Feb 29, 2012

whats-in-the-news wednesday

OK, I was going to do my typical what's-in-the-news post and the first article I came across was titled "10 Things Never To Do To a Happy Baby"... so I'm thinking that it's going to say things like:

  • Don't drop a happy baby
  • Don't hit a happy baby
  • Don't, basically, do anything to a happy baby - why mess with a good thing

Instead, it had a really nice list of things that all of us our guilty of doing, or nearly doing, at one time or another.

Here's my version of the list. It's the NOT-TO-DO list.

1. When your child falls asleep in the car, start singing loudly. Yell. Clap. Wiggle their legs aggressively. Honk the horn and swerve. Do whatever you can to keep them awake because you know they won't nap as long in the car as they will at home. In truth, I've pretty much actually done this because it's partially true. But, maybe, not recommended and definitely not intended to keep a child happy. 
2. Check your child's diaper regularly throughout the night. Anytime it's wet, or even damp, turn on the lights, give 'um and shake to wake 'um up and change that nasty diaper. It might take them an hour to fall back to sleep and you'll be exhausted for the first three years of their life, but it's definitely the best way to avoid diaper rash. 
3. Make sure that your child knows the correct way to colour a picture. If he or she deviates outside the lines or uses tries to use a blue crayon to colour Elmo, immediately take the crayons away and show him how it's done. In fact, lead by example all together and never let your child colour - you should be the only one doing the colouring until they understand how to do it properly. Creative expression is over rated.

4. If you've paid money for an expensive child show, exhibition, movie or amusement park, you keep your darn child there until closing time, tears or no tears. Get your money's worth. This is an important life lesson. 
5. Add salt, cheese or ketchup to your child's food without asking - every kid needs more sugar, salt and fat. They are part of the important building blocks of strong bones - like calcium and protein. 
6. When your child drops her beloved blankie or stuffed animal on the ground, freak out and throw it in the garbage in front of them. The ground is dirty and our children should be protected from every possible particle of dirt - this includes germs. Never let your child touch anything, ever. If, by God, they touch something like, dear Lord no, the handle of the Walmart shopping cart - immediately grab the Purell out of your purse and dunk them in it. Try to avoid the eyes, if possible. 
7. If your child seems completely comfortable and content, this is the time to adjust his pants or his t-shirt because it's not looking right. Tighten the belt, do up all the buttons, zip his chin in his jacket. Perfect. Well done. It's more important to look good than it is to be happy. 
8. See above. Also the perfect time to pull out the comb and pull it through that knot-ridden hair. This feels so good to kids, they love it. If you really want to win big, let them hang their head out the window while you drive for a few minutes, then bring out the comb. Try hard to avoid unnecessary things like detangler and gentleness as well. 
9. When your child is struggling with a puzzle or, in fact, struggling with anything... take over. Send them off to do something easier and finish the puzzle yourself. Kids have to learn that when life gets tough, you walk the heck away and let someone else solve your problems. 
10. Your preschool daughter prances out of her room in an outfit worthy of a circus performer. Tell her she looks like ridiculous, mock her a little, laugh out loud and then put her in the nice outfit your mother bought her from Gymboree. Implement a new rule - no picking out your own clothes until you move out of the house. You'll appreciate this rule more when she's 16. 

Happy Leap Year Day! :)

Feb 28, 2012

bedtime routines

It's 7:34pm in the Ellenberger house and, as usual, Jane has just gone to sleep. All is quiet. No one is crying. No one is yelling. No kicking. No screaming. Dan and I are sitting on the couch - he with a glass of wine, me with my laptop - relaxing.

Up until pre-Christmas, Jane's bedtime used to be 6:30pm. She'd go to sleep at 6:30pm and sleep until 6:30am. Including a 1.5-2 hour nap during the day. This was great but also hard. It was great to have so much time to ourselves at the end of the day but also hard to only get an hour or so with Jane after work/daycare before bedtime.

When the time changed in November, we went through a transition stage... that. was. hell. Jane started waking up at 4am. Every. Morning. I was in my first trimester. It wasn't pretty. I was literally, waking up with her, putting on the tv, and falling asleep while she snuggled in my arms. Falling asleep while my child was awake next to me watching tv. Mom of the year.

We stuck with everything for a while, unchanged, waiting to see if it was a phase that would pass. But, at Christmas, we ended up moving her bedtime to 7:30pm and, after a week or so of adjustment, she started sleeping until 6:30 am again. THANK. GOD. Dan said we needed to do it for me more than Jane. Apparently I'm not nice when I'm tired.

Here's the thing. 6:30 or 7:30, the number one response I get from a lot of other moms when they find out how early Jane goes to bed is "oh my God, how do you get her to sleep so early?" Not in a bad way, in an envious way. It's usually followed by "______ won't go to bed until ____".

Here's how I do it.

I put Jane to bed at 7:30 pm. Every night. No questions asked.

I don't wait for her to look tired. I don't ask her if she's ready for bed. I don't let time slip away from me. She is in her bed at 7:30 pm. The end. If she doesn't fall asleep right away (which happens extremely, extremely rarely), she does not come back downstairs. She stays in her bed. That's it.

Part of our success in this (I say our, cause Dan's truly a parent in my house too) is routine. Ever since the DAY - literally - Jane came home from the hospital, we started a routine with her. We did bathtime, boobtime and bedtime. We did it at the same time every night. Like I said. We didn't wait for her to look tired. I never did. Even when she napped during the day. We had a schedule. Now, at that point, she set the schedule. I'm not one of those crazy people who tries to put their newborn on a schedule. I'm not that anal or control-freaky - not that there's anything wrong with those of you who are. I let her set the schedule and then I stuck to her schedule. Every four weeks or so the schedule changed, it would take me a week to figure that out, and then we'd get back on it.

But bedtime never changed, no matter how screwed up naptimes might have been during the day.

So, what's our routine now? You'll be happy to know boobtime no longer occurs. :p

As time went on, the routine changed as our little baby turned into an infant and then a toddler. Bathtime, boobtime, bedtime was replaced by bathtime, bottletime, bedtime then bottletime, booktime, bedtime to what it is now quiettime, booktime and bedtime. We only do bath every other night in our house.

Usually at 6:45pm or so we start setting the stage. Whatever Jane is doing - playing, watching tv, whatever - I start telling her that it's almost time for bedtime and that she only has a few more minutes to play.

At 7pm, "it's bedtime"... we're upstairs. If it's bath night, we're in the bath - I still get in the bath with Jane because it's hilariously fun. If not, Jane has some quiet time (which is really just tv-free time) playing with my iPAD on my bed - doing puzzles, reading stories, etc. I don't like to let her watch tv right up until bedtime, I feel like it's too much stimulation. I'm not sure the iPAD is much better but Jane likes to do puzzles and listen to her nursery rhymes and such so it's just quieter and less "BLAH" in your face. At quarter after, we move to the bedroom. No lights on. Just a lamp. I've ALWAYS implemented this rule. It may seem obvious, but not to all. When it's bedtime (or nighttime wakings for those with newbies), lights are kept low. We read two stories - when I say this, I smile, because Jane tells me "I read two stories, like this" and she holds up her two fingers like a peace sign. Too cute.

