Delusions of sanity

Deep Thoughts

2010-02-01T13:44:00.003-05:00

First, it's come to my attention that a fellow redcanuck, a Canadian Political blogger, has lost his last battle with cancer and has left behind many devoted family, friends and blog readers. My condolences go out to those whose lives were touched by the witty redcanuck.

Second, and I'm sure you've noticed by now, I've dropped from being www.redcanuck.com to my old blog address at blogger, redheadbananabread. Personal blog domains just don't fit into the budget of a single income family these days. Especially when the non-income earning spouse is sporatic at best about using the domain name! Hopefully the name will still be available if I ever have the disposible money, and time, to once again utilize it. until then, i hope to continue on amusing (or not) my readers (or reader) here.

thanks!

"cheese"!!

2009-12-19T00:22:00.001-05:00

dec 18 041, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Is it only me?

2009-12-02T13:36:00.004-05:00

Sometimes I do have to wonder at myself. Am I the only one who does weird things? ok, ok, not just normal weird things, but, like, really weird things.

Last night, for example, a group of girlfriends and I were planning on hitting the movies...Twilight: New Moon (yes, I'm that kind of loser and you still love me).

My first thought wasn't on food, or transportation or timing; no...'cause that would be *normal*. My first thought was on what kind of chair the movie theater has.

No really, I'm serious.

The kind of chairs a movie theater has is a vitally important bit of information!!! This essential, critical, vital, indispensable, crucial, and for lack of a better word, all consuming bit of information is needed to determine...

which pair of underwear to wear.

Think about it for a second. Women have such a vast plethora of underwear styles to choose from, and to be frank not all of them are suitable for every activity.
Thongs? Not for marathons.
Granny panties? Not for anniversary dinners.
Boy shorts? Not for movie theaters!

Most older movie theaters have chairs without the additional head support, causing most normal people to alternate between a slouched, head-resting-on-the-back position, and sitting upright to relieve back crampage.
Am I right or am I right?

This constant sliding up and down friction (while enjoyable, but that's for another blog entry!) on the buttocks area really affects the undies abilities to stay OUT of the butt crack! Boy shorts, not having that bottom elastic, just really cannot cling for life, like a good granny panty can.

And have you ever tried to pick a wedgie in a movie theater? Not comfortable!!

Really, it's all very logical, if yes, weird. Older theater = granny panties. No and's if's or but(t)'s about it!

Our feeding Triad

2009-11-24T23:30:00.006-05:00

When my son, our first, was born he wanted to get right down to business. I swear he came out shouting "Boob, mother, boob me now!" And boob him I did, after spending vital minutes trying to figure out how to hold this itty bitty newborn, and then how to hold these not so itty bitty...big boobs. Yeah. I remember having a blind faith in the simple equation of baby + breasts = happiness. For me, what was not factored into that was learning how to *hold* the baby to make the baby + breast = happiness equation as effortless as it looked on TV and in books.
First, i tried the cradle hold. The hold that is immortalized in paintings such as "The virgin with the green pillow" by 16th century painter Solario. One has got to reason that if the hold's been around for at least 500 years, it has to work, right? Well. Not so much for us endowed breastfeeders. Unknowingly I had entered the boobmuda triangle. The desire and commitment to breastfeed, but the lack of knowledge on how to do so.

To my rescue came not a shiny knight in armour (and let's be frank, who wants knights in armour when you're just pushed out a bouncing watermelon size child through your lady bits, after sweating and swearing for 26 hours? Not me!) but rather a Lactation Consultant who took one look at me, one look at my husband and introduced us to each other all over again. "Wife, meet husband. Husband, meet wife. Together you are now going to feed your child!"

Wait, what?

"You, you and you, cutie pattotie (not the husband, thankfully), are now a feeding Triad. Congratulations!"

The Lactation Consultant Goddess handed our son to my husband, handed a stack of pillows to me and got us set up in what we both soon learned were our "positions". Me, pillows built up to support the baby and my generous mammary glands, and my husband, in charge of positioning and holding our son where he had to be until we got the act on the road.

I know, isn't simplicity awe-inspiring?!

My husband, the maker of half this child, had a role in feeding our son! A vital role, one in which you could just see him puff up in pride! And me, his loved wife, had a partner to help figure out how object A inserts into slot B while supporting objects C, D, and E.

That first time was magic. Once I was positioned, my husband brought over our son and held him in the football hold which I got lined up and latched on and then he made sure he was fully supported while I learned how to tuck his bum into my side with my elbow and cradle his head in one hand. I could not have done it solo, there were just too many things to hold onto in those early days, and worrying about dropping my brand spanking new child was not something my hormone flooded brain needed to be worried about!

We soon settled into a routine, and we all thrived by working together. My husband wasn't left to sulk in the corner while I "bonded" solo with our son. His role left him feeling involved, and needed and all the other good stuff that new Dads sometimes are missing. I loved the fact that at our son's first hint of hunger, my husband was eager to get us set up in our triade and feed his son. My Husband wasn't just any old guy - to his son he was the bringer of the food!

Those first few days flew by, as all moms know, and I soon found myself more adept at baby wrangling and tucking in arms and legs and lining up nose to nipple. Slowly my husband was able to take a step back and watch us soar high, just my son and I.

The thing was...even once I could do it all solo, my husband was so integral to our nursing relationship that he picked up other jobs. Finding my nursing pillow. Changing mid-feed diapers to help keep sleepy babies awake. Writing down feeding times and lengths to show the midwife. Tickling toes, massaging shoulders and finally just being in awe that his help had made it possible for his son to get the best start in life with a minimal stress on his wife.

I know, isn't simplicity awe-inspiring?!

Almost 4 years later, my husband still speaks proudly of our Feeding Triade. And I get to share with new dads that breastfeeding doesn't have to be all about mom and baby. They still need, and want, you.

Want to know more about Natural parenting, breastfeeding and cloth diapering? Check out one of my favourite sites, www.parentingbynature.com
and www.ecobabysteps.com

A really useful engine...err...costume

2009-11-17T23:40:00.001-05:00

oct 31 034, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

I don't like to toot my own horn...much...but in this case, I feel obliged. I deserve it 'yo. Cause I am THAT good, I tell you.
This, here, is the product of hours and hours of sweat. tears. blood and yes, swearing. I earned a new brownie badge... Hand to hand combat with a temperamental (my guess is hormonal) hot glue gun. My nemesis. Arch nemesis if you will. We danced the funky chicken and I emerged victorious!!

Here that glue gun?! I WON!! wipe that smirk off your little glue gun face, I won baby, i won. But yeah, I do have my war wounds. 8 war wounds, nice shiny burn marks.
The things I do for my loved ones, i swear.

Shit happens

2009-11-13T00:47:00.003-05:00

Today, my son was bitten while at Preschool.
Today, we both learned some things about people.

I learned that no matter how protective I am of my son, and no matter how much I love him, he will still get hurt.
My son learned that playing with others can sometimes bite you in the ass...err...arm. While I do wish neither of us had ever had to learn these lessons, after some angry words and even angrier thoughts, I realized I have to keep in mind that I am thankful my son was able to live for 3 1/2 years without that lesson. And I had 3 1/2 blissful years where I was blissfully naive enough to think that I could ALWAYS protect my son.
But I can't.
He's growing up
And you know what? That sucks.

So. Today. Shit happened.

What matters now is what we do with the things that today offered us, good AND bad.

There is no logical explanation for this.

2009-10-21T00:28:00.002-04:00

october 15 011-1, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

This...this is a praying mantis.

In my backyard.

In October. Mid October.

In Canada

(that's in the northern hemisphere, just so's we're clear)

Never, EVA in my many years walking these streets, have I ever seen a praying mantis. Until this little guy started insisting that my kids outdoor playhouse was *his* house, thankyouverymuch, goodbye.

wait, what?

yeah, dude was all macho trying to get us to leave his little green butt alone. I tried to point out to him that he would fit comfortably under my big, descending foot, but he dissented.
So the big softie that I am, I used the fly swatter to....move him. yes, move him, I promise! He now resides under my sage plant.

He's a weird dude.

*edit*
Do yourself a favour, and do not wiki praying mantis. The words "sexual cannibalism" should never ever be linked. Ever. like...ever. Save yourself, and you sex life. No wiki-ing, please. You're welcome.

Life is like a china tea cup.

2009-10-21T00:12:00.001-04:00

october 15 006, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

There's nothing stopping you using it everyday but fear.

haha, got you there, didn't I? Ok, so I am no philosopher ut I sure do love my formal china, and since I had some pieces out taking pictures of it, I thought I'd try and be all philosophical and impress you. So...did I? Impress you?

No?

well. Tough crowd!

Wait, can one person be classified as a crowd? I'd like a verdict on that when you get a moment. Thanks.

no? well. tough person!

So. Did you miss me? Mourn my long absence? Tear your hair out, bite your nails to the quick?

no?

well. Tough crowd!

I've been...well, I've been right here, at my new house, just not blogging. Why, I have no real reason. Procrastination, business, laziness...yup, all of the above. It's classic me - go gung ho into something, then drop it like a hot potato. My bad. Did that with student politics in University. Drawing. Knitting. Personal hygiene. ha! Kidding...on that last one. Promise.

I'm clean, I swear! My pits smell...yum, vanilla.

ok, ew. sorry.

Was there even a point to this? I'm feeling all discombobulated. ohhh, fun word. AND I spelt it without aid. I'm a rockstar, I know.

wait, what was I saying? I'm confused. Confused should be my middle name.

Red Confused Canuck.

Has a certain ring to it, doens't it?

2009-07-07T00:02:00.001-04:00

June 27 150, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

The "Mommy, make "him" STOP!" face.

or maybe...

The "mommy, put down the black box and pick me UP!" face

...or both. They kinda blend together, lol

We have arrived, oh we have arrived!

2009-07-06T23:50:00.001-04:00

June 27 154, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

The day I have been waiting for for about14 3/4 months. ponytail.

WOOT WOOT!!

ok, so it's a pretty sorry excuse for ponytail, and it was ripped out by it's wearer nanoseconds after this picture, but it was there. It was photographed. Therefor...

it counts!!

Isn't it cute?

I've been dreaming about the ponytail days since this little muchkin shot straight outta my girlie bits. The ponytail. and then in a bit we'll graduate to the frenchbraid (*shivers of excitement*) and then...wait for it, wait for it...NAILS!

I love having a daughter :D

Oh yes I did!!

2009-07-06T23:06:00.002-04:00

June 27 237, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

All that glorious red goodness is indeed what you think it is.

Prime, in season, local strawberry JAM!! Which I made all by myself!

...with my MIL's help, of course, lol. what, you think I'm superwoman or something? Ha! Nope, just superwoman-in-training

Now that my freezer is stocked full of glorious red goodness, I can cross jam making off my life's list, and proclaim myself an expert!

P.S - Do experts wear white shirts while making bright red strawberry jam?

Dog Psychiatrist?

2009-06-22T23:35:00.001-04:00

June 13 133, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

I have no doubt there is such a thing. I know dog people. You all are a crazy bunch of mofo's, did you know that? Cause ya'ar. You crazy nutbars. C-razy with a capital C. Back away slowly and show no fear kinda crazies. Oh yes you are and YOU KNOW IT. Which is why I have no doubt there are Dog Psychiatrists. The rest of you "norms" (aka not dog obsessed people) aren't surprised either, eh? haha, didn't think so.

You know what else might not surprise you? That I had a long and in depth conversation with this beauty's "parents" *cough cough owner cough cough*. We talked about how the poor guy has some issues. He has some Identity issues. You see, people... mean, ignorant non-dog people...think he's a Mixed breed Dalmatian.

*gasp*
*choke*
*sputter*
*wheeze*

I know, *I* might need a psychiatrist now too.

Orrrr not.

Yup, poor guy just cannot shake that "D" label. How horrible life must be to always be thought of as inferior, not what you truly are. The shame, the confusion. Makes you want to cry.

orrrr not.

But still. He's pretty damn gorgeous, even if he's not even a fraction Dalmatian!

Har har, i kid I kid.

You're the dog buddy, YOU da dog. You big ol' Great Dane you

If I owned a dog...

2009-06-22T23:21:00.001-04:00

June 13 090, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

I would never have to carry wet wipes ever ever again.

