tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88314752800190257982024-02-19T13:10:56.239-04:00The Bird's NestUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-55103536174391191202022-07-26T09:19:00.003-03:002022-07-26T09:19:40.810-03:00Tuesday Tango'Tango' because, ten years ago when I was blogging more regularly, theme days of the week were all the rage. Thankful Thursday, Manic Monday, etc. 'Tango' because I'm dancing through my random thoughts and updates on this post.<div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiirrnMkOwe_4dH-wH6Ivu_x_W2karl7zNmiXOZMvsobo-3kBkGTRvqg5TOZw01AvuNNUDr_cjwV7k5EFj09dLTyaaoJ_uh642p9XaWYB91u1FNs7GuuEqMalws9Pz3yiphR1tiFBjcB56U1OtSgGUZ--XlpRyFt_dEr_1Ryo9B9Ot2NeQV56O0pxGMnw/s4032/PXL_20220724_004930793.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiirrnMkOwe_4dH-wH6Ivu_x_W2karl7zNmiXOZMvsobo-3kBkGTRvqg5TOZw01AvuNNUDr_cjwV7k5EFj09dLTyaaoJ_uh642p9XaWYB91u1FNs7GuuEqMalws9Pz3yiphR1tiFBjcB56U1OtSgGUZ--XlpRyFt_dEr_1Ryo9B9Ot2NeQV56O0pxGMnw/s320/PXL_20220724_004930793.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The smoke stacks at dusk</td></tr></tbody></table><br />This weekend was a very low key and random smattering of stuff. We had a heat wave locally, so it was very hot and heavy outside. The kids attended a birthday party at the bowling alley, and I went to the nearby thrift store to seek some of my wishlist items. The internet fitting hack of using your neck circumference to see if the waist of pants/shorts will fit actually seems to work! I also scored a nice black bathing suit top to go with my red high-waisted bottoms. <div><br /></div><div>Saturday night, we tried to attend fireworks put on by a local festival, but the winds were too strong. We only found out after keeping the kids up very, very late, going to a viewing location on the harbour bridge, and waiting for an extra twenty minutes because the organizers didn't communicate very well what was going on. There was a bit of disappointment but mostly everyone was tired and just wanted to go home to bed, so no tears or attitude. Both kids seemed to enjoy looking at the city lights from the bridge. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sunday was absolutely a swimming-at-the-lake day. My goal for the summer has been to go swimming as much as humanly possible with the kids. Once we got home, K built a hanging storage rack for our totes - this will hold most of our camping goods since we had no storage space for much of this stuff. He's very proud of it and calls it his holder holder. </div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw1EMCsmn3SqKpEsbZItIn9uvyenZZxwfEh4brUy6OJ9vsrLSQc_k1NqN3NCcnGUBmaNzRQMtwZrLislyY8wne4tiTs5Pwkheg6mWrRhTSG2-7exA6T89GSbEw-p3jlh8ma49h471t__qmayCfd4QUl1ReupoJ3hUyhbt0orlv8nyUVYwkV41_W9D9jQ/s1080/FB_IMG_1658750376360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="525" data-original-width="1080" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw1EMCsmn3SqKpEsbZItIn9uvyenZZxwfEh4brUy6OJ9vsrLSQc_k1NqN3NCcnGUBmaNzRQMtwZrLislyY8wne4tiTs5Pwkheg6mWrRhTSG2-7exA6T89GSbEw-p3jlh8ma49h471t__qmayCfd4QUl1ReupoJ3hUyhbt0orlv8nyUVYwkV41_W9D9jQ/s320/FB_IMG_1658750376360.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The new holder-holder</td></tr></tbody></table><br /> My parents-in-law, who provide child care on my work days, were originally planning a little overnight trip with the grandkids for Monday overnight into Tuesday, but the weather forecast kyboshed that plan. Instead, they kept our kids overnight. It's always nice to not have to get the two small humans ready for such an early work day departure for childcare once in a while. Unfortunately, a close family member has a brand new case of Covid, so K and I used our night to do a supply run (it's a fair distance). </div><div><br /></div><div>While "down home," K asks about the small sandy beach we were combing: "This sand must be imported, right? Trucked in a long time ago?" Dear reader, I couldn't resist ribbing him since we were located in a place called Sandy Cove which, not coincidentally, got its name from being a cove full of sand. He seemed genuinely surprised sand could naturally occur at this part of the sea coast.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's now Tuesday and my plans for the rest of the week include buying running shoes (lol but how am I going to do that if I need to take a disinterested ten year old and a six year old who LOVES to shop a little too much?), meal planning and prepping for our camping trip next week, and lying low. <br /><br />Drop me a comment to say hi if you made it through all that.<br /><div><div><br /><div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-91260299325062892532022-07-19T13:24:00.002-03:002022-07-19T13:24:55.477-03:00Happy Campers<p> Our family was never really into camping - closest we came was, before we had children, a booking for Fundy National Park in New Brunswick that we cancelled due to poor forecast. I always maintained that we didn't have the space for all the gear in our home with limited storage space. </p><p>But after the umpteenth summer of trying to find a reasonable accommodation for a week of cottage living that wasn't going to bankrupt us, I began to daydream of having a little camper to call our own. Sleeping on air mattresses on the ground isn't my jam, but neither is the expense of a larger trailer and something with which to tow one. I dreamed of a tent trailer much the same way that my parents dreamed of a tent trailer when I was little. </p><p>I let my interest grow, mentioning it only in passing last fall to my husband who looked shocked but didn't shoot me down.</p><p>Then, in March, I approached K more seriously about getting a camper instead of renting increasingly-pricey cottages each summer. We decided we'd casually look for an older pop-up camper until the right one came along.</p><p>In April, the right one came along via Facebook Marketplace. It's old - old as me at thirty-six. But it still works, is easy to set up and tear down, and has introduced our family to camping. I put a lot of work and money into maintenance and gear acquisition this spring, sourcing what I could from thrift stores (pots/pans), family members with duplicates, and buying new when it was necessary. We've done two weekend trips so far, with a week-long trip coming up in early August. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUy8T_HFMu_O3okIX_vXvhf1gHgIQnTl7PCXSrYyF4-p_p7titApnitPhvwy4gBy7DKwHc7vuCHu5gOlHh-2JGp_T1r3d38lsJTJvpHLIh9_So1rZtOdmogEGxNaiGIVTd--p3cy3qhsA1cCe-gMArjULDxomlumeN8w1TiE9GqCRh8xbpIG62S_-JJw/s4032/PXL_20220514_180216677.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUy8T_HFMu_O3okIX_vXvhf1gHgIQnTl7PCXSrYyF4-p_p7titApnitPhvwy4gBy7DKwHc7vuCHu5gOlHh-2JGp_T1r3d38lsJTJvpHLIh9_So1rZtOdmogEGxNaiGIVTd--p3cy3qhsA1cCe-gMArjULDxomlumeN8w1TiE9GqCRh8xbpIG62S_-JJw/s320/PXL_20220514_180216677.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1986 Jayco pop-up camper, remodelled by previous owner</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Camping is certainly a lot of work, but now we've got a fair amount of kit stored in the camper itself and that means we only need to think about clothing and food each trip. In spite of all the preparation and then all the clean-up afterward, I have found each trip restorative. Spending all day outdoors, the kids running off with campground friends, swimming when we can, not worrying about bedtimes because we'd rather the kids sit by the campfire and toast marshmallows with us - it's absolutely more than I could have hoped for. At the end of each night both kids just pass out and sleep so soundly. Do the adults sleep well? Certainly not the first night of each trip. But that's okay, we've survived.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6gtVXO5NW1NaqDvn4PtzWr73I2QTgv3gpwvs3yJdWqvbMezv6kOCuiXlwVoG7gnV0bbLZ_Le0RLQrAlnA-H2MjRVVqBjlb6trIiXx8ak9DQ-wZ6W7gp592Nvtd2hRd4vD1e9GCttn49iii8KzLyRI6jPK7xlzXhBWIZrC08yT_NvCRPG0gvDrC14XQ/s4032/PXL_20220624_202417048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6gtVXO5NW1NaqDvn4PtzWr73I2QTgv3gpwvs3yJdWqvbMezv6kOCuiXlwVoG7gnV0bbLZ_Le0RLQrAlnA-H2MjRVVqBjlb6trIiXx8ak9DQ-wZ6W7gp592Nvtd2hRd4vD1e9GCttn49iii8KzLyRI6jPK7xlzXhBWIZrC08yT_NvCRPG0gvDrC14XQ/s320/PXL_20220624_202417048.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our set-up as of the June 23rd camping trip</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Maybe in a future post I'll detail more of the work I've put into our camping set-up, but for now I was just so excited to put it all into words. </p><p><b>Do you like camping? Are you a tenter or a trailer kind of camper?</b></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-82197390917674822432022-07-19T12:59:00.003-03:002022-07-19T12:59:50.096-03:00Blogging With Abandon<p style="text-align: left;">Blogging just isn't something people <i>do</i> anymore, is it? The 'gram reins supreme
these days, and the young people are all about tiktok. I never feel eloquent
enough to manage regular tiktoks. Influencer culture seems to have started with
blogging and travelled into social media where it found its truest home, and
personal blogs have mostly disappeared. Some of the blogs I formerly enjoyed are
now lifestyle sites that I lost interest in as someone with limited income and
