Croup

I think we've been infected...

The term croup does not refer to a single illness, but rather a group of conditions involving inflammation of the upper airway that leads to a cough that sounds like a bark, particularly when a child is crying. (KidsHealth.org)

Boo.

xxoo.S

Back to old routines

Maddie's reluctance to attend daycare has vanished. This morning there was no fighting, no screaming, no "Noooooooooooooo" as I put on her jacket.

This morning made me feel a lot less guilty. Thankgod. And I found out when I dropped her off, that they were planning on going to the zoo. Which, cool. I think Maddie will enjoy it. It's a gorgeous day, and to be honest, I'm a little jealous...

The weekend weather forecast looks to be shitty. What a shocker. Long weekend = shitty weather. Thanks Mother Nature. Love you too...

Regardless - we have a list of to-do's to get done. The in-laws will be up visiting, so we should be able to be pretty productive. And if we actually get around to planting our veggie garden I'll take pics and let you know how beauuuuuuutiful it looks.

Have a great weekend - enjoy

Preferential treatment

Maddie loves her Daddy.

This is awesome, and I love watching the close, loving relationship they are developing.

But it makes me a little sad how she now refuses (REFUSES) to let me do or help or take part in half the things that he does.

Daddy does bathtime, Daddy does storytime, Daddy does playtime. Daddy does pretty much any and all fun things that Mommy used to do. 

I know (because I am an obsessive Googler) that this is just a stage, and that it happens all the time. One parent gets preferential treatment over the other. A few months ago, nothing Daddy did was right and it was Mommy she cried for. And now it's his turn.

And that's cool, right?

It is. I swear - I'm happy with it. But without sounding like a child myself, I do feel a teeny-tiny, little itsy bit of jealousy (just a smidge, I swear!).

Maybe because it was 18 months of her crying for me. That Mommy was always the best one to chase away the tears. I got used to it. I was the one that slept with the monitor on my side of the bed. I was the one that jumped up to her cries. Iwas the one the learned to cook with a baby on my hip. I was the one who became a pro laundrer with a toddler wrapped around my ankles.

She did everything with me and I did everything with her - and as slow and difficult that made things, I figured it out.

And now (again - disclaimer - I don't want to sound like a child, but I do want to be honest) it feels a bit, I don't know... rejecting... when she could give a care if I was in the room or not.

I still do the wake ups and the daycare pick ups and the etc etc etc. But the minute Daddy walks through the door, the sun rises, or sets. Or whatever that analogy is...

Wow, I really do sound a bit like a petulant child. Huh... 

I guess you figure it out as you go along, and I could be all big and act like I don't care - but the truth is. It hurts. A little bit.

But do I envy and admire the little Daddy's Girl my Miss Button is becoming? 

And do I chuckle a little to myself every day as I see just how wrapped around her pudgy little finger she can make her Daddy?

Abso-flippin'-lutely.

xxoo.S

Simon's adventure

Kind of a wacky story, but since our cats are part of our family, I figure they deserve some real estate on the blog too...

Our one cat (the one that is fat and loveable and as big as a racoon) loves going outside. Except he's an indoor cat. Not declawed or anything, but has been living indoors for 10 years, and I highly doubt any of his survival skills have lasted from when he was a garbage-eating street cat (before he was a year old and we adopted him). In a nutshell, while we let him roam the backyard fairly freely, we keep the gate closed and make sure he's inside when we go to bed.

Except he likes to sneak out. Behind you. When you open the front door and are distracted by a screaming toddler that wants to be 'SIDE!!!!!! with Daddy. (I think I posted about her obsession with outside just a few days ago.)

So last night, around 11:30pm, I was packing up and getting ready to go to bed. When I realized I hadn't seen Simon in forever. Like, can't remember when I saw him last. 

I searched the house.  No cat.

I searched the backyard. No cat.

I went upstairs and woke up the Hubby, because, seriously? I'm not sure I want to be wandering the streets in my pjs at midnight without anyone knowing where I am, regardless of how safe our little boondock village is. (And honestly, no damn way is he getting away with sleeping through this while I am up to all hours, right?)

So now we're both walking up and down our street. In our pj's. Softly calling for Simon (because you don't exactly want to be shouting at midnight, right?).

Finally, I hear a muffled meow.

I track it down to our neighbour's backyard. And after a bit of flashlight scoping (where I'm sure the neighbour is going to come out and see what the hell is going on), we determine that Simon is not in fact, in any of the bushes in or around the garage that the meow'ing is coming from. In fact, the cat is in the garage (which is in the backyard - boondock house-design that I'm not a fan of personally).

So great. Our cat is in our neighbour's closed garage. And it's now 12:30am.

"F-him. He's the one that got himself into the mess", offers Hubby.

And at the risk of being judged here, by any animal lovers, yeah, I kind of agreed. Although our fault for not noticing our cat was outside, he's a bit of a dumbass to find himself locked in a neighbour's garage. And no way in hell am I knocking on anyone's door at that time of night. Especially since this is the neighbour with the nice lady and weirdo husband. (Doesn't everyone have a weirdo neighbour?). 

It was a can of worms I wasn't willing to open.

And I see the lady walking her children to school every morning. So I figure yeah, I'll just get him in the morning and teach him a lesson with having to stay in a cold garage overnight.

So that's what we did.  And the next morning, when I went outside to wait for the lady, around the same time that I run into her every OTHER day of the week, I see her car gone. She left early - in her car. Not a good sign.

Fast-forward 3 hours later. It's 10am. Still no sign of her. So I risk the weirdo husband and go and knock on the door. No answer.

At this point, I can conservatively estimate that Simon has been outside for 14 hours. And as annoyed as I am, even I can't start to worry, a bit...

So I do what any other respectful neighbour would do. I look around the garage to see if there's anyway to break in and get my cat.

Wow. That sentence sounds awful. But yeah, I guess that's what I did...

Anti-climatic ending? The side door to the garage was unlocked. Something I didn't even think to try last night.

I went in to the garage, found Simon sleeping on the lawnmower under a tarp (what? why? how is that comfortable??) and dragged his ass out of there.

He's dusty and hungry. But he's home.

Stupid cat.

xxoo.S

Twitter

I just don't get it. Maybe I'm missing something. Maybe I'm (sigh) too old. Maybe I'm just not witty enough and I'm not ready to admit it.

I get Facebook. I "got" it the moment I logged on. I got how addictive and time-sucking it could be, especially at the beginning. Looking up those old primary school friends and trolling through their kids' pictures. I even added "apps", took surveys, and sent gifts. And then the novelty wore off - and I removed most of my apps (bye Sex and the City "quote of the day"!) and gave up on trying to beat anyone in a game of scrabble.

But I'm still on Facebook daily - just to check in. Review friends' statuses, check out new pics. Um, that's about it. That's all I really do. But then again, that's what I liked it for in the first place.

Twitter - well, it's like a slutty Facebook. You can follow anyone - you don't need permission. And anyone can follow you. And people apparently have conversations. Umm, yeah, maybe I'm not connected to the right "people", but I don't see conversations happening. All I see are random comments about nothing and links to videos and other articles, that to be honest? I don't have time to be reading. 

I don't get hash tags (#), I don't get re-tweeting (RT), and I don't get why the hell I should give a shit about Ashton Kutcher (@aplusk).