Just sayin'

Oh yes he did!!

2009-06-18T23:11:00.003-04:00

June 18 puddle jumping 024, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

I am the cool mom.

I encourage my son to jump in muddy puddles.

He damn well better remember that I am the cool mom in the throws of teenagehood. Maybe that's why i take the pictures. To remind him I am the cool mom and he needs to be nice to me.

I also let my kids eat chocolate cake for morning snack

TOLD you I was the cool mom.

Do yourself a favour.

2009-06-18T14:23:00.002-04:00

Tonight, after dinner, before you wash any dishes...

Throw your damp sponge in the microwave for a minute

It'll kill all those nasties living in those enticing little holes. Ew nasties.

And while you're at it, do ME a favour and come wash my dishes, M'kay?

Damn those nonstick pans that can't go in the dishwasher!!!

"They" say...

2009-06-18T00:47:00.003-04:00

June 13 129, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Who "they" are is still a mystery to me, but "they" might have this one right.

People look like their dogs.

I am now very confident in this assessment. (haha, I wrote out ass). You see, this past saturday I had the honour, nay the priviledge (name that movie!) to be one of the hordes that attended Toronto's "Woofstock".

Are you done laughing yet?

How about now?

Ok, good.

Woofstock was actually really cool. Even given the fact that we, I, do not own a dog. But my big brother does, and he came with us, so we had dogs by proxy. Except when I attempted to get him to change Miss A's diaper citing the proxy argument he shot me down, so it might not stand up in court. He's an almost dr you know.

But I digress.

There were dogs. Dogs as far as the eye could see.

Much to my amusement, the hubs and I soon started a "find it's owner" game where we matched the crazy ass owners with their dogs.

I know, we're cool.

This dude up there? Yeah, BINGO!!

Check out this guy.
He's got the sappy "love me or I'll DIE!" golden retriever face down nicely, eh?

This dude...well, he was just plain scary. And his dog could lick my sunglasses clean, so to say he was a bit intimidating was putting it lightly. They went together well

Which brings us to these beauties.

Cute, aren't they?

Hairy, aren't they?

Red, aren't they?

who on earth could these hairy red furballs belong to?

3 guesses, and the first two don't count.

If you guess my big brother, you are RIGHT!!! Cute, hairy and red...Just a bit of resemblance, no?

If you guess someone else, dude, you suck.

I am no longer a loser...or would that be anti-establishment

2009-06-18T00:28:00.004-04:00

I signed up for itunes.

Yes, I did it, I gave in. I now pay for my music. I gladly join the masses of teenie boppers and geriatrics worldwide that buy music online.

*sigh*

When did I get this old?

Since I already opened myself up to countless hours of teasing, ribbing, sassing and outright hate mail, I may as well strip naked and show you...

my play list, you dirty birds.

Prepare to laugh your ass off and feel far, far superior to me. It's ok, I allow it.

I kissed a girl - katy perry
Boom Boom Pow - Black eye peas
I know you want me - Pitbull
Disturbia - Rhianna
Single ladies - Beyonce
Naughty girl - Beyonce
Amazing - Janelle (for my daughter's Slide show)
Circus - Britney Spears
Give me more - Britney Spears
Bill Withers – Ain’t no sunshine
Katrina and the waves – walking on sunshine
Elizabeth Mitchell – you are my sunshine
Lenard Skynard – Sweet home Alabama
The temptations – my girl
Jet – are you gonna be my girl
Ray Orbison – Pretty Woman
ColdPlay – Fix you

I"m going to go curl up in bed in shame. While listening to my rockin' new playlist. And then tomorrow, when I'm working out to my new playlist, I shall laugh. And maybe cry a little, cause working out sucks.

I mean seriously.

2009-06-13T23:25:00.001-04:00

June 13 010, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

If having these in your backyard doesn't fuck up naptime, what will?

Continuing the pink powder puff motif...

2009-06-11T22:36:00.001-04:00

June 7 018, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

I present you with how her royal highness travels - in style. Only the best for Ms. Pink, with her driver, her fearless older brother, driving her to the party.

Having an older brother myself, I applaud her early, and consistent, training of her big brother. He doesn't see it, but as a younger sister I certainly do. It starts innocently enough... he gives up a toy to make her stop crying. Then it graduates to fetching her a toy when she points. THEN it moves on to the big leagues. Sharing the last piece of his birthday cake, tucking in her blanket...chauffeuring her around. She's a natural, as only a princess little sister can!

My new favourite photo

2009-06-10T00:33:00.001-04:00

June 7 036-3, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Baby Girl
Pink Tutu
Grand Piano
Beautiful light

Do I really need to say more?

Hot diggity

2009-06-09T00:01:00.001-04:00

June 3 028, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Just LOOK at those forarms.

You're welcome.

BUT....

I'm sorry, he's married.

I screamed out loud.

2009-06-06T22:23:00.003-04:00

I was just meandering through my flickr account seeing if I had already uploaded birth pictures, when I ran across....

this.

OH THE HUMANITY!!!! Good god no, NOOOOOO!

The reality check that that, *sceams*, is how we spend 6 months of the year was NOT welcome when...

this

is what I looked at today. Same chairs. 6 months apart.
that's more like it.

Ahhhh.

P.S. Nope, did not find any birth pictures, but am remedying that right this second.

My home birth story

2009-06-06T21:22:00.003-04:00

In honour of my best friend's home birthed daughter's one-week-iversary (did you catch all of that?) I thought it was finally time to share my own, well planned, home birth.

Be prepared - I talk about my girlie bits. There, you have been warned, I have no shame :D

Miss A’s birth story

Welcoming a second child into the world is just as unique an experience as the first time. You may think you know what you are doing, but each child shows you that they have their own personality, distinct even to the point of how and when they want to enter the world! To be blessed with creating and nurturing a life again, after knowing the love there exists between mother and child, is overwhelming. Love is not divided; it is multiplied with each child. Miss A’s birth was an amazing event. I had hoped and planned and had everything I could set up ahead of time, all that was left was for her to decide she was ready to enter the world and be welcomed into our lives – she was already a part of our hearts and our family the moment she was conceived.

Writing a birth story is a challenge and a privilege. Writing it means you are a mother, it means you have an amazing little person who needs you and loves you for being *you*. It means that you have gone through the most life changing event I can imagine. Giving birth is powerful. It can push a woman beyond any level of imagination possible. It is the most physically charged, basic human function I can imagine, and its rewards cannot be counted. Knowing where to start the story is hard. You want to remember and document everything to show your children when they are older, to show your friends and family, and to reread yourself whenever you need a pick me up. I reread my son birth story frequently. During the sleepless newborn nights, during the sleepless teething nights, as his first birthday approached, when he amazes me and when he frustrates me. It is an instant connection to the beginning of the most fundamental relationship possible.

I am insanely proud of Miss A’s entrance into the world. I fought long and hard to plan a homebirth, where I could welcome my daughter into the safety and comfort of our family in surroundings that were familiar to me, and would be a comfort to both of us. We had numerous roadblocks to overcome to ensure our homebirth, but we did it. I had asked my two best friends to be involved in Miss A’s birth, and as both live over an hour away, we needed to be on the ball about when to call them to be here. Seeing as they have toddlers themselves, timing could have been an issue. Thankfully, it all worked out perfectly!

Thursday April 10, 2008 I had a midwife appt first thing in the morning. My husband had taken the morning off work to be with our son while I went to my appointment. After talking to one of the midwives, B, about the random contractions all week, we decided to do an internal, even though I knew the information wouldn't really tell me anything, I was at the stage of pregnancy that I needed to be reminded that this baby was coming out sooner rather than later. Turns out I was about 1cm dilated and 50% effaced, which made me smile. After my appt, we took Mr. Man to the park to play and for a nice long walk. My husband left for work as Mr Man went down for a nap, and I took the time to myself to have a nice long nap as well. Thursday night we spent the same as usual, watching some tv, puttering around the house, talking to friends and family on the phone. I was optimistic as I was having a lot of activity down under.

Turns out my optimism wasn’t misplaced!

My labour started around 2am on Friday April 11, 2008. I had been having cramps and random contractions all week, but on Friday they began to come at time able distances between then, and were painful enough that I wasn’t able to sleep anymore. I ended up coming downstairs and watching tv, deciding to track my contractions using an online counter, and update my journal. Here is how the contractions looked in the early morning:
Start time - end time – duration - interval
03:54:07 am 03:55:16 am 1 mins, 9 secs - 7 mins, 22 secs
03:46:44 am 03:47:42 am 57 secs - 7 mins, 10 secs
03:39:34 am 03:40:24 am 50 secs - 8 mins, 17 secs
03:31:16 am 03:32:13 am 57 secs - 8 mins, 16 secs
03:23:00 am 03:23:44 am 44 secs - 9 mins, 3 secs
03:13:56 am 03:16:10 am 2 mins, 14 secs - 4 mins, 23 secs
03:09:32 am 03:10:29 am 56 secs - 6 mins, 20 secs
03:03:12 am 03:04:03 am 50 secs - 8 mins, 40 secs
02:54:31 am 02:55:35 am 1 mins, 3 secs - 11 mins, 56 secs
02:42:35 am 02:44:09 am 1 mins, 34 secs

I decided around 5am to wake my husband up to rub my back during contractions, I was feeling a lot of back pressure and pressure in my hips as the contractions wrapped around to my lower abs. Around 6am we decided the contractions were definitely “it”, and so we made the decision to call in the troops! I called (and woke up!) my two best friends, the blonde bombshell duo, and called my mom as she made her way into work to find out when she could come. The plan had been for my mom to come and be with Mr. Man while I laboured, maybe keeping him overnight depending on timing. Turns out my mom wasn’t able to leave work and be at my house until late afternoon, but both AJ and Nat were both able to come out mid-morning.

As luck would have it, having Mr. Man at home during my labour was a deciding fact on how fast I progressed. When Mr. Man woke up at 8am, there was a noticeable lengthening between contractions, and I began to doubt that I was truly in labour. This self-doubt haunted me throughout the day, and coupled with Mr. Man being so close by, was most likely the two largest factors to the long first stage of labour I experienced.

Nat and AJ arrived mid-morning, and we hung out upstairs for a bit while the Hubs was downstairs with Mr. Man. My contractions had spaced out to 30 minutes apart at this point, so we decided we needed to do something to get them going again. The Hubs and I went out into the wet and windy day and power walked (as much as a 39w 5d pregnant woman can power walk while waddling!) around the block. I had a few contractions while we walked, and the low cramping was constant the whole time. When we got back, the contractions had picked up, but not to the point they had been during the night.

I was feeling really discouraged and embarrassed that I had disturbed everybody’s day for what I was now convinced was false labour. I went up into our bedroom by myself and even googled “false labour” to read about it, the results making me even more discouraged. I even avoided updating my journal, thinking how disappointed my friends would be for the false alarm. I ended up in the shower, which was a nice warm haven and I had myself a very good cry. It was soon Mr. Man’s nap time, and to my amazement the contractions really began to pick up! I labored a bit in bed, but then moved downstairs and knelt on the floor. B called at that time to check on me, and after telling her “same old, same old”, she advised to call her if my water broke, or the contractions got stronger and closer together. It was around this time that AJ and Nat decided to go out and get lunch. As much as I love my friends, I was in such distress that they had come all the way out to end up leaving with my “false labour” that it was a bit of a relief to be with the Hubs alone again. I had another good cry, sharing my concern and embarrassment about my “false labour”. The Hubs was wonderful as always and listened to my concerns and then reassured me…although I didn’t believe him! The girls brought back subway for lunch, and the food tasted sooo good! Unfortunately for me, I had a contraction with a full mouth, and that was no fun! Turns out that sub was the last thing I ate all day! It was at this time I decided to stop tracking contractions as it seemed to stress me out more that just letting them happen. Best decision ever. AJ and Nat kept track of them without me knowing, which was so helpful. Every once in a while I would ask if they were getting closer, and they would reassure me they were…turns out they were merely humouring me, and the contractions were staying anywhere from 8-15 minutes apart.