time. </p><p style="text-align: left;">The thing is, I really <i>liked</i> personal blogs. I liked reading about the
real, imperfect lives of regular people. Little by little, all my favourites
stopped updating. I get it - why put in the effort if your readership has
migrated away from reading? But there are those of us who still want to read. In
fact, I used Twitter to do a new blog round-up today, and spent the morning
reading some new-to-me blogs. It gave me hope that I'll find even more. Maybe
there's still a community of personal bloggers out there. </p><p style="text-align: left;">It's been a hot
minute, or eight years, since I blogged. I was in the rigors of motherhood with
my first child, and it was hard back then to find a minute. Now, as mother to a
ten- and almost-seven year old, time is a bit easier to find. Maybe I should
stick to a personal, private journal, but I have the drive to blog again. I want
to be a voice for lives simply lived. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Without further ado, I'll update you, or
introduce you to my life in its current iteration: </p><p style="text-align: left;">- I've been married to K for
12 years now, and together for 15 </p><p style="text-align: left;">- Though we're a military family, we've
somehow managed to stay at the same location in Atlantic Canada for the entirety
of ours lives together, and this just happens to be the same city I grew up
near. So I'm truly grounded 'home' here. </p><p style="text-align: left;">- We have two children: A, formerly
known as Baby Bird on the blog, is now ten years old. Our daughter J is almost
seven years old. </p><p style="text-align: left;">- I work part-time at a non-profit where I started as a temp
seven years ago. It's the perfect work/life balance for our family, brings in
just enough income to be helpful, and allows me to not lose my mind in the event
that K is deployed or away for work. I sometimes feel the tendrils of ambition
try to pull me forward to match my potential, but I value the lifestyle that we
have because of my current employment situation. </p><p style="text-align: left;">- My current interests are
adult beginner ballet (again! I returned to class after 11 years this spring!),
slow running, and all things to do with my 2022 project of making us a Camping
Family. </p><p style="text-align: left;">I'm looking forward to writing about my 1986 Jayco pop-up camper, my
adult ballet classes, and my life. </p><p style="text-align: left;">So that's me! <b>Now, tell me about you! Do you
blog? Do you still read blogs? Don't forgot to leave a link to your blog and/or
your favourites.
</b></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-92177277516139565292014-06-01T12:28:00.002-03:002014-06-01T12:28:46.681-03:00The UpdateIt's time for me to fill you in a bit on life in the past...well, frankly, I don't know how long it's been since last I posted.<div>
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<div>
First, an update on Bird. He's awesome. Just bloody awesome. I mean, he's a two-year-old, so obviously life is not always sunshine and roses, but on the whole, he's just blossoming beyond all imagination.</div>
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He has this enormous personality to match his enormous vocabulary.</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>He loves vacuum cleaners, mops, pretending to drive the cars, his sandbox, the playground, his gymnastics class, etc.</li>
<li>He still enjoys his "Mookie-za-zas" from me (yay breastfeeding!)</li>
<li>He now sleeps in his Big Boy Bed (his crib-turned-toddler-bed) and no longer needs to be rocked to sleep - not even for naps. We have experienced some mild growing pains when he figured out how to use the door knob, but over all, he is really good and will just go to sleep when it's time. I realize this is subject to change.</li>
<li>He takes Parent and Tot gymnastics classes because we wanted to encourage him to be more confident in his physical abilities. It worked. He climbs and runs like other children his age now.</li>
<li>He speaks in full sentences, and his memory is scary. Like so scary. He can tell you exactly what he did a week ago if it stood out to him.</li>
<li>He is full of silliness - he has recently taken to telling "jokes" which are hilarious statements such as, "Daddy says pork chop!" He loves to laugh and giggle now.</li>
</ul>
<div>
Now onto other things. When Bird was a year old, neither he nor I were ready for me to go back to a full-time job. I didn't think he was ready to be in care full-time (although in retrospect, he would have been fine), and I certainly did not want to return to a job I wasn't passionate about. We were able to financially make it work for me to stay home, but only just barely. It has been tight. I temporarily had a home business selling tea, have been doing some odds and ends from home, and every cent that comes into our house has been put to good use.</div>
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A year later, it feels different. Bird is older and more like his peers now in terms of how he gets to sleep, etc. He is way less dependent on exclusively Mama or Daddy. I can see him being able to adjust well to full-time care. And as for me, well, I'd sleep better at night if I knew we were saving toward some of our bigger upcoming financial goals, such as a newer car, home improvements, and let's face it, an eventual posting for my husband which would mean selling this house and buying in an unknown market elsewhere. Finally, I don't want to kid myself here - I love being home with Bird but it's not easy, and a big part of me misses working toward my career goals. Ideally, I'd be able to work part-time, but there aren't many part-time jobs in line with what I want from a career. </div>
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As wholly as I know being home with Bird is ideal for him, I also know that we have to do what is best for our whole family. Our finances and my personal goals are part of the family so they deserve consideration as well. No matter what I choose to do, ultimately, it will be in the best interest of our family. At this point, I am job searching actively, but I have the luxury of time to be picky about what I choose. So for now, I'm still Bird's stay-at-home parent, with the knowledge that this could change at any time. </div>
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I hope that no matter what happens, we can all find some degree of balance as a family. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't extremely sad to see my face time with Bird diminish greatly as it likely will.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-42162552445582649642014-01-17T12:44:00.000-04:002014-01-17T12:44:07.107-04:00Let's put this Mom War to bed.More than any other mom war out there (breastfeeding or bottle feeding? Attachment or traditional parenting? and so on), the one that bothers me most is the "Stay at home mom" versus "working mom" war.<br />
<br />
There are so very many reasons why people make the choice to work or to stay home. Let's look at a few of those reasons.<br />
<br />
Staying at home:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li> For some people, it doesn't make financial sense to work due to childcare expenses. This can be true for one child, but often comes in play for those with two or more children of day care age.</li>
<li>Others feel more fulfilled spending their time with their children and are fortunate to be able to afford it (with lifestyle sacrifices for some).</li>
<li>Various therapies for special needs children require a parent to be available for multiple appointments weekly.</li>
<li>Some have a spouse who strongly values a stay at home parent.</li>
</ul>
<div>
Working parent:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Some folks feel more fulfilled by remaining in the workforce.</li>
<li>Others need to work to pay the bills.</li>
<li>Many choose to work to provide a more financially affluent lifestyle for their children. For instance, to be able to afford two vehicles instead of one or to pay for extra-curriculars.</li>
<li>Some remain in the workforce because their spouse may not be fully supportive of having a one income family.</li>
</ul>
<div>
Other variables include:</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Availability of work for each person's chosen profession in their geographical area (for instance, a military family may be posted to a base where work is difficult to find).</li>
<li>Availability of suitable childcare that can accommodate shift demands (nurses, emergency services providers, etc).</li>
<li>A feeling of being torn between staying home and working - unfortunately we may have to choose one way or the other while strongly identifying with both sides. This is a reality I face each day, and I'm certainly not the only one who feels that way. </li>
</ul>
<div>
Why, then, do so many mothers spend so much time having to defend their choice or their requirement to stay at home or to work? Neither choice is easy. </div>
</div>
<div>
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We are equally MOTHERS at the end of each day, and all day long. Being a mother doesn't get put on pause when you go to work, just as staying home qualifies as work many days.</div>
