Parenthood is full of magical moments. Like today, when I was sitting with my daughter in the living room, her on her mat, me beside her. We were discussing Nietzche's theories, of course, as we often do, and then moved quickly along to another favourite topic, the relationship of mother to monster in the Beowulf saga. And then she burped. And then she leaned forward and I juuuuusst managed to pick her up in time to prevent the poop from coming over the top of her diaper and onto her pants and shirt. Score! Less laundry for me!

Yep. Magical.

Oh, Vancouver!

What on earth are you doing?? What is THIS? It's NOVEMBER for God's sake!!! I've never known you to be this cold, this crazy.

But as an aside you have a great sense of humour. Two years ago you gave us a splendid white Christmas with feet of snow. This year, snow earlier and in greater quantities than I can remember as a long term west-coaster.

But last year? Year of the Winter Olympics?

Flowers in January.

Bravo Vancouver. I tip my hat to you.

Eating myself out of house and home

Yesterday I made chicken soup from almost-scratch (used a cooked rotisserie chicken), and then made an apple crisp / crumble (you know, the cooked apples with oats and stuff on top) and THEN made some chocolate chip banana cookie bars.

In keeping with this flurry of activity, I also ate two large bowls of the soup for dinner, along with ... several spoonfuls of crisp, several cookie bars, some gummy bears, some nutella, some cheese, and pretty much whatever else was on the counter in the kitchen that was remotely edible.

I don't know if it's the cold or the season or the constant nursing or all of the above but somebody stop me! I'm out of control! This is worse than being pregnant! Because, you know, unlike when there was a baby in there taking up space, now there's so much more room.

November in Vancouver 2

It's cold and snowy but clear and sunny ... Frankly I'm just completely puzzled by this November. Starts off sunny and warm, ends with sunny and snow? Where am I? Where are my cold rainy grey days? IS THIS A SIGN OF THE END TIMES???!

Just in case you were wondering

The correct kitchen implement for removing slices of apple from the small neck of a metal water bottle (yes, that exact one!) is a chopstick. You'd think that tweezers would be good, for gripping, but they are too small to effectively grasp the apple. You'd think that the cheese knife with the hook end would be good for grabbing. But no, a simple chopstick to poke away the slices you don't want and encourage the one slice you do want does the trick admirably.

Also, it gets easier when there are only three or so left in the bottle, as opposed to the original 10. This easy task will only use up 15 minutes of your day!

Just my public service announcement for the day.

Weirdnesses

So I'm shopping in the grocery store this morning. My daughter is in a sling, with a hat. I get comments on her a lot -- she's a baby, for one thing. And she has big blue eyes, and that draws people in. So I'm standing in line to pay and a stranger comes up -- an older lady. White hair, but not elderly, so maybe 60-ish? 70 maybe? And she coos at the baby. This in itself is not surprising.

But then ... then without even initiating another conversation with me ("how old?" "boy or girl?" You know. The usual.) she leans in and says conspiratorially, "Breastfed?"

And I stammer out yes because although I'm shocked and I think it's a little inappropriate, I'm trained to be nice and so I answer.

And she pats my shoulder (!!) and makes approving noises and then makes a few other comments and goes on her way.

But here's the thing: As I've already said here I'm still breastfeeding our daughter and I'm not exactly shy about it. I'm a vocal supporter of same for other mothers as well, so I can't quite understand why I thought her asking me was weird. I mean, if I'll tell the wider internet, why not some stranger in the grocery store? And it's not just the internet -- most friends and relations know I breastfeed too.

Was it that we weren't chatting? That that was all she asked? I am perplexed.

* * * * * * * *

Speaking of weirdness, turns out my daughter's quirky love of broccoli wasn't a one time thing. We had some for dinner on the weekend and she went nuts over a stalk again. And the next morning, we put some on her high chair tray with some other toys. Guess what she went for, with shrieks of delight? The broccoli.

Today however, I'm encouraging her fickleness, and managed to get dinner prepared while she was absorbed for 20 minutes with a slice of apple.

Now if she'd just eat something.

Hungry

When my son was nine months old, I took him to the doctor. I was panicked. Worried. Confused. "He won't eat!!" I exclaimed. "nothing! Just breastmilk!"

The doctor paused, as if waiting for me to state the actual problem.

"He won't eat! He spits everything out! Or gags! He's nine months old! Shouldn't he be eating by now? I've been trying for three months!"

The doctor said ... "is he healthy? Is he growing?" When the answer was yes, she merely shrugged. "Some babies don't eat at six months. Some take longer. He's fine."