Around 3pm, AJ and Nat convinced me (aka bullied me!) into going to the grocery store to pick up some essentials. I finally had to admit I truly didn’t want to go because I have an insane fear of the embarrassment of my water breaking in public, not to mention looking like a fool in the middle of a contraction in public. But they won, and I was bundled into the car. Turns out this trip to the store was one of the best things ever for labour. I had numerous (embarrassing!) contracting in the store, and after refusing the walk across the parking lot to the coffee house and insisting on driving there, had one of the most excruciating contractions waiting while the girls were inside. I should have known then things were happening. Contractions + car suck!

My mom arrived around 4:30pm, and by that time the contractions were started to pick up again. Having Mr. Man down for his nap, and definitely getting out and walking around the grocery store had allowed me to relax a bit, and this relaxing was what I needed to let my labour start up again. I had briefly entertained the idea of calling my mom and cancelling her, thinking I wasn’t in true labour (that darn self-doubt again!), but decided to just roll with it and hope for the best. I had 2 contractions while she was getting Mr. Man ready to leave, and I remember thinking that I was happy Mr. Man would get to hang out with his Nana, but would they just GO ALREADY! This should have been an indicator to me I was really truly in labour!!

B called soon after Mr. Man left, and let me know she was planning on coming out to see me after another woman who was in the hospital. I jumped into the shower after talking to her, and had the Hubs bring in Mr. Man’s stereo and get me some good rock music. His choice of soundtrack was inspired – my CD of the music fro the TV show “Las Vegas”. I found myself on my hands and knees leaning on the birthing ball in the shower with the massage function pointing at my back, singing along with the CD at the top of my voice. Pure freedom! After a bit I stood up and leaned against the wall, and tried to “dance” along with the music, doing hip sways and rocks. The hot water began to run out after the sixth song, and without the hot water the contractions, which had really picked up, began to be very painful, needing my complete focus to relax through them. I got out of the shower and put on shorts and a long t-shirt. I went downstairs, and the contractions continued on, much to my relief. I found myself laboring on my knees leaning against our black leather chair, and needed AJ to put counter pressure against my lower back/hips. The contractions definitely were getting stronger, I focused on them excluding everything else.

B came to the house around 6pm, and we went upstairs to our bedroom for her to check me. I was 3cm dilated, but about 80% effaced. B was afraid I would be discouraged, but in reality I was happy to have it confirmed I was progressing! I think this was the first time all day I began to believe I was truly in labour! After she checked me, she set up her equipment in our bedroom, and seeing her set up was exactly what I needed to build my confidence that I wasn’t in fact in false labour, and that I hadn’t called in the troops for nothing. I was imagining I would labour into the wee hours of the morning, and said as much to B. She looked at me, laughed and said I’d be calling her in 2 hours, at 8pm. This, I could not believe, instead thinking she was trying to build up my confidence. Little did I know you should never doubt a midwife with so much experience!

After B left, it felt like time was suspended. The contractions started coming closer together and lasting longer, taking my breath away and I had to vocalize to get through them. AJ and Nat again bullied me (I say this with affection, AJ’s ability to pay “bad cop” with me is legendary and one of the reasons I wanted her for the birth!) into going for a walk, but I was stubborn and only consented to walking around our little grassy square with The Hubs. I had to stop 4-5 times in that little distance, the contractions were very strong, and I could not walk through them. When the Hubs and I returned, it was as if a flip had been thrown – I went into a zone and lived from contraction to contraction. I don’t remember anything specific for the next 2 hours. My whole being was focused on staying on top of each contraction. I needed to vocalize through them, I started with words that would help me focus, such as “control”, “low”, and “open”. I remember at one point wondering where everyone was, thinking Nat was in the kitchen and I was scaring her! Poor woman is due with her second in late July, and the thought kept passing through my mind that she would run to the hospital for an epidural!

I was staying in much the same position for the contractions, leaning up against a wood dresser we had just moved to the top of the basement stairs that was the new home for Mr. Man’s diapers. On top of the dresser was a pile of clean diapers and fabric from my sewing projects, and I loved nothing better than burying my face in the soft cloth and to smell the cleanness during contractions. At one point I tried to make a (lame) joke about how glad I was that they were indeed clean diapers! Sometime in here AJ and the Hubs had thought to chew some gum to get ride of some garlic breath, and having them beside me with the mint in my face was so distracting, but I couldn’t waste the energy telling them, until one point when I just yelled at The Hubs quickly between contractions “LOSE THE GUM!” Of course they all found this funny, and I’m sure I will never live that down!

The contractions soon reached a point where my knees would almost buckle from the intensity (dare I say PAIN!). I remember thinking that I was not dealing so well with this pain, and as the midwife was only just here I couldn’t be farther than 4 or maybe if I was lucky 5 cm. I thought of my friend Heidi, laboring all by herself through transition thinking she was in early labour. I didn’t want to get my hopes up that I could possibly be progressing, even when I started losing control and moaning that “I can’t do this!” That should have been my indication I truly was going through transition! Nat, AJ and The Hubs were suggesting that it was time to call the midwives back, but I was in complete denial I could have progressed passed 5 cm, and didn’t want to “cry wolf”, or have the midwives here too early and potentially stale my labour. I was SO delusional!!!

I moved back to the black chair at this point, thinking I should open my hips to move the baby on down. The contractions were so intense I started to lose control, and it wasn’t until I turned my head and focused on AJ’s eyes, maintaining eye contact through the contraction that I felt a bit more in control. Too bad the cats decided then would be a good time to come investigate, and she had to break contact to shush them away. I would gladly have strangled someone at that point to get her eyes back!

The chair wasn’t doing it for me anymore, so I move back to the dresser. Moaning and my control words weren’t cutting it either, and I started to count *very* loudly. Counting really let me control the contractions, knowing I just had to get to 30 before the pain would start to go away. I remember staring at the wall counting at the top of my lungs (dare I say yelling at the top of my lungs?!) and thinking our neighbors must be wondering what was going on! I guess I was counting very slowly because the contraction data Nat (who wasn’t in fact hiding in the kitchen, but was sitting behind me the whole time!) was keeping showed they were 90 seconds long! After the fact, the Hubs old me I wasn’t actually counting in sequence – what to me were orderly numbers were in fact just coming out randomly!
I moved back to the black chair, and it was at this point, as I was shouting out my “numbers” that my mouth opened and I said “Call the midwives”. I still don’t know what it was that made me say it at that time, as that contraction wasn’t noticeably different from the others, but it’s a good thing that something possessed me to say it then. Nat hopped on the phone and called the midwives, and as I moved back to the dresser I felt a “pop” and gush as my water broke! It was 8pm on the dot. My water just kept gushing, almost pulsing out, and my gut reaction was to demand if it was clear or not! Thankfully, it was indeed clear, all was well with baby! I said “my water broke!” and the Hubs and AJ came running with a towel to lay on the floor beneath me. My shorts and under wear were soaked, and it just kept coming. The Hubs asked me what it felt like, and all I could come up with was “like I’m peeing myself”. Classy, no?

Nat had been keeping track of my contractions during this last bit:
08:09:21 pm 08:10:11 pm 50 secs 1 mins, 37 secs
08:07:43 pm 08:08:54 pm 1 mins, 10 secs 1 mins, 44 secs
08:05:59 pm 08:06:49 pm 50 secs 3 mins, 32 secs
08:02:26 pm 08:03:43 pm 1 mins, 17 secs 2 mins, 1 secs
08:00:24 pm 08:01:29 pm 1 mins, 4 secs 2 mins, 38 secs
07:57:47 pm 07:58:55 pm 1 mins, 8 secs 1 mins, 47 secs
07:55:59 pm 07:57:25 pm 1 mins, 25 secs

They were coming closer and closer together and were right up there in intensity. I distinctly remember saying “these feel like pitocin contractions!” because boy did they ever! I can still not believe the whole body experience, how the contractions overshadowed any other sensation/feeling at the time. I was consumed with living from contraction to contraction.

B came in at 8:05pm, and came over to me. She was able to get my attention, and had me change my breathing, from the loud counting to low moaning or singing. She had me go upstairs, which was a production as I had numerous contractions on the way. I ended up going up the stairs on my hands and feet, and thought briefly how funny it was as I was just in my underwear and shirt at this point, the horrid view for those behind me!

Once in our bedroom, B wanted me to lie down on my back to check me. The Hubs took off my underwear, and I know I really resented and dreaded laying on my back. I tried to get her to check me quickly between contractions, but one started just as she finished. I quickly rolled over to my hands and knees to move during the contractions, I had to keep my hips moving to help the pain. At this point B went out of the room to call the second midwife, and I was later told that she said “how fast can you get here?” It was 8:13pm, and I was 9cm dilated, with a lip remaining. As B was on the phone, I tried to stand up to get of the bed, but another contraction hit and I put my head down on AJ’s shoulder and felt my body start to push. I yelled out “I’m pushing!” and B came right back in and said to try to breath through it. Yeah…right. My body was just pushing, I couldn’t stop it anymore than you could stop the tide. At the end of that one push, I felt “the ring of fire”. Ho boy did they name that right!! I know I said “Ring of fire!! RING OF FIRE!” and AJ said “The baby’s coming!” and B said “Pant, I have to get my gloves on!”

But nope, Miss A was not waiting, my body gave another great push and pop, her head was out. Yes, pop, I remember it feeling like a cork popping out of a bottle. Her body just sort of slithered out next, and B put her on the bed underneath me and between my knees. My shirt was so big though that I couldn’t see her, and as B tried to pass her through to me she got snagged in my shirt. I leaned over to the side, untangled my shirt, and there, in all her beautiful glory was my daughter!

She looked so tiny! “It’s a baby!” I cried out, feeling tears running down my face. AJ was at my head and I feel her hugging me. “Is it a girl?!” I demanded, and the Hubs laughed and said yes. I then remember thinking I wanted to lay down, and asked if I could move, but B asked me to wait as the cord was still attached. The Hubs cut her cord after a minute or two, and I flopped to my left on my back. The relief of no contractions felt so heavenly, I blurted out “This feels SO GOOD!” to which B laughed. There was a little debate as to whether she was born at 8:15pm or 8:18pm, but B went with her time of 8:15pm.

I was looking over at Miss A and she was so white because she was so covered in vernix. I was worried because I couldn’t hear her crying and I know I demanded to know if she was ok. AJ was helping B at that point as obviously the second midwife wasn’t there. I demanded “AJ, tell me my baby is alright!” And she looked me right in the eyes and said “yes, she’s absolutely perfect”. Those are, and always will be, the four most beautiful words I have ever heard. I knew I could trust my baby girl to AJ so I laid back and watched all that was going on around me. Nat was taking pictures of Miss A, AJ and B were with Miss A and the Hubs was beside me. I cannot fully explain the feeling of amazement and joy that washed over me in those moments. It was like I was looking down on everything in a golden glow. I couldn’t believe I had just given birth, at home, by myself, and my girl was perfect. B passed her to me and I held her and just soaked in her beauty. She had her eyes open, they were so dark! The contractions started again 5 minutes after Miss A was born, and I pushed out the placenta. B took it over to the end of the bed to check it out, and came back to help massage my uterus. Once that was done, I striped down to get skin to skin with her at this point, as things had happened to fast I was still wearing my bra! The other midwife, Celeste, soon arrived, and she helped me get all cleaned up while I held Miss A. The Hubs looked over at me at this point, while I was holding Miss A, and asked “so is this our little Miss A?”

The name was just perfect for her, and we just knew she was an Miss A. The hard name game was over!
It was then time for B checked me, and it turned out that even with Miss A’s fast arrival, my perineum was completely intact, not a single tear! I credit this to delivering on my hands and knees and letting my body dictate when to push and how to push. I was so happy and weirdly proud (!) to hear I had no tears!

I rolled over to the Hubs’s side of the bed (Miss A was born on my side!) and realized I was shaking a bit, I think I was a bit in shock over how fast everything had happened. I was holding Miss A, and someone got some blankets to cover us with. Nat and AJ were standing beside me, and the Hubs was right on my other side, and it felt like we were all on an adrenaline high, talking and exclaiming ad admiring Miss A. I decided to try nursing Miss A at this point, and she took to it like a champ. She actually didn’t want to unlatch to get her stats checked, so the Hubs called all our family and friends but couldn’t tell them how much she weighted or anything!

Finally I decided I wanted to get cleaned up, so I unlatched Miss A (she was not happy!) and handed her to C to do the newborn physical.