I dunno. At the risk of sounding 90, "I don't get what all the fuss is about." Maybe I don't know the "interesting" strangers that I should be following. Maybe I don't give a shit.

Yup - that's probably it.

So I've removed my "twitter update" from this blog. If you read this, you probably know me. And if you probably know me, then we're probably friends on Facebook. And if you don't, or we aren't. Well that's okay - you're not missing much. My status updates aren't that interesting. I promise...

xxoo.S

Gardening hell with a little shopping thrown in

I like owning a house. It's fun to sleep on a different floor from where I eat. And it's awesome to have an outside space to call my own. Other than a 6 foot by 2 foot balcony hovering somewhere at smog level.

But oh, how much harder this gardening is. Because when I lived in my little smog-level apt, I could throw a few begonias in a box, sprinkle some dirt and call it a day. They lived (sort of) throughout the summer, and the 5 minutes a day that I sat on that crowded little balcony, I enjoyed them.

Now that we have Miss 'SIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE (did that convey the essence of the whine in her voice when she wants to go outside?) we're outside all the time. And that's cool. Because that was one of the selling points Hubby used in his sales speech to get me up to the boondocks. Cue sales speak:

"You're always saying we never go outside and just enjoy ourselves. Now we'll be able to go outside every.single.day if you want to!"

And I did. I do. I like living outside in the warmer months, it's what I've always done and I get a little stir crazy if I'm stuck inside when the weather is gorgeous outside.

Except when you own a house, being outside and enjoying it means you have to make it look pretty. Otherwise you're just outside with constant reminders everywhere you look about how lazy you are, and damn, how nice is that neighbour's lawn?

And so, these past 5 days, while I was on holidays and Maddie was home and my mom was down visiting, that's what I did. I gardened. And I planted flowers. And I dug up flowers. And planted rhubarb. And mulched. And weeded. And and and...

My side garden with the new perennials is still looking pretty sad and forlorn. But the front and back gardens (which really? are just weird bushes that I don't know the names of and some wood chip - how can so little be so much work?) are looking pretty bloody fantastic. 

Oh, and the tip to mulching? Stamp it down after you put it down. So it sticks. Because otherwise it blows all over the neighbour's yard and you look like a jackass trying to clean it up. Just saying...

In other news, Mom and I bought out the Please Mum store during our shopping excursion. And then bought out Old Navy. And then went to Once Upon a Child to buy more - because you know, she needed more.

Hilariously, Maddie's name for my Mom is "Bucky". Where she got this from, I have no idea. But it makes me chuckle a little bit each time she says it. Because it's said in this loud (I-know-no-volume-control) child's voice that screeches the end into a question - like BUCK-YYYYYY????Fairly hilarious, must get it on video before that fades.

I love when family (or friends) visit and become amazed at how much Maddie has progressed since they last saw her. Even if it was only a week ago. 

Of course I'm like, I KNOW right, she's a flipping genius! But it is pretty amazing how much stuff they learn in such a short period of time. Like sentences. Last week she was just saying Mommy's car-car. Now she says, "all done", "no milk, Maddie juuuuuuiiiiceee - yesh yesh, please Maddie juice", and "snuggle-buggle". 

Okay, I realize the last one doesn't qualify as a sentence, but this is pretty much the cutest thing she says. We've been giving her snuggle-buggles at at bedtime for months and she now says it when she wants a cuddle. You could die from the cuteness of it all. DIE I tell you.

And lastly, she reads along with her books now. "Moo Baa La la la" to be specific. She makes all the sounds the animals make. Another must for that video machine that I let gather dust far too much. You'll see this and your heart will melt.

Um - okay, a gardening/weekend update post has morphed into proud-mommy-dearest-hell. And we're through here...

xxoo.S

Vacay over

Don't you hate that melancholy feeling that you get when vacation is over? I took the last 3 days of the week off and spent it with my mom and Miss Maddie, and while it was relaxing, invigorating, productive and all that fun-stuff, like any vacay, it was far too short. 

Only 3 days I know. That's what makes it kinda funny to me. That I could get so sad about such a short vacay being over.

And doing the drop off to daycare was a bit heartbreaking. Not that she made a fuss, but Maddie was definitely feeling a little melancholy about returning to the routine as well. 

I don't feel guilty, I know she'll have a fun day. But I know exactly how she was feeling. We were both feeling it. We'd rather be home, with each other, right now...

Aaaaannnnndddddd...... back to work...

xxoo.S

PS - update post from the week off to come soon, just needed to get that out of my system first.

Maddie stats - revised

**After reading the comments, I had to go back to the little paper that the nurse gave me with Miss Button's stats, as I was starting to question it myself.  Turns out I did put the wrong stats in, she isn't 28 inches, she's 30.5 inches long.  Whew, feel a bit better now.  Entered 71.5cm in the conversion chart instead of 77.5cm.

==========================================

Maddie had a doctor's appointment today.  You know, the one where she was getting her 15 month shots (at 19 months)?

That was fun - explaining why we were so "tardy" to the doctor (her words, not mine).

Anyways - the fun stuff was checking all the "yes's" on the 18 month developmental checklist - because you know, my daughter, she's a GENIUS!!! 

• Does she follow simple instructions?  I'm like, hell yes!  She'll even follow mildly difficult instructions, send random emails from my blackberry, crank call relatives long distance and erase PVR'd programs.  GENIUS I tell you.
  
• Can she run?  I actually asked for clarification on this one - like, does it count if she falls a lot, but tries to run?  Because that's my girl - she may not have a lot of coordination, but she's a TRIER.
  
• Can she speak 5 words or more (words may not be easily understood).  Dude?!?  She can speak HUNDREDS of not-easily-understood words.  We were calling it gibberish, but if you will call it vocabulary - well, that's cool too...
  
• Does she give affection to people, pets or objects?  Does herself, in the mirror, count?  Because I don't think I've met a person who loves themselves more.  Narcissus, Madeleine.  You say po-tay-toe, I say po-tah-toe...

In all seriousness, she passed it all, she got weighed (on the BIG GIRL SCALE - I was like, dude, you won't be so excited about stepping on a scale in 20 years, but for now, yay!), and she got measured.  She's 23 pounds and 28+ inches.  25% percentile.  My tiny little Miss Button...

xxoo.S

World's Worst Parents

A bit dramatic, but I'm still mortified about this...

And because who DOESN'T want to memorialize mortifying parenting moments, let's just post it here, shall we?

Tuesday afternoon - I'm still at work, at the office, downtown Toronto.  It's 5:27pm.  There is no way I am leaving for at least another hour.  So I call the hubby to let him know I won't be home in time for dinner - go ahead and eat without me.

Because he's doing the pick up, right?

"Ummm - I'm at Martin Grove (that's Etobicoke hood for you non-GTA-ers - REALLY far away from where we live).  Where are you?" he asks.

My answer was a whole lot of @$%#&* because I realized in that split second that it took him to utter those words, we were both really, really, REALLY far away from our daughter, in daycare, in Brooklin.

So yeah, we screwed up.  He thought I was doing the pickup.  I thought he was.  Maddie's sitting at daycare (in my guilty imagination), lonely and wondering where her deadbeat parents are.