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I bet that when you are home, you give your child your attention and your love. I give MY child my attention and my love, too. I bet you make them meals and do their laundry just as I do. I bet you help them learn and grow every day in unique ways just as I do. </div>
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Can we please take the working parent versus stay at home parent battle off the table? Let's forge a universal understanding that there are so many complexities in why people make one choice versus the other, and that we each do what we feel is in the best interest of ourselves and our children. End of story.</div>
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It's time to put this rivalry to bed, and it starts with us.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-34209242044043609012013-12-31T11:34:00.001-04:002013-12-31T11:34:26.866-04:00Time Marches On: year end reviewIt's New Year's Eve, which seems as good a time as ever to indulge in some optimistic and speculative writing.<div>
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2013 has been so full of love and light. Let's talk about the highlights:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Bird overcame his acid reflux. Hallelujah, this was a big one for our little family. We have seen his true goofy, caring, happy-go-lucky spirit and personality shine through.</li>
<li>Bird started walking right around his birthday - and put a complete end to any worry that he might be behind his peers in any way.</li>
<li>Bird found his words, and LOTS of them! My personal favourites are "I love you" and "Hug!" and "Hi, Mama!". And don't forget, "Daddy home!"</li>
<li>K. went and returned from a 7 week business trip. This was in no way fun, but I learned a lot about my strength as a person and mother and gained a lot of self-confidence as a parent.</li>
</ul>
<div>
Moving into 2014, I feel optimistic. I've been so incredibly fortunate, and for that I am so grateful. Now it's time to figure out how to give back to the world. My 2014 goal is service.</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-13211983498846464082013-12-09T12:51:00.001-04:002013-12-09T12:51:29.718-04:00Ho Ho Ho, here we go, go go!The Christmas and Holiday season crept up on us! We're somewhat ready here in the Bird's Nest, but there is always lots more to do this time of the year.<br />
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So far, we have:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Done 90% of our shopping, even capitalizing on some used deals and making some gifts. For Bird, K. and his father made a<a href="http://ana-white.com/2010/12/helping-tower.html" target="_blank"> Little Helper tower from this amazing website</a> by a mom who can do it all and offers free plans so you can, too. </li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ana-white.com/sites/default/files/helping-tower-plans-diy-mak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://ana-white.com/sites/default/files/helping-tower-plans-diy-mak.jpg" width="362" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Source: Ana White homemaker</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>Purchased our Christmas Day turkey. We'll be entertaining my parents on Christmas Day. My mum has so wonderfully hosted most of the holiday dinners since Bird's been born, but I am perfectly able to cook a damn good turkey dinner now. K.'s brother-in-law has generously offered to do the Christmas Dinner for the gathering for that side of the family on December 22nd. </li>
<li>Ordered our family photo christmas card.</li>
</ul>
<div>
This upcoming weekend, we'll be preparing the decorations and lights. I'm really looking forward to it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As traditions go, we are planning the following as our family Christmas traditions:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Opening one gift each on Christmas Eve. The plan is to make it pyjamas and maybe a Christmas book/movie.</li>
<li>Taking a drive or walk and checking out Christmas lights in different neighbourhoods.</li>
<li>Baking Molasses Spice cookies.</li>
<li>Volunteering/paying it forward in some way, shape, or form. This year I have been volunteering with Feed Nova Scotia. Last year our whole family took up a collection of money amongst ourselves and bought gifts for needy children through our church.</li>
</ul>
<div>
What are your family's traditions? How are your holiday preparations coming along?</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-40401065261190374392013-11-23T08:24:00.001-04:002013-11-23T08:24:28.818-04:00In spite of fearLet's talk fear of failure. We all have it to a degree, but it's how we deal with it that counts.<br />
<br />
A few years ago, I went to a counsellor to discuss how I was feeling generally unproductive and unmotivated in my life. I was genuinely concerned about having attention deficit disorder or another similar issue that was holding me back. After a little diagnostic test, it was shown that I don't. The test did show that I am a type A personality and very hellbent on perfectionism.<br />
<br />
This was a surprise to me because I don't like to work very hard. It's not easy for me to admit that on a public forum like this, but it's true. As much as I love to be seen as a hard working, intelligent, high achieving individual, I only work as much as I have to in order to give that outward appearance to others. This is not because I don't want to be a hard worker, but there is always something - something just out of my mind's reach - that is holding me back from all those things that I truly want to achieve.<br />
<br />
But, the counsellor said fear of failure is a very strong restraining force for many perfectionists. We are so afraid that whatever we put our hand to might not come out to our standards or to the high standards of others, that we don't even try.<br />
<br />
Lately I've been heavily reflecting on my inner self. I've been thinking of my true inner values, my desired outcomes, all my goals and aspirations, and contrasting it with my behaviours. I've been struggling for years now with the disconnect between what I want from myself and what I actually *do*. It's been difficult.<br />
<br />
This morning it clicked, though. It was like jumping into a very deep, very cold pool.<br />
<br />
<i>I am so afraid of failure, so afraid of looking bad in the eyes of others, and so deeply afraid of letting myself down. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I'm also very heavily extrinsically motivated. I'm a people pleaser. I get my sense of value from others telling me I have value.<br />
<br />
Right now, I'm not sure exactly where this leaves me. I'm not sure if it's possible to change where I get my self of self-worth from externally to internally. But I do know this: It's time to say a big old fuck you to fear. It's time to say that it's okay to be afraid of failing but to go ahead and try anyway. It's time to realize that nobody will judge me on my outcomes as long as they see I am trying.<br />
<br />
And I will always try. I'm too young to lay down and play dead and accept the status quo. I must move forward and live without fear.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-54461873660231735142013-11-18T17:23:00.001-04:002013-11-22T12:52:20.208-04:00How do you keep yourself mentally healthy?I have long struggled with mild mental health issues. Of late, it has become very easy to let my self care fall by the way-side, which of course is going to result in a decline in my mental health. One thing I have certainly learned since becoming a mother is that to take of everyone else, I need to take care of myself.<br />
<br />
This is what my personal mental health self-care regime looks like at its best:<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>I take vitamin D (2000-4000iu a day, depending on the time of year)</li>
<li>I limit caffeine to 1-2 cups of coffee, early in the day</li>
<li>I limit refined sugars</li>
<li>I get exercise daily. Even a short walk with Bird daily is so helpful. Outdoor exercise is best for me.</li>
<li>I take time each day to recognize what I have accomplished and what I feel grateful for. This is usually a list of five items under each heading. Even on days that are barely productive, recognizing small accomplishments keeps me from having negative thoughts about my worth. I write these out in my journal.</li>
<li>I often have to limit my social networking time.</li>
<li>When negative self-talk becomes overwhelming to me, I take time to write out the most common negative thoughts and then I craft rebuttals to each one. Then, when the thought pops into my head, I already have a planned way to shut it down. This is surprisingly effective. For example, if I routinely find myself thinking, "I don't understand why anyone likes me" I can rebut with "I am a kind person, a good listener, and I deserve to have the respect and love of others".</li>
<li>When negative thoughts pass into my mind, I acknowledge the thought and give myself permission to have the thought - but then tell myself that just because I am thinking a certain way does not mean that it is true or that it reflects my true self.</li>