We found out she weighted 7lbs 15oz, and was 21 inches long. She was perfect indeed.

B helped me into the shower, it was quite comical actually, as I had to walk with a whole bunch of towels between my legs to get there! Once in the shower I washed my hair and soaped myself down before B came back to help me out. I got all dried off, got my undercarriage properly adorned and my nightgown on before going back into our bedroom to a clean, made, bed and a dressed baby. Her first clothes were her hot pink monkey doodles diaper and a baby pink bunny sleeper. And of course her striped hat that daddy picked out.

I crawled back into bed and we took some more pictures.

By now the midwives had everything all cleaned up and they went downstairs to write up all their paperwork. I got a delicious muffin that Nat had made earlier in the day and gobbled that down as we all sat around admiring Miss A. It was so cool to have my two best friends, my husband and my brand new baby girl just chilling in bed. I was so happy and relaxed, words cannot describe how wonderful it was! The midwives came back up at about 10:30pm to say goodbye, and the girls went down and got us dinner – turns out Nat had been super busy in the kitchen, not only whipping up muffins but making a ham and scalloped potatoes too! Food never tasted so delicious.

After eating, the girls got all packed up and hit the road around 11pm, they both needed to get back to their families. I was so sad to see them go, it was like sudden end to an amazing day. Having them leave made it a bit more real that it was over. The quiet house was a bit overwhelming. Miss A was fast asleep, and the Hubs and I soon joined her.

All together now...

2009-06-06T00:00:00.002-04:00

June 3 082, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!

What is it that makes sleeping little boys so freaking cute? Cabbage patch doll aside (extra awwwww for that please, thank you) the peaceful expression, the messy hair, the superman pajamas...

Adorable.

But.

You know what is the best part of this photo? It's the sleeping part.

Because all too often,

this

is what I have to take pictures of. Not quite so "awwwww" inspiring, eh?

hehe, wakes up just like his momma!

She hath brung forth new life!!

2009-06-01T22:56:00.002-04:00

feb 17 069, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Miserable no longer, AJ, one of my blonde bombshell best friends (yes, there are two of them. I'm cursed) is now a proud mommy Squared!

Sunday morning she welcome a beautiful baby girl into the world...at home! AJ, being a serious ER nurse, thought I was off my rocker, bonkers, certifiable, when I decided to birth my own dear daughter at home. She came and was with me anyways, but up until Sunday, swore up, down and sideways that *she* was going to birth in the hospital.

Well. Her little bundle of pink joy decided otherwise, making her grand entrance too fast for any mention of hospital - the midwives got there in time to close the windows (bombshell #1 is a bit of a screamer, it turns out!) and catch.

How freaking cool is that?

I can't tell you how proud I am of my little bombshell. She birthed that baby like nobody's business! She had her doubts about whether she could birth au naturel, regardless of the setting, but look, she did.

Because....wait for it...wait for it...

Birth.is.not.scary.
Birth.is.normal.

Oh wow, did I just blow your mind? I bet I did. But it's true. Every one of us is the product of an unbroken line of birthing woman. Woman birthing during wars, famines, in fields, caves, by themselves...all done. All birthed. Birth is not only wonderful, birth is normal.

Isn't that simple normal fact awesome?! I think so too!

Hearing all 'bout AJ's fantastic birth made me all mushy and gushy for my own homebirth. And since the hubs "shipping" department is close for business, reminiscing is all I can do. Want to do it with me? I think it's about time to post my own home birth story. My own birth story full of birthing goodness!

Feels like home!

2009-06-01T22:36:00.001-04:00

may 10 021, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

The hubs and I have been spending practically every minute we're not sleeping, eating, wiping butts, fetching sippy cups, tucking in blankets, stacking blocks, making choo-choo sounds and folding laundry on house projects. So, practically none. D'oh. But we're trying! We did succeed in putting up hanging baskets, which I just adore!! Doesn't the purple just to sign to your heart?

No?

oh. Well, you are just a freak then, because that purple should sign to everyone's heart. It's pretty. It's beautiful. That one plant is doing veyr well.

Now it's brother, on the other post not in view, isn't doing so well. It's not protected by the garage, which means it gets a.lot. of wind. And it's not happy. So while this one makes me happy, it's poor brother makes me sad. It's a rough life.

Moving on...this weekend we are going to tackle - raised flower beds in the back and front!! Pictures will be taken, I promise.

Am I a morning person?

2009-05-28T23:14:00.001-04:00

may 25 130, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Nope.

OH HELL NO.

Not, might I say, in the least. There is barely anything redeeming about mornings. There's the sluggish feelings, the overwhelming decisions - clothing, shower, beauty products, finding matching socks, and then the food, finding food to feed to not only yourself, but multiple little ones is daunting to say the least.
Not to mention you have to Make, and then wait for the caffeine to KICK IN! Oh the humanity!

Not being a morning person was fine when you are a teenager - hell, it's expected.

What I want to know is when being a morning person all of a sudden became cool. Desired... sought after and worst of all - expected.

For the record, waking up beside this little munckin in the mornings is the one redeeming quality.

29 and holding

2009-05-25T00:41:00.002-04:00

Saturday was my 29th birthday. My first 29th birthday. You see, I've been doing a whole heck of a lot of thinking lately, and I've decided something simple. My twenties have been good to me - I graduated University, got married, had 2 babies, bought a house...yup, twenties have been good! Twenties have been so good I decided I just won't leave.

So next year, on May 23rd, feel free to wish me Happy Anniversary.

This lady ain't going anywhere near 30.

I've got to wonder though...Do I get chocolate cake for my "Anniversary" parties? And presents? I sure hope so. And no diaper duty. And breakfast in bed. Because all of that this year was rockin'. My husband did well.

To go, or not to go

2009-05-15T00:08:00.002-04:00

That is the question.

I'm about to date myself here. I'm a bit scared, so you'll have to promise me you'l still love me when you find out how old (young) I truly am.

I got an invitation for my high school 10 year reunion

yup.

10 years.

In case the math is deceiving you at the moment, that makes me *almost* 29.

Hey - don't think like that - back when I was in High School, Ontario had a standard 5th year of high school if you were continuing on to University. Dudes, really. Like I would spend more time in High School than absolutely necessary!

Ok. So. the invitation. ugh. To go or not to go.

Thoughts? Experiences? Next post tomorrow I'll expand on my high school experiences...

I was in the band.

I went to band camp.

I was a camp counsellor at band camp.

I played the Baritone and Trombone. No flute, thank god.

I played on the tennis team, soccer team, was on the yearbook committee.

I drank for the big parties, never did drugs or smokes, went to 3 proms with 1 limo and...

I married my high school sweetheart.

I know, i am a conundrum.

But I had some great friends

Maybe....

2009-05-14T01:24:00.001-04:00

may 9 018-1, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

if *I* could fall asleep while eating I wouldn't be stuck with eating carrots and lettuce trying to loose weight.

Someone pass the sedatives please!

So I sayz to it cheese, "Fuhgeddaboutit!"

2009-05-09T22:37:00.001-04:00

may 9 016, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Some days, I don't cook lunch.

*gasp* *shudder* *faint*

I know, I know, I should go to the box and feel shame.

Some days we've been out all morning running errands, and some mornings we've been inside in our pajamas the whole time. And yet other mornings...wait, is there another kind of morning?
Well, regardless, somedays I just can't bring myself to cook. So we make smorgasborgs.

I love me some smorgasborgs.

A smorgasborg is pretty much whatever you want it to be. In this case, it was some veggie chips, cheese, olives, grapes, pickles and yogurt. Sight unseen was the hard boiled egg, but that never lasts long on a plate! I try to hit as many food groups as time, and my fridge, will allow. And it takes all of 5 seconds, which could be argued as being an even better quality as nutritionally equipped some days.

Try it. You'll love it.

The tongue has it.

2009-05-09T21:20:00.001-04:00

may 4 011, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Very nice, son, thank you SO much for sharing. SO much. How did you know that your tongue, in all it's glistening glory, was exactly what I needed to see. Seriously, how did you know? Cause I sure didn't know, but now I know. Know I do.

What is with my children and tongues? I swear my co-parent, sperm donor, husband o'-mine has a normal tongue, as do I (promise). So where oh where do these tongues come from?

Please tell me I'm not the only mother honoured in such a way. You have kids who do this too, right? RIGHT?! Anyone, anyone? Bueller, Bueller?

Look! Look look look!!

2009-05-05T22:18:00.002-04:00

It's so exciting, i could pee my pants. It's the kind of excitement that keeps you up at night, gets you out of bed in the morning and makes you want to call every contact in your address book.

It's spine tingling, leg jiggling, teeth chattering, tummy tumbling, hair raising, toe curling, finger flexing, lip smacking, thigh clenching... pure, unadulterated joy.

People...

I found my vacuum

Thank you.

How I do breakfast sandwiches.

2009-05-05T22:03:00.004-04:00

I like wearing my pajamas. I like it alot.

A real lot.

The problem with that is I also love the Coffee shop phenomena know as breakfast sandwiches. Oh yum, oh super super yum.

But being a pj lover makes getting my own breakfast sandwiches difficult, seeing as how I'm the new girl on the block and don't want my neighbors to *know* I'm a pj wearing SAHM. Just because the mail man, appliance repair man, tile guy, garbage man, gas guy and Newspaper girl know, doesn't mean it's ok that my neighbors know, ya know? Good, I'm glad you followed the logic on that one. It's simple, I swear.

So where does that leave little old me? PJ clad but with nary a sammie in sight. It's sad.

So I fixed it.

HOBOY did I fix it, yum!

See, i discovered this lone, sorely neglected roll of pillsbury crescent rolls (yum).

And then I found some cheese. And leftover blackforest ham.

And a light bulb went off.

yup, i did that. And they were goooood.

But I didn't stop there.

And if you can keep a secret, I'll tell you. Shhhh, this is between you and me, k? ok.

I made chocolate ones too

It was only logical that I sprinkle some sugar on the chocolate ones, you know, so I could tell them apart when I go to put the leftovers away (haha, leftovers, I so funny)

DEAR LORD were they good. oh man, the melted cheese, the hot ham, the light and fluffy and buttery goodness of the bun....
yeah. YUM.

hey, it's not a Julia Child's recipe. But dammit, it's good.

It's spring, it's spring!!!

2009-05-05T21:56:00.003-04:00

There is life in them thar plants! And green in them thar grasses! YAY! Colour! Smells! textures!!

I'm a good canadian girl people, I promise. I do winter, I actually *like* winter. I skate, I cross-country ski, i build snowmen. I especially like the hot chocolate and chili parts as well.

But dudes...SPRING!! It has sprung!!

It's time to kick off the winter boots and frolick outside, have some green grass tickle fests, break out the soccer balls and bust out the golf clubs.

I'm so happy.

And while I'm happily snapping away picture, I turn around and find these crazy two, doing....

wait, what the hell? What ARE they doing? It's a man thing, isn't it? This whole open mouth thing? No self-respecting woman would do that, right?

Smile and nod damn you, smile and nod.

Thank you

Guess what I did today!!

2009-05-05T00:19:00.003-04:00

Go on, guess. Bet you can't get it. Nope, not this one. This one is good. well, actually, it's bad, but it's a good game.

Today, I discovered sunshine in my basement. Sunshine coming from the HOLE in my main floor.

Nope, not kidding

Hello Sunshine! Where dd you come from? And WTF are you doing in my brand new house?!

Oh. I see how it is. You came to torture me.
And prove that new houses do indeed contain much crappy craftmanship. damn you

Someone along the way thought it would be a good idea to cut TWO vent holes in the sub-floor by my front door. And then install only 1 heating duct. And leave the other hole just hanging out. Because it must be cool. AND THEN some tile guy thought it would be a very cool idea to just, you know, TILE over the hole!! YAHOOOO!! I mean, why not, right? Tile was design to just float on a bed of mud and mesh, it doesn't need anything strong underneath it to keep it from cracking, right?

No?

oh.

oups.

Not surprisingly, my angry voice conveyed itself remarkably well over the phone as I had workmen at my door minutes later to fix the "issue". All in all, it only too them 6 hours to fix it. Not bag for a bunch of men actually!