It's now 5:33pm.  We're already 3 minutes late.

"You need to FIGURE THIS OUT." and I hang up.  Because you know, I'm calm, cool and collected like that.

As I'm calling the daycare to out myself as possibly the worst parent on the planet...and throw myself at their feet to beg their forgiveness...Hubby calls me back.  

"BFF is going to do the pick up.  Maddie can fit in their infant car seat for the ride home."

Side note: this actually wasn't as illegal it sounds - she's REALLY tiny, and they have one of those massive infant seats that is made for Swedish people (haha - that's my own private joke, as Ikea makes some oversized furniture and I always think it must be because Swedes are larger... and not so funny as I type it out...).

So I call the daycare and let them know the plans.  And still beg their forgiveness.  In case they want to judge me.  Or think badly of me.  Or just wonder what kind of airhead parents we are, anyways, that we forget our kid at daycare.

Maddie was home and happy and all was safe and sound within 15 minutes.

Thanks BFF!  And um, sorry Maddie.  We won't forget you again...

xxoo.S

T-minus 8 hours...

...until I am officially on vacay.  Which is making these past two days a complete nightmare for work (cramming 5 days into 2 is tough, regardless).  And I know that while I'm off, I will still be working.  But isn't it delicious to know you don't have to.  You don't have to be answering emails.  You don't have to be checking things off your "list".

I'm not doing anything exciting - some errands, getting Maddie's shots, gardening.  You know - vacation-y stuff that you do when you don't actually go anywhere.

My mom is coming to visit and I hope we get lucky with weather, so we can spend as much time outside as possible.  Have a good week my bloggy peeps!

xxoo.S

Maddie milestone

This weekend Maddie and I were on our own, as Seth was off to a friend's cottage for opening of Pickerel season. Which meant... girls weekend! Woo hoo!  

We kicked it off Saturday morning by going to the mall. Because who better to shop for a bathing suit with, than your 19-month-old daughter? I think I tried on, like, 10,000 suits. And finally found one that would a) not ride up my bum crack constantly and b) fight Maddie's advances to publicly flash me again.  

After buying the dreaded bathing suit (ps, Sears?  I haven't shopped you in a while, and now I remember why...) we headed into the actual mall to pick up some CDs for Mommy and a frozen yogurt for Maddie. All was going well - Maddie was SUPER AWESOME the whole time. I love how well-behaved she is when shopping, and part of me believes the whole reason she is so awesome at the mall is because of all the times I took her out when she was only a millisecond old, as I was going stir-crazy in the house, and decided she needed to learn what the outdoors (and by outdoors, I mean inside the mall) looked like.

However, this weekend, I learned, by teaching her a love of the shops, I've created a monster.

Picture this - it's 11:30 and we need to head home to do the lunch thing, so she can do the nap thing, so I can do the housework thing. We stroll back to Sears, where I had parked initially. Take the elevator down to the bottom floor, and get out right next to the garden section. Decor for your garden, to be specific.

All of a sudden Maddie is twisting and reaching and squirming and repeating, "Pwetty, pwetty, pwetty, PWETTTTTYYYYYYY!!!!!!"

I look in the direction of all her kerfuffle, and see the ugliest ornamental crane/bird/creature made out of hammered tin. Um.....kay.

"You like the birdie, Maddie?" I ask, trying to stifle my urge to be like, DUDE, this is the ugliest godawful thing in the entire world and whatthehelliswrongwithyourtaste???

"YESH! Yesh. Pwetty. Tweet-tweet."

Right. So over we stroll. To the ugly bird-creature. Which I then see, costs $45. FORTY FIVE DOLLARS. Seriously? Um......kay. Time to do some redirection...

"Well that is an interesting looking bird, Maddie. And look at this - pretty butterfly, with all the crystals, and legitimate-prettiness..."

That worked. It got her mind off the bird. And she admired the butterfly (one of those cast-iron dealios that sit on a stick and bounce in your garden). It was pretty. It had crystals. She touched those a bit.

And then I decided it was time to leave.

"NOOOOOOOOOO. Pwetty! Maddie's pwetty. Maddie's. Maddie's. Mineminemineminemine PWWEEEETTTTTYYYYYYYYY!"

Redirection turns into a monster.  

I pick up the butterfly. It's only $12. Game. Check. Match.

And that is how Maddie hit her "Manipulate Mommy into buying me something at the store" milestone this weekend.

xxoo.S  

Waiting for the delivery

Check out my first Etsy purchase!  

They are crayon figurines.  In adorable kitty shapes!  I first saw them posted on babygadget, and my train of thought went something like this...

Maddie loves kitties...

Maddie loves crayons...

Maddie would love these!

So I linked through to KittyBabyLove's Etsy Shop and purchased a set of my own.  I'm quite excited about them.  

We had bought those Crayola ones that are specifically for toddlers - for the "palm grasp".  Except they still have a tip on them, and so when she just smashes the crayon around, she barely makes a mark.  These seem to apply the same concept, but since it's ALL crayon, it will make much more of a mark (let's just hope they're washable).

They should be here soon.  I'll let you know how they work...

xxoo.S

So over it

Teething.  I'm done.  It's kicked my ass since she was 3 months old.  

For the past 15 months, it's been a pile of bibs, drool, cold washcloths, teethers, hard plastic nig-nobs, frozen pieces of fruit, random pieces of metal (like my keys), small electronic devices (like my phone), teething tabs, baby tylenol and diaper rashes.

And the temper.  Oh the temper.

She has no tolerance for pain, clearly.  Or these are the sharpest, hardest, most painful teeth any human has ever had to endure.

On the days (weeks) that she's hardcore teething, we deal with a kid who's whiny. Who doesn't sleep. Who hates every and all food set in front of her. Who can't imagine the injustice of not having her binky in her mouth. AT. ALL. TIMES. 

And I have I mentioned the temper?

Hubby is going away for a fishing weekend, and with work being what it is right now, and this teething stage... they'll both be lucky if I don't run away and join the circus by Sunday...

xxoo.S

The daily face we see at mealtime...

Finding a family doctor - part 1

I titled this post with a Part 1, because I expect this will be a multi-step, frustrating-as-all-hell, process for our family.

Way back when, before we moved to the boonies, both hubby and I had family doctors that we both liked, in the city.  Like minutes from our doorstep.  

Lots of people had asked me if I was changing doctors/hospitals etc, when I moved.  Since I only had one month to go pregnancy-wise, I figured, nah, I'll just keep the same doctor for the time-being.  And that worked.  It worked for delivery (loved Mt Sinai).  And it worked for after-care (in my transition up the boondocks, it was a very nice excuse to get into the "city" when I had to take Maddie in for her well-baby checkups).

And then I went back to work.  And uh, a doctor all the way in downtown Toronto became a little less-than-convenient.  Hence, Maddie turning 19-months and still needing her 15-month shots...

Now, to be perfectly honest, I did find a new family doctor up here.  At the medical centre that is around the corner from our house.  I found her a long time ago actually, just a few months after Maddie was born.

And I hate her.

Sorry, I mean...

I HATE her.

H.A.T.E.

My first appointment with her was more of an "interview" of sorts.  Her interviewing us, I was told.  To determine if she wanted us to become part of her patient roster.  To get this interview, we had to wait over a month for an appointment to open up.  And then, on the day of the appointment, wait another hour in the waiting room.