<li>I spend time actively pursuing positivity.</li>
<li>When I feel like I am having more bad days than good, I re-examine my progress on all these points. If I am routinely doing these things and they are not helping, I know I need to seek additional support or help.</li>
</ul>
<div>
Tell me how you keep your mental health at its peak?</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-18685960397511989492013-11-17T13:16:00.003-04:002013-11-17T13:16:49.264-04:00Hello? Is there anyone home?Of course I am speaking to my brain. I envision a hollow, echo-y sound because lately it feels like there's not a lot going on upstairs. Occupational hazard of being a stay at home mom.<br />
<br />
First, an update on our dear sweet Bird.<br />
<br />
Bird is an unbelievable 20 months old (well, in two days). This utterly blows my mind. It means he's going to be TWO in four short months.<br />
<br />
He has become the happiest, funniest child. <br />
<br />
Likes:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>chores - sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, laundry. These are things he actually begs me to do each day. It is so much easier to get these things done when your child is enthusiastic about just watching you do them. He has his mini-mop and regularly parades around with the full-size broom, saying, "'weep! 'weep! 'weep!"</li>
<li>Talking. Honey child never stops talking. He's mostly using one word statements, but due to his enormous vocabulary, there is very little he can't get across.</li>
<li>Going for walks, either to the neighbourhood playground or to see the duckies at the stream behind our hours.</li>
<li>Shuh-shies (french fries). He gets them every couple weeks and LOVES them. Mom of the year over here.</li>
<li>SuperWhy and Sesame Street. Hey, his father was away for 7 weeks. Don't judge. We watched a bit of TV twice a day - when we were waking up before breakfast, and when I was cooking supper.</li>
</ul>
<div>
Dislikes:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>When he is done eating and the food is still in front of him. He pushes it away and if it doesn't disappear he'll dump the plate on the table or throw it.</li>
<li>When I don't let him mess with the washing machine buttons or dishwasher buttons.</li>
<li>Honestly, there's very little he just objects to.</li>
</ul>
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Our favourite fall memories so far have been walks "at the speed of toddler," basically meaning walks led by Bird, a glorious trip to a corn maze, the costume party at a local play cafe, and Daddy's first few days back home in mid-October.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
An update on me</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Well, being a stay home mom is wonderful. And not so wonderful at times. We had 7 weeks where it was just Bird and I. During that time, there was a sleep regression, several teeth, and lots of idle days. Bird's nap falls right when most of the free playgroups and activities happen because although most toddlers nap in the early afternoon,Bird naps from 10-1ish. So we often have a hard time filling our days with things to keep Bird engaged and socialized. And, as a result, I have a hard time keeping myself socialized as well. While K. was away, I started feeling very isolated and lonely because Bird goes to bed at 7. My friends all seemed to be busy with their families and day to day lives. I had a lot of help from family and a few friends did venture over to visit, which was so wonderful.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The theme of isolation and loneliness seems to be continuing, though. I have not gotten back into the swing of having a social life yet, although it's been a month since K. has been home. I honestly really miss having outside interests such as ballet, outings with friends, my Career Development Practitioner program, and even work. We have discussed the possibility of me returning to a part-time career, but I haven't put much effort into finding one that suits my needs so far. We even discussed me returning to a full time career, but concluded that it is not what either of us prefer for Bird.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am never sorry I chose to stay at home with Bird. Never. But I do lament that it really doesn't seem possible for a mother to have it all without feeling some sort of role conflict. I know many men face this as well, but it honestly seems that women have this inborn need to do all of the things and that it can very difficult to be personally fulfilled and the mother we want to be all at once - no matter what path you chose : working, working at home, or staying at home.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Anyway, my upcoming challenge for myself is to find some way to have a little adult interaction on a weekly basis and use my brain. The challenge will be to keep my anxiety from holding me back.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-19705188172876256992013-08-27T10:37:00.000-03:002013-08-27T10:37:44.286-03:00Beautiful momentsFrom his room, at 4:22am, I hear him play, then start to cry and stop himself to chant Mama! Mama! Mama!. Then when I gather him in my arms, an excited, emphatic MAMA! before he latches and drinks milk. Then he is still, fitting perfectly in my arms.<br />
<br />
His body weight against my body as he leans back and we become absorbed in a world of "I Already Know I Love You" and "Barnyard Dance". I read, "With a baa and a moo and a cockadoodledoo, everybody promenade two by two," and he pulls out his pacifier to parrot, "cockadoodledoo."<br />
<br />
He nurses and rubs his eyes before his nap. We are still, and content, and sleepy. Suddenly he pops off to sing, "Mop, mop, mop!". I wonder what he is thinking about; what his thoughts and imagination consists of in the moment.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-3568956040196016492013-08-25T07:22:00.001-03:002013-08-25T07:22:18.528-03:00I miss bloggingI'm a dead beat blogger. I'm also a dead beat admin to a few facebook groups. We have had a busy, sometimes difficult few months and I've accepted that I'm probably not going to get my feet under me any time soon so I am just going to move on from 'normal' to 'day by day'.<br />
<br />
Here are a few Baby Bird photos in the meantime. He is 17 months old, toddling like a pro and just said his first sentence: 'More dirt". He is an obvious goofball and an absolute delight.<br />
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Cheers!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-83493766290374808862013-06-12T09:44:00.001-03:002013-06-12T09:44:49.198-03:00The Moment That Made It Worth Everything.Toddler nursing is upon us, and it's been difficult. There are gymnurstics, public demands for nursing. There are periods of nursing frequently like a newborn, when my (perhaps unrealistic) expectations were that he would feed only every 3-4 hours by now. There is my perception that the world around me is judging me for nursing into toddlerhood. And, most recently, there are teeth. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yes, I swore that I would never nurse past teeth, especially if he bit me. Luckily we made it this far without a bite, at least one that injured me. Alas, last week, it happened. I think it was more a poor latch that an actual bite, but it was caused by teething. And it hurt. I am not exaggerating at all when I say that the pain of nursing through that injury was worse than labour. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As a result of expectations vs. reality, I found myself considering whether it was time to impose a nursing schedule, or whether I wanted to wean him before he self-weans. At almost 15 months, there would be no shame in ending our nursing relationship. And to be honest, I haven't given much thought to mom-led weaning versus child-led weaning. I've totally avoiding thinking about the end of our nursing relationship. I just know that despite my frustration, it's not the right time. It makes my heart sad, and it would make Baby Bird's heart sad, too. Know how I know that?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yesterday, my poor teething Bird woke up desperately sad from his nap. After much crying, I got him calmed down and we cuddled for 45 minutes. He was still pretty sad when he started to nurse. After getting his fill, he looked up, smiled and said, "Hap!" - his word for happy. My heart melted. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This. This is exactly why I continue to nurse. When he is sad, it makes him happy. When he is sick, he still gets nutrition despite not eating. When he is overwhelmed, I am his safe haven. Yes, it can be 'inconvenient' to always think about the right tops to wear, or how long we would have to be apart if I go out, and so on. But to stop for those reasons? That would be like breaking up with the love of my life because I don't like his jeans or his work schedule. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-44199654824422838962013-05-09T09:19:00.002-03:002013-05-09T09:19:42.796-03:00Speaking out against the pressure to be perfectI am about to speak out against the pressure to be perfect.<br />