We can thank my 3 year old son for finding the hole in my floor. Don't even get me started on the nightmares playing through my head of everything that could have happened with such a jagged sharp tile and no sub-floor. Imagines of blood and broken bones and babies crying haunt me. And will be haunting the builders and tile company when I am through with them, don't you worry.

It's catching, you'd better run far far away

2009-05-05T00:18:00.001-04:00

may 4 152, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

And it's not the Swine flu either people. Errr, sorry, I mean the hiney flu. You know, H1N1? yeah, not that.

It's the baby bug.

And Miss A totally caught her Uncle and his significant other hook, line and sinker. I mean, *I* know she's adorable and wonderful and everything that is perfect in a baby, But now they know it too. And she loves them for it, because really, who doesn't love being loved?

Miss A's Uncle, My brother-in-law, is a cool guy to begin with. I've know him since he was knee high to a grasshopper, so it's been very cool to watch him grow up. And grow he did. Dude is now a pro hockey player way on over in Germany, which is sad since my kids don't get to see him often. Practically never. But it's happy because he's doing something he loves, and gets paid....well....rather well for doing it. AND because he doesn't even know of my little blog, and I have no intention of EVER telling anyone I know IRL about this beauty, I can nickname him anything I want. So I will. Bombshell best friend likes to refer to him as hot uncle S, so that's what he'll be. Not that *I* think he's hot, because dudes, he's my little brother-in-law. I knew him pre-puberty. But, yeah, he's Hot Uncle S.

But I digress. This is about Hot Uncle S (he is hot though, eh? I just didn't say that). No, it's about the baby bug that has infected Hot Uncle Simon and his significant other, who doesn't have a nickname yet, sorry. She's a pretty awesome person too, but i'm still getting to know her as she's been in Germany with H.U.S (did you get that?) since they started dating 9 months ago. But so far? Two thumbs up. She's cool. And she plays with my kids, and genuinely loves them, which means she's very cool. Maybe she should be the cool maybe-auntie (CMA). that's a fun name, eh?

ok, I digress again...lol

They were smitten.
HUS couldn't get enough of Miss A's cheeks. CMA couldn't get enough of the cuddling sweet smelly soft baby. And Miss A couldn't get enough of them. She was feeling under the weather, so everyone was happy with the snuggle time. She snuggled, she giggled, she held on tight. Basically she made is to they had no choice but to fall hopelessly in love with her, and the idea of babies in general. It's the baby bug curse in all it's glory. There is just something about holding a warm soft cuddly baby that makes you spontaneously ovulate.

And for the record, I am not to be held responsible if these two procreate any time soon. The blame for that lies squarely on Miss A's pink-clad shoulders.

I'm so sorry Hot Uncle S and Cool Maybe Auntie. But I do so look forward to cuddling your babies! Just please have them in this country, k? thanks.

My little Dolphin

2009-05-01T00:44:00.002-04:00

april 30 024, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

has a wee problem. Mr. Man, you see, does not like relaxing. Mr. Man does not relax people. Mr. Man jumps. runs. rolls. skips. climbs. He does not relax. Yet his swim instructors seem to think this skill is absolutely necessary for swimming.

Now, seeing as my preferred method of relaxing in the water involves an alcoholic beverage and some form of air filled plastic device, I might not be qualified to be an expert on relaxing in water. But really. A three year old, relax, in water, when there are toys nearby? I think not.

Of course, you could also ask my son to take a picture.

See the little girl beside him? See her pretending to take a picture of the instructor? And then do you see Mr. Man, eyes squished shut, hands over his face? Well friends, he too is pretending to take a picture of the instructor. A la Mr. Man. I'm guessing the instructor's idea to get them to see, and understand, how she wants them to float was lost of my boy. Yup, I guess so.

But hey, he's three. And he's cute.

He could get away with murder.

Seriously kids?

2009-04-23T22:30:00.003-04:00

Dear Children

I mean, seriously, really?

We have TOYS, KIDS!!! Real life, fun TOYS!!! metal, plastic, wood, TOYS!!!!

Why you insist on playing with non-toy items I know not. It is driving me insane. I did not pack 6 boxes of toys for them not be played with!! I have better things to do! Like...like...stuff. Yes, very very important stuff. Yes.I.Do. And this isn't about me anyways, this is about you, and you, and you both need to play with all the freaking toys I packed!

ok?

Thank you.

Love, your loving Mother.

I need your help, o'smart decor ones

2009-04-23T22:14:00.003-04:00

This is our new Huge Ass TV

And I don't know what to do with it. *We* don't know what to do with it.

Mount it? or buy a nice sofa table and screw that sucker into it.

Huge Ass TV is, well, huge. And huge = heavy. And heavy = me having nightmares of it smashing into a million useless expensive pieces on my floor. My brilliant idea to simply cut away some drywall and mount the wall mount directly to the wall studs was booed out the front door.

I mean, really, there are many many sticky fingers to touch it all over and do unmentionable things to it. It needs to be safe. Safe, and secure and away from the many small sticky fingers.

well OF COURSE I want it to be safe for them too, D'oh. Obviously man. I mean really.

But see, the problem is my husband, well, his handyman skills are...not proven. New. Unschooled and, well, unskilled. I'm scared. Add to that that my best friend (aka blonde bombshell #1)'s husband is similarily "talented" and you have two men who think they know what they are doing, who get mighty brave when you add beer into the mix.

I'm scared.

They scare me.

SO please, internetz, tell me what to do! Should I, could I, trust them to wall mount my Huge Ass TV?

P.S - Don't be looking at my mess now. I just moved! Cut a woman some slack, eh?

I like our house

2009-04-20T00:10:00.003-04:00

april 19 035.CRW, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

If I smiled any bigger, you'd be able to count my teeth.

oh, and Mr. Man likes it too. He just can't keep his feet on the ground!

Guess who's one!!

2009-04-20T00:03:00.002-04:00

april 19 399, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

This sweet baby girl sprung forth from my loins a short short year ago. *I* cannot believe it. My loins, well, they can believe it. But let's not talk about that now, m'kay?
Let's talk about my baby girl. My one year old. My crazy, stubborn, giggly, inquisitive, loving, beautiful daughter.

She likes to put food in her mouth. Likes it very much. I mean, why not, right? It's what all the people around her do, and sometimes *cough cough* a bit too much. Or too frequently, pick your poison. So she does it too. Monkey see, monkey do. We all live in a zoo.
While she's figured out the hand/mouth/food connection, what she can't seem to figure out is that *we* swallow. And oh lord please do not let me make a spit or swallow joke right now, it is trying to bubble up, but I am controlling it, i swear. ok, controlled. moving on. She likes to stuff her mouth as full as posible, and then when she's reached max. capacity, shove it all out with her mouth. D'oh. The messes she creates, i swear to god triple my laundry. My love affaire with my steam mop knows no bounds.

She has, to her great credit, figured out how to drink from a sippy cup. HIP HIP HOORAY!!! Celebrate with me people!! My boobs, they be free!!! I can come, I can go oh dear, ohhhh dear). That's not to say the boobs are not still in service, cause they are, just that they aren't the only gas station in town, ya know?
Or was that a bit of overshare? sorry.

She is so close to walking it's obscene. But she just won't. And really, why should she when she has her personal slave, aka momma, to carry her. to hold her and love her and kiss her sweet adorable baby head all the time.

What she does love right now are stairs. And what we have right now in this glorious new house are loads of stairs. Slippery Oak stairs, and ceramic tiles. Slippery stairs that a certain little lady falls off and bonks her gorgeous noggin on the hard ceramic tiles on. Her head is not nearly as monochromatic now as it was in this picture! Various shades of yellow, green and purple now contribute to her aura.

She loves animals. Especially when she is in her momma's arms.

She loves trains. Especially trains which her brother also loves, so that he squeals and thrashes around when she loves up ON them.

She loves her dadda. Especially when he tickles her special spot under her right arm with his stubble. The giggles people, OH THE GIGGLES! They would end wars. Create World Peace. These giggles.

She loves Michael Buble. Bedtime is not complete with his croning a melody for her sweet ears.

She loves the drums. Especially when she can snag the drum sticks to chew on.

She loves her toes. Her fingers. Chocolate, and her family. She's my daughter and I love her.

blows the dust off

2009-04-18T21:12:00.000-04:00

hellllllllllllllllo world wide web! I"m back!! I'm...wait, anybody here? jeez, i go and move and you all abandon me, what's up with that?! I am so not feeling the love when I have 0 emails. ZERO people. That's a bad number. That's a...huh, is zero a number? It's really nothing, so can nothing have a number? I dunno. thoughts? Feelings? Attitudes? ANYTHING?

If there is anyone out there still reading, we're here, at the new house! Move went off as smoothly as a week long move with 2 young children really can. We are settling in...and still driving back and forth to pick up yet move shit. We have TOO MUCH STUFF. It's official.
oh, and to add to the fun, I spent our first night and day in our new house puking my guts out. FUN! And now today the kids are both pukey. FUN! I'm worried for my new carpets.

well, not sure what else to say. I have about 6,0987,0897 pictures to download off my camera (ok, maybe just 678, but that's gonna take foreva!) but am just too lazy right now to do it. But I will. soon. Because I don't have much room left on my memory card! ha ha, ho ho. yeah.

Tell me you missed me. Tell me dammit.

Best toy ever review.

2009-04-10T21:23:00.003-04:00

The old. The classic. The cheap. The plentiful...

box.

Someone remind me why the kid has bins and bins of toys when a simple ol' box is his greatest love? SOMEONE?!

Where's the boy?!

Surprise!! he got you, didn't he? Sneaky bugger

Why being a kid rocks

2009-04-10T21:07:00.002-04:00

april 10 011, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

You get to lick the spoon.

Or spatula.

Or whatever this thing is called. Kitchen Aid people, help here?

But...

Being an adult sucks because then you have to clean this

What really blows chunks though is that I DID have all that packed.

Photo Editing Software what?

2009-04-09T20:02:00.001-04:00

april 3 008, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

I don't own photo editing software.

SURPRISE!

Not that I don't want to, oh contraire mes amies, I long for my very own copy of photoshop, whether it be Elements or...CS (*drool*). But alas, my computer hard drive is alone. Alone, lost in the vaste sea of solitary confinement, never to be allowed the joy of family, of hope, of photo editing.

It's like a timelife movie. It's ok to cry a bit. I understand.

I stare longingly at many photographers blogs, looking at all the cool things they do with photoshop. And least we not forget all the cool actions Pioneer Woman has on her site. Oh man how I want them. I could play forever and forever with photoediting, if I had it. But I don't. All I have is whatever small things flickr (or photobucket) allow me to tweak.

I feel like a kid wearing "Prado" shoes instead of Prada, hoping nobody will notice. And then part of me laughs at the Prada kids because inside I'm just teaming with jealousy. It's like 3rd grade all over again.

A tale of two siblings

2009-04-09T17:01:00.001-04:00

april 3 027, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

One of a bagillion outakes I have of my kidlets, this one just makes me giggle. It is SO my kids. Mr Man on the left, being all wild and crazy and will.not.sit.still.to.save.his.life while his sister just chills all relaxed on the right.

We need not mention the food stains on Miss A's shirt, ok? Because the whole "will not eat" thing she's got going on is driving me bonkers! Sure, she'll put the food in her mouth, move it around, slobber all over it...but then out it comes! And let me tell you something, interwebz peeps, slobbered on mushed up food makes a huge ass mess. HUGE. Like a "thank god I'm moving next week and never have to look at this destroyed carpet ever again" huge mess.

Last, but certainly not least, please not how much they look alike. And then please note how much they look like their father. and THEN please note how much the little buggers look NOTHING at all like ME, their mother!! Their home for 9 months, the giver of life, the maker of food, the very reason for their being. Yes, that me.

Deceptively cute

2009-04-06T09:00:00.001-04:00

april 6 027, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

A big brother comforting his upset little sister. Providing guiding words, comforting gestures and a soothing touch.

Or...

A big brother intent on tormenting his little sister. Inserting a wet finger into her tender young ear canal in his newly acquired favourite game - Wet Willy.

If you guessed the second, you would be correct. Oh the horror!

Crying a bit inside

2009-04-06T08:32:00.002-04:00

And....maybe a bit on the outside too.