For a five-minute interview.

We went over our history, she not-so-much listened, as she nodded her head in anticipation of everything I said, in a way that I felt, was saying, Lady, get ON with it.  And so I did.  I spoke as fast and as concisely as humanly possible.

I mean, it's only my NEWBORN CHILD, right?  Why shouldn't I just gloss over random things like my ALLERGY HISTORY and other inconsequential stuff?

So that was experience #1.  

Experience #2 was about 4 weeks later.  Maddie had woken up to nurse in the middle of the night and I noticed her eye was completely crusted closed.  Gross, right?  

So I called the doctor for an appointment.  Nothing available for WEEKS.  But luckily they host an after-hours clinic for patients only, from 5-8pm every night.  Okay, that's cool.  I'm home with her, we can totally make it into the office right for 5.  And she's a baby right?  They won't make me wait?

We waited for an hour.

They gave us a prescription for some drops and that was that.  Not a terrible experience (except, you know, the whole waiting for an HOUR bit).  In fact the doctor we saw was nice, personable and concerned.  Of course, she wasn't OUR doctor - and after I asked, told me, no, we couldn't switch to her practice.  Apparently inter-office stealing of patients isn't viewed as acceptable practice behaviour...

By then, I had decided I'd still take Maddie to our downtown doctor for her shots and checkups, and just use this doctor's office for "walk-in" type appointments - only when absolutely necessary.

I know some friends who are in the healthcare field have exploding heads at the above sentence - let me just say.  I don't care.  Yes, I was double-dipping with 2 doctors, and I don't care.  I think it's important you feel comfortable with your doctor.  Just because they're hard to find, doesn't mean we still shouldn't be choosy, does it?

Anyways, long story short, we went  to the walk-in part of the clinic a few other times.  Waited for freaking ever, each time.  And then came experience #6.

This was when Maddie had her first ear infection.  We had actually managed to get an appointment in the afternoon that day at last minute, which was suprising and delighting all in itself.  And so we arrived, and waited.  And waited.  And an hour later, were finally beckoned.

To wait in the room for another 20 minutes. Awesome.

Finally, our Doctor comes in.  She asks me what's wrong.  I start to explain the symptoms, what we noticed first, how it's escalated..... and......

She walks out of the room.

I'm literally in mid-sentence.

So we sit.  And we wait.  And 10 (or 2, but felt like 10) minutes pass.

And she arrives back all nonchalant.

I don't effing think so...

Me: "Um, that's a little rude, don't you think?"

Dr: "What?"

Me: "Leaving the room while I'm in mid-sentence, telling you my daughter's symptoms."

Dr: "Oh, I had to go get this (the ear thermometer)."

Me: "That's fine.  But you don't leave in mid-sentence."

Dr: "But I was coming right back?"

Me: "Again, I get that you weren't disappearing forever. Off the face of the earth." My voice is escalating at this point, and anyone who knows me, knows that so far, I've kept it so much more together than I normally would. And internally, I'm shaking with rage. At this rude doctor I've tried to like. Tried to deal with. And will. Not. Anymore. 

Me again: "But whether you were coming right back or not, you shouldn't leave while someone is speaking.  I mean, I'm sorry, but that's just plain rude."

Dr: "Yeah yeah yeah, she has a fever and has been coughing.  You had already said that."

Me (voice in serious escalation mode): "NO.  I had NOT said she had been COUGHING.  I was SAYING that she was starting to pull at her throat, so maybe...."

Dr (cutting me off again): "Yeah yeah, so she has infection, probably just a cold."

Me: "Right.  Fine.  Just take her temperature then."

Dr: "Now you're the one being rude."

Me: HEAD EXPLOSION.

So that's that.  I have vowed never to set foot in that office again.  Hence our day-trip downtown next week to our old Doctor for Maddie's 15-month shots.  And why I'm conducting another search.  

Fun and games.

xxoo.S

Hello growth spurt

I'm still kind of flabbergasted at how quickly these little monkeys can grow.  Do they do it in their sleep?  How can we not notice until one day they are 2 inches taller?  Lackadaisical parenting perhaps?

Anyways - Maddie has been eating us out of house and home lately.  I mean, we literally, could not fill this child up.  We would just finally stop offering food when her belly would get so big and hard that you couldn't imagine another bite fitting in there.

And this morning?  She no longer fits half her pants.  Great news for my friend, who has a 1-year-old that we frequently lend out Maddie's clothes too.  She's got a big bin with her name on it now.  

But the weirdo thing?  The 18-24 month stuff is still super large.  Is there a secret in between size that I don't know about?  Or should do I just roll up the bottoms of the larger pants and deal with it?  Whatever, not a big deal...

The extra fun part that we're dealing with now is the LACK of appetite that Miss Thing. As in, she WILL NOT EAT. (Disclaimer: unless it's cherry tomatoes or strawberries - perhaps it's just all things red?)

All I can think to myself, is cool.  I was totally looking forward to the picky eating stage.  Awesome.

RAGING SARCASM...

xxoo.S

Maddie swims

xxoo.S

Our weekend in a nutshell

We watched the Wrestler. 

I gardened (a LOT). 

Seth cleaned (the ENTIRE house).

Maddie played in the backyard, in the house, at the park.

I got my ass kicked by pilates (again).

Two out of four meals were bbq'd.

Seth did swimming lessons with Maddie this week (as I still haven't found a non-cleavage/flasher bathing suit).

Maddie can now say, "bike", "ruff ruff" (what a dog says), "sky", and "ready" (as in, "ready, set, go!" on the slide).

Seth golfed, I didn't.

I napped on Sunday, Seth didn't.

Must be going through another growth spurt because Maddie couldn't eat enough or drink enough milk. Maybe she will get some wear out of all the 18-24 month summer clothes I bought her.

And my work week started with a round of golf.  Nice!

xxoo.S

Maddie's catepillar

Maddie's catepillar she made earlier this week at daycare.  

It's now residing on Daddy's desk at work.

xxoo.S

18 things

I'd been planning to post a commemorative note to Maddie for her 18 month birthday (? is it called a birthday when it's not a full year?). And um, here we are, 13 days late. Anywho, my post is a nod to the recently popular meme called 25 things. Except this is 18 things. About Maddie. Specifically Maddie at 18 months...