<br />
My home has toys strewn throughout. I haven't cleaned up from breakfast yet, and I'm still in my pyjamas. It's 9am and we have been up for 3 hours. In all likelihood, the house will still look this way at 4pm when my husband gets home, and neither of us care.<br />
<br />
Why? Because our son is happy. Because today I am taking him to visit his little pal to play while I hang out with another friend and mother. Because keeping my son stimulated and happy is important to both of us. Because keeping ME happy is important to both of us.<br />
<br />
<b>I sometimes wish I didn't have such a deep need for 'me time' and 'down time'. But I do.</b> And when I don't get it, my positive attitude and energy can go down the tubes really fast. It's tempting to want to place myself in the same league as all the other mothers who go-go-go and whose houses are spotless and can talk about never getting even 20 minutes to themselves. If we're being honest, I feel like I <i>should</i> be that person a lot of the time. However, <u>I am happiest when I let go</u> of the need to be anybody but who I am, and I focus on taking care of myself so that I can take care of my son.<br />
<br />
But back to the heart of the matter: am I a good mother if all the laundry isn't done? If the floors aren't vacuumed, and supper isn't on the table when my husband gets home? Yes. Because my child is happy and I am happy. Luckily for me, a happy child and wife makes my husband happy, too.<br />
<br />
There are times when I hit all the points on my to-do list and end the day with a happy family all-around. There are days when I damn near kill myself trying and wind up with an upset child and mother. But you know what the best, no-fail path to a happy family is? Abandoning all my expectations for how things <i>should</i> be or what I <i>should</i> be able to do, and just throwing myself into the moment with my family. That always ends in smiles, or at very least, a sense of fulfilment. That, even if it didn't take away illness or teething pain or the grumps, I gave my son what he needed. Or that I gave myself what I needed to refill my tank.<br />
<br />
Only you know what you need - whether that is more or less than society tells you that you should need.<br />
<br />
You do not need to be perfect. You just need to be you.<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-17311356968359660992013-04-04T08:30:00.003-03:002013-04-04T08:30:47.542-03:00The Evolution of DietI've spent a great deal of my adult life shaming myself for my food choices. The expression goes, "When you know better, you do better," and that may be true for many things, but where food is concerned, it has been a long, gruelling road.<br />
<br />
I ate fairly healthy growing up. I was no stranger to a good treat of baked goods or potato chip, true, but over all my mother prepared good solid meals for our family. The one especially important nutritional thing she did for me was ensure I was a breakfast eater (unlike herself). None the less, I always had an affinity for junk food, especially the salty, crunchy wiles of the potato chip. In high school, I would sit and scarf back a bag of Doritos with a chocolate milk at 7:30am for my breakfast.<br />
<br />
Once I left the nest for University at 18 years old, I was FREE! Free to eat freezer junk food for supper because I didn't yet understand that cooking nutritious food was not actually any more expensive. On campus, I frequented the residences' food hall because they were the only spot on campus that served poutine. Vending machines provided a full belly when I had only a few dollars to spare or was running short on time. My first year was a whirl-wind of junk food because I had neither the time, energy, nor money to figure out food.<br />
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And, as you can expect, the pounds started to pack on. First it was the freshman five, and by third year, it was closer to thirty. And I couldn't *see* it.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to graduation. I had stomach issues - bloating and discomfort - and I really wanted to make improvements. I had made some headway with a healthy lifestyle but it wasn't enough. I saw a naturopathic doctor who tested me for food sensitivities and gave me a brief education on nutrition and proper diet. The kind of drastic changes she gave me scared me, but I made an effort in earnest to change. Unfortunately, I didn't do much research to back up my changes which meant it was easier to back slide into bad habits.<br />
<br />
Now, I am desperate to make some changes for good. Baby Bird is so new to this world and especially to food, and we have the opportunity to see that he never has to have the poor relationship with food that we (K. and I) do. Maybe he won't have to crave junk food like it's calling his name. We can make sure he leaves his nest knowing how to shop for and cook healthy choices.<br />
<br />
My personal relationship with food is transforming. Recently, I watched <a href="http://www.hungryforchange.tv/" target="_blank">Hungry for Change </a> (which you can watch on Netflix as well), and also listened to a radio program about how the food industry strives to addict us to their products (<a href="http://www.cbc.ca/thecurrent/episode/2013/03/07/why-salt-sugar-and-fat-are-the-pillars-of-the-processed-food-industry/" target="_blank">listen here</a>). They synthesize tastes and textures formulaically to make sure that when we put their food in our mouthes, we can't stop. Truly, it has become 'Frankenfood'. This has begun to transform me in two very specific ways:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>I am more forgiving of myself when I just can't seem to stop eating this crap.</li>
<li>I am able to turn off the cravings more easily because I think of exactly what is in the products I'm eating and how empty it is nutritively. An example of this is the bottle of Pepsi that has been in my fridge since the weekend. Typically, when pop comes into my house, it doesn't last more than a day or two. I grew up with pop in my house, and I drank it like water. Lately, though, I get the craving for pop. Then I think about how sickeningly sweet it is, how many empty calories and chemicals it contains, and I just can't bring myself to put it into my body (at least not as frequently as I once did).</li>
</ol>
<div>
So, welcome to the evolution of diet at The Bird's Nest. It's not going to be easy, but I just can't live under the control of my food anymore. It's time to break free.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-19992434514271494722013-03-20T08:10:00.002-03:002013-03-20T08:10:55.904-03:00A Sad, Sick BirthdayToday is the day after Baby Bird's first birthday. Baby Bird felt the wrath of his very first stomach bug starting Monday morning.<br />
<br />
Babies with colds are sad.<br />
<br />
Babies who are teething are sad.<br />
<br />
Babies who are throwing up and don't understand what is happening to them are VERY VERY sad. Like, the saddest thing I've ever had to deal with. We just got through 48 hours of stomach bug with Baby Bird, and although my fingers are crossed that he's over it, I am not optimistic.<br />
<br />
Thank goodness I am still breastfeeding. Nothing solid stayed down so we gave up trying after he ate four tiny bites of toast and then puked them up ten minutes later. The next morning we tried banana, but it came back up seconds later. At least he has been keeping small, frequent nursing sessions down.<br />
<br />
We've had laundry on the go all day because each time we put a load in, the poor little man throws up again. Mama, Daddy, and Bird have each gone through several outfits, bedding, a series of receiving blankets, and various other little things. Luckily I had enough sense to cover our couch in sheets and towels - you never know exactly why you keep all those old blankets and sheets around until your child gets the stomach flu. Then it becomes crystal clear.<br />
<br />
I am hovering over each diaper change to determine if and how much he has peed. I'm so afraid of dehydration. The first day was particularly rough in terms of pee-scoping, but yesterday was much better and so far today is even better.<br />
<br />
The saddest part is that yesterday was his first birthday. K had taken Monday and Tuesday off to celebrate with the family, and we had planned some sweet fun for Bird such as playing at the local indoor play place and shopping for a new book. Instead we were at home surrounded by mountains of laundry, and our trip out was to the doctor. No special birthday meal, no treats, no fun trips out. Not the kind of memories we were keen to make. I take some solace that Bird wouldn't remember his birthday this year, anyway, and he didn't understand. Around 5pm yesterday, K said, "Oh! We haven't sung him Happy Birthday yet," to which I promptly burst into tears. The day wrapped up post-bedtime with me crying after realizing that I never again get to hold my sweet first baby during that first year.<br />
<br />
