behaved any other way. My love for my child is just that – like my love for husbando in that it isn’t overly present in a gooey, syrupy sense but in the potential for more and the potential for loss. Its in the moments that take my breath away as well as the everyday and as she sits next to me right now in her little bouncy chair kicking and moving her hands, cooing, smiling and pulling faces at me I know, more than ever that I truly am her mother.

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