1. You are binkie-obsessed. I am going to be That Mom who needs to write into Ask Moxie to find out how to break her 8-year-old daughter of her binkie habit.
2. "NO!" is getting old. Quickly. I'm pretty sure the terrible twos are going to be terrifying if this is the lead up.
3. Not to say that you're not adorably cute and developing the best sense of humour. Because you are - and your belly laugh is AWESOME.  
4. I also like that you think I'm the funniest person in the whole world. Because I am, you know.
5. Your hair is just long enough for pigtails now. And you are friggin' CUTE in pigtails.
6. Your favourite food is cherry tomatoes. Followed by a close second of blackberries, broccolli and salmon.
7. You're still super tiny. Like 12-18 month clothes - not even close to growing out of those. 
8. I love that you are as obsessed with shoes as I am. I foresee a lot of fun shopping trips in our future.
9. My favourite time of the day is when you first wake up - you've always been such a morning person - even as a teeny tiny baby. Who did you get this from?
10. The kitty is old. Please stop sitting on him. He's not a chair.
11. You are starting to string together sentences. Possibly one of the cutest things when I pick you up from daycare is when you say "Mommy car-car" when I'm strapping you into your seat. Dude - you're smart!
12. I love the crafts you bring home from daycare. This week, you brought home an egg-carton catepillar. It now lives on Daddy's desk at work.
13. You're still obsessed with Loonette the Clown on Big Comfy Couch. I guess it's not Barney, so I can't really complain.
14. You love daycare. You love Annette ('Nette!) and all the kids and I love that you don't cry when I drop you off.
15. You love the park, but hate the sand. You think it's "dirty". I think that's hilarious, because you actually got this princess attitude from your Daddy, not me. 
16. We started swimming lessons last week, and you love the water. And the other kids. You are friendly and fearless and my heart swells with pride at how well you behave. But if you flash my boob to the public again, I'll dunk you.
17. Thank you for starting to sleep through the night again. Because, that? Was getting old quickly. And your Daddy and I are old. And in need of sleep. Lots of it, please.
18. Life with an 18-month old is awesome. Seriously. We are loving this stage and you are (relatively) cooperative, and understand a tonne and can say a lot, and just learning-absorbing-communicating at a level that makes me wonder why we couldn't have gotten here a lot sooner. Because this stage? Is fun. And cool. And we love you and we love life and everything rocks right now. And having said that, I know I've jinxed everything...

xxoo.S

Utensils part deux

Okay, so maybe I was expecting a bit too much from an 18 month old?  I don't know - seems every article I read on Baby Centre said a toddler should start using utensils by 16 months.

But, as an astute friend pointed out - using may actual refer to holding - as in, a toddler should start holding and understanding the general concept of utensils by 16 months.

Um, okay.  So apparently I'm a little too literal in my interpretation.

Thanks for the feedback though.  Good to know I'm not totally off.  And actually, she managed to scoop some mashed potatoes up tonight and bring the spoon to her mouth without flipping it over (because you know, turning the spoon upside down after filling it kinda defeats the purpose, and results in a pretty messy floor).  

So yay.  Milestone?  Not really.  But a small step towards non-caveman-esque eating.  Goooooo Maddie!

xxoo.S

Maddie swims and other stuff

We had our first swimming lesson this weekend - and even though it was crowded, and even though I could barely hear the instructor, and even though we were told they (our kids) should be able to blow bubbles and kick their arms and feet by now (HOW??  that was my question - how do I convey to an 18 MONTH OLD that she needs to stick her face in the water and blow?), we had a brilliant time.  Maddie couldn't stop smiling.  Even I had a good time - although must find new swimsuit ASAP as I flashed the entire pool at one point.  Fantastic-o.

In other news - we (and by we, I mean Seth) built the box for the veggie garden.  He made it out of 4x4 cedar posts.  That cost like, a bazillion dollars.  But now we don't have to feel guilty for using pressure-treated wood.  Like everyone else in the world uses for their garden.  Thanks internet, for telling us we would be poisoning our child if we used the much cheaper, much easier to find, pressure-treated mini-ties.

I planted the perennials plants at the side of the house.  And damn, they look sad.  Small and lonely and small.  Did I mention small?  Everyone (including my neighbour, who I chatted with for almost 20 whole minutes - yay to making friends!!!) tells me they will fill in like crazy and grow so well I will need to hack them down a bunch of times over the summer.

I am suspicious.  And a little pessimistic.  Did I mention they look really really small right now?

Oh, and we have ants.  Lots and lots and lots of ants in that side garden.  One of the bloody bastards bit me while I was gardening.  BIT ME.  ?!!??!?!  Do ants bite?  Apparently they do.

So I went all internet on their asses and have been looking up "non-toxic, garden-friendly, family-friendly, pet and child-friendly" ways in which to KILL THEM.  Apparently ants hate cumin, cinnamon, vinegar, coffee grinds and human urine.  Ha.  That's right.  Some people piss on their ants to get rid of them.  I will not be doing that.  But good to know that urine can be used for more things than just jellyfish stings.

You can also buy diatomaceous earth (crushed up crustaceans), which kills the ants by shredding their exoskeleton and then they dehydrate.  Harsh, non?  Or you can buy borax - which is really sodium borate - not harmful to animals, slightly less harsh than table salt, but apparently a very efficient incesticide.

Or I buy some ant traps.  You know those cheap, round, easy to use and oh so effective little trap killers?  Yeah, may be the easiest thing, since the garden is at the side of the house - safe from where Maddie is ever going to be playing.

Now that you're completely educated on the thousand ways to kill an ant, what else can I share? 

We hit up a dual-bday party for some crazy one year olds (hi Isla and hi Alex!!).  It was good times - we ate mac & cheese, played in the ball pit, and chit-chatted with friends.  Maddie had fun too.  I would share pics, but it appears we have lost our camera for the time being.  And by lost, I mean misplaced somewhere in the cyclone that is our house at the moment (why does yardwork = nightmare mess inside?).

Soooooo - it's Monday.  Boo Monday.  I should get back to work.  And so should you...

xxoo.S

Utensils?

So when the hell are we supposed to expect a toddler to use their utensils?  Should I still be feeding her yogurt with a spoon, or should I just give it to her and let her go to town?  Because, yeah, if that's the case, we need to rework our whole morning routine because she will be eating NEKKID.

We give her a spoon or fork every night, and no longer just put her food on the highchair tray (for some reason that offends her now).  But she can't really seem to master the whole, scoop up the food and get it in your mouth, thing.

Something I should work harder with her on?  Or just keep giving her the fork/spoon and eventually she'll get it.  To be honest - it just makes mealtime sooooooo much longer.  And then she gets annoyed and just eats with her hands again anyways.  Or stops eating altogether.  Because really, an hour at dinner?  I'd be annoyed too.

So - question to the peanut gallery... what did you do?  Is it something to even really be bothered about?

xxoo.S

Last weekend in pics

We've found a candy that Maddie will eat... Smarties!

Maddie playing around with the baby (doll) stroller that I used to play with as a kid.

Swing!

Reading all about the mitre saw Seth got for his birthday.  Hilarious to see Maddie get right up there and pick up the warranty brochure and pretend to be reading it.