His first birthday party is this weekend, and this stomach big is hanging on longer than I am comfortable with. I personally am still feeling nauseated and I have no appetite, so I'm not optimistic that we're completely out of the woods with Bird yet. I am going to be heartbroken if we have to cancel his birthday party. Please send some major get-well wishes that he recovers in time for me to disinfect the house for Saturday.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-42340240396654242622013-03-17T09:49:00.005-03:002013-03-17T09:49:57.148-03:00A Year Passed Too QuicklyIt's been so long since my last post! Turns out, as busy as I thought I was before Avery started being mobile, I'm about ten times more busy now.<br />
<br />
So here goes.....my baby is a year old.<br />
<br />
Officially, not until Tuesday. But soon enough. While the panicky edge is gone from his first birthday, it's still an extremely bittersweet occasion.<br />
<br />
The only reason I'm not a bigger mess is because somehow, though he is more mobile and independent than ever before, he's also more and more affectionate each day. He gives hugs and kisses, and he brings favourite things to us to play with him or just to hug. I learned just the other day that when your tiny little boy finds and brings you a stuffed animal, you will never want to stop cuddling that stuffed animal. I cuddled Mr. Hooty the Owl all night after Baby Bird went to sleep.<br />
<br />
I'm also learning that your baby is ALWAYS your baby, no matter if they are toddlers, children, teens or adults.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4A8iQ69_wnjBVeinErKqgnwD7Gz6a3bT8Ys94bJA-r89uvEf8BLwlT58G7C_EZ_xePik9u1fP3AbpdSO7sTTb61ZrKCa4sis80CnTn0IGlqJAhwuMLQ0AsZs4lkhkxvXfqk3uTbXUfHF3/s1600/IMG_0434.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4A8iQ69_wnjBVeinErKqgnwD7Gz6a3bT8Ys94bJA-r89uvEf8BLwlT58G7C_EZ_xePik9u1fP3AbpdSO7sTTb61ZrKCa4sis80CnTn0IGlqJAhwuMLQ0AsZs4lkhkxvXfqk3uTbXUfHF3/s640/IMG_0434.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A year ago Tuesday</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikYzF_W35UdrJfkOp7K_eGCpfJnh3_AwGDAM8SfrQj-oE_GcSiFXJaizSfOaocuYPF6EvHCu-E-gBFD7pTHK8aETBW-dXsc6l5SWS-BAbEZDFfIBI-WHpapWb8ISH0QbQlEAWgjJ-9A0N4/s1600/P1000584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikYzF_W35UdrJfkOp7K_eGCpfJnh3_AwGDAM8SfrQj-oE_GcSiFXJaizSfOaocuYPF6EvHCu-E-gBFD7pTHK8aETBW-dXsc6l5SWS-BAbEZDFfIBI-WHpapWb8ISH0QbQlEAWgjJ-9A0N4/s640/P1000584.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few days old</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Okay, so let's talk about Baby Bird:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<ul>
<li>He has a sparkling personality. He is so goofy and cheerful. He is affectionate. He is sensitive to the world around him (especially how mama and daddy are feeling). He walks around with either a big goofy grin or a little sly grin on his face at all times.</li>
<li>He is *almost* walking. He has taken 3-4 unassisted steps at a time, but he much prefers having some support in the form of a hand from Mama or Dad, or to push items around the house. He has a push toy, but he will push anything: laundry basket, file box, high chair, dining room chair.</li>
<li>He has three teeth (maybe four - I'll have to check the fourth to see if it cut this last day or two). He is not a gentle teether. It's been a rough three weeks, and my sympathy factor for how much it must hurt is through the roof.</li>
<li>He still nurses avidly, and he loves food, too.</li>
<li>He will steal your heart in an instant.</li>
<li>He loves to show off for people, but he is not a fan of loud, crowded rooms (as we discover frequently at a crowded playgroup we attend weekly).</li>
<li>He's very talkative. He's now starting to try to mimic words (he especially loves 'B' words: "Bump!" "Boom!" "Button"). And he chatters all the time.</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">11 months or so</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPv15eFJCEuIj_mfT313kZqQ-XEKWQ3G1LpK6fOQfTXKlC4kGBkb7NbySDyK1B12gJT2LtMcDgIePALSOOUgFeqgWuAg3_zxfav1ifIN2ZqcbaObJB6PsQM4bDORuE1j7XYl42SrOViKJz/s1600/296313_10152702644610160_599104578_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPv15eFJCEuIj_mfT313kZqQ-XEKWQ3G1LpK6fOQfTXKlC4kGBkb7NbySDyK1B12gJT2LtMcDgIePALSOOUgFeqgWuAg3_zxfav1ifIN2ZqcbaObJB6PsQM4bDORuE1j7XYl42SrOViKJz/s640/296313_10152702644610160_599104578_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First time on a swing last week</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Let's talk about motherhood a year in. I'm definitely going to start crying part way through this:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>It's been the fastest year of my life. I once heard someone say, "The days are long but the years are short" in reference to parenthood, and I couldn't agree more. Often, by bedtime, I am dying for some respite or a hot shower. But overall, the time flies by and it can be so very difficult to take it all in. On the whole, though, I think I'm doing an excellent job of living in the moment and being fully present with Bird.</li>
<li>I have not slept a full night since before Bird was born. People ask me why don't I sleep train. The short answer is that I just don't believe it's necessary for us. We are tired some days, but overall we believe babies have needs and that he will end up being a better sleeper who is more secure in the long run.</li>
<li>I still marvel at the change in myself. I went from not maternal, not sure about breastfeeding, *need* to be a working person, etc., to a complete mother hen. </li>
<li>I am still about 20 lbs over my pre-pregnancy weight. I did not plan to be anything but fit and thin by now, but I'm finding the weight is not a priority. As for fitness, my best laid plans have been interrupted by a medical issue (nothing serious, but something that needs healing before I can so much as walk) and I'm hoping to have a resolution for that soon so I can run my 5km in June.</li>
<li>The amount of love in my life is immense. There are days (er, daily) that I just stare at Bird and my eyes well up with such pride and love that I just cannot put into words. My child, my husband, my family - they are perfect. And in that utter perfection (even in times of discord and chaos), I have found that I love myself more than ever, too. That doesn't mean I don't feel like I'm failing at the mom thing from time to time - I do have terrible-awful-not-very-good days sometimes, but they pass quickly.</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMdv5QIha2Bo0cCq6-pEatOrPDz-VjnRWxvjK5orrvWXUDxHxZxY8o4AwV1tYg0AfupgitF7NkuAIUI_ArgpSeL-Fc6CpqLox3ea1CXCjTLUMSsxgihcxAMsoF62j7ZH_TKPAzfxTXXwGI/s1600/kbjuly2012+-+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMdv5QIha2Bo0cCq6-pEatOrPDz-VjnRWxvjK5orrvWXUDxHxZxY8o4AwV1tYg0AfupgitF7NkuAIUI_ArgpSeL-Fc6CpqLox3ea1CXCjTLUMSsxgihcxAMsoF62j7ZH_TKPAzfxTXXwGI/s640/kbjuly2012+-+4.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Favourite Photo - 4 months old</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
So that's it - onto toddlerhood. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-58175014886061589562013-01-28T17:47:00.001-04:002013-01-28T17:47:30.856-04:00Purge it.<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've been rampaging through my house, purging unwanted things and trying to improve our household organization. It's such a great feeling, as Christmas seems to bloat a house with new belongings.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The idea of a minimalist wardrobe has always intrigued me, so I figured I would start working my way down to having such a wardrobe. I made a list of things I absolutely need to have and sat on it for a few days. Facing so many too-small items, many of which were brand-new shortly before pregnancy, was bound to be difficult.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am a solid twenty pounds from fitting into most of those things. I didn't even bother to pack them away when I was pregnant or after Avery was born because I thought the weight would fall off. And I was surely going to get back to being very fitness- and nutrition-conscious after my 6-week post-partum check up. The unfortunate reality is that neither weight loss nor fitness has happened. The only time I can bring myself to care about my weight is when I see a photo of me, or when I am trying on pants and get size-shock. Otherwise, it doesn't gross me out when I look in the mirror, nor am I terribly self-conscious about it. I haven't had any of the "I'm too big" meltdowns that I had before pregnancy and motherhood.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's okay to let go of the clothes that don't fit.</span> It's also okay to let go of the clothes that fit but make me feel frumpy. Letting go of things sized smaller is not the same as admitting personal defeat on weight loss. It means that <b>I don't need to face a daily reminder of what I am not</b>, and that I deserve to have clothing that fits and makes me feel nice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I signed up for a 5k fun run today. It's in June, so I have just over 5 months to go from couch potato to runner. I'm not promising myself weight loss because, frankly, I'm not ready to put in the work to make it happen. <span style="font-size: large;">What I'm doing is promising myself I'll be healthy</span>. That I will give myself the gift of more energy and less anxiety. That I will be capable of running around with my child. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-91908014884690199882013-01-17T16:53:00.003-04:002013-01-17T16:53:39.789-04:00Being a Grown-Ass WomanSo it's Thursday of my first week as a homemaker, and my first week of getting my shit in gear. This week, I acted as a responsible adult (except for one small PMS-triggered mini-tantrum) and did stuff. Like, stuff other than/concurrent with mothering. And you know what? It's not half bad. The important thing to mention is that I still was responsive to Baby Bird, and since much of this was done with him in his carrier or in his high chair right next to me, I was probably actually more responsive than if we were just sitting around all day.<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>I meal-planned on Tuesday</li>