And indeed he was fine. And still is, and in fact is a good eater by preschooler standards. But he didn't willingly ingest solid food until he was 10 months old, and didn't get significant calories from solid food until a year old. He was over 20 pounds by that point. Heck he was 19 pounds at 4 months. Nine months in I would eat brownies every day and still lose weight which sounds like bliss until you are faced with the reality of trying desperately to nourish yourself as your body struggles to satisfy the relentless hunger of a growing baby. The constant constant hunger. The tiredness. The inability to do anything without the baby because he / she will not eat anything and I cannot pump.

My daughter is now staring down seven months old. Despite a promising start -- showing interest in food as I ate, wanting to touch it, making chewing motions -- she too has rejected all attempts to introduce other foods. This weekend after a molecule of avocado went in her mouth without her grimacing, I attempted less than half a babyspoonful and she then gagged so much I had to seize her from her highchair ... And then the gagging made her vomit all over the floor. Spectacularly.

Unsurprisingly, despite the fact that my daughter is far smaller than my son, I found myself this weekend in the kitchen eating cookies / yogurt / crackers mounded with hummus / apples by the fistful. I've even (gross!!) been eating Nutella by the spoonful which is not only gross but puzzling given normally I hate Nutella (yes I realize that's weird).

It seems altogether likely that March will roll around before she deigns to let the tempting morsels I lovingly prepare for her cross her lips, and the next three months may well be a fury of gobbling on my part. It's fine. I knew this was possible, even likely. And being able to eat ANYTHING is a delight I admit. And how else will I get my work wardrobe to fit again?

But man. It sucks to lie in bed two hours after dinner with a growling stomach, thinking only of what I get to eat next. I'm SO HUNGRY!!!

Yep, yep, too cold for us Vancouverites

So we did wake up to snow this morning -- a beautiful white covering on everything which quickly turned into frigid and unpleasant slush. There's nothing like going out in the morning to grab something quickly from the downstairs locker, and have a great hunk of slush from a nearby tree drip down your neck. God I love winter.

It was obvious from the look of things -- the iciness and heaviness of the snow, mostly -- that the whiteness was not going to last. So we encouraged The Boy to go out before breakfast. He thought we were nuts, but at last acquiesced, put on his coat and boots and went out to the patio. He walked around, made some footprints, and picked up a few globs of snow here and there.

We had been given -- no idea why -- a pink snowsuit for our daughter way back in the summer. Perhaps it's a ritual in other parts of Canada? Welcome a new baby with the necessary snow gear? It's been hanging in the closet since then, but we hauled it out and placed our daughter therein and suffered her to sit on the patio in the snow while we snapped a photo. We had to use it once, after being given it! She did not look thrilled. She was unimpressed with the snowsuit. We came inside.

Shortly thereafter The Boy declared it "too cold" and also came indoors.

I'm not-so-secretly thrilled to be raising hardy west-coasters.

Only in Vancouver ...

Would "5 to 10 cm" of snow be considered a "SNOWFALL WARNING!!!"

True enough though that the city will PANIC over it.

PTA Mom

The other night I went off to a meeting of the daycare parent council. I'm a member now. One of the officers, I suppose, if you want to get technical. It's not a big job or an important one -- a few hours of my time, putting in an effort to help out here and there. It's not a big deal at all.

But.

I'm totally happy with my life. I'm almost 37. I'm a mother to two. I'm the school volunteer. My career is fine. It's all good.

But 21 year old me wonders how the hell I got here. The PTA Mom? Really? I can handle the house and the career and the parenthood but now I'm starting to feel like a caricature.

And yet at the same time? 37 year old me wonders when she'll start feeling like a grown up.

How did my mom always look so together when I feel like I'm faking it?!

Broccoli!!

This morning my daughter stole the raw broccoli from my lunch and was so delighted with it OMG MOM THIS IS SO AWESOME I SHALL SHRIEK IN DELIGHT AND THEN CRY WHEN I DROP IT WHY HAVE I NEVER HAD THIS TO PLAY WITH BEFORE OMG OMG.

Really the blog post title should be OMFG BROCCOLI!!!1!

* * * * * * * * *

I started Christmas shopping today. I planned to start early given I'm on leave this year and, well, for me, November 16 IS early. I simply cannot get into the mindset in October. There is nothing that my daughter needs -- last of four grandkids, she has more clothes and toys than she needs. But I got it into my head that she needs a dolly. A doll for a girl, we don't have any. A doll of her own and it has somehow become vitally important that *I*, as her mother, buy her this doll that she will love forever and ever.

She will probably ignore the doll. Especially in favour of the pretty crinkly paper!

Or the broccoli, which apparently I should wrap up under the tree.

So like any other completely obsessed and crazy mother, I searched for this doll. The internet, I mean, not the real world (drrr! Too much work!) And I found the dolls I wanted. Oh, I found them. Adorable! Dressable! Cuddly! Pink! Imported! A baby for my baby! I located the website and found a nearby store that carries the line (Corelle, if you are interested.). And this morning when I could resist temptation no longer, I went to find the Perfect Doll.

