Monday, April 28, 2008

Drive-by bullets

  • In developing our vegetable garden, we dug up an old family pet. (Note: this was not our pet, but one left behind by previous owners!) So gross. The smell was indescribable. Sorry to fluffy for disturbing your resting place. And to his owners - bury your animals more than a foot in the ground please! And not in the middle of the yard!
  • We are burning out. Adam is working insane hours to keep up with the number of clients, I am trying to lead three major projects at work and we're both trying to tidy up and renovate our house and garden with every spare minute. Too much. Note to self: Must have more down time.
  • I love our neighbours. They've been so helpful and friendly. This weekend we learned that the neighbours who abut our driveway are going to put in a small retaining wall along the edge to finish it! Wonderful! One less bill to worry about.
  • Little boys love to get dirty almost as much as they love getting clean. Hayden has gone from having 3 baths a week to having one every night. Partially out of need, partially out of desire!
  • I have the weirdest dreams. So real, so bizarre, so random. I could make a whole post on the rantings of my unconscious mind.
  • I love my husband. Last night, despite the fact that we were both exhausted and dirty, he convinced me to have a very romantic evening. At first I was reluctant, but now I'm really glad that we went through with it. Those little moments really help to reconnect you and remind you of why we do all this!

Friday, April 25, 2008

The words of an angel

So Hayden is coming up on his 18 month doctor's visit. At every appointment she asks me how many words Hayden has. And every time I fumble and spit out a random number that probably isn't even close. So I decided I'd be more proactive for this next appointment and write down all of his words. In the last three days, I've come up with over 60 of them! For your entertainment, I thought I'd post my Top 10 favourite Hayden originals, complete with translation!
  1. Peeboo (peekaboo)
  2. Feh fi (French fry) <- Please don't ask why my baby knows what a french fry is!
  3. Coo (cool)
  4. Doo (dude) <- 3 and 4 usually go together!
  5. Ada (all done)
  6. Moe (more) <- This one always makes me think of a particular Simpson's episode
  7. Waygo? (Where’d it go?)
  8. Bebebes (blueberries) <- That's a hard one
  9. HEEPO (hippo) <- This one is always said at full volume with an emphasis on the O!
  10. Cracka (cracker) <- Just like a little white Chris Rock!

Take me out from the ball game!

So last night Adam had a baseball practice and Hayden and I decided to tag along. I had visions of Hayden cheering his daddy on from the sidelines and playing on swings and slides once the novelty rubbed off.

The daimond was at the university, which strangely doesn't have a play structure anywhere near it. (What do these college kids do for fun? Aren't they about 10 when they graduate high school now?!) So all there was to play with there were bits of garbage and a large, dangerously balanced pile of benches. Not exactly perfect for a toddler. Hayden constantly wanted to run out onto the field to hug his daddy and would scream like a banshee if I held him back. We lasted about an hour before I announced to Adam that practice was over. At that point Hayden was a screaming, thrashing mess in my arms and I was covered with boogers and dirt and water.

Lesson learned: my toddler finds baseball almost as exciting as I do. Next time, we'll just stay home.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

I hate molars!

That's it, I've had it with teeth! First my own have decided to deteriorate for the first time in 20 years. I have a cavity in one of my bottom molars. This forces me to face my greatest unreasonable fear: the dentist. I seriously get panic attacks at night thinking of the drilling and needles and scraping. Ugh.

And now, Mr. Hayden has decided it would be a good time to get some of his own molars. For those of you with toothless kids, count your blessings. Molars suck. My baby who used to sleep through the night peacefully is now getting up at all hours to scream and chew and gnaw on various parts of my body (hands, nursies, cheek, whatever piece of skin he can slip between those razor teeth). These days I feel like he's living on Motrin and I'm running on fumes. All I want to do right now is go back to bed. Just a few hours of uninterrupted sleep please!

Molars suck. Give me a self-refilling shark smile any day.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008


Do you hear that? Neither do I!

The peace and quiet at our new house is absolutely blissful. Since I moved out of my parents house, I've lived in six different houses. Four of them were in Ottawa and subject to the blaring horns, sirens and loud music of my neighbours. One was in a tiny town called Greely which would have been very peaceful were it not for my landlord living next door. When we moved to Cambridge, we inadvertently moved into the ghetto (it's amazing what a dusting of pure white snow can hide) and with it came lots of barking dogs, blaring stereos, shouting matches and cheap cars with REALLY LOUD mufflers!

We moved to our very first house last November and I guess I just expected it would be just as noisy. Through the winter, I was sure that our noisy neighbours were just hibernating and once the snow melted, all hell would break loose. But to my delight, it hasn't! All I hear at night and in the morning are birds twittering. It's so darn quiet! Most of our neighbours are retired and let me tell you, retired folks rock! I love our big blue house even more now that I know it comes with neighbourhood soundproofing! I never knew how much I loved silence until I actually experienced it! Sad that it's taken 10 years to find a quiet piece of heaven, but let me tell you how thankful I am that we did.