Jane is SO invested in this routine that she will tell it to you. After you read the stories, she lies down. We tuck her in with her blankie, "turn on my music, big kisses, turn off my light" (that's Jane telling you her routine).

Sometimes I reinforce that when she wakes up she just needs to say "oh mommy, where are you?" and that she doesn't have to cry because "big girls don't cry when they wake up because mommy is always right outside the door"... I think it's important to teach your babes this or something similar. When our kids are babies, what do they do when they wake up to get your attention? They cry. They cry and we come. As they get older, if you don't teach them, somehow, that they don't need to cry and that they can get your attention another way, then what else are they gonna do but cry? We've taught Jane the "oh mommy" thing and it's hilarious. I wake up every morning laughing when she literally repeats, word for word, "oh mommy, where ARE YOU?" over and over in a happy girl voice.

Here's my second tip and it relates to big-girl (or boy) beds. We've never, ever, ever, ever, told Jane that she can get out of her bed when she wakes up. We've never said "if you wake up, you can get out of your bed and come get mommy" or "go play with your books until mommy comes in". I know that some parents like to do things this way and that's fine - oftentimes it's in an effort to get a bit more sleep which I can appreciate. For us, I feel like it's been a blessing. My concern, with teaching Jane it's ok to get out of bed, is that if she woke up throughout the night, she'd be getting out of bed and coming to our room... which, of course, could result in another challenging habit. Also, oftentimes, she'll make a few peeps early in the AM and then go back to sleep for another hour or so. Again, I'd be concerned she'd end up in our bed at that point. SO, for us, it worked best to implement the above "oh mommy" strategy and I get into her room as quickly as I can so that she doesn't get impatient and try to get out of bed by herself. I literally (maybe I'm crazy) don't even want her to know she has that option. :p

This has resulted in a good outcome for us in that, even in those rare times where she doesn't go to sleep right away (sometimes she sings for a little bit :p) or during those days where she has no interest in having a nap - she will stay in her bed and have some quiet time. She'll chat to herself or sing, and every one still gets some quiet time.

As always, I'm not saying my way is the highway. We do what works for us. These are the little things that we do that work for us. Maybe there's something there that can work for you - maybe you have something to share that works for you. Bring it on! :)

Happy sleeping!

Feb 27, 2012

i can't do it

I've been writing a post for an hour. I can't post it. It sucks.

I'm tired and grouchy and I just yelled at Dan for reading while I write over my shoulder.

THIS is pregnancy.

Anyone who tells you that you aren't grouchier, more emotional and all-in-all crazy during pregnancy is lying to you. They will probably also tell you that labour isn't that bad with the drugs and that being a parent is easy.

I sat here writing this stupid post that I've now tossed in the virtual garbage bin because I was trying too hard. Trying too hard to use my brain. It took me at least a minute to try to come up with the word I wanted to use that I couldn't remember, that once I remembered it, ended up being "encouragement". Blank slate.

Last night, I was so busy with my new project - which my initial post was about that sucked - that I didn't eat after supper. This is a both a tragedy and a success. I was pissed when I realized it was 9:30pm and I was exhausted and I hadn't eaten anything for a snack. Even though I wasn't hungry. SO, I had a piece of chocolate just to spite my metabolism. SCREW YOU METABOLISM - you will not win against my fight to put on excess wait!

Tonight. It's 8:10pm I'm literally minutes away from sleep and I'm stopping writing this crappy, useless post right now because I'm going to eat something unnecessarily because I just want to eat something. My moms in town and so, now, the combination of my husband and my mother has resulted in watching some business show on CBC that, at this point, is so far above my head, I have nothing better to do than suffer in silence and, perhaps, distract them with my tempting snack so they leave the room while I switch to TMZ.

I hope, for your sake, that tomorrow I can find something more interesting than spewing out the exact thoughts as they come into my brain to share with you.

Wishing you a delicious and calorie-rich, fat cell expanding, post-dinner, pre-bedtime snack. I don't want to "go down" by myself. It's always more fun to do something together.

Feb 24, 2012

18 weeks pregnant

This post got post-poned (I am so cool) to today due to Wednesday night's adventure.

I scheduled my 20 week ultrasound this week - March 14th! I'm nervous and excited and, of course, feeling like March 14th is as far away as cars that fly... For those of you from different areas, if you are considered a "normal" pregnancy, you only get one ultrasound here, at 20 weeks. Here's my issue/concern/problem with this... how do you know if I am having a normal pregnancy if you don't do an ultrasound until 20 weeks? I may not have bleeding, or cramps, or high blood pressure, or family history. But how does family history start? Don't get me going on this.

I have another scheduled doctors appointment next week. I'm dreading it for many reasons. One of which is the fact that at my last appointment, I'd put on 3.5 lbs and the doc tells me "it's a little more than we like to see" (I make a scrunched up, wiener face every time I say that cause it pisses me off). Um. Confession. At my last appointment, I was at 137.5lbs. I got on the scale a few days ago. 143lbs. Uh oh. Eeek. This is what's nuts about pregnancy. Within like a week I went from 139lbs to 143lbs. Like BAM! It may have something to do with the fact that I bought a 24 pack box of sour licorice straws a few weeks ago. Along with the cookies, chips, poptarts, etc. And, now I've written it all off. Thankfully, I've already recruited a friend for my post-baby weigh-in-wednesday program which is generally a failure but fun for you to read about. :p It's mostly me whining about how I'm trying to lose the post-baby weight... meanwhile, I'm sitting in front of the computer eating a king sized chocolate bar while I tell you how frustrating it is to eat healthy and exercise and not lose a pound. tee hee hee.

So, the other reason I'm dreading my docs appointment is that I'm going to request to be referred to an ob/gyn now vs. waiting until 32 weeks. As part of my job, I get to see ob/gyns all the time and they keep telling me to get referred now. Here's why I dread it. I have this weird intimidation, don't want to hurt your feelings, don't want to be a pain in the a** thing with my doctor. I'm worried he's going to ask me why. I'll tell him why. He won't think that's a good enough reason. And, then, as opposed to my normal fight-till-the-end strategy of life, I'll agree with him and not cause a fuss... even though I really want to go to an ob/gyn now! Why do I want to get referred to an ob/gyn so bad? A little bit because I want a female but also because of the above weight situation. I put on 38lbs with Jane. Yeah, there was probably 10 lbs there of Cadbury Fruit and Nut bars that didn't necessarily need (need is a relative term) to be there but, you know what, I was fine with that. I know he didn't do it on purpose, but my doc made me feel like I was a big fat failure sometimes. I can't stand that this time. It's already bothering me and, personally, I just don't think that's right. If I was gonna pack on 100 lbs, yeah, he has a right to say something and be concerned for me. But, give me a break dude. 38 lbs. I think I put on 20 lbs in first year of university and I was not "eating for two".

Recently I saw a friend post on facebook about the gestational diabetes test - and that gross orangey poppy drink they make you chug. One of my other friends said she opted out of this test. So, I'm like, you can opt out? Nope. She rebelled! :p She said, I'm not doing it. I don't have any signs. I don't have a history. Screw you! She is my hero. Part of me would like to go to my docs and say, you know what doc-ta, I ain't gettin on your ridiculously inaccurate scale with all my clothes on after I've had heavy oatmeal for breakfast, a tims double-double and haven't pooped in like 45 days (sorry, TMI). I know I won't put on an unhealthy amount of weight with this pregnancy and THEREFORE, I'm taking your weight tracking chart and telling you to SCREW IT. HA! How do you like dem apples? But, like I said, I have no balls with my doctor so instead I'll whimper next week when he starts giving me diet and exercise tips because I've put on like 10 lbs in four weeks or whatever the scale gets up to by next Wednesday.

