happy new year!

It is the eve of a new year.
A year that I hope will bring much laughter…
Tears of joy…
And many many hours of playtime…

On the eve of this new year it is customary to list our resolutions.
But I never make any.
It is too easy to break them.Instead I try to remind myself of the type of person I want to be.
One that cares for others and the world around her.
One that laughs and cries and sings (when no one is listening).
One that is considerate, polite and kind.
One that smiles…And so on this eve I am reminded of that person.
I am reminded of her and of him – my son
Because those are all the things I want for him too.
I want him to be happy.

And although we will likely be fast asleep well before this eve has ended and the next day begun, I am reminded. So I will go and kiss my sleeping baby and think of all the wondrous things he has yet to discover.Because I know that will make me smile.

food

The sprout is still not showing a lot of interest in food. But give him a spoon and it's the best thing ever! It's too bad that whenever we put food on the spoon the sprout wipes it off before putting the spoon in his mouth. Well, wipe/fling food across the table. Same thing really.

fighting christmas

This year I have been really struggling with Christmas.

Somewhere, along the way, the meaning of Christmas, or at least what I thought Christmas was, got lost.

When I was about 8, I remember Christmas lost its sparkle, its magic, its je-ne-sais-quoi that makes you unable to sleep from being too giddy. I remember going to bed after opening all my presents and satiating myself with turkey and pie thinking, I just got a bunch of stuff... Why?

Since then my love of christmas has come and gone, but this year it's totally left me. And with my new baby, I thought maybe I would be able to find something that would make the crowds with the pushy, impatient people not seem so rude or the endless buy Buy BUY mantra just background noise. But I haven't.

I want to teach the sprout that Christmas isn't about the stuff. But I have to fight every. single. relative. The sprout doesn't need an entire toy store or a clothing store. I keep trying to reiterate that what he needs right now, more than anything else, is to spend time with people. He won't learn from a toy that plays for him, but he will learn from interacting with real people.

I don't want my son to be a consumer. I want him to be a carefree, happy, engaging little boy who loves to spend time with his family.

But on the biggest consumerist holiday of them all, how do you tell the kind, generous grandparents, "No, really. DON'T buy him anything. Really."

Etsy envy

This week I am coveting the gorgeous sewing from SewnNatural. It is a mother-daughter team that have created a beautiful, simple collection with a touch of whimsy. I remember my own mother teaching me how to sew, so I feel a bit of nostalgia remembering all the times my mum and I worked on projects together. With keen attention to small details (look at the elephant on that baby blanket! He's sooooo cute!) and the use of natural, organic and repurposed vintage fabrics, I could buy one of everything for the sprout. Sadly, my credit card begs to differ. Still, a girl can dream...

I think the sprout would look great carrying around the child-sized lion messenger bag. Six months isn't too young to start pulling your own weight, is it? Well, maybe I'll wait till he's bigger than the bag. And the nap mats! Now that is a brilliant idea. This one with the owls really appeals to me. Owls are nocturnal and only come out when all good boys should be asleep :)

Although I can't buy everything, I think the sprout will also adore his new elephant blanket. The vintage blue stripes and super soft organic flannel are sure to win over my little boy who loves all things soft and warm.

And, an even bigger plus, SewnNatural is local! A homemade business based in Ottawa. It's just one more thing to love. And if that wasn't enough, you can enjoy 10% off your next purchase when you enter wordofmom10 at checkout! I am off to get poor on Etsy!

peekaboo!

The sprout loves this. I mean, giddy, body trembling excitement when we play. And, finally, Cracked.com has explained why:

We're calling it Peekaboo Ending because it relies on the same ass-backwards logic that makes infants squeal with delight when someone hides and unhides their face. When we're born, we believe that things stop existing if we can't see them. To an infant's mushy, half formed brain, peekaboo looks like their mom is blinking in and out of existence with a stupid look on her face. Roughly translated, those squeals mean, "Holy shit, moms a wizard."

Yup, enough said.














Squeal!

happy half birthday!

Dear little sprout,

Happy half birthday! It's been 6 months, but it feels like only yesterday...


I remember when I first laid eyes on you. You were so small. So teeny. Looking up at me with big blue eyes. Taking it all in. This new place. This new person. "So... you must be my mummy?" You must have thought. And you must be my baby.

I didn't take a single picture of you in NICU, in your isolette. You were so small, hooked up to monitors and it made me too sad to think about remembering that time. But now I wish I had. I wish I had just one picture of your isolette. So that I could remember not how hard it was seeing you in there, but how far you've come since.

A little blob was all you were. A tiny little baby. But now you've tripled in size. You've grown and you've learned so much. You squeal when you're excited. And your legs start kicking, your whole body trembling. You pout right before you cry. The bottom lip slips out and the tears start to form in your eyes and I can't help but laugh. It's too cute. You talk. We have entire conversations and I haven't understood a word you've said, but it's okay, because it was so much fun.