My gorgeous girl in her Easter dress... playing with her "pretties".

xxoo.S

My life right now - in bullets

• Every morning, just as I'm trying to round her up to get out the door for daycare, Maddie finds something all important to play with.  Right.That.Minute.  Some days I have the patience (and luck?) to cajole her away from the toy without any drama.  Other days (like today), I am that bad parent.  In fairness, I do try to convince her that playing with blocks isn't necessary Right.That.Minute.  And maybe she could put on her jacket and follow me out to the car.  But maybe I'm less patient.  Maybe she's more tenacious.  But we end up in a tug-a-war with the toy, and it ends in tears.  Sometimes tantrums.  But I try not to let myself get that way too much... ;)
• Aren't blackberry's supposed to be the time-saving, wonderful technology that makes our lives more efficient?  Why then, did I just spend an hour deleting duplicate entries in my calendar, only to synch with my comp and find that I just deleted my whole life in appointments.  Seriously.  I'm not kidding.  I did a restore to a recent backup, but there are appointments and things that have been lost forever.  SO annoying.  And ps? Screw you RIM.
• I'm so excited that spring seems to be here (knock on wood) for good.  I'm planting a garden this weekend people.  Planting.  A.  Garden.  I'm so domesticated I wouldn't be surprised if I also made lemonade and homemade cookies too.  Yeah, probably not.  But I'm planting!  Flowers!  And other shit that's supposed to come up year after year and that I won't really have to think about ever again!  Woo HOO.
• Maddie starts swimming lessons for REALS this weekend.  Apparently they like to book these lessons to start the week before they close down for Easter weekend, and since that previous weekend Maddie had an ear infection, this Sunday will be her VERY FIRST lesson.  I am less than excited to be putting on a bathing suit myself, but she will be looking supercute in her one-piece!
• I've booked myself a few days off at the beginning of May.  My mom will be coming up to visit and I've finally scheduled Maddie in with the doctor to get her (wait for it)... 15 month shots.  Um.  Right.  I guess we're going on the "modified" immunization schedule.  Not because I don't believe in it, but because I'm lazy.  
• I think we live in one of the most family-friendly suburbs in Ontario, which makes me think it should be super easy to find a babysitter right?  Like one of those teenage girls that loves kids and is looking to make some easy cash?  Someone who would make it possible for Seth and I to have a date night without requiring a family member to make an overnight trip... But see, I don't really chat with anyone in our neighbourhood except for my immediate neighbours.  And their daughters are 9 and 2.  A little young for babysitting.  And as much as I want to make friends with all those trendy, cool moms at the park - I am excrutiatingly shy and have no idea how to approach them.  Any suggestions?  Aside from getting my head out of my arse and just becoming more friendly?  Maybe there's a list somewhere... like at a school?  Maybe I'll start there...
• My bff L officially started her mat leave yesterday.  She emailed me at noon and told me she was still in her pyjamas.  I hated her a little bit right then.  And then that hate blossomed into a lovely, full-bodied jealousy.  Is it totally strange that 2.5 years ago I could barely imagine having one baby, much less two.  And now I wish that I was preggo with my bff and getting the 2 kid thing over with in 2 years?  Um - hello 30's.  Change much?  Why, yes, yes, we do in fact...

Yup - I think that's it.  Looking forward to another quiet weekend spent around the house working on stuff outside and play play playing with Maddie.  Oh and Sunday is the joint bday party for Maddie's friends at MEGA Fun.  I hear it's really fun.  Mega.  Fun.

xxoo.S

Easter weekend

I have so many blog posts rattling around in my head, but can't seem to really get any down on paper (er, on keyboard...post...whadeva).  

So instead you get a post about our past weekend.  Easter weekend.  Maddie's second Easter weekend.

Last year I didn't get her anything.  Never was a big fan of Easter (maybe as a kid, but even then I didn't like chocolate all that much, yes you heard me right), so maybe that's why it didn't register as a "must-do" holiday on my radar.  But even so - it does seem like I was a bit of a Scrooge last year to not get her a single thing.  I'll be blogging about my theory on some of the why's a bit later.  In the meantime, we can just think I was a b*tch...

Anywho - this isn't about last year, it's about this year.  And this year, I was an awesome mom.  A mom that has been slowly stocking up for about a month.  For an 18-month old that has no flipping clue who this purported Easter bunny is, and why he's so exciting.  My hit rate on the gifts was about 50%...The playdoh in egg cups!  Not exciting.  The My Little Pony with bunny ears!  Couldn't care less.  The adorably soft little lamb!  Meh.  But the truck?  Or the bubbles?  Or the Smarties?  Oh yessir - they were a hit.

So that was Sunday morning.  And the resulting sugar high from the early-morning Smarties resulted in a late-morning crash nap for Miss Maddie that lasted until almost 1pm.  And the rest of the afternoon was spent on the couch watching the Masters.  Oh wait, that wasn't me... Right - and the rest of the afternoon was spent doing laundry, and sorting out goodwill clothes, and reorganizing closets, and avoiding nap-deprived-meltdowns.  Yeah, that's what we did.

The rest of the weekend before that is now just a bit of a blur.  Thurs night was supposed to be an exciting, fun date night in the city and we failed with a capital "F" to make it happen.  Friday we took advantage of the weather to break ground for our veggie garden.  Saturday Seth spent most of the day recovering from food poisoning, and I spent out at a babyshow + buying plants from the nursery.

That's it in a nutshell.  Very uneventful.  But relaxing.  And rejuvenating.  And just a nice family weekend.  

xxoo.S

Happy Easter from Maddie

xxoo.S

It must be frustrating

To be a toddler.  There's so much going on in their brains.  They understand a tonne, but can't verbalize it.

I reasoned with Maddie tonight.  I told her she had to finish her lasagne in order to get any more tomatoes (she would eat nothing but cherry tomatoes if we let her - don't worry, I realize it could be a lot worse).  We counted down the forkfulls together.  She got it, you know?

So if she can really understand that much, how frustrating must it be to not be able to make others understand you all the time.  And I can tell Maddie has so much to say.  In happy times, she's babbling away (NONstop - like seriously, we are so in trouble when she can speak).  In sad times and she's upset about something and can't get me to understand why.  Or in mad times.  To be honest, I usually know what she's mad about - but I'm sure it's frustrating to her when she's mad and wants to yell more directly at me.

So there I was, sitting there at the dinner table, kind of marvelling at it all.  Imagine the patience it must take.  It's kind of like someone coming to Canada that doesn't speak English.  You have to admire the patience it takes to keep trying, getting words wrong, having people shaking their heads at you, not understanding what you're saying, and you just keep at it.

Sorry for the ramble.  But kinda cool.  When you think about it.

xxoo.S

Weekend pics

Maddie & Simon fighting over Maddie's new chair.  Love how Si is all nonchalant, like, "Dude.  I'm totally not moving.  I'm old and I'm lazy and my commitment to lazing around kicks your attention span's ass.  Now move it along, young lady."

Maddie wears pigtails!  If any of you out there can resist my little girl in pigtails, I seriously contest your humanity.

This was Sunday.  Look!  Sun.  Sand.  Enjoyment.  Balmy compared to today.  Go away, Winter.

xxoo.S

Diagnosis

Another first for Maddie, but not a fun one.  Her first ear infection.

I guess it's kind of amazing that she's made it to 18 months without getting one yet - seems like everyone I know has gone through this at much a younger age.

Apparently her ears are only a bit red (although she SCREAMED when the doctor put the flashlight thingy in there), so the infection isn't severe.  But she's on antibiotics.  

So there you go.  We have our diagnosis and our medication.  I'm just praying for a good sleep for her tonight.

xxoo.S

Dead tired

Maddie celebrated her Grandparents' Vallier visit with a big case of s.i.c.k.  What has been a chesty cough on and off last week turned into a sucky, grumpy, fever-ish baby as of Saturday afternoon.  

Because she responded so well to the Tylenol each time and she was really chewing on her fingers, I kept thinking that perhaps the whole sickness could be chalked up to that last damn molar coming through.

Then she spent 4 hours awake last night.  Oh yes, from 10:30-2:30.  4 hours.  Awake.  Nothing worked.  Baby Tylenol.  Infant Motrin.  Orajel.  Warm bottle.  Cold bottle.  Cold compress.  Dancing in Mommy's arms.  Being rocked in Daddy's arms.  Lying in the bed with us.