Aside from my apparent issues with doctors and my weight, I feel good! :) I am feeling a little more movement this week which is fun.

Hard to believe I'm two weeks from half way there. The summer seems so far away... we'll get there.

Happy Friday!

Feb 23, 2012

my night with the cops and the boogie man

Last night was an adventure. An adventure involving bravery, sacrifice and will power.

Bravery of those other than me. I'm only proud that I didn't grab Jane and hide in the attic like I've envisioned doing so many times (my version of a panic room).

Sacrifice in my need to not be an inconvenience to anyone.

Will power in not killing the cause of all this adventure.

Here's the story. If you don't have ten minutes, come back later. I'm a story teller. It's gonna be a long one.

Background facts necessary for understanding and sympathizing:
  • Dan's out of town for the night for work
  • Jen had slight addiction to A&E cop shows about 5 years ago that resulted in extreme fear and caution involving potential break-ins, murder, rape, kidnapping, crime of any nature - extreme...

So, I'm off to bed... I take care of my typical, Dan-is-out-of-town-tonight-and-I-must-take-every-precaution-to-protect-Jane-and-I routine - which includes but is not limited to (I can't tell u everything) bringing my cell phone to bed with me, turning on all exterior house lights, double checking door locks and leaving Molly (a.k.a. annoying mini barking dog) downstairs to sleep - she's my canary in a coal mine... I know if Molly is not barking, I have nothing to worry about (unless she's been taken out, of course). This also includes scouring the kitchen for items Ernie (kitten with a death wish) may decide to knock off the counter/table, etc. that would result in the house alarm going off unnecessarily and resulting in my ultimate death due to fear-induced heart attack. Yes. I am this crazy. Some people fear diseases. Some people fear the end of the world. I fear the boogie man.

I am not the girl who says "it will never happen to me"...

I have this feeling tonight. I just feel it. I know the alarm is going to go off. I can't explain it. I just have a feeling.

I turn on the house alarm regardless. Look out my bedroom window (which overlooks the back patio) to make sure in the five minutes since I've come upstairs, no one is stalking the backyard or looking in the back windows. And turn off my lamp to go to sleep.

12:00am. House. Alarm. Sounds.

Holy Fuck.

I'm sorry. I know I usually don't swear "out loud" on the blog but this was a holy eff moment and I'm trying to paint the picture of what I was going through.

I check the alarm pad and see from the code that the glassbreak detectors in the kitchen have been activated. I run to my trusty window, thankful I implemented my outdoor light strategy, and see that there is no one lurking in the backyard. At least, not anymore. My heart is pounding through my fingertips now. I turn off the alarm and open my bedroom door. Molly's not barking. Good sign. Ernie is sitting in the hallway looking at me like "what?".

I'm WAY to freaked to go downstairs to take a look around the house. And, since Molly's not reacting, I'm thinking it must have been the cat or the dog who set it off in the first place. The alarm company calls seconds later, and I tell her this and hang up.

I man the alarm again right away. Get into bed. Power up the iPad for a long night of lying awake until the sun comes up and the boogie man disappears with the dark of night.

My alarm starts beeping. The "trouble" light is on. The "trouble" light means (1) I've lost power (2) I've lost my phone line.

I call Dan and wake him up. "The alarm went off."
"What?" (Dan obviously still in "is this a dream or is my wife crazy" mode)
"The house alarm just went off and I think it might have been one of the animals but now I'm freaking out because I just turned the alarm back on and (picking up the house phone and turning on...) the phone lines dead..."
"The phone lines are dead Dan. The alarm just went off. I just told the girl not to send the cops and now my phone line is dead. I think someone just cut the phone line..."

So, yeah. I'm freakin the eff out but basically just yelling at Dan, who's trying to calm me down, for leaving me for the night (because it's his fault someone is trying to kill me). I decide to be brave and head downstairs to take a look around to see if I can find the original cause of the alarm. I keep Dan on the phone and instruct him to call 911 if I scream or he loses me on the phone. I'm sorry. It's funny now but it wasn't last night.

I turn on every light switch at hand. Molly's glances up from the couch, groggy-eyed. Another good sign. The dog barks if you fart too loudly.

I search through the kitchen. Nothing. No water glasses broken on the floor. No bowls off the table. Nothing in the sink. No toys toppled over. Nothing. I glance outside. Nothing. No cause, in the house, for the alarm going off.

I check the phone downstairs, dead.

So, now, what do I do? It's been 30 mins since the original alarm went off.

Dan tells me to call the cops. Not the 911 cops but the "come by and check it out" cops.

Oh. What I just realized I forgot to mention at this point is that I've already cried 2-3 times by now. I am not a crier. This is a blessing of pregnancy.

I call the dispatch centre and proceed to tell my story to the friendly lady while including details about how I've been swearing at my husband because, somehow (again), it's his fault someone is trying to kill me. She's laughing. She offers to send someone out and I feel bad so I ask her if she thinks it's necessary. She tells me to call the alarm company and check if they've tied up my phone line for some reason, then to call her back and she'll send someone out.

I call my old friend Bob from the alarm company, surely waking him and his entire family up... I don't care. He asks me about the codes, we laugh about me yelling at Dan, etc. etc. All while Dan is calling a hundred times on the other line because, I lost him when I called the cops and called Bob immediately, and Dan is probably thinking I'm dead by now. Bob tells me it's likely the cable company is doing work in my area (at midnight???) and that I shouldn't be worried. He does say he is concerned about the original reason for the alarm. He doesn't seem to think it's a strange coincidence that 10 mins after my alarm randomly goes off, my phone lines go dead. We say our goodbyes and I feel better. Yeah. Like if I was a 10 out of 10 on the freaked meter, now I'm an 9.57.

I call Dan back, cry again, yell again. And start to say goodbye because he's trying to calm me down again and that's just making me more upset. I tell him I'm going to stay awake until the sun comes up... I tell him what Bob said about the cable company theory and, this is why I love him, he forces me to call the cops back and ask them to come check out the house. This is one thing I know about myself. I HATE asking for help. I HATE inconvenience people. I HATE asking for anything. I cry while I'm on the phone with the cops this time... awesome. I make sure to tell this lady I'm pregnant, twice, and that I usually do not cry to so much. I don't think she finds me funny.

She says she'll send someone right away. I get dressed into an I-just-woke-up-but-I-found-a-nice-pair-of-leggings-and-a-sweater "on the floor" outfit... I'm freaked out, but apparently I'm able to keep my cool enough to still have my priorities in order when a man-in-uniform is coming to the house. My Mom would be so proud. I'm the daughter who takes time to put her best dress on while the house is burning down.

I'm downstairs now, still on the phone with Dan in case there's someone lurking around the corner, waiting for the cop to pull up. I've actually gotten the "balls" now to look out the front window, where I was previously sure I'd see a car waiting for the man trying to kill me. But there's nothing.

Then I hear it....