<li>I grocery-shopped avec Baby Bird Wednesday</li>
<li>We attended a story time at the library on Wednesday and our cloth-diapering playgroup today</li>
<li>I have done multiple loads of laundry, including stripping the diapers.</li>
<li>I strapped Baby Bird into his Beco carrier and vacuumed. I'd been afraid of doing this because I HATED the vacuum as a small child so I assumed he would wig out. Instead, he chatted to me and to the vacuum, enjoying himself thoroughly.</li>
<li>I cleaned the kitchen roughly 80,000 times. Between grabbing quick food for myself and feeding Baby Bird, I cannot keep my kitchen clean. It's a perpetual mess. I confess, it drives me crazy to have a messy kitchen.</li>
<li>I actually am cooking a meal right now.</li>
<li>I MADE MY HUSBAND'S LUNCH FOR WORK. I literally NEVER make him his lunch because I hate how it feels to make a man's lunch. He is a grown-ass man, he can pack his own damn lunch. But this morning, he got up super early to shovel and he was running later getting back in. I wanted to make sure he'd have enough time to get ready so I made his lunch and his tea in the travel mug.</li>
<li>I'm sure I've done more, and I could visit my weekly goals list to find out what the forgotten items are, but I don't feel like it.</li>
</ul>
<div>
So. It looks like after ten months of slovenliness and excuses, I am finally figuring out that I'm perfectly capable of running my household without neglecting my mothering duties. #Winning.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-9578683346790343402013-01-15T08:39:00.003-04:002013-01-15T08:39:55.048-04:00The Unthinkable Has HappenedAfter months of heart ache, anxiety, and tears, we reached a decision. I am now officially a stay at home mom. Had you asked me before Baby Bird's birth what the chances of me doing the stay at home mom thing were, I'd have laughed and given you an emphatic ZERO! But, turns out these little tykes worm their way into your heart for the better.<br />
<br />
We notified the daycare on Friday and my employer yesterday. It was freeing. I happy-cried my whole way home from giving my resignation. I could go on at length about how we arrived at our decision and how amazingly happy I am about it, but you get the picture.<br />
<br />
Now that I am officially unemployed, it's time to give my life some structure. I've been living in a state of transition since Baby Bird was born. I seem to live two extremes - either extremely organized and structured or no structure at all. This is largely because I get stressed out when I make plans and they don't work out. I've been relying heavily on K. to do things like meal planning and grocery shopping - this was necessary while I was doing full-time college on maternity leave or else I'd never have survived. But now homemaking and mothering IS my job, so it's time to make it work.<br />
<br />
Here is how I'm giving life some structure for now:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Making a weekly goals list. I'm calling it a goals list because to-do list sounds very "must". If it's a goal, I'll be happy to meet it but not devastated if life has other things in store for me that week.</li>
<li>Take over the meal planning and grocery shopping. I will probably start participating in the cooking again, too. My circadian clock goes haywire from 4-6pm, and I have a difficult time acting like a grown up during those hours so we'll see about that one.</li>
<li>More exercise. This is a nebulous goal for now. I've been so lazy for so long that I'm starting slow - my goal is 4 x 30 minute walks by January 30th.</li>
<li>Playdates - I will make it my goal to have Avery attend at least two playgroups per week.</li>
</ul>
<div>
I know it is going to be a struggle for me to combat my all-or-nothing attitude when it comes to accomplishing things around the house. None the less, I have allowed myself to be overwhelmed and I think I have some learned helplessness going on at this point. It's time to step up to the plate and act like the adult that I am.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-86787140491539619282013-01-03T07:52:00.002-04:002013-01-03T07:52:58.423-04:00My Mama Manifesto<br />
<ol>
<li>I believe first and foremost in trusting my motherly instincts to guide me, especially in difficult times.</li>
<li>I respond to my child's needs to the best of my ability. I do not believe in letting my children cry without comfort.</li>
<li>Silliness always has a place in my home.</li>
<li>I believe in breastfeeding for my family, but I don't judge you on how you feed yours.</li>
<li>I do what works for my family, regardless of how many times I may have said I would 'never' do something.</li>
<li>I believe in being a confident mother who is passionate about mothering.</li>
<li>I prefer to approach children's health from a holistic point of view and using natural solutions where possible.</li>
<li>I will foster a sense of independence in my child by fulfilling his needs, allowing him to explore, and guiding his development. This does not mean allowing him to do as he pleases, as wants are different than needs.</li>
<li>My house is filled with clutter because it is filled with love first and foremost - that is to say that I don't care too much for the housekeeping when I can be spending quality time with my little man.</li>
</ol>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-71823491205238164152012-12-17T09:29:00.001-04:002012-12-17T09:29:39.015-04:00Manic Monday: Christmas Break!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNizL6KxmZXid4AeJv9Avh9mYTnKPMpnS_bGsZRn1MYtAB8YyXO9A8GPHLx43M-YkgFdmUCPNLTVkJ2ws86GZ6IvNNvMZKUUsTR_9Ahq0XxlrVVnciSuQsbRpMWRRogzgqFe5VrgOus0ad/s1600/ManicMondayLinky.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNizL6KxmZXid4AeJv9Avh9mYTnKPMpnS_bGsZRn1MYtAB8YyXO9A8GPHLx43M-YkgFdmUCPNLTVkJ2ws86GZ6IvNNvMZKUUsTR_9Ahq0XxlrVVnciSuQsbRpMWRRogzgqFe5VrgOus0ad/s1600/ManicMondayLinky.png" /></a></div>
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Hello! Welcome to Manic Monday! It's great that it happens to be Monday, because I wanted to blog without any real solid idea for one particular post.<br />
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<br />
<ul>
<li>First and foremost, my heart is broken over the tragic shooting in Newtown, CT. I decided not to immerse myself in the detail after the first night, as I felt shaken profoundly to the core of my being. My sadness is not what the world needs right now. The world needs positive energy.</li>
<li>Speaking of positive energy, I'd like to introduce you to my new side project, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/TheOnlinePositivityMovement?ref=hl" target="_blank">The Online Positivity Movement</a>. A few weeks ago, I decided that I don't enjoy the negativity on social media. From Facebook drama to heated, uncivilized debates over politics and gun control and so on, to people simply posting that they are having terrible days or are in foul moods on a continuous basis....it just got to be overwhelming. I started The Online Positivity Movement to start sharing some positivity and happiness on social media each day. Take a look, 'Like' it, and share it with your friends!</li>
<li>Let's share some photos:</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ6e8EN6vAOEhOaP1L_Pu7-p_tPSUgj0v1utEVHNyKB-5t924Farx9b7hJkkxi9EqVY_cTri_ex9IEnD4skU-10qSy6C5OXNVDp8_5RAmsWL83VE863e8mPrx69XmtVxsvaF_5MtAa3lAt/s1600/jbfamxmas2012-2web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ6e8EN6vAOEhOaP1L_Pu7-p_tPSUgj0v1utEVHNyKB-5t924Farx9b7hJkkxi9EqVY_cTri_ex9IEnD4skU-10qSy6C5OXNVDp8_5RAmsWL83VE863e8mPrx69XmtVxsvaF_5MtAa3lAt/s640/jbfamxmas2012-2web.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my father-in-law in a Santa suit...makes the photo so much more special.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOTzotoI7kQbWbktnMvADtKGq_xf6QSpGPwLXc4DabUHeJZygl7E_uwUDYX9_937JP7hD5HQ0hytFWZ6ztFzo200ByRJ59Fro8M2EXSUleqxmzkujTYLtt1A1P4wB4WefaNS97MgM3Ttqv/s1600/P1010129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOTzotoI7kQbWbktnMvADtKGq_xf6QSpGPwLXc4DabUHeJZygl7E_uwUDYX9_937JP7hD5HQ0hytFWZ6ztFzo200ByRJ59Fro8M2EXSUleqxmzkujTYLtt1A1P4wB4WefaNS97MgM3Ttqv/s640/P1010129.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yum! Spaghetti!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGV7lrlw7Ek2fzKG0f4OVrJkxJSyT8zu4smauTRNPlroDhKume9bFDovlk8H1Jxwcvyh9JdygU-SdprC8S2hWcbpYEFIfHhrJOeMGF9lmb7B2Lgd_jv95uO8tW20Ygg2kRBAHXCHTkahcH/s1600/P1010121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGV7lrlw7Ek2fzKG0f4OVrJkxJSyT8zu4smauTRNPlroDhKume9bFDovlk8H1Jxwcvyh9JdygU-SdprC8S2hWcbpYEFIfHhrJOeMGF9lmb7B2Lgd_jv95uO8tW20Ygg2kRBAHXCHTkahcH/s640/P1010121.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">K., the recipient of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee Medal.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-89792000073780893652012-12-12T08:59:00.001-04:002012-12-12T08:59:18.107-04:00It Must Be So FrustratingImagine with me for a moment.<br />