(She is STILL playing with the broccoli, BTW.)

And I found the dolls, and they are oh so pretty but ...

OH dear God they are scented.

To smell like babies, I suppose, but LORD Oh, LORD no.

Any of you old enough to remember Cabbage Patch Kids may remember the first line of them were scented like baby powder. And I remember that at first whiff it was kind of cute but holding them close for anything longer than 15 minutes was nauseating. And holding and smelling that doll today ... Yeah, no matter how adorable and wonderful this doll is, if I have to smell it for the next two years I will probably DIE.

My love for the idea of the perfect doll was so great that I almost bought it, until I happened upon the cheap section at the back for babies and found an adorable soft Gund doll dressed in purple corduroy with yarn pigtails and realized in fact that the doll I had wasn't perfect, but this one was. It was not quite $20, and probably was made in China.

But it's the doll I can see my daughter carrying with her as she starts to toddle around the house. So it's ours now.

She's now mouthing the broccoli. Clearly this is the start of a passionate and unrequited love. Good thing she has the doll. Showing up to daycare with a child and a head of broccoli as a comfort toy would be very hard to explain.

Remembering

We aren't at a remembrance ceremony today. We aren't planning to go. I don't even have a poppy given I carry my baby everywhere and I deemed the close proximity of her eyes and a sharp pin too dangerous.

But I write this as an exercise, as a statement that I too remember. I remember and acknowledge the many sacrifices those who went before us made to make a place where today my children are safe and healthy. I recognize and honour the people today who continue to fight that fight for us.

I tell my son about his great-grandfather who was in the navy. He's four. That's exciting. Someday I'll tell him that his other great-grandfather who worked for MI6 in London during the Second World War. When he's 14, that will be exciting.

And I hope by telling him, keeping their stories alive, that when he's 21 he'll remember, and think, and advocate for peace.

Six months

She is six months old now, growing taller by the minute, smiling and giggling and wanting to touch everything. And she sits. Oh, she sits. On her mat in the living room, alone and unassisted, looking about at her world, grasping toys and playing.

I am a big fan of the 6-24 month set. I think it was my favourite stage, and the sitting is a big part of that ... They can play and interact and get around and aren't totally dependent but are still small enough to tote around. The learning! The joy! The fun! Oh how I love small toddlers!

But oh. When I see her, sitting there? I know my baby is gone. My son will be five in less than four months. FIVE. I know how fast it goes. And here she is, taking on the world already. How come it goes so fast?

Sick

November, you have been unkind.

It started on the second, when I had a scratchy throat and thought ... hmmmm. This maybe isn't so great.

And then on the third, I felt really low. But I hadn't slept well and thought ... maybe it's just lack of sleep.

Thursday I had a fever. I couldn't breathe through my nose no matter what I tried (save hard drugs since hey surprise! Can't take those when you're nursing!) and felt like absolute hell. Friday felt like more of the same. Saturday ... Saturday afternoon I felt like I was feeling better. A little. A tiny bit. Maybe there was light at the end of the tunnel.

And that's when I noticed the little line of snot coming from the baby's nose.

Since Saturday I have slept about ... ten hours? I think? All broken up. I feel remarkably good considering that AND considering I still have the darn cold, and I can only assume that it's mother hormones kicking in and carrying me through and that once the menace has left the house I will collapse completely and we will be overrun with dirty laundry.

The baby, she seems perkier today. I hope. I may be grasping at hope where there is none, though, because HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND PURE, I WANT TO SLEEP TONIGHT.

And sleep? Only will come if the baby lets me.

Pray for us.

Oh and did I mention at the doctor's today the doctor poked into her mouth and was all "hey lookit that! She's teething on the top! Her gums look really sore!" Can I get a thumbs up and an awesome for that? Wasn't she teething through the LAST cold?

November in Vancouver

I have to admit that most Novembers in this town are rainy cold and grey, but today I went out for a walk in only a light cotton jacket, and went down by the water, as you can see from the photo.

Shortly after I took this, I sat on one of those benches and nursed my daughter for twenty minutes, the weather felt merely pleasantly warm without a breeze. Glorious. And very good for the soul.

It almost makes the house prices worth it.

No. Wait. It doesn't.

Sh*t

Life seems so .... Agh sometimes, you know? These days we have financial concerns .... Nothing insurmountable but a worry nonetheless. News of budget cuts at work. And layoffs, but not in my department ... Yet.
An email from me to someone I thought was an old friend about a new job opportunity who hasn't replied. A neighbour's complaints about our now outdoor cat.

But we are healthy and loved and the kids are happy ... Maybe I'll concentrate on my blessings and put love out into the universe instead of being morose. If nothing else it will get my mind off things I cannot change.