Cling. Cling. Cling.

The ting of metal on a porcelain bowl.

I turn around to see Ernie pawing at his food dish... which is upside down. On the floor. Off the table.

Holy mother of effin eff eff bags and s*** effer you better run for your life (he's still alive, I swear).

The cop pulls up right after I notice this.

I come prancing out the door, Molly in my arms so she doesn't bark. Soon as the cop gets out of his car, I start crying again because I'm so nervous, scared, relieved, embarrassed, and a bazillion other things. I am in love with him immediately. He tells me right away that the cable company is at the end of the street and is working on the phone lines. He asks me to tell him what happened. He tells me that it's his job to give me peace of mind. I love him. I don't tell him that I've since discovered that my stupid-a**, going to punish him by pushing him the bathtub every time he's on the edge for the rest of his life, kitten is responsible for my alarm going off in the first place - which, when combined with the cable guy news, basically means he's at my house for no reason. I say stupid things like "you guys actually have note pads?" and "this is my first time actually talking to a cop!" I am so cool. But, seriously, despite all the facts at that point, when the man says "I'm going to go out and take a look around your property ma'am", I am thinking "my hero" (a la old fashion movie, southern accent, sigh). I watch him walk around the back with his flashlight and curse, realizing, he's probably cursing too cause he definitely just stepped in dog poop in the backyard... he leaves after saying "my name is lenny by the way" and I sigh again, complete admiration of his bravery to walk around my dark house by himself when I wouldn't even come downstairs.

I feel immediate relief.

Bed time.

Before I fall asleep, I take a minute to think of the cooler things I could have said to the cop. I envisioned me inviting him in for a coffee and chatting about his work, his stories, and so on. I am so cool. Then I think about him a little more seriously. Like, this was nothing for him. To come to my house, not knowing what to expect, all by himself. I mean, I'm pretty sure the smartest way to go about that job is to always assume the worst. And he goes around my house, no biggie, by himself, with his flashlight. What if the boogie man was back there?? Cops are dreamy... male and female. I am officially in love with them all. If I knew where "lenny" would have been today, I would have dropped off cookies and coffee and love notes and anything that would make him realize how much his small gesture of not judging me and not discrediting my fear meant to me.

Today, I am exhausted. Dan is exhausted. I love him. Despite yelling at him, I love him for stepping up and being the protective husband and forcing me to call the cops. Being that, obviously, I'm somewhat crazy about these things, he generally tells me I'm crazy and to go to bed. But last night, he was my white knight on a blackberry. I surprised him with way-too-expensive Jerry Seinfeld tickets this morning as a thank you and a sorry for yelling at you even though I needed you and it obviously wasn't your fault the cat and the cable company made me think someone was trying to kill me while you were out of town...

The cat is still alive. I'm considering options for future sleeping arrangements. Maybe I'll start feeding him lard so he'll get so fat he can't even get off the couch... maybe I'll refrain from talking about my plans for animal abuse on a public forum. :p

Wishing you a safe and happy evening...

Feb 22, 2012

whats-in-the-news wednesday

Hey! It's actually wednesday and (1) I'm actually going to write a whats-in-the-news post and (2) SCORE it's actually wednesday! Woot woot! And, the only reason, is because I'm home with a sick baby and she's currently, knock on wood (I just put her up), sleeping...

Here she goes...

Your kid is melting down. Why it's important to keep your cool - Ah. What else are you going to do? Throw yourself on the floor of the grocery store and kick and scream along with 'um? Personally, keeping my cool with regards to Jane's meltdown is not an issue. Keeping my cool with the a**holes who walk by and stare at you as though you just kicked a small puppy, that's my issue. I want to physically hurt these people. I have a temper. And, when the stress of a public meltdown is upon me, I can't keep my mouth shut. Last time this happened, Jane was throwing a fit in the entrance of Sobeys over a sticker, I'm trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation  and this freakin' 60-yr-old-who-def-owns-five-or-more-cats walks by and gives me the look... I wanted to throw something at her. Like I said, temper.

Are men disappointed if woman wears slimming garments? - Um. Not if we lived in the early 1900's when the slimming garments were hot little corsets. But, spanks. I think the disappointment might not be in the fact that when you're (I saw you're because I refuse to wear these - ask me again in 18 month when I'm wearing the full body version under my jeans) wearing them, it might be in the fact that by the time he finds out how the hell to get you out of them, the moment's passed baby. Added to the fact that granny panties and under garments that basically physically force your fat to squeeze down to non-normal areas of your body, are probably the world's biggest turn on... he's likely to think you sleep around you're so damn sexy. :p

The naked truth about bare male flesh - Um. I was distracted. Typically I would make some comment about how naked men generally make women uncomfortable but then I see that the pic for this article is of (sigh) David Beckham. So I click further, out of pure curiosity of course, nothing else. And find a video... with the tag line "does david beckham still have it?" Um. You tell me. Holy Mother of God, nevermind, you don't need to. If you think he's "losing it" you need to do some serious self-reflection on whether or not you may want to go on Rosie O'Donnell's next cruise (not that there's anything wrong with that!). I hate posh spice. Can I just say that. What kind of role model is this woman to her children? What kind of ridiculous expectations are her sons going to have of women - you cook me supper bitch but you eat that half-piece of lettuce and then barf it up. Someone needs to take her to Biggest Loser and force her to eat that big table of crap food they put out to tempt all the chubby people.

The Bachelor Canada: the race for the rose begins - First, please, pretty, please let someone I know be one of the chicks? Please. Canada's small. If you're an american, you're probably thinking - "don't all canadians know each other?" Which is partially insulting and partially true. :p Secondly, do you think this is going to be hilarious like me? I'm really interested to see the difference in the behaviour between the US chicks and the Canadian ones. Part of me thinks the Canadian chicks will be like... "oh, you like him too? oh. well then you should have him." "no you have him" "no you"... and so on. It's like when you fight over who should go through the door first or who should go through the stop sign first when two cars get there at the same time and you end up sitting there waving at each other back and forth until you both go at the same time, laugh, and then start all over again. Only in Canada baby.

Chris Brown, Rihanna collaborate on remixes - My blood boils. This is somewhat in line with my theory that many of the women who comes off as soooo confident, overly "women power" and/or super tough, are really just insanely insecure. Kim Kardashian. Jennifer Anniston. Madonna (why else the severe plastic surgery). I can't, for any other reason, understand WHY this woman is maintaining contact with this loser. Aside from him beating the crap out of her (as if it's not enough), the dude is just a pure loser - he's arrogant, disrespectful, and a bunch of other angering terms I can't think of without my blood pressure rising. How much you wanna bet they are back together but their PR people are keeping it on the DL?

Welcome to the blobosphere - Um. How unfair that someone should write an article about me without my permission.

7 SHOCKING discoveries about pregnancy - Notice the word I've highlighted. First item on the list - pregnant women are sexy. A woman wrote this article. She must not have kids. I bet she gets a lot of hate mail. No woman who has kids would list number one SHOCKING discovery as the fact that someone, somewhere, who might just be sober and not blind and without hands, might find a pregnant woman sexy. (2) Your breasts grow larger if you're having a girl. I wonder if a man commissioned this study - and volunteered himself to be the dude how has to measure the growth of boobs. (3) If you dream about baby's gender, you're likelier to be right. Um, if pregnancy dreams have any truth then I should be marrying Kris Humphries anytime now, that is, after I finish running from the alligator that's chasing me down the street into a classroom headed by Taylor Kitsch. (4) Nightmares are linked with faster deliveries. No comment. Who allowed this article to be published. (5) Skinny chicks are likelier to have daughters. Ah. See above re: Posh Spice and her fourteen sons. I just proved your study incorrect. Your welcome. I give up. I shall not continue.