Cheers to everyone who makes the effort to be quiet, conscientious neighbours. Let's just hope it lasts!

Monday, April 14, 2008

Mother knows best.

I've discovered as of late, that I am an unconventional mama by western standards. Hayden is now almost a year and a half and he still nurses. It's trickled down to a few times a day now that I'm back at work, but we still enjoy some peaceful, cuddly moments in the morning and evening.

Now I'm perfectly fine with this arrangement. It allows me to eat what I want without gaining weight, gives Hayden some extra nutrition and fat and it gives us a special bonding time. What disturbs me about it is society's perception of our daily ritual. Somehow, those of us north of the equator have established bizarre guidelines for rearing our children. Strange ideas like: children must sleep alone, boys can only play with "boy toys," babies have to learn to self-soothe by crying themselves to sleep, nursing should only occur for the first year - tops. All very foreign ideals to me.

Hayden slept in our bed for the first year of his life. He didn't sleep one night in a crib until after his first birthday. And I don't regret a single minute of it. He now confidently falls asleep and sleeps 12 hours a night in his own bed without needing me. I think that knowing I'm always there for him when he needs me gives him the reassurance that he can do it on his own.

And as far as nursing past a year - it's the most wonderful thing to nurse a toddler. I was one of those naysayers before I had Hayden. I thought that if a child could walk up and ask for nursing, that child was too old to get it. But now I understand. I understand that with a busy boy, it gives you 10 minutes to just rest and cuddle. I understand that when owies happen, nursing is the best way to make it better. I understand that children have their own cycles and their own needs and you just have to listen. They will tell you when they're ready for a change.

The strangest idea of all for me is our stereotyping of what little boys and girls can play with. I got more than a few sideways glances when I bought Hayden his own kitchen. It didn't seem to matter that helping me in the real kitchen is one of his favourite things. While it seemed perfectly rational to me to offer him his own culinary space, I was barraged with statements that I might be effeminizing my son, turning him gay. Bullsh*t is all I have to say. If Hayden is going to be gay, he'll be gay. Buying him a kitchen is not going to change his genetics. And if he does turn out to be gay, he'll probably appreciate that his mum accepted him for who he was even before he had any idea of sexuality.

This is how I'm raising my son - by listening to his needs and guiding him when necessary. I'm not raising a spoiled child, but one who feels that his opinions and preferences count for something. I believe that his needs are way more important than society's views on what we should be doing. It sure doesn't hurt anyone else if we nurse for a few more months.

So to all you naysayers and those of you who just can’t help but give a mother your opinion on how she’s raising her child, just stop for a minute before you speak and consider that age-old adage, mother really does know best.


Just a little FYI for my loyal readers (whoever you are). I've updated my settings so that you can comment on any of my blogs without having a special account. Hopefully this will inspire you to tell me a little about yourself or what you think of my posts. It's lonely to blog without feedback...

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Bed bug!

Hayden and I have both been sick this past week with strep and scarlet fever (ya, I know, who the heck gets scarlet fever outside of novels from the 1800's). When Hayden gets sick, he gets clingy. Very clingy. And so, for the past week, he's slept more in our bed than he has in his own.

At first, I resented this little invader with his flailing limbs and persistent seeking out of nursies. I resented not having the freedom to flip over when my side was sore or being able to get up and pee without slithering out of the bed onto the floor like a liquid blob.

But then the other night he reminded me of why we had this co-sleeping arrangement for a whole year. He was having a particularly bad night and refused to even entertain the thought of going to sleep in his crib. And so I slung him on my hip and he kept me company while I got ready for bed. We climbed under the covers and instead of his usual giggling pleas for nursies, he climbed on top of my chest, flopped down so all four limbs were dangling to my tickly sides and promptly fell asleep.

I lay there for a minute, sure that he was just storing up energy for a melt-down before I realized that his breathing had become deep and even. And it was at that moment, as I kissed his wispy hair and breathed in his signature smell, that I remembered just how much I love holding him in my arms as we sleep. So I snuggled the heck out of him all night. And I'll keep snuggling him when he asks for it. I never want to think back and wistfully say "I wish I'd just held him more often. You know, back when he wanted to be held"

I love that Hayden is a cuddly child. I love that by hearing my heartbeat and feeling my breath, he calms and feels secure. I love that he still likes to sleep with his mama sometimes. These days are fleeting - soon enough he'll be taller than me and telling me how uncool I am. Till then, I'll keep him as my favourite little bed bug.