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!

cans for comments

Celebrating the season of giving!

From December 1-10 we are doing cans for comments! Make a comment on any of my posts between Dec 1 and 10 and I will donate a non perishable food item to the Shepherds of Good Hope in Ottawa. 10 comments=10 cans! It's that simple :)

Share the love! Check out these other participants:
Carol-Ann Photography
Fulton Photography
Worth a tri
101 things in 1001 days
Luv Monkee
Ruby Pickles
Tutu FabooJenn M
My Little Big Life
Kenzie Prudhomme Photography
Mon Petit Amour
Ryan & Michelle
The Life of a Modern Housewife
Rambling Renovators
Cans for Comments

intervention needed!

Please help! The sprout is addicted to Sophie the Giraffe baby crack.

It all starts when I hold Sophie in front of him. Those deep penetrating black eyes unwaveringly staring back at him as if to say, "C'mon, boy! Just take one little nibble! My ears are very tasty! You'll regret it if you don't." How can he resist? He's only a baby. He hasn't developed willpower yet. And his chubby fingers reach out to grab the smooth rubber. He throttles gently caresses her neck before shoving an ear into his mouth. For a moment there is a satisfying gnawing sound almost like the volume has been turned down on someone scratching his nails on a chalk board. Then he whips Sophie out of his mouth and holds her up, giggling as if to say, "Oh yeah! That's the stuff!" And then right back into his mouth she goes, only this time he chooses to nibble on her nose. Meanwhile his legs are going a mile a minute, the excitement so blatantly evident, infecting every inch of his little body.

I can't help but smile. The euphoria that such a simple toy brings to the sprout is so infectious.

But then it all starts to go downhill. No longer satisfied with her facial features the sprout decides to nibble Sophie's rump. Only his chubby 5 month old hands don't have the dexterity to to maneuver her. Down down down she falls, all 3 and a half inches to the floor. There she lies, motionless, nose to the floor. Forlorn, almost forgotten, except for the big huge pout that has arisen on the sprout's face. "SOPHIE!" He whimpers. "I need my Sophie!" The excitement is gone. The twenty dollar cheap thrill over. His legs heavy, he rests them on the floor, floor supporting his weight. For those few moments before out of sight out of mind kicks in he is so sad, so lonely. It's pathetic, but my heart aches for him.

So I pick Sophie up and hold her out for the sprout to take again. As she squeak squeaks a smile slowly spreads back on to the sprout's face. His eyes light up and he squeals. Sophie, stoic, ever spotted stares back. The black abyss of her eyes taunting him, teasing him, patiently waiting for her next foray into the sprout's mouth.

sitting pretty

It's a big day for a little man! The sprout got a new highchair today. A fancy Handysitt highchair. Not that he's actually eating real food yet. That would mean I'd have to share the feeding duties. And I don't wanna. At least not yet. However, we thought we'd try it out.

I'll take one boob, straight up please!

I Parent By Nature

When I signed up for this parenting ‘thing’ I’m not sure I really knew what I was getting into. Sure, I knew there would be crying and diaper changes. I looked forward to the smiles, the giggles, the cuddles and the cute little feet, but I’m not sure back then what I really thought parenting would be like.

I certainly don’t remember anyone telling me I’d be this tired. Still, when I picked the Sprout up this morning he gave me a big gummy smile and my heart melted. The bad, sleepless night forgotten, I kissed his sweet smelling chubby cheeks and tears of happiness started to well up in my eyes. Seriously, I’m like a drippy tap these days.

And then…

He let out an unholy noise. Before he even finished filling his diaper I groaned inwardly. Okay, maybe a little outwardly too, because, really, who enjoys changing poopy diapers? At least I knew, taking off his PJ’s, that I wasn’t going to find any surprises waiting for me. We’ve never had a blow out with cloth diapers.

I remember people telling me we were nuts to cloth diaper. However, we always knew we were going to use cloth. It was actually my husband that said it first. For us it was an environmental choice, a cost effective choice, and one that we knew would limit the Sprout’s exposure to chemicals and dyes. Something we were concerned about since my husband and I both have problems with skin allergies and eczema.

However, cloth diapering didn’t start out so smoothly. When the Sprout was days old I found myself standing in the diaper aisle at the local store staring at the wall of plastic wrapped disposable diapers. I was feeling incredibly lost. We hadn’t expected to have a miniature 5lb baby that didn’t fit into any of the cloth diapers we owned. But what brought me to this place? I had never stood in the diaper aisle before because I never intended to use the products here. I had no idea what to look for in a disposable diaper. What was the difference between the yellow and the blue packaging? I remember thinking to myself, what am I doing here? It was a moment of panic (I needed to find something to put on his bum!) that led me there, and five bewildered minutes before I realized I didn’t belong. The next day we went to a cloth diaper store to buy a dozen prefolds and we have never looked back.