On a brighter note - have you seen this yet?

"What if I just lay here... go ahead." BAH HA HA. I cried.

Feb 21, 2012

sick days

roses are red
violets are blue
i stink like barf
i think it's in my hair... 

dan, dear hubby, don't bother calling me to tell me this doesn't rhyme and makes no sense. The fact that it makes no sense and is completely dry is the whole point darling. It's called feelings. The women will get it. And, that, my dears, sets the tone of this post. ha ha!

Won't be writing much tonight... mostly because I'm still sitting in clothes that has dried barf on it, I have one of three hundred loads of laundry I've done this week in the washer ready for the changeover, I have two poptarts in the toaster calling my name and I've got 50 pages left of one of the girly-porn books I get myself addicted to in the read-it-all-in-24-hours style (girly porn = nora roberts novels, not seriously porn).

Here's the worst and best part of sick days. Jane has stomach flu. You never know when it's gone. Yesterday she was in the best mood. We went for a walk in the woods for some fresh air and I though, for sure, it was a one-off throw up instance. Then, she throws up after "supper" (barely any soup). Then she throws up right before bed.

So, I email my boss who is literally the best in the world. And, as usual, he responds with his unbelievably supportive and NON-I-should-never-have-hired-a-mother reply of "take care of your daughter, take all the time you need". And, yet, as a working Mom, I'm left with complete guilt. For those of you who don't have kids, it kind of feels like the same guilt you used to feel when you were in school and used to fake-sick to get out of a shift. I mean, technically, I am not sick. I am their employee. Not Jane. And, yet, I've never called in sick to work because I, myself, was sick. And, yet, I've racked up my share of sick days in 18 months. And, what's worse, is the not knowing how long I'll be off and the pressure I put on myself to be back within a day. And, the fear, that I won't be. And the fear that, worse, after Jane's done being sick, I'll be granted permission to begin barfing everywhere - hopefully I can avoid the shag rug which didn't fare so well today and, let me say candidly, is an effin' bitch to clean. I considered throwing it out altogether as it was near hell to clean it properly, while trying not to ruin the hardwood floor beneath, while trying to keep a curious, naked, cold, 2-yr-old who wanted another "pwetty dwess" while wanting to scrub the floor with mommy to stay on the "couch island". Oh, and trying to keep the cat, who I then realized had no food for god knows how long, from eating the thrown up mr. noodle soup off the floor. Fantastic.

You can say what you want, especially if you don't have kids, but it's part of the Mom code that we generally get first call when it comes to staying home with the sick babes. Partly because the babes always want their moms when they're sick. Partly because we probably wouldn't trust the dads to fully take care of our sick babies as we would. Partly because it's "expected" despite what we want to believe about the evolution of women's rights or whatever you want to call it. And, partly, because if I left Dan home with a sick Jane, he would, no doubt, get sick too and for some strange and suspicious reason, when he gets the same bug as Jane, his seems to hit him 50 times harder. Jane can have the stomach flu and go for a walk, be cheerful, be fun. Dan is on his death bed talking with that whining, raspy voice as if the stomach flu has cause his vocal cords distress... don't get me started. :p

Anyways. As I said, you never know when it's going to end. Today, despite being grouchier than normal, Jane was fine - no fever, no vomiting, nodda. Course, she ate nothing. But, we made a deal yesterday. If she drinks a lot of her juice, I won't check her temperature or give her medicine - most moms don't need a thermometer anyways to know that their babe has a fever. So, she ate nothing all day but 1/4 of a tim hortons bagel this am. This afternoon, I find a box of Mum-Mum crackers for babies - those ones that basically disolve on your tongue. So I offer them to her. She ate like 8-10 packages. Then she had some more mr. noodle soup for dinner.

So, ten minutes later I'm on my hands and knees cleaning out her reading tent because after ducking my head in to see how she was making out, I realized at some point in the past few days she must have had an accident in there and the thing smells like an outhouse in july... and I turn around after satisfactorily disinfecting the tent to see her standing, tense, and vomiting silently all over the shag rug. To which I respond as any mother does and hug her, letting her vomit all over me, because I don't want her to be scared.

And it starts all over. Tomorrow is another day. Another day away from work. Another day of hoping, praying for everyone's sake that Jane is vomit free for the entire day.

Here's a few pics of my love bug on our sick day walk yesterday afternoon... so sweet.

Feb 20, 2012

shopping for fatty clothes...

Out of boredom (also known as inability to sit still when I'm not being a mother and doing 45 things at one time), I was checking out some spring/summer maternity clothes this weekend.

Here's what I've discovered. I can see into the future. The future ain't pretty.

Maternity pants, by definition, are disgusting - constantly leaving this air space in the crotch area as if we not only had bulging bellies but penises as well. On the plus, if we wanted, we could store some snacks down there if they didn't make the pockets so small you can't fit a coin in them...

Secondly, who (WHO!!!) is designing this crap? Seriously. It's got to be men. Women would NOT design a maternity jean in light denim. First of all, we live in 2012 people - I don't think anyone but 14 yr olds wear light denim anymore. And considering the fact that most pregnant chicks have gotten a little extra junk-in-the-trunk since conception, I'm pretty sure we're not interested in putting anything light on the bottom. YET, they also love to make maternity dresses and t-shirts in horizontal stripes. Did you hear the one about the zebra and why his stripes are vertical??? Even the zebras know that horizontal stripes are NOT flattering, especially when you're gigantic! Is it supposed to be an optical illusion...??? Sure. To make your a** look three times it's actual size.

Here's my issue - during my first pregnancy, I didn't have to be pretty. I got laid off. I could live in jeans and t-shirts happily. Now, I have to look pretty. I have to be a cute pregnant working girl. I think I may try to avoid maternity clothes altogether in an effort to do this. A pregnant friend pointed out this weekend that the larger of my pregnancy days will be during the summer - so apparently there is hope that I can live in dresses and that I may be able to get by for quite a while with just buying size large in regular people clothes. Let us pray.

Aside from coming to my own conclusions about hating maternity clothes, I also learned a few other things from the Motherhood Maternity website. See below...

(1) Teenage pregnancy is encouraged... Is there any way this model (pictured left) is older than 17? Me thinks not... She's probably got this photo of herself posted with 3400 other profile pics of herself on Facebook.

(2) They believe this is the best our arses can look while pregnant... apparently making thongs for pregnant women is unacceptable.

(3) They think we're stupid enough to believe that this 90 pound chick is 30 weeks pregnant. Um... I can see through her arms and her boobs look like mine did in grade nine. Me thinks not.

(4) They believe that the best way to make a half-decent pair of capris even better for a pregnant woman is to add an accent that will draw as much attention as possible to her a**. GENIUS. I'll buy 10 pairs thanks.