The chaos that surrounds me is just too much. I.can't.do.anything. I'm stubbing toes on boxes, scrapping my skins on bins, losing pens, tape, books, my sanity amongst the piles.
Dude, this suuucks.

And my kitchen? Do not even get me started on my kitchen. It's not a kitchen, it's the crater from some alien bomb. A bomb set to destroy the human race...by making it unable to cook. Clever bastards

Who's bright idea was it to move anyways, huh?! Who's bright idea was it to have SO MUCH STUFF?!

And if all that was not enough to make me cry on this horrible Monday morning...

This is what is outside my window

Think the three year old can make breakfast for himself and his little sister while I curl into the fetal position under my duvet?

Silent Night

2009-04-05T22:55:00.002-04:00

Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright...

or not.

My family has finally emerged from the dark ages
We bought Rockband. No, wait, the husband is correcting me (who reads over someone else's shoulder anyways I ask you?!) We bought Guitar Hero World Tour. Excuuuuuuse me monsieur.

I, for one, will mourn my peace. My silent, calm and bright nights. And days. oh how I miss my quiet days.

Chicks dig scars

2009-04-02T23:14:00.002-04:00

Keanu Reeves said so. I know because I"m a movie buff and think repeating movie quotes ad nauseum is great fun. Just because 99% of the time other people don't get the hilarity that is moi doesn't mean I'll stop. I am lucky enough to have a husband who thinks movie quotes are equally hilarious, and this is why we will be together until the end of time. I very much expect we will have movie quotes on our headstones. We are COOL dammit!

Chicks dig scars. This is what my three year old will tell you when he proudly shows off his own scar. And then start clucking like a chicken, because really, when you are three, chicks are baby chickens. Can't fault the dude's reasoning.

Wanna see my little guy's scar? It's healing up nicely.

Eat your oats!

2009-04-02T22:36:00.003-04:00

I love oatmeal. In case you haven't already guessed. Yup, oatmeal is what the cool kids are eating. I promise. Just ask me. I know, I'm a a cool kid. or I was. Once. In my imagination. But I digress.

I rediscovered this recipe of my moms as I was packing up my cookbooks, and had to give it a whirl. My delicious memories of this simple dessert didn't lie to me. These are as good as I remember, and as easy. So easy my barely three year old made them. If I could only teach him how to whip up some chicken cacciatore I'd be one happy momma.

Make these. with your kids. They'll love it. And so will your belly. And boobs, if you are a breastfeeder like me.

BUTTERSCOTCH OAT SQUARES

2 cups quick or instant oats
1 cup brown sugar (packed)
1/2 cup melted butter
1/2 tsp vanilla

(1) Mix oats and brown sugar, mix in butter and
vanilla.

(2) Spread mixture into a 9x13 pan. Bake at 375 deg. F for
10 minutes or until it looks golden-brown.
Squares will be soft, but will harden when cool.

(3) Allow to cool for 5 minutes, then mark in squares
with a sharp knife. Loosen edges and allow to
cool before removing from pans.

Oh, and while I'm tossing out recipes, I may as well add in the healthier version of the oatmeal cookies i made back here. Those are yummy, these are yummy but without all that yummy butter. Huh, can they be as yummy without the yummy butter? I'm not too sure about that. Maybe I should just make both at the same time and taste test. yup, my butt would surely thank me for that!

Healthy Lactation Cookies (with Honey) a la redcanuck
Ingredients:
Dry ingredients
• 2 cup whole wheat flour (a pinch more depending on the moisture of the mix)
• 3 cups of Large Flake Rolled Oats (smaller flake is ok too)
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 Tbsp Cinnamon
• 2 Tablespoons Brewer’s Yeast
Wet ingredients
• 1 cup honey (spray measuring cup with oil to ease the honey out easier, or measure the olive oil first)
• 2/3 cup olive oil
• 1/3 cup Applesauce
• 2 Tablespoon Maple Syrup
• 1 egg (beat with 1 Tbsp Water)
• 2 Tablespoons Vanilla
• 2 Tablespoons Ground Flaxseed, mixed with 4 Tablespoons water
Yummy ingredients
• 1 cup raisins and/or
• 1 cup dried cranberries and/or
1 cup chocolate chips
Preparation:
1. In a large bowl, mix all the dry ingredients together.
2. Form a well in the middle of the dry ingredients, and add wet ingredients into the well.
3. Mix the wet stuff with the dry stuff. Add the raisins and walnuts and mix. If the mixture seems too wet, add a bit of flour. If it isn't binding together very well, you may wish to add an egg white.
4. COOL the mix for 20 minutes in the fridge.
5. Preheat the oven to 335 degrees (lower temperature due to the honey in the recipe which will burn more easily).
6. Drop by teaspoonfuls onto your baking sheet (I recommend lining the baking sheet with parchment paper). Press down with a fork to ensure even cooking.
7. Bake for about 15 - 20 minutes or until golden on the bottom of the cookie. The cookies freeze very well and make a great snack! Enjoy.

Oh the Humanity!

2009-04-02T21:32:00.003-04:00

While there was no Zeppelins crash landing in a halo of flames and no lives lost, Miss A is still devastated.

You see, internet world, her mean mommy made her wear a dress

A pink, fluffy, glittery, bow decorated, tulle constructed dress. All for my own evil pleasure.

*insert evil laugh*

The way I see it, I have a small window of time, and opportunity, to be able to impose my will upon her wardrobe, and I for one intend to slip on as many of these pink pieces of perfection to the bitter end.

And if she needs therapy, that's ok. I have a great therapist that got me through all my repressed memories of being a redhead little girl forced to wear pink :D

oh, and I did it twice. Common, there were TWO dresses! what else was I suppose to do?!

Not the oatmeal of your nightmares

2009-04-01T11:54:00.002-04:00

No gruel substances here. Nope, not in my house, let me tell you. Oatmeal is revered as a member of the family. A much loved child even. Lt me tell you - not only for assisting me to sprout white milky goodness from my ample bosom (err, sorry i just said that), but also because it's cheap and healthy. Lowers your cholestrol and all that jazz. But...really, it's just plain yummy. It's an empty canvas. And canvasses long for decorations.

Today? Today is "I need to go to the grocery store" day, a la Mother Hubberd, so I delved deep. Deep deep down in my deeper than deep nether regions and pull force the most amazing of all inventions...
Frozen fruit

and maple syrup

oh heavens was it yummy. I am in a lactating daze here, yum.

I ran away and joined the circus

2009-03-31T16:58:00.002-04:00

It was fabulous. Trapeze artist, clown, juggler, elephants...

oh wait, that's just my three year old. Huh. And the circus was just my half packed house. Huh. Not nearly as fun - all the popcorn and peanut shells on the floor are waiting for ME to clean them up, not some faceless cleaning wonder. That part sucks.

Not that I'm admitting to popcorn and peanuts on my floor.

Cause I'm not

And you can't make me

So there

naner naner

Right

ok then. um...moving on...

Miss A got new teeth!

Hello, Canon? Interested?

2009-03-27T22:41:00.006-04:00

I think Girlfriend has decided she's going to join Team Canon, just like her mama. So there Team Nikon! No way you've got a cute spokesperson like this available!

ok, ok, you got me, i didn't take this pictures in the hopes that Miss A would become a model for canon, thus ensuring herself a phat college fund. In reality, giving Miss Thang the camera lens cap is the easiest way to keep her adorable little fingers off my lens! Busted. sorry

Obsessing

2009-03-25T23:30:00.003-04:00

I got to spend some time today wandering around Home Depot, and got caught up in the gardening area. I happily daydreamed about all the gloriousness I could plant this summer in my very own soil, in my very own backyard. Flowers, vegetables, FLOWERS! Have I mentioned Flowers?

I love flowers

They make me smile

*sigh* let's have a quiet moment and dream of some flowers, k?

Flexing my creative muscles

2009-03-25T09:04:00.002-04:00

I think they are somewhere around here. Maybe.

A few friends and I deided to celebrate the first day of spring last week by taking pictures that represented Spring in our respective global locations. I admit to being fiercely jealous of seeing beautiful flowers and sandy beaches and glorious swimming pools some people got to show off. But I'm sure someone was jealous of my glorious, beautiful, awe-inspiring...mud. And ice. And construction. Yay canadian spring!

Ice ice baby

A true sign of spring - bikes!

Spring = construction season can begin, boo

Nope, no green grass here.

Or here. Lots of ice though, boo

And just had to check, nope, no buds

Spring!!

2009-03-24T13:53:00.002-04:00

Soon, soon, we will see spring outside, and not just as a date on the calendar.

It's started - there is no more snow on the ground (weeee!), the temperature goes up into the positives (every once in a while) and we have donned our spring jackets!

Putting away winter jackets has got to be one of the high lights of spring time. After wearing it for 6 months straight, it gets old. Real old. It's so nice to wash it one final time and put it away in storage. Spring jackets are just so happy!

Miss A, in particular, has a pretty sweet spring jacket. My gorgeous girl gets compliments on it all the time.
Which I always find hilarious, because let's face it...I have no fashion sense. How I manage to dress my daughter in such a way as to always get compliments is beyond me. My own clothes are uninspired at the best, and embarrassing at the worst. But we won't go there.

Why I prefer contacts

2009-03-23T13:56:00.002-04:00

yeah. uh-huh. Try seeing with those smudges. Cute, yes, annoying, hell yes.

Oh, and do you have any idea how hard it is to take a picture, in focus, when you *aren't* wearing your glasses and have a -8.5 presciption? yeah. I've got da skillz ;)

Food = Faces

2009-03-23T13:45:00.006-04:00

My dearest darling little baby girl, who is fast approaching her first birthday, is not a food lover.
This is one of the reasons I question her maternity. Kind of, I mean, I *was* there when she was born (*ahem* obviously, my girlie bits remember it well), and I have numerous eye witnesses to the blessed event, but man, this girl is just SO not like me!
Case in point.

I LOVE pizza crusts. She...does not.

I LOVE spagetti sauce. She...does not.

truly.

She's just...weird.

But hey, she can rock this hair do way better than I could ever dream of!

Let's talk about me

2009-03-20T09:13:00.002-04:00

This morning, I ran around my house shrieking in fear, disillusionment and pure, unadulterated self pity.

And it wasn't because the dirty dishes had begun to grow things. Or having a stain on my carpet that freakishly resembles John Lennon.

No. It was because I read this:

"And the color for Spring 2009? May we have the envelope: sexy, feminine magenta is the shade you must have. Doo.Ri, Matthew Williamson and Adam Lippes used magenta freely in their collections. And magenta, bless it, flatters nearly every skin tone."

Why, dear lord WHY?! Did we not do enough hot pink in the 1980's?! Did we not learn our lesson?

And why, i beg you, why do red heads always get the shaft? Nobody, especially myself, want to see my pasty butt and red hair wearing ANY form of magenta. You LIE website, you LIE. Magenta, bless it ugly ass self, does not flatter red heads.

Waiting in anticipation

2009-03-20T08:59:00.002-04:00

mar 14 104-1, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

Little Boy. Plus Train

Enough said

Isn't he cute?!

All tingly

2009-03-20T07:40:00.001-04:00

mar 14 109, originally uploaded by red_canuck.

I adore this picture of my husband.

This picture of my husband makes my insides all tingly and jiggly and liquid warm. And every woman knows that tingly is a good thing.

A new obsession

2009-03-18T23:37:00.002-04:00

I admit it, I am obsessed with another TV show. I never claimed to be anything but a TV junkie - I love me some TV. In my defence, I do seem to fall for the off-thebeaten-path kind of shows, and this is no exception.

Ice Road Truckers

Just look at that title people. Ice Road...truckers what the...? yeah, only in Canada man. And only on the History channel!!
The dudes are hardcore man. -40 degree weather, driving on frozen lakes, and all for the diamonds. I think I'm in love.

Alex is my personal favourite.

You can just see he's half crazy, in a northerner crazy as a fox kinda way. Freaking hilarious.

Watch it. Wednesday nights.

And then check out Heli-loggers, Axmen, Cities of the Underworld, Warriors...oh baby, my butt is tingling just thinking about all the good shows on the history channel!

I'm a nerd, aren't I?

i heart faces week 10!