I now have fun telling people we cloth diaper. It’s worth it just to see their reactions. We intimidate a lot of people until they see me change the Sprout’s bum. “That’s it?” I guess they are expecting to see me perform advanced origami and have diaper changes take 10 minutes. When we tell them how much we’ve spent, total, on cloth diapers their eyes tend to bug out. “That’s it?” Yep, that’s it. The thing is, we could have spent about half of what we spent and still outfit our baby in cloth.

So, do I think we’re nuts to cloth diaper? Nope! All it took was a bit of confidence in what we wanted to do to make it work – and a desire to prove the sceptics wrong. I certainly wouldn’t change anything. I love his great big bubble butt.

Click here to find out about the Parenting By Nature Blog to Inspire Contest!

Etsy envy

If I had all the time in the world I would make the sprout a whole set of felt play food from umecrafts on Etsy. Can you say way cool? That artichoke makes me want to go out and buy a real one just so I can find something to make with it so that when the sprout is old enough he'll copy me making the artichoke recipe! And the fruit sections? What a great way to safely teach the sprout to use a knife so he'll be able to make me supper in, errr... a few years :D

I adore the variety of the felt food patterns this seller has to offer and the fact that they look so realistic. le sigh. I am off to get poor on Etsy!

granola

I have come to the realization that we are rather granola. We cloth diaper... not just at home but on the plane, on our vacation. And because I don't like to change poopy diapers, I have been potty training my 4 month old. Yup, he poops in the toilet. I always thought that the change stations in the wheelchair washroom stall were silly, but now they are just so handy. They must make those just for me :) We eat lentils. We shop at the farmers market. The sprout plays with wooden toys. We don't own an exersaucer or a TV. Yup, rather granola.

The thing is, I like being granola.

Now I have to go and save the sprout from his wooden playgym. He's taken hold of one of the wooden rings and can't figure out how to let go. Silly boy.

super

Awesome!

psst!

The sprout does this really cute thing sometimes when he's eating. He'll hold his little hand up to his face as if he is trying to whisper to the booby. And I'll ask him, "What secrets are you telling the booby?" He'll look up at me like it's none of my business. Whatever it is is strictly between him and the boob. Personally, tho, I think he's saying, "Psst... Psst... You know you'd taste better with bacon?" :)

food tastes better when it looks good, right?

I like watching those cooking shows or going to fancy restaurants and seeing how they arrange the food on the plate to make it look pretty. I am sure that it tastes better this way. I mean, it must, right? Or why would they do it. I was just thinking that since I am food, that I must taste better too, if I look good. And what better way to look good than the new fall line at Milkface (god I love that store). I am currently drooling over this pretty little number.

Oh, what a pretty dress you are. How I want to wear thee in all your polka dotted splendor. I am sure that my milk would be infinitely better while I wear you. Le sigh. I love Boob nursing wear. It’s comfy and stylish and so practical for right now. But why does it have to be sooooo expensive?

the fog

I sometimes feel like I'm standing in the middle of a fog. I am turning on the spot but I can't quite make the way out. And I am tired. I am just so tired. I want to lay down but I can't. My brain is whirling away, like a children's top, but it's spinning out of control. And then he's crying again and all I want to do is soothe him. Comfort him. But I can barely hold him. My arms want to give out under the weight. I'm hushing him. I do it subconsciously now. I do it more for me than him. I need the reminder. I need the calm feeling of a hand on my back, the sound of a heart beating, the warmth of a body next to mine. And so does he. We are both so tired. Our distraught energies feeding off each other. Deep breaths. Calming breaths. The waves of sleep start to crash down around us. I feel us drifting off. But for how long? And my eyes spring open. I look down at my sleeping baby. So peaceful now. Dreaming of cuddles and boobies and dangling toys. And I wonder when it will be my turn. I hate insomnia.

2 months

My little boy is 2 months old. What happened to the time? But at the same time it's like there wasn't life before the sprout. He's come so far in such a short period of time. To look at him now you'd never guess he was a preemie. He's already doubled his birth weight. He's growing so fast and changing so quickly. I don't want to forget the little things, and I am so afraid that I am going to, so I thought I'd start a list of the things I want to remember :)

1 month

2 months

(1) The sprout will sometimes be sitting in his vibratey chair, all calm, and he'll open his mouth up wide and look around, as if to say, "Okay, I'm ready. Put the food in here!"