(5) They believe with this photo, they have truly demonstrated how fabulously this pair of capris will fit your curves. Are they supposed to be hammer pants? This is shameful. Whoever approved these photos needs immediate dismissal. It's actually angering for me that they believe this is the best way to make woman feel like we can still be beautiful when we're pregnant - show us that, no matter what, clothes is going to look like crap on us. Thanks for the support.

(6) I'm not even saying anything for this picture. She's modelling nursing bras. Who is looking for nursing bras? Post-partum women. Swimsuit models should be directed to victoria's secret tyvm.

Feb 16, 2012

17 weeks pregnant

This week, I skipped over the part about how the baby's supposed to be developing - not because it's not important but because, honestly, it's kinda boring. He or she is x inches and has bones or something now. Point is, baby is growing and hopefully, healthily. I am dying for my twenty week ultrasound for peace of mind.  

First time moms often start to feel their baby's movements around now. Many women report that the first sensations are fluttery or like butterflies in the stomach. Unfortunately, your partner won't be able to share in your excitement just yet -- real kicking doesn't usually start for a month or so. Finally felt the baby move this week! Yipee! Not a whole lot but a few days ago in the bathtub was the first time and then this afternoon he/she was boucin' up a storm in there. I hope this one's a mover! Jane was a real mover - I could sit and watch my belly make waves as she flipped around and I loved it. After she was born, I used to think I still felt her - it was probably just gas. 

As your body gently expands (is this really the best term they could come up with - expands? why didn't they say "as you body gently blows the eff up" or "as you body gently fattens until you feel like your pants are cutting off circulation to your upper body - which may be another reason for mommy brain - lack of oxygen to the brain..."), you may feel less than glamorous. Ya think? The more of these emails I get, the more I wonder if there's a male writing these weekly updates. Less than glamorous. Tell me like it really is. I feel like s***. I look at my reflection and get depressed. I am still looking up at my skinny jeans that I hid in the back of the closet (see here) and wanting to try them on. It's only that I literally was a genius and tucked them way the frig up there so I'd have to get a stool and I'm too fat and lazy to do that right now just so I can realize that in a mere 6 weeks, I went from slim to JIM (belushi).  Take some time to feel good about your changing body in the coming weeks. Yes. I plan to do that. In fact, I might ask for the day off from work tomorrow so I can take some time to realize that the fact that my body is EXPANDING is FAN-FREAKIN-TASTIC and that, despite that it's wonderful that a baby is growing inside me, it's not so wonderful that my ass is EXPANDING and my face is decaying. Even if you don't feel attractive your partner probably still finds you a turn on -- some men find the roundness that pregnancy gives to women's figures very appealing. HA! Men find the roundness appealing. I've been with my husband for 8 years. Men don't find the roundness appealing... they aren't picky about whether its round, square or triangular as long as it's got boobs and a vagina. My husband currently thinks that the reason my boobs are huge is so he can pick them up and drop them just to watch them bounce.  It's no longer safe to have sex right up until 45 weeks after your water breaks, provided there is no medical reason that would keep you from ever having sex again, such as bleeding on any part of your body including hands, feet or nose. (I may have altered that sentence slightly so that Dan doesn't get any ridiculous ideas :p). Some women find that their libido increases during pregnancy (are these those same crazy women who need to read about extreme exercise while pregnant?) while others go off making love (go off making love to who? :p) -- it's quite normal either way. If finding a comfortable position is the problem then follow our tips. Yeah. that's the problem. 

You may also notice that the areola, the darkish area around your nipples, is getting larger as your breasts expand. It's a harmless side effect (again, a man is writing this crap... harmless? So my body's not only expanding but the one thing I had going for me in my gigantic boobs is now a write off as my boobs are now hideously unattractive as well.) of pregnancy but it may last as long as 12 months after the birth (doesn't matter anyways - see above re: the new sex guidelines :p). You may have noticed other skin changes such as the linea nigra and the mask of pregnancy; both of which will also fade after the baby is born. I don't even need to mention about other skin changes. My face is rotting and falling off my body. If there's a pregnancy mask, I'll buy it today tyvm

Feb 14, 2012

happy valentines day

I just polished off like half a pizza hut pizza - well, Jane and I polished it off, and we all know how much of the half-pizza a two year old ate... Some want chocolate. Some want flowers. Some want a romantic night out. Or, in, if you have kids. I'm happy with pizza hut. In fact, many people must be happy with pizza hut cause the pick-up line-up was craziness.

And, I'm thankful, because for the first time in a long time my hubby actually listened to me and didn't roll out the red carpet. That might sound strange but, in some ways, my husband is the woman in my relationship. He plans the sweet surprises, the romantic getaways, the grand gestures. I forget birthdays, anniversaries, and pretty much every other romantic occasion that occurs throughout the year. I actually bragged about remembering to make dinner and babysitter reservations for his bday this year. I was so proud of myself... and, if I'm being 100% truthful, I'm pretty sure that the only reason I remembered was because I'm pregnant and I was looking for an excuse to go to a certain restaurant (going to hell). For our anniversary this year he surprised me with a private horseback ride (which is my love), followed by a massage, followed by dinner. And, I... didn't do anything. :p Oopsy daisies!

So this year, when he asked me "are we doing anything for v-day" and I clearly said "I got you a card, I'll get something for dessert, that's it" he took my word for it. I'm not one of those chicks that says "don't get me anything" and cries when he shows up empty handed. If I want something, I ask, or I get it myself. :p And, I'm a little Bones-logical (see Fox television series) in that, I'm out of town the next few days so I'm thinking, yeah, flowers would be great but I'm out of town for two days and won't be able to enjoy them and that's a waste of money. Also, I couldn't think of any treats or chocolates that I am even interested in eating right now so, long story short, we got pizza hut. And, it was deliciously goody goodness. Now I'm craving grapes. It's valentines and I'm craving grapes. WTF.

Oh, and guess what? My face is basically decaying or something. It started off as this itchy spot under my lip that won't go away and starts to peel and then I pick at it and so if you run into me and I'm picking at my lip like a crack-addict rubbing his nose, this is my issue. Then, I got a little spot on my forehead. Then, on my left eyelid. Then under my right eye. So I wake up this morning and here's what I see in the mirror - cindy crawford (yup, she's still here), and this red shiner under my right eye from the newest itchy spot on the block. Like it looks like I got whacked. So I cover it with layers of concealer so I now I've got that scaly, caked-on makeup look under one eye. And, I'm pretty sure people are looking at me like "poor chubby belly girl, getting beat at home". Instead it's my pregnancy glow shining bright red and irritated.

Excuse me, while I take a break to scratch my itchy spots...

So, I have no idea what these spots are. I was at the docs this AM to get bloodwork done for my maternal serum screening and I run in to say hi to the docs and they say "how are you feeling?" They probably expected me to say "great, pregnancy is the most wonderful experience." My response: "I'm tired and my face is decaying..." Nice. You should have seen the expressions. Maybe decaying isn't the appropriate word.

Anyways, I'm off-line tomorrow night as, like I mentioned yesterday, I'll be eating whatever I want at a restaurant by myself. And computerless, which is the more valid point when talking about why I won't be blogging tomorrow.