2009-03-17T23:29:00.002-04:00

Try as I might, I totally could not get an adult picture. For shame. But I did have quite a few kids to choose from, I hate choosing!

If you haven't already checked them out, check em out!

Kids:

Crazy Train

2009-03-17T13:26:00.003-04:00

Mr Man LOVES these balloons!! Loves with a capital L, head over heels, stomach lurching, heart palpitating, toe tingling, finger clenching, love. Who knew that some helium balloons could fulfill his world like none other?

He runs around and around and around dragging these balloons to and fro.

It looks cute.

but.

(there's always a but)

look closer

eeeeeven closer

oh yes they do.
THEY DO.
And as much as he loves them, I LOATHE them. Loathe with a capital L, head over heels, stomach lurching, heart palpitating, toe tingling, finger clenching, loathe.

They met a bit of an untimely end.

They are gone now.

I swear I didn't do it.

I like cake

2009-03-15T00:24:00.002-04:00

Chocolate cake. with chocolate icing.

The Cherry on top of my week from hell.

2009-03-14T21:53:00.002-04:00

Today was suppose to be Mr. Man's big birthday present day, we took him on the train into downtown Toronto, and were then going to have lunch and go to the Hockey Hall of fame. A Newly-Three year old's idea of Heaven. Seriously.

Well...as we get off the train in Toronto and enter Union Station, I notice my left hand. Is empty. Naked. No wedding ring or engagement ring.

Holy Hell I've just lost my most valuable possessions on a random commuter train in the biggest city in Canada. Fuck is an understatement.

We retraced our steps to the platform, train had already left, no rings. We then went to customer service office, and filled a lost and found report, and thankfully because we had sat in the accessible car due to the stroller, we actual knew the carriage number we were in, and they were able to radio the conductor and have them search the train. They took our cell number and told us they'd call if my rings were found.

We decided to continue on to lunch since we were there, the husband's parents had driven downtown to meet us. We went to Shopsy's (for the locals) and had lunch. Seeing as how I'm sick as a dog with a nasty head cold and just getting over the disgusting wrong.in.every.way international stomach bug that has debilitated half of the continent, lunch wasn't as fun as we wanted it to be, but Mr Man seemed to have a blast which is all that matters. He adored being sung to and the candles (again). Kid is obsessed with blowing out candles.

After lunch we head back to Union station, check with customer service and find out they searched the train top to bottom and didn't find my rings (*sob*). We decide to skip the hockey hall of fame and go home, I was exhausted by this point and Husband decides he is coming down with the same above mentioned stomach bug, so we checked the train schedule and got on the next one...

Which happened to be the exact same carriage we took on the way in! Conductor even recognized us. I got to personally search the train, and still came up empty handed. I remembered I had taken a picture with the camera timer of all of us, so I hunt it down and zoom in, to discover that I am ringless in that picture, which was taken before we even left our starting station! The plot thickens.

I am relieved to think my ring isn't somewhere in the gravel at Union Station, but upset thinking someone had picked them up on the train and kept them, or I had lost them in the parking lot packing the kids into the stroller before even getting on the train. Bah.

Searched the station, parking lot and van with no result. Drive home with diminished hope. The last place that was still to be search was thus our house. But how could I have gotten up, gotten ready, out the door, driven an hour to the train station, spent an hour on the train, loaded, unloaded the kids, nurse baby girl 3 times, changed her bum, changed mr man's pants, and everything else, and NOT noticed I wasn't wearing my rings?

Well.

I did. I found my rings under our bed. No clue how they got there. I never take these suckers off. Unless I had become so dehydrated from the flu that they fell off my finger in the middle of the night and rolled (?) under our bed.

Who knows. But they are safely back on my finger and I am so happy.

During all of this, my son had a blast on the train, he kept screaming in joy, telling us how he was having "the best day EVA!" and deciding that Henry was pulling our train, and Sir Topenhat was making the announcements and just oh boy - beside himself. We couldn't have come up with a better way to celebrate the munchkins birthday. I took a gazillion pictures, I will try to get them all uploaded tomorrow, right now I am going to go collapse into bed and try not to blow my nose too hard unless I am sitting on the toilet, if.you.know.what.I.mean.

What
a
day.

I hope to be back to regular posting now, sitting at the computer is much easier when I can be reasonably assured what is, and is not, a true fart.

I'm so sorry I just shared that.

i heart faces week 9!

2009-03-10T09:04:00.001-04:00

Creative Crop baby, creative crop. Considering I take about 25% of my photos blind (aka: point, shoot and pray) I was really looking forward to this week's theme!

Of course, wouldn't you know that I think I may just choose a kids photo I just so happened to take today :/ go figure, of all the thousands of photos! lol. Ah well.

If you haven't already checked them out, check em out!

Kids:

Adult:

And for kicks, here are the originals. What do you think? Good choice to crop or not?

National Hug Day

2009-03-09T23:05:00.003-04:00

That's right, it's National Hug Day.
well, kinda. Just go with me on this one. Reach out and hug someone. That person beside you? Hug 'em. That babe sleeping in bed? Hug 'em. Or...wait till the morning, I don't want to be blamed for awake babies! But tomorrow, hug 'em.

Miss A would like to thank you

la photo

2009-03-09T11:00:00.003-04:00

"la photo", as I plan on digitally signing all of the kidlet photos from now on, is a tongue in cheek name that I came up with. "L" is the first letter of my son's name, and "A" is the first letter of my daughter's name. Combined, they just so happen to make "la", which in french translates to "the".

In my quirky sense of humour "la photo" makes me giggle on so many levels it just felt right. So "la photo" was born.

Just in case you were wondering.
I wouldn't want you to be laying in bed at night, sweating in confusion, unable to figure out WHY, dear god WHY i would do such a thing. What does "la photo" mean? Why would red choose it? Why is the sky blue, grass green and why the hell are Maple Leaf tickets so ridiculously expensive? You know, all those pressing questions that head up good ol' google

The Score

2009-03-09T10:46:00.003-04:00

Entertainment Centre: 1
Miss A: 0

Poor Miss A logged in her first hand to hand combat with our entertainment centre and came out the loser. Girlfriend was not happy, and has the bloody nose and shiner to prove it. You'll be pleased to hear that her tongue came out intact, so all was not lost.

Her brother, on the other hand, seems to have a new found respect for his younger sibling. "Way to take it like a big boy, sis!"

I think I may have gone wrong somewhere in my teachings....

A little change

2009-03-06T09:29:00.006-05:00

A post in one of my favourite blogs got me thinking last night. Betsy posted about how she used an interum trademark on a photo until her new logo was designed. It got me thinking about doing something similar.

Me + thinking? Not a good combination! The smoke set off the fire alarms which was so embarrassing when the firemen showed up. Although...the firemen were super cute. SO cute I might just have to start thinking more often! lol....

But I digress...

Not that my photos are anything at all close to professional, heck, they are just what I call them - mommy dearest pictures. But still, being a mommy means being protective, so there you have it. I'm toying with different watermarks, trying to find something that doesn't take away from the picture, yet isn't easily croppable, so please bear with me while I get myself all organize!
You know, because I don't have anything else to do, what with a pre-op pre-schooler, 2 kids birthday parties to plan in the next month, a house to clean, a house to PACK, diapers, dishes, daydreams...you know, that stuff.

Miss A would like to be the first model of one prototype

Or maybe...

*gasp sputter choke choke *

a whole different name?!

Thoughts? Ideas? New recipes for chocolate cake?

3 years ago

2009-03-05T22:07:00.002-05:00

3 years ago, i looked pretty much like this

oh MAN do I look uncomfortable. tired. worn out. At the end of my rope. And I didn't even have any children!
I could sleep through the night!
Have a shower by myself!
Sit in my pajamas all day! errr...wait, I sat in my pajamas all day today. huh. well then. go figure.

But really...the last 3 years that my son has been in my life have been amazing. To think that 3 years ago I was all cranky and hermit-y and wanting him out all ready thank.you.very.much. As Mr. Man's birthday approaches I'm getting all nostalgic. I was such a baby. Such a newbie noob. And now i'm a seasoned mommy squared. What a great life :D

But i'll pass on being all tired and worn out and cranky again, thanks.

The Boots

2009-03-05T22:04:00.002-05:00

I received a tonne of emails...ok, two...asking about Mr. Man's boots in that previous post. I told him that mommy's "imaginary friends" thought his boots were super cool, and asked him to model them.

He was only too happy to oblige.

Coolest boots eva, eh?

Baby got back!

2009-03-04T22:27:00.003-05:00

I'm tired of magazines
Sayin' flat butts are the thing
So, Mamas! (Yeah!) Mamas! (Yeah!)
Has your baby got the butt? (Hell yeah!)
Tell 'em to shake it! (Shake it!) Shake it! (Shake it!)
Shake that healthy butt!
Baby got back!

Thank you Sit Mix-A-Lot. Who know you were a cloth diaperer at heart? Way to go :D

She's got him wrapped up tight

2009-03-04T22:10:00.003-05:00

Tight around her little tiny baby fingers. Which is only fair since her world revolves around her daddy-waddy-snuckums.

You know, it's a damn good thing I've got the lactating boobs, otherwise she wouldn't lower herself to even give me, her mother, who birthed her 7lbs 15 oz self, AT HOME, with no pain meds, the time of day.

I mean really. She doesn't look at *my* face like this

maybe my boobs though....

I think we can keep her

2009-03-04T21:57:00.002-05:00

For most boys, going 3 days without seeing their little sister would be a very cool treat. A blissful vacation. A heaven sent break from the annoying little squirt who insists on fallowing you around and drooling on all your toys. Err, sorry about the drooling big brother. SO sorry. I'll see you tomorrow ;)

But wait, no, this isn't about me, the poor younger sister, the poor poor ignored youngest child, left to run wild while her older brother gets all.the.attention. No tonly is it not about me, but I also don't have any long lasting issues surrounding being the youngest. Nope, not me.

Now, *my* youngest won't have the same fate. Why? Because not only is she neither ignored or left to run wild, but her older brothe ris quite fond of her.

Quite fond indeed

I think what he missed the most while in the hospital was his sister.

All together now....awe!

If you have a queasy stomach...

2009-03-04T21:48:00.003-05:00

I highly recommend you skip this post.

Seriously, I advise you to not look.

Trust me, if you gross out easily, this is not for you.

Did you hear me? Cause like, i ain't paying to de-puke your computer keyboard. No way no how.

ok, seriously? You think you can handle....the puke? truth? the....Stitches?

Tada!

Mr. Man has his tube out and tomorrow the last of the bandages come off. He is officially in full fledged recovery mode.

And he's using it too, don't you think otherwise. Mr. "I wanna watch my tv shows because you made me go to the hospital" knows how to play his poor dear ol' ma.

(my own attempt at PW's seventies feel. I don't have PS, so it's all old school)

i heart faces week 8!

2009-03-03T20:28:00.004-05:00

I missed last week. I can't really be upset about that, since, well, I was in the hospital with my adorable son, so really. Kinda busy. But I'm baaaack now! From outer space! or the hospital, ya know.

This week....Messy. I have all the traditional first birthday cake smash pictures, eating spaghetti, solids, tuna fish...you name it, it's been on my boy's face. So I tried to find something different. Kinda. SO here's my shot.
The adult one was TOUGH. SO i made do. Not my favourite, but I played around with it to make it...different.

If you haven't already checked them out, check em out!

Messy: kids

Messy: adults

My son, the optimist

2009-03-02T09:52:00.003-05:00

Ever since that one nice day two weeks ago, my little guy has decided that winter is over and it is now spring, thankyouverymuch.

Never mind that it's currently -22 degrees out, with a light layer of snow covering the ground.

Never mind that snow is actually falling from the sky.

Never mind that boogers freeze at this temperature.

It is Spring, don'tcha know. Logan says so. And as such, he refuses to wear a winter jacket, hat, mitts or heaven forbid...winter boots.

Of course none of this has to do with the incredibly cute froggie boots that just happened to be gifted to him two weeks ago. Nope, not connected at all, not one little bit.

Whatcha lookin' at Willis?

2009-02-28T21:11:00.003-05:00

Nothing to see here. keep moving, keep moving. You do not see anything. nothing, nada, rien. Zip zilch zero

Think she can cut a deal with the coppers? Driving while cute? Under the Influence of Adorable-ness?