(2) His maniac laugh/cry when he's hungry.

(3) Finding his fist when he's doing his hungry laugh/cry and going, "Hey! What's this?" Pausing, gnawing on his hand for a moment, realizing there's no food coming out of it, and then resuming crying.

(4) Trying to figure out how to make his fist hit the toys on his wooden play gym even tho he can only just reach the toys with his hand open. He gets all frustrated and his other hand ends up hitting the toys. He turns his head, all surprised and resumes trying to hit the toys with the other fist!

(5) The way he smiles at my boobs when he's about to get fed like they are the most fantastic things ever. And in his world, I guess they are. They give him food.

(6) Chatting and snuggling with the boobs :) mmm... boobies...

okay, one more...

(7) Him raising his arm above his head to stretch and then letting out a great big fart!

Looking forward to seeing him grow even more!

eliminating spit up

Okay, to say that the sprout is a spitter is a bit of an understatement. He's a greedy little gus and nursing is his favorite activity. So, I am getting a little tired of the spit up. I go through at least a dozen receiving blankets a day. I have started to alter my diet (no dairy) and how I nurse him to try to minimize the spit up but I think I am going about this all wrong. Then I found this: Why should I try to get rid of something when I can just cover it up? This is way easier! Fabric that hides spit up stains? I am totally in! Check out Pukies for their whole line of stain friendly fabric products!

an alternative

If I couldn't have mummy's milk I'd have... BEER!

Free stuff!

Who doesn't like to win free stuff?

I was recently perusing the life of a modern house wife blog and am in love with the giveaway this week! Zutano Itzy-Bitzy has such cute clothes! The sprout would look fantastic in the blue dino onesie. I love wrap onesies since the sprout doesn't like having me yank things over his head, or he spits up on things as I am pulling them over his head.

going back to work

I love my job. So I always knew that I would go back to work very soon after the sprout’s arrival. Now, before you get too shocked, I do not have a 9-5 job. I teach one-hour yoga classes. Going back to work means 1.5 hours away from home at a time. He should be fine and dad can always give him formula if he gets hungry…

I don’t want my son to have formula. I don’t want to share :( I never anticipated how attached I would feel to the sprout after he was on the outside. Feeding is our time together. It just wouldn’t be the same if I was plugging a bottle into his mouth.

So today was my first trial run back at work. I subbed a class for my boss. And it went okay. I managed to get through the hour with my sanity intact! The sprout survived too – no bottle, no formula, and only a small amount of hungry crying. The sprout even came to pick me up at work so he didn’t even have to wait until I got home for his first lunch.

Still, at 7 weeks, it was hard. I am in no way upset that he was a month early. It means I have an extra month with him before I am back on the schedule. I love my little boy and feel oddly fully satisfied being a mother. This is a good job :) Now how do I get paid in cash for it?

Beets me!

We are still fairly new to this breastfeeding thing and it still surprises me how what I eat can affect what he poops.

For instance: beets.

It’s summer here and that means that we can get fresh local beets. It no longer surprises me when I shit red poo after eating them, but when I saw that come out of the sprout? Yeah, I was shocked. Oh my god, I thought. What is wrong with my new baby? And then I slowly started to process that I had had beets at supper. Tasty things, done up in foil on the bbq with olive oil, balsamic and fresh thyme. Maybe… maybe, just maybe they affect him the same way they affect me. I wish there had been a warning, like red milk! Then maybe I wouldn’t have been as surprised.

I am still waiting for him to start pooping rainbows, but I guess red poo is a good start.

he's a boob man

The sprout is 6 weeks old. We’ve been breastfeeding for 6 weeks. And I think we are finally starting to get the hang of this!

I never wanted to breastfeed. I always saw it as being physically attached to my baby. I didn’t want to have that sort of attachment. I wanted to be able to get out without him. I wanted to keep my independence. Then I got pregnant and something switched. Of course I was going to breastfeed! That’s what you do.

So a few days ago when I was feeding the sprout I looked down at him with my big baby blues looking up at me with his big baby blues and I thought, “I am really enjoying this.” It surprised me. But I love sitting there with my little boy in my arms, his warm body squished up next to me, listening to him gulp gulp gulp. It just seems so special. It just seems so good. It just feels so right.