Hope you are getting everything you wanted for your valentines! :)

Feb 13, 2012

my day...

want to know the truth that I should not, as a dedicated blogger, admit... i forgot to blog today. HA! I forgot I even had a blog to write today. Just didn't even cross my mind. I'm sitting here, watching (what else - I've complained before) Entertainment Tonight (URGH), playing around with a project, and neglecting my blog entirely.

So, in the effort of writing a post so that I don't fail at my goal of writing daily, I'm taking the easy way out and doing a fill in the blank post. I apologize in advance if it is boring as hell....

Outside my window... it's freakin' cold and icy. This winter's been amazing - mild, no snow - but I'm looking into my crystal ball and seeing an end to that in the near future.

I am thinking... that all this coverage of whitney houston's death is as whack as her crack. Not because she wasn't an amazing talent and not because we shouldn't give her respect. But a whole hour of entertainment tonight... the top story on all the news programs... really? My sister and I were talking yesterday (and maybe we're heartless...), when John Ritter (a.k.a. Jack Tripper - Three's Company - best show on TV in 80's) died, we were shocked (I cried on the bike at the gym). When Patrick Swayze died, I was somewhat heartbroken that we never danced together as I was certain in 1987 we were destined. When Michael Jackson died, we called each other immediately. When we heard Whitney died, we did nothing. Unfortunately, I don't think this was surprising news for anybody. AND, I'm having a hard time with all the MOMS these days, who seem to be throwing their lives away selfishly (Demi, I am also talking to you). Her poor daughter. Child is suicidal after her mother passes and her stupid-ass-useless father is doing a concert with NEW EDITION!!! Who the eff even goes to a New Edition concert in 2012???

I am thankful... for everything. always. but on a lesser note, I'm thankful for the granny smith apple and PC blue menu salt and vinegar chips I'm about to chow down on after I finish writing this.

In the kitchen... i dare not look. Technically, my kitchen is one with my family room which is one with jane's play room which means it's one big ass crazy mess all the time. Visit my sister's house yesterday and she says "we tidy, it gets messy, we tidy more and it just gets messy again..." My response. "Why do you tidy?" This is my motto.

I am wearing... my husband's housecoat. Already had my end-of-the-day bath and the housecoat is my lounge-wear of choice. Underneath is nothing... but a chubby belly and expanding hips. You're welcome. Happy Valentines Day.

I am creating... the most boring post ever.

I am going... to get some juice to drink because my chips are making me thirsty. Oh, and, partially crazy because I'm actually watching that stupid Smash show they've been advertising the hell out of and I'm bored and I'm not really even watching it.

I am wondering... nothing. My brain is empty. I literally sat here thinking about what I'm wondering about. So, I'm wondering what I'm wondering about and it's nothing. Which basically, at this very point, makes me a man!

I am reading... cookbooks. I'm bored with my cooking lately. I'm trying new things this week. Made a cheese and veggie stuffed meatloaf today for Jane and Dan (I don't like ground meat) and also substituted 1/3 of the meat for ground veggie stuff (meat alternative). I asked Dan if he really liked it twice before I fessed up to the substitution. Oh, and Jane only ate two bites before asking for macamoni... (KD which apparently has realized that, despite the intense guilt, is used religiously by moms and have come up with multiple options - veggie, whole wheat, etc - to make us feel better about this).

I am hoping... OH CRAP! I forgot. This is not a hoping at all but I just realized that while I was in my pre-housecoat bath, I felt the baby move for the first time - 100%! I thought I might have felt it (?) move earlier this week but wasn't sure but tonight, for sure, I felt the little 'un hippity hop! WOOT WOOT!

I am looking forward to... GOING TO HELL FOR THIS, I'm slightly looking forward to my work trip this week that'll have me out of town for one night. Not to get a break or be away from home. But because I get to go out for dinner. Food dictates my happiness at this point.

I am learning... that pictures have been released of beyonce's baby. WOW! OMG! It looks like a baby.

I am pondering... that this post was supposed to be a quick way out and it's taking me for-freakin-ever.

A favorite quote for today... Me (getting out of the bath): I'm gigantic. Dan (watching me with eyes wide and mouth hanging): Wait until your really big. Thanks hun. Happy Valentines to me.

One of my favorite things... watching movies with jane before bed. She says "I sit on you mommy" and I have to position her off to the side so she doesn't squish her "brodder or sisder" but I just sit there kissing the top of her head and smelling her. Some day she will be a teenager and hate me and this is all I've have to hang on to until she's 20 and she likes me but I annoy her.

A few plans for the rest of the week: Work and dinner at a restaurant, by myself!

A peek into my day...

Feb 10, 2012

whats-in-the-news wednesday on FRIDAY!

I wasn't going to do the whats-in-the-news post this week because, well, I wasn't sure if anyone wanted me too. Then I run into one of my fav daycare teachers on Wednesday who proceeds to tell me she's been looking forward to it all week and here I went and blabbed about my stupid skinny jeans!! OOPS!

So, in the interest of keeping the people happy... here she goes.

"baby's better off feeding himself" - I bet this was based on a study. FANTASTIC. My baby will be better off feeding himself! Woot WOOT! No more waking up through the night with a newborn. All I have to do is leave one of my boobs in the crib and say "deal, bitch!" and go to sleep.

"spanking your kid: does it help or hurt?" - Oh my nerves, I was listening to one of these guys talk the crap outta this on news radio today... talking about how kids who are spanked are like devil people when they grow up or something. Remember when they said that about all of us because we watched too much TV? I think somewhere along the line, spanking and child abuse became synonymous. Here's my thing - do what YOU feel is necessary to be loving, supportive and guiding parents. If YOU feel that a little tap-tap on the bum is necessary in extreme conditions to be used as a last resort, that's your decision. GOOD parents KNOW the difference between discipline and abuse. If you don't know where the line is or want to ask me what I think the line is, then you shouldn't spank your kids. I, personally, do not spank Jane and do not plan to. With that said, I have definitely given her a tap on the leg or something, almost instinctual without thought, a few times when she did something that was dangerous. Was I spanked myself, no. But my Mom had a wooden spoon. And, oh my dear Lord, if the wooden spoon came out we sobbed from fear... and my mom would take that wooden spoon and barely touch it to the top of our hands - like, literally, barely touch. And, holy moly, we would screech. My Mom always said, raising kids is a healthy mix of love and a little bit of fear.

"how to put out the fire when hatred flares up between siblings" - I laughed when I read this. My sister and I are 18 months apart. We're a lot alike and a lot different. We used to fight over everything. When we fought and wouldn't work it out, my Mom would lock us in the bathroom and we had to stay in there until we told each other one reason why we loved the other. It's hilarious when I think of it. We'd stand in there huffing and puffing for several minutes, whining at Mom and shooting death stares at each other. Eventually, we'd come up with something like "I love Nancy because she lets me use her hair brush" and that sufficed. One of two things happened - we came out laughing or we came out grouchy with Mom instead of each other. Mission accomplished.

"10 signs your spouse may be planning to divorce you" - I'll save you a TON of time. If you feel like you need to read this article because you want to know the signs, you're probably in for a divorce in the future.

"Sex and the Web" - What your search history says about your desires" - Um, online shopping turns me on?