You wear your heart on your sleeve, mr sprout, and I am so tuned in to your emotions. Our hearts are intertwined. And I feel pain when you're hurting, elation when you're happy and I cry tears when you're sad. I am so proud to be your mummy. I am so lucky. I love you. xo

~mummy

and the grand total is...

32!

Thank you to everyone who posted comments while we participated in Cans for Comments 2009. It has been a huge success and I know the Shepherds of Good Hope will appreciate the food. It's been a lot of fun receiving comments so I hope everyone continues throughout the rest of the year. I feel loved :P

cans for comments - progress report

We are up to 28 cans! That's 28 tasty goodies for the good people over at the Shepherds of Good Hope. Now, what do you think? Shouldn't it be more? When I wake up Friday morning, I am going to be counting my comments. That's only 2 more days to comment for a needy cause!

So, today, I want to hear about what you are giving for Christmas. We all know we'll get some pressies in the end, but what are you giving?

I'll start :) We've bought an automblox, a Sophie and a Wooden rattle for Toy Mountain this year. Oddly, I haven't bought anything for people we know. I think I might do some baking! Mmm... gingerbread!

P.S. Now get commenting!

feeling sad

There's a downside to breastfeeding. I’ve got one word for you: attachment. Not the sprout’s attachment to me, more my attachment to him. It certainly wasn’t anything anyone told me about. The longest I have been away from the sprout since he was born is about 3 hours. And I was in tears by the time I got home. Trust me, it wasn’t from engorgement either. I just need to be close to him. Yet at the same time there is something missing in that closeness. I’m sad.

There, I’ve said it. That one little word that has been haunting me a lot lately, making me feel like a shit mother. I love my son. I love that he has thrived on being 100% exclusively breastfed. I grew him. I nourished him and satiated him and he is the little boy he is because I had a huge hand (errr… breast) in it. And I wouldn’t change that. I wouldn’t go back to the beginning and buy a pump or introduce bottles. I am firm in my choice. It is what has worked best for all of us.

But when you have a baby who won’t take a bottle and wants nothing to do with a soother it’s wearying. Only mum will do. I see friends whose babies happily take a bottle and they get to go to the movies, or get their hair done or go out and get to just be... instead of mom for a few hours. I haven’t cut my hair in two years. And I know I could say to the dude that I want to go to the salon, and here is the time I am going and would you watch the boy. I could do that. But then I’d have to leave my sweet little boy.
So I don’t make the appointment because then I would have committed to it. Instead I spend the time with the sprout. Watching him play, basking in his smiles, changing him when he’s wet, feeding him when he’s hungry and rocking him to sleep when he’s tired. And I am thankful every day that I have a job that allows me to be at home with my son, to experience this stage in his little life, to see him grow and learn and just figure out the world. But then the feelings of sadness start to creep in and I try to push them away. I’m fine. I am a mother. I have the most gorgeous boy in the world. There is no reason for me to feel this way.


Yet I do. Trapped in the circle of needing to spend time away from my son but unwilling to leave him.

I Parent By Nature - Finalists announced!

Well, I didn't win. But that's okay because the finalists chosen were all amazing! I did manage to make a shortlist of favorite entries (cloth can be easy and fun) and that made my day! Not to mention, I received a pretty awesome shout out today for the thank you I sent back :) Here's a snippet of my thanks:

I have been reminded of how much the power of words can shape my son. And I want him to grow up knowing that he is loved and supported. I want him to feel inspired by what he reads, what he sees and what he hears.

If you haven't already checked out the blog to inspire contest hosted by Parenting by Nature, I encourage you to take a look at the finalists and cast your vote!

P.S. Comment for cans!

it was bound to happen

We've been trying to do a bit of EC. So we have a potty bucket for the sprout. It's just easier to toilet him wherever we are changing him. Which today, happened to be on my bed. Diaper off, holding him over the bucket, he peed. Yah!!! We sing our little song and do our little dance. Well, okay, there is no dance. But we do sing the song. Yes we are sad. (And NO I will not repeat the song.) I put him down so that I can get a wipe and move the bowl just out of arms reach because I wouldn't want him to knock it over...

And with a move demonstrating much more agility than a 5 month old should have, he made David Beckham proud (or any Brazilian professional soccer player, really). The sprout rolled over, kicked the bottom of the bucket -- like one of those sideways, airborne sort of World Cup caliber kicks -- sent the bucket spinning backwards off the bed, pee flying everywhere, and the bowl landed right-side-up on the floor. Umm... GOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLL!!!!!! Because, really, what can you say to a 5 month old half naked baby lying there looking incredibly smug? Who, by the way, managed not to get a drop of pee on himself!

There's baby pee on my pillow. I predict more diaper changes are going to be occurring in the bathroom.

P.S. Comment for cans!