Nothing worked.

I ended up letting her cry for a bit, hoping that if anything, it would tire her out to the point that she'd just fall asleep.

Nope.

And so I rocked.  And I sang.  And I cheated and turned the iPod on.  And I rubbed her back.  And I played with her hair.  And ohmygod does my back hurt from leaning over the crib.

She finally fell asleep and stayed that way until about 7am.  At which point she was feverish but happy.

More tylenol.  Some breakfast cajoling.  And lots and lots of JUICE!

She went to daycare this morning, but was starting to fever again when I called to check in, so I've picked her up - she's sleeping at the moment and we have a dr's appt at 3:15.  

I know this sounds bad, but I hope it's something.  As in something diagnosable and treatable.  As in - something that we can quantify and medicate.  As in something other than, "oh it's just a virus that needs to run it's course" because damn!  Bad timing with a week packed with work presentations and off-site meetings and downtown meetings and conference calls and, and, and...

Anyone have a spine I can borrow?

xxoo.S

Cheap cheap cheap!

In honour of all the cute, fuzzy, yellow chicks I've been seeing lately in the Easter-riffic advertising, I thought today's blog post should be dedicated to my secret persona.

I'm a cheap-ass-ho-motha@#(*$&!

Classy, right?  

To give you a bit of a background - one of my mom's favourite sayings while I was growing up was, "You have champagne tastes and a beer pocketbook."  I grew up with lots of hand-me-down clothes.  It wasn't strange to me that our house was filled with used furniture.  And we ate leftovers better than any family I've ever heard of.

I'm pretty sure I wasn't in love with the idea of hand-me-down clothes by the time I hit my pre-teens, but I can totally appreciate the concept now.  Kids grow, right?  Like, fast and stuff.  Which is why I continue to pledge my allegiance to the local Once Upon a Child - they rock my world and keep my kid un-nekkid.

And to be honest, as I was growing up, I don't remember even noticing that our furniture wasn't all-brand-new-all-the-time!  Or is this just a new phenomena in our materialistic-driven society?  

Regardless, I have really fond memories of working with my mom on refinishing lots of pieces of furniture.  Old dressers and end tables that we got gifted by friends or family members.  Using (what I'm sure was highly-toxic) paint remover and sanding and staining and varnishing.  It doesn't take talent, just an eye for detail and some elbow grease.  

I still have a few dressers in my house that are older than my grandmother, and that I can look at and remember finishing when I was like 11 years old.  (Whoa Mom, slave labour!)  One of these is actually ear-marked to be going through some more refinishing this summer, as part of the "spare bedroom overhaul" project that's residing in the back of my mind.

And leftovers?  Don't even get me started on this.  I don't mind leftovers.  In fact (even more so nowadays), I APPRECIATE leftovers.  Lots of things taste yummier after a few days in the fridge (chili - I 'm looking at you, here).  And the time-savings of eating already prepared food for dinner?  I'm like, in awe of appreciation when I can pull that kind of rabbit out of the hat.

But the hubby and several good friends often look at me sideways, like I'm a freaky depression-era reincarnation, when I mention the coolness of leftovers.  Wasters...

So what's the point of this rant?  Well, I was telling someone recently about my latest blog discovery, The Thrifty Chicks,  that I am currently obsessed with.  And this "someone" responded with, "Wow, you're a real Couponer now, aren't you?".  

First of all, I had to explain that reading about (or buying from) thrift stores has nothing to do with couponing.  And secondly, what the hell is wrong with coupons?

Apparently by Couponer, she meant that I go and on about deals here, and savings there, and you do this for that $, and garage sales and etc etc etc.  So it's a blanket concept.  You can be cheap and price match, or price compare or shop only sales - and you're labelled as a "Couponer".  Doesn't mean that you're obsessed only with coupons.  

Perhaps the politically incorrect term would be cheapskate?  Tightwad?

Whadeva.

I don't blame the economy, I think I've always been down with gooooood deals.  And if a struggling economy means stores are pushing sales and coupons, or it means lots of people are looking for extra $$$ and selling stuff (check out kijiji.ca for kids outdoor toys - WHY would you buy full price when you've got these options?) - well don't we all benefit?

And maybe it's because I am now a "Couponer", but there seems to be a huge resurgence towards old becoming new again.  I feel no shame in telling people about the great deals I got on things, that are in fact, second-hand.  Maybe you're a "Couponer" when you show pride in your frugality?

As I said.  Whadeva.  I am a Couponer.  Hear me roar (and $$$$ave)!

xxoo.S

I think her head grew

All of a sudden none of Maddie's hoodies fit her anymore.  Granted, she's worn most of these hoodies for months now.  But still, it's like she got up one morning and her head grew five sizes.

Dude.  I guess this means I have to go shopping now...

xxoo.S

Maddie dances

The weekend in bullets

• I got to spend Sat afternoon with girlfriends I haven't seen in a while - doing the lunch thing at Yonge/Eg.
• Daddy & Maddie spent the afternoon together, doing the park/outside thing - Seth got a few good vids that I'll get around to uploading at some point.
• Sat night was spent with good friends G&L, doing an early celebration for Seth's bday.  Steak, scallops, shrimp and ceasar salad - yum.
• Sunday was spent... um, not feeling well after the copious amounts of red wine imbibed the night before.  
• Oh, and Maddie spent lots more time with Daddy this weekend than usual (since I was either out of the house or very slow moving).  Which meant she was in a better than usual mood.  Daddy's girl [said with a grin]...

That's all.

xxoo.S

Spring Cleaning

Does anyone do this anymore?  I remember as a child, my mom was a Spring-Cleaning-Fanatic.  I was charged with washing baseboards, sorting and putting away my "winter" clothes, and washing windows every April.  

I haven't sorted out clothes by season in ages, but have always done a spring and fall muck through our wardrobes to do the Goodwill toss.  And as our drawers are getting difficult to close again, it would seem we're at this stage again.

But aside from the obvious (cleaning, sorting, organizing), I haven't really thought about what spring cleaning means now that we're homeowners (yes we were homeowners last year, but were a bit lost in the fog of having an under-one-year-old).

It's become glaringly obvious that our windows need washing.  And because we have wooden windowsills (that people keep telling me we're "lucky" to have now that vinyl is the standard - I continue to dispute that point), Seth has the lucky job this summer of sanding down the peeling paint and re-painting all the exteriors.

And the other day while sorting through some papers and whatnot, I rediscovered the "home guide" the previous homeowners had left for us.  Quite a handy guide actually, it gives you a checklist for each month of certain things to do... you know, change air filters, get ducts cleaned, routine checks on appliances - all SORTS of things that we have NOT been doing over the past 2 years of residence here.

So as the weather gets warmer and the to-do list is getting longer and longer and cluttering up my brain, my goal for this weekend is now to simply get a game-plan organized for us.  What we want to accomplish this summer - projects we think we can tackle, renos and repairs that need to be done and the fun seasonal things (like planting a vegetable garden!) that I really want to happen.

I expect we'll have far loftier expectations of things that can get done.  But I figure it's smart to get the hubby involved in the actual list creation, so maybe he'll feel ownership over getting some of the things done?  Yes?  Hopefully?  