"Four reasons Madonna rocked the Super Bowl" - I'm sorry. I'm not hating on Madonna, she's Madonna. But Madonna rocks a concert. Madonna rocks the grammys. Madonna rocks a face lift like no one else. Madonna does not rock the SUPERBOWL. Bon Jovi rocks the superbowl. Rolling Stones rock the superbowl. Bruce Springstein rocks the superbowl. Notice the lack of "Black Eyed Peas rock the superbowl" - who the F is making these decisions?? Do women like football yes. I love it. But, anyone who says the superbowl is not "made for the boys" is insane. I am cool with this. Give the boys something. Women own the rest of the world, give the men their superbowl. Do you really think your husband thought Madonna rocked the superbowl? Um. No. Did I sing along with Like a Prayer. Hell yes. Did my husband leave the room to have a pee and get some more chips? Guaranteed. Next year, maybe they'll have Il Divo, or Backstreet Boys OR better yet BSB and NKOTB!! :p

"Please your partner (and yourself) with a spousal RRSP" - See above re: signs your spouse is planning to divorce your ass. If THIS is your idea of how to please your partner, your partner is planning to divorce you. She's probably just waiting until you put all that money in her name before she hits the road.

The end. Happy Friday! :)

Feb 9, 2012

16 weeks pregnant

Finally, past the 15 week mark... it was the week that went on forever! WHY? WHY ON EARTH do I want to rush this pregnancy? I'm crazy! The other night, I'm getting ready for bed. Jane's asleep. I'm getting in the bath. Ahhhh... the end of the day. And it hits me. In 5 months, there will be NO END TO THE DAY! There will only be the beginning of the night! What was I thinking?!?! 

Here's what's apparently going on inside me this week... 

What's the baby up to?

Your baby is now about the size of an avocado (about 5 inches and weighing approximately 4 ounces / 100 grams). In the next three weeks he'll go through a tremendous growth spurt, doubling his weight and adding inches to his length. This is both awesome and scary.  I've been eating like a horse and shocked when I get on the scale that I'm not packing on the pounds... how much you wanna bet it catches up with me like NOW! :p tee hee hee. Although, I am looking forward to "looking" pregnant. Right now, I think people are probably not even looking twice at me and, if anything, are assuming I have that super sexy, leftover, mommy-belly that I didn't have pre-pregnancy but, trust me, I've pretty well come to terms with it that mommy-belly is in my post-two-babies future. I'll wear it with pride, I promise. :p Urgh... shut up. I said I'd wear it with pride, I didn't say I wouldn't go down fighting (and whining). 

In or out of the womb, babies are playful creatures. Yours may already have discovered his first toy -- the umbilical cord -- which he'll enjoy pulling and grabbing. Sometimes he may even clutch it so tight that less oxygen gets through, but don't worry -- he doesn't hold onto it long enough to harm himself. Oh fantastic... my baby's already getting mixed up in choking games. Next you're going to tell me he's popping prescription pills in there too...The circulatory system and urinary tract are in full working order, and he's inhaling and exhaling amniotic fluid through his lungs. Ok, my mom calls it a "miracle"... but personally, the fact that a baby is created and grows inside you while breathing in fluid and playing games with his body parts is extremely strange, alien and a little creepy! Maybe "miracle" sounds better... 

Sometimes, when you move suddenly, you may a feel a slight pain in your sides. Ligaments on each side of your uterus and pelvic walls are stretching (among other things, like my ass) as your baby grows. It's normal to feel some pain, but if it continues for a few days or escalates, talk to your midwife. What is a midwife and why do they call them "mid-wives"? To me a mid-wife is what a 50 year old hideously unattractive american politician picks up on the internet and then denies until it comes out he's had two kids with her and has spent tax-payer money on her condo in downtown manhattan...

How my life is apparently changing...

You've probably gained at least 2.2kg/5 lb by now, maybe as much as 4.5 kg/10 lb. I'm pretty sure I've abused my scale into submission to the point that it now lies to me and avoids showing me the truth. Seriously. Cause I've been eating less than ideally since Sunday's superbowl stress and either one of two things is happening (1) my scale is lying or (2) my body is in shock and any moment is going to blow up by 500 lbs like that annoying blueberry chick in charlie and the chocolate factory. 

Many couples worry about what labour will be like and how they'll cope as new parents -- it's all perfectly normal. Try chatting with couples with children about how they felt at this stage and read up on what happens in labour. It may help to read some birth stories so you know what to expect and to visit ourBabyCenter Canada First time parents group to find out what their babies are up to now. Ah. No. It may help to pretend your oblivious and not learn ANYTHING about what's about to happen to your body. Because you can read all the crap you want to and NOTHING will prepare you for labour and there's no such thing as a "normal" labour AND, fact is, you're screwed anyways because the baby is very likely coming out of your vagina. What crazy person wants to watch the car crash before it crashes??? If I were to write this paragraph for babycentre.ca, I'd write... Now may be a good time to cease all conversations and contact with any of your friends who have had children. Try your hardest to avoid any prenatal classes or youtube videos that are intended to educate you on what labour is like and what your body will go through. The most important thing to remember in the labour room is NO!!! you do NOT want to see what's going on with a mirror. 

It's a good time to arrange a last minute vacation if you can spare the time and money. Travelling in the middle trimester is often recommended because you are usually over the early pregnancy feelings of nausea and fatigue and still not too far advanced for size or premature labour to be a problem. Don't talk to me. Any of you who have the spare money to go on a vacation right now, suck. I have not a bone in my body that is happy for you - they are all envious. :p In fact, I'd spare the debt to go on vacation right now but my husband sucks and can't take time off work until end of April. Yeah. Sounds dreamy.  Seven months pregnant. Spring/Summer. Florida. I'd be a swollen, fat, uncomfortable, rash-ridden, mess. "Jane, you and Daddy go walk for five hours around disney world, mommy's going to stay in the hotel room where it's air conditioned and her feet won't swell to size fourteen..." Best. Vacation. Ever... 

Feb 8, 2012

r.i.p. skinny jeans

This is a very difficult post to write...

To say goodbye to something that's been such a big part of my life for the last two years...

You've supported me, given me confidence, made me happy, simply because you were you... and you fit me perfectly.

I remember, years ago, stating with absolute determination that I would "NEVER, NEVER" go back to you. That I'd tried you in the 80's and you hadn't worked but I rocked you anyways. You had worked in the most wrong way, like a bad-ass boyfriend that treated you like s*** but was so hot you ignored it. Then they made you darker and lower, and stretchier and in calvin klein... you weren't the acid-washed, high wasted, camel-toe guaranteeing friend that I'd shared many a bad school photo with before. You wrapped yourself around me everyday like a cozy, warm and body-hugging blanket.

I will miss you skinny jeans. R.I.P.

My guess is that by the time I'm ready to think of you again, by the time you and I could fit together once more, you will have been replaced with hammer-pants or some other ridiculous style from the 80's that I swore to never repeat.

As I sit here with jeans tucked into the under side of my bra, it's hard to consider that it may be a year or more (ha, maybe is a hilariously inaccurate word - It will at least be a year) before I can slide you back over my hips and not worry about splitting seams.

I've hidden you away... in the back corners of my closet. I've thought about you many times in the last weeks... wanting you, wanting to just check if we still fit like we used to. Instead, I turn away in fear.

Sometimes when we really love something, we have to let it go.

R.I.P skinny jeans. See you on the flip side... :p