At least she checks her blind spots

More than I can say for 95% of Toronto drivers :/

No.....

2009-02-28T20:57:00.004-05:00

what the....?
no...
it couldn't be.
It's not.
They wouldn't.
They don't.

yeah. oh hell yeah. It is. It sure it. They sure would. They do too.

This has got to be the funniest DAMN THING I have ever seen in my short eventful life.

You see it? errr, *ahem* them

look closer

They wibbled and they wobbled but they didn't fall down!

Thank you Mr. Pick Up truck, thank you for the great laugh. You ball buster you :D

Home comforts

2009-02-27T23:16:00.002-05:00

My little guy has bounced back from surgery as only a wee child can. If the scars weren't still needing to be bandaged and there wasn't still a tube sticking out of his kidney, you'd never know he was just on the operating table! Oh to be young and resilient. oh to be strong, and flexible and hail and whole. I would have been knocked on my ass for a fortnight after the same surgery.

Mr Man did need a few things to make his stay in the hospital bearable. As bearable as being confined to a hospital bed with both hands bandaged can be for an almost-three year old!

Pink baby, of course. She was essential. She was a life saver. I love pink baby, she's getting a mighty nice christmas present this year, I tell ya!

His superman pillow, both for some familiar smells and we all know how sucky hospital pillows are.

His doggie quilt, which his grandma put together from squares made from each of his close family members. You can just see the red face under the DVD player - my square :D

And of course, the silver box that saved the day, his "DVDV" player.

these 4 things saved my sanity. Or rather what was left of my sanity ;)

Coming soon, to a computer terminal near you...

2009-02-25T22:37:00.002-05:00

more redcanuck. Just not now. or maybe tomorrow. but soon. real soon. I promise. yes, you can trust me. I'm canadian!

We're home, I have my two little munchkins tucked into bed, a glass of very strong alcohol in my hand, some fenugreek warming my belly and a book in my hand trying desperately to erase the last 3 days of hospital living from my poor tired anxious brain. The horror. The raw horror...ugh, i won't go there. Just promise me some thing. don't ever, ever, spend time in the pediatric ward of a pediatric hospital. You won't be the same person coming out as you went in.

Alright, i'm out before this turns into a drunk post where my typing deteriorates even more than normal and I start telling you I love you soooooooo much. or something :)

later homies!

Which of you

2009-02-21T23:11:00.002-05:00

stole my camera and took this picture? Because I didn't. What the heck is it? Huh, my son's orange pants, abandoned as always outside the bathroom. But *why* is there a picture of his pants? I have no idea. I swear I did not take this photo. I have better things to do. Monumental things, earth shatteringly important things. I've got things people. No time for pictures of orange pants.

So why the heck do I have a picture of them?

And dang it, it's in focus?! WHY?!?!

How can I sleep tonight with such a mystery hanging over my head?! HOW i ask you?!

No, i did not!

2009-02-21T23:08:00.004-05:00

I did not give my 10 month old an oatmeal cookie to chew on so that she's lie still and then maybe fall asleep so I could watch CSI: NY while my son slept. I would NOT do that. Never. You cannot prove it.

D'oh!! Who invented cameras anyways?

Maka da baby food

2009-02-21T23:01:00.002-05:00

Not like my daughter actually eats real people food, so lord knows why I keep making baby food, but I do. She won't go to kindergarden on a diet of breastmilk, so she's bond to eat...eventually. An when that time comes, I will be prepared. And what better thing to make into baby food that chicken noodle soup? nothing. Nothing I tell you, nothing. veggies. protein. fiber. yum

Maka da soup. done!

Puree.

That's my magic Bullet. I love it. It's almost my favourite bullet. yeah...

scrap into mini muffin tins.

Splurge and buy the silicon ones, it makes popping out the soup posicles easier. And the size is just right for those mesh feeders. perfect.

Freeze. Done.

see how easy it is?

Soul food!

2009-02-21T22:41:00.002-05:00

With my son's surgery looming before us like bad breath in an elevator, I've been doing everything I can to keep him healthy. And of course, he got sick. the green boogies took up residence yesterday, so now I've doubled my efforts to banish them.
Amongst the various home remedies we have going on in this house, I decided that dinner just had to be Chicken noodle soup. It was a no-brainer.

So since I had to clean my kitchen anyways, I took pictures. I do it all for you guys. My wonderful, adoring, fan...s?

So, grab some veggies. My soup is like everything else I cook, just...stuff. Whatever floats your boat baby.
You gotta have celery, carrots and onion. It's like, my only rule.

I don't have time for much, so I use *cough cough* premade chicken broth. I'm so sorry.
And I used a chicken breast. Don't hate. I know the dark meat and bones is where it's at, but all I had was chicken breast. I made do. I zapped it, and shredded it. easy. I like easy.

Chop. I like to peel my carrots, but not my potatoes. Go figure.

Chop. Use your big knife. Now THAT'S a knife. Use the heel, work the knife baby, work it. feel it. be one with your knife.

I hate peeling potatoes. So I don't. I'm a rebel with a cause baby.

How many times can I say baby, baby?

baby

baby

aaaand I"m done. thanks for letting me get that out of my system.

right, back to the soup.

Cauliflower is good for you 'yo. So why not put it in soup? I dunno, so I did. yum. Mine was a little...past it's prime. But that's ok, just trim off the spots. It's still good.

Throw is allllll in a pot. Cover with chicken broth. stir.

bring to a boil. turn down the heat, and simmer till veggies are tender.

Grab a snack, don't let any of that lushious celery go to waste. Yum

aaaand a drink. it's a saturday, my husband is home, it's five o'clock somewhere, my best friend is at the bank, I'm moving, my baby boy is having surgery on monday, drink.

Boil another pot of water. Just do it.

This is why. Noodles. You do not want to put the noodle sin the soup. they get yucky. and you can't freeze 'em. And we all know you make soup to freeze ;)

Soups done! I decided to throw in some chopped Spinach. The soup needed some colour. And Iron. It was a little anemic.

noodles. bowl. soup. enjoy

In the darkest dark of February...

2009-02-21T00:02:00.002-05:00

When the snow has us buried to our eyeballs, the sun's MIA file is covered in dust, and our last babysitter is a fond faraway memory, being "wife" can be easily forgotten. I'm on-call mom 24/7, with no daycare to fall back on. I'm on-call milk machine 24/7, with nary a bottle to fall back on. I'm the 24/7 cook, maid, chauffeur, doctor, nurse, playmate, story teller, audience, decorator...pretty much everything. Add into this mix the extra demands of dealing with all house buying and moving related faxes, phone calls, emails and decisions, all surgery related faxes, phone calls, emails and decisions, and I am t.i.r.e.d. With a Capital T. What I needed tonight was some inspiration. Some major inspiration. And wouldn't you know it, I found it. Somehow I stumbled across the written copy of my marriage ceremony, filed and forgotten. The part that I really needed to read tonight was our "community giveaway", and went like this:

Community Give Away

To last, a marriage should be a consecration of each person to the other, and to the wider community of which they are a part. Because red and Dude feel a great closeness and respect for all of you here, they chose each of you to witness their vows today. Marriage is an intensely personal act, but, in order for the couple's marriage to gain strength to last throughout the years, their union must be supported by their greater society of family and friends.

I invite you all to share in this moment by expressing your love, hope and joy for this occasion. If you are able, please stand now.

We are all here out of a love for red and dude and a support of this marriage. Please join in an affirmation of your wishes for them by saying "We do" to this question:

Do you promise to support red and dude with your love, uphold them with your wisdom and, through the days and years that lie ahead, sustain them in the vows they make today?

"We do!"

Thank you all. Please take your seats again

Tonight, I needed to be reminded that while I may feel that the responsibility of the world, and my family, rests heavily on my shoulders, there were many people out there who would gladly ease some of my burdens. The simple knowledge that you are loved and supported goes a long way, especially on this dark and snowy February night, as far from my beautiful June wedding as I could imagine.

Here's to hoping that on this dark and snowy february night, you have the same sense of community and support that I was able to rediscover.

yeah, we were babies.

It's obvious.

2009-02-19T23:42:00.004-05:00

As an almost-thirty year old woman, I just cannot comprehend the inner workings of a almost-three year old boy's brain.

This, this is my son. You already know him. But did you also know that he has a band-aid fetish? And that this doozy has been attached to his noggin for almost TWO whole weeks now?

I don't know what I am more confused about. A cheapie bandaid lasting 2 weeks, or *wanting* a bandaid attached for two weeks.

It's just so wrong. It's all kinds of wrong.

Like I said, It's obvious, I just cannot comprehend the inner workings of an almost-three year old boy's brain.

But really, ew? EW? EWWWWWWWWW!

thank god he's cute. I can only imagine all the gross stuff I have to look forward to in the coming years.

Boy cooties

2009-02-19T23:27:00.002-05:00

"Mommy, he's touching me. HE'S TOUCHING ME, AND HE'S A BOY. A boy. Boys have cooties. make.him.go.away. MAKE him stop touching me"

Is it wrong that I am secretly gleeful that my little girl wants nothing to do with boys? Cause I am. yup, I am.

Duelling Blog post titles

2009-02-18T18:09:00.000-05:00

"Mommy forgot to do laundry"

or

"When almost-three-years dress themselves"

Thinking of something else...

2009-02-17T22:22:00.002-05:00

anything else. Anything at all but the fact that my little munchkin Mr. Man goes in for his pre-op appointment tomorrow, which means that Monday's surgery is right around the corner

He'll come through with flying colours, and will be having the nurses and doctors in stitches themselves hours after surgery, I have no doubt. He'll be swinging from the light fixtures by day's end, IV's be damned.

Yet, as his mommy, i'm till worried sick. When I first signed up to be a mommy (or peed on a stick, semantics and all) I had no inkling how my child would be the owner of my heart. I don't live for him - I live because of him.

Cheeky little bugger

We have a new rule in this house...

2009-02-17T18:08:00.001-05:00

No naked butts on tables.

I mean, really?

Being the youngest can suck.

2009-02-17T17:47:00.003-05:00

I should know, i was the youngest. This could very well have been today, or 28 years ago.

It starts good. "look ma, I got a ball!"

big brother notices that little sister has something cool

And swoops in for the steal

Yoink!

Wait, what? Miss A is left with, "What just happened here?"

poor little sister

i heart faces week 6!

2009-02-17T17:07:00.005-05:00

"Wonder"

well folks, it's that time of week again. Wonder what I'm going to come up with. Get it, get it? wonder? har har. hee hee. Ha ha. I so funny.

Laugh, damn you, laugh.

Thank you. See, wasn't too hard, eh? Right.

If you haven't already checked them out, check em out!

Kids

Adult

Wonder

2009-02-17T16:59:00.002-05:00

The theme for this week's contest over on I *heart* faces is "Wonder". I've been searching through my archives thinking about what pictures fit, when I ran across this one. And while I can't submit it because, really, technically I didn't take it, it fits rather nicely, eh?

This, my dear friends is me mere seconds, moments, nanseconds after giving birth to my daughter. And yelling out "IT'S A BABY!"

Why yes, I am always that eloquent. You try pushing out an 8 lb watermelon without pain meds and see what shakespearean sonnet escapes your lips, hmmm?

Why people with cameras are not invited to many parties

2009-02-17T14:04:00.002-05:00

Because we take pictures like this

of our loved ones that they do not ever want to see the light of day.

Wait, maybe it's this one...

yup, that's the one.

When people with cameras are invited to parties, the smart people sit out of range from the lens.
Like Nat. She's a smart one.

She knows I am too lazy to go get the ~~big penis~~ zoom lens, yet I hate clutter, so just avoid pictures like these. Dammit, since when are blonds smart! (I kid, I kid. Honest. haha)

Of course, if you sit *too* close, if means I get random pictures like this:
"This is my eye"

And of course, when you sit right in the sweet spot, I tend to get plenty o' pictures of open mouths. like

this.

or this

and this.

I"m so sorry txt. I call her txt since her thumbs are perma attached to her phone. Love you txt :D

At the end of the night, filled with gossip, husband rants, and sex (or lack thereof) talk, I am thankful for all my friends that keep me sane.

I am also thankful I am not pregnant anymore.

I love you guys!