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You are so eye-droopingly tired. You want nothing more than to relax and drift off into dream land. You are cuddled up in your cozy, comfy bed and you know you should be okay, but your mind races. You can't shut it off. You keep tossing and turning impulsively; it's beyond your control. Your partner keeps telling you to just lay still and that if you're so tired, you should sleep. But you can't.<br />
<br />
I think that must be what it's like to be a baby trying to sleep in the midst of a developmental leap. Baby Bird was just so tired, and grumpy, but he just couldn't drop off to sleep. It's been like this since Sunday. First it was his first two teeth cutting, and now it seems like he is putting all his energy into gross motor development toward crawling.<br />
<br />
Yes, for me, it's very much frustrating. We don't really sleep train here, so a summary of nap-time is:<br />
<br />
Rock rock rock<br />
Baby seems drowsy but eyes pop open<br />
Baby arches back and squirms until Mama gives up<br />
<br />
or<br />
<br />
Rock rock rock<br />
Baby falls asleep in arms<br />
Put baby down<br />
Baby rolls onto stomach and tries to crawl away<br />
<br />
Lather, rinse, repeat.<br />
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Sometimes I give up and we go play until I get my patience back.<br />
<br />
But today it sunk in. How miserable must it be to be so exhausted but you just can't power down for the snooze you desperately need? Adults with insomnia, you know what I'm talking about here.<br />
<br />
So today, I just kept my patience. I empathized with Baby Bird while I rocked and shooshed him gently. His eyes closed and his little body relaxed. I put him down and covered him with his blanket.<br />
<br />
I walked out. Put an English Muffin in the toaster and the kettle on to boil.<br />
<br />
"WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Bird awakens with a start.<br />
<br />
I curse the whole way to the room, breathe a deep breathe to regain my composure and enter.<br />
<br />
Repeat the empathy, rocking. Put Bird down, cover with blanket, blow him a kiss.<br />
<br />
It stuck. He's napping. Must've been the kiss I blew him.<br />
<br />
Sometimes it pays to just be patient.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-3043188916844943272012-12-10T08:00:00.005-04:002012-12-10T08:01:00.453-04:00Manic Monday<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Goooooood morning! I'm not really sure why I'm so chipper this AM, given the almost 2-hour Party Baby session we experienced overnight, followed by the extremely sad baby this morning. BUT I am. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Welcome back to Manic Monday!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNizL6KxmZXid4AeJv9Avh9mYTnKPMpnS_bGsZRn1MYtAB8YyXO9A8GPHLx43M-YkgFdmUCPNLTVkJ2ws86GZ6IvNNvMZKUUsTR_9Ahq0XxlrVVnciSuQsbRpMWRRogzgqFe5VrgOus0ad/s1600/ManicMondayLinky.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNizL6KxmZXid4AeJv9Avh9mYTnKPMpnS_bGsZRn1MYtAB8YyXO9A8GPHLx43M-YkgFdmUCPNLTVkJ2ws86GZ6IvNNvMZKUUsTR_9Ahq0XxlrVVnciSuQsbRpMWRRogzgqFe5VrgOus0ad/s1600/ManicMondayLinky.png" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Let's talk about...stuff. In a bulleted list.</span><br />
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I completely dropped the ball on Christmas shopping for the relatives "away". It's only half done, and my usual self-imposed deadline for shipping was yesterday. I guess I know what I'm doing tonight. How it got to be December 10th is beyond me.</span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My family and my best friend has banded together to buy gifts for needy families this Christmas. Yesterday I went to church and picked up all the gift requests, and I will complete the shopping this week. I feel that we are so fortunate, it's the least we can do to give other families a chance at a merry Christmas without worrying. I encourage everyone who can to do a little something - donate a few items to a food bank, purchase warm winter wear for children in need, donate to the Salvation Army's Christmas campaign.</span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have only one assignment left for this semester of my Career Development Practitioner program. How I survived, I'm unsure. While I wish I had started part-time, I don't regret full-time. I got so much confidence back from baby-wrangling and getting excellent grades in school. Now I'm really excited for some down time.</span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Baby Bird has at least two teeth cutting right now. He's honestly taking it really well. He has his moments of upset but overall, he's been happy.</span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I ordered a new bag to use as a diaper bag. The one we originally chose pre-birth ended up being a little on the small side, especially considering we use cloth diapers (a little extra bulk), and we are planning to eventually have another child. It's this one from Lululemon:</span></li>
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<a href="http://images.lululemon.com/is/image/lululemon/LW9546S_9853_1?$pdp_main$" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://images.lululemon.com/is/image/lululemon/LW9546S_9853_1?$pdp_main$" width="514" /></span></a></div>
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My usual Christmas decorating style is Victorian, with white lights and rich jewel-toned ribbons. I like it classy and twinkly. But now with a baby, I'm leaning toward FUN FUN FUN! This Christmas we've bought a few new fun decorations. After Christmas, when all the decorations go on clearance, we're going to stock up on coloured lights and fun decorations for next year.</span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What's your Christmas decorating style?</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831475280019025798.post-65370445367745243582012-12-04T08:52:00.002-04:002012-12-04T08:52:33.228-04:00IrrelevantI swore it would never, no, it COULD never, become me.<br />
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I'm going to say these three words just once, so treasure them. Savour them. Because you're not likely to see them in anything I write for a long, long time.<br />
<br />
I. Was. Wrong.<br />
<br />
It started slowly. I was in the habit of dressing decently and putting on make up daily. Then, after Bird was born and Keegan went back to work, some days I couldn't manage to do more than quickly dress in whatever I could find and throw my hair in a pony tail. It wasn't every day, though, so I felt safe because I still mostly made the effort.<br />
<br />
Then I went from daily showers to once every two days. That was okay.<br />
<br />
But this is day three and I'm wearing a head wrap to disguise my hair. And I'm not going to get a chance to shower until K. gets home.<br />
<br />
Then I had to stop accessorizing because babies pull on and eat everything. So no more pretty dangly earrings, and no more necklaces, and definitely no more wearing my hair down.<br />
<br />
In October, we got rid of cable. No more Canada AM to keep me up to only a day behind on my news or show me the latest viral video. No more Ellen show to keep me somewhat up to date on pop culture. <strike>No more re-runs of What Not To Wear.</strike> No more watching our favourite shows the night they air. Heck, I don't even know what shows are even relevant anymore.<br />
<br />
So here we are. I, my friends, have become uncool. Unhip. Not "with it". I'm a mom who has no idea what is happening in the world or what adults do for fun anymore. I don't know what's trendy for the winter.<br />
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What I DO know is that all of those things have become unimportant to me. One day, when I have a more independent child and I'm back in the working world, I'll probably care again. But right now, what I care about is my home. My family. My little slice of quiet heaven each morning while my son naps. Watching him learn and grow. Taking him to playgroups so he can socialize while Mama talks to other mamas going through the same thing. I care about my studies. I care about learning and growing as a human. I care about learning to be generous of spirit and with my time. Learning to balance the motherhood side of my life with ability to still be me.<br />
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So what if that means I'm not really on top of the 'real world' right now? I'm deeply in love with my life, and indeed with living itself.<br />
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And that, my friends, is worth its weight in all those things I have let go.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2