We'll see...

xxoo.S

PS - any hints on starting a garden from scratch?  I'm planning on taking the shortcut of planting seedlings instead of just seeds.  But should I go rent a rototiller?  Or just digging up the ground will be enough?  And what's the best option for the "walls" of the garden?  I really have no idea.

Bring on the core strength!

I've decided that, while I'm not ready to ramp up the gym membership (no time, no energy, and did I mention, no time?), I've earned myself the right to sign up for A class. Just one. One little itty bitty class that hopefully will light the fire under my butt and get me more interested in getting back in shape.

Or at least stop my hip from aching like I'm 78 years old when I get up from sitting on the floor with Maddie...

So I've signed up for a local Pilates class. I'm quite stoked about it (can I be 33 and use the word "stoked"?)... It will be Sat mornings (or Wed evening - depending on which class fills up to when she decides to hold it) and just around the corner from my house.

To celebrate, I will be purchasing a yoga mat this weekend at Fitness Depot - who, incidentally, is having a Women's Weekend event on Saturday and Sunday. Free seminars, contests + stuff for women!

xxoo.S

Sentimental

I've been feeling super-sentimental lately, and I don't know what's bringing it all on (no, Grandmamas - I'm NOT pregnant, so quit getting excited). Is it that all of a sudden our little bean is no longer a baby anymore? That's she's a chatty, busy little toddler? A whole entire other person with opinions and personality and did I mention, opinions?

Or is the whole, "should we have another kid? If yes, when? If no, why not?" discussion starting to leak out of my head and more into my heart. Making me pine for the baby-moments again. I caught myself watching home videos of Maddie the other day and wishing I could go back to those early days of motherhood. When we weren't rushed all the time. When a busy day was filled with me getting to the grocery store AND getting some laundry done. It was only a year ago, but feels like decades to me - when things were much slower and far less stressful.

Maybe it's because I realize that regardless of whether we have another little one or not, I'll never have those days again. The "sleep when they sleep", cuddle on the couch and watch tv at 4am, knowing you can just make up the sleep later in the day. Because (from what I've heard), two kids are infinitely harder than just one. There would be no sleeping during the day whenever the baby sleeps, as a little Miss Button would be running around all over the place. And what about those "difficult" days? How do you keep your sanity with a grumpy toddler and a screaming baby? I seriously doubt my ability in keeping it together during such a time.

Oh I know I know, the benefits way outweigh the costs... but it just seems so hard, you know?

But then begs the question - how do you know when you should have another? I know there's no magical time for age distance. There's pros and cons... less than 2 years means you (likely) have to worry about two in diapers, but they will be close playmates, around 2.5 years means you (likely) only have to worry about diapers for the baby, but have to deal with a older child that doesn't nap so when the hell do you rest? And >3 years, will they even like each other, much less be close?

It really was so much easier when we were sure that we were just going to have one...

xxoo.S

Karma's a bitch

I used to snicker, roll eyes, do all sorts of juvenile things behind the backs of young parents (usually dads) that I worked with because they were aaaaalllllllllllways sick.

Well, Karma always knows just how to bite you in the ass, doesn't she?  

Yup - I'm sick again.  And Maddie woke up a few times last night for no apparent reason (other than, as I suspect, she felt crappy and wanted to be cuddled a bit).

Bleh.

xxoo.S

March break hiatus

Our new daycare was on hiatus over March break, which meant we had to line up the Grandmama's for some babysitting duties.  Seth's mom came up from Sun to Wed, and my Mom came up from Wed to Sun.  It was a full house, let me tell you!

Luckily for Grandma V, the weather was gorgeous at the beginning of the week, so she and Maddie spent a lot of time at the park - which Maddie loved as well.  Maddie now goes down the slides on her own with ease (as long as someone's there to catch her at the bottom) - now we just have to work on her climbing back up on her own now too.

The latter half of the week was not as warm, so in sympathy for my mom (because have YOU ever spent 12 hours in a house with a toddler that wants to go 'side, 'side, 'side??), I took them both to the indoor play gym in Whitby on Friday morning.  Maddie was the most outgoing I've ever seen her there.  

I think any of my worries about her being the quiet, shy, wallflower that I was as a child are easing off.  This kid LOVES other kids and gets right in there to play.  In fact, it's funny as a (still secretly shy) parent to watch this, because I keep inwardly cringing, hoping the other kids won't reject her, that she's not being too overly-friendly, and her feelings won't get hurt etc etc etc, and HOLY PROJECTING, right?

On the weekend we visited my mom's aunt in a nearby nursing home and again, Maddie had her "charm" set on high.  She was chatty and smiley and couldn't stop staring at everyone.  It was almost embarrassing, except I saw how incredibly happy it made them, so I just let her go for it.  On a side note though?  It's hard to visit a place like this - it was my first time since highschool when we did a "adopt an old person" project or something like that.  Especially on a Saturday as you see the hopeful look in someone's eye that you could be there to visit them and I don't know - it just makes you feel guilty that you're not, and that perhaps you should stop and chat for a bit, but there's so many of them, and (see above) I'm not the most chatty, outgoing person in the world with strangers, so it's all just so awkward.  And sad.  And ugh, that's all I have to say about that.

Our Saturday afternoon was far more light-hearted - as we had friends stop by for a visit, with her 3.5 year old daughter.  I was worried that perhaps Maddie's toys would be too "junior" for her or that the girls wouldn't be able to play together because of the age difference.  Apparently I worried for nought - they had a blast chasing each other around and screeching.  

We topped the weekend off with a night out for Seth and I to drinks + a movie.  And here's another sidebar - what the HELL is with movies starting at 11pm these days.  Seriously - we either went to the 7:30/8:00 show.  Or we went to the 10:45(!!!!!!!) show.  Um, is there no happy medium?  Am I officially old now?  Who in the world is going to a 10:45 show?  Because if I'm going out for dinner and drinks, I'd be looped by 10:45.  No way I'd be able to sit and watch a movie.  What happened to the 9:00 showtimes?  Where did they go?  Because 9:00?  A LOT more convenient to have a few drinks and appys before the movies.  Hell, if you plan it right, you could actually fit dinner in nicely.  So instead, we had a quickie appetizer and a few pints at the nearby pub.  It was rushed - but even in the hour that we had prior to the movie, it was nice to just chat and be on a "date".  

Last few thoughts...

• A full week of Grandma help while daycare is on spring-break hiatus is MORE than welcome (as is the cooking of dinners every night before we got home from work!!!)
  
• The resulting spoiled little girl that pouts and gives me the death glare anytime I tell her to not do anything is not welcome.  Go away, please.  Now.
• Maddie peed in the potty again last night!  After peeing in 4 (FOUR!) separate spots on the carpet in the hallway.  Still, I was totally chuffed.
• We've won an inordinate amount of free coffees from Roll up the Rim.  Apparently that's why we never won anything before - all the winning cups are in Brooklin...

xxoo.S

I'm jealous

A good friend of mine is currently considering, seriously considering, not returning to work when her maternity leave ends.

And this isn't the first time a friend (or acquaintance, or random stranger in a bookstore) has told me about her thoughts on the topic. It happens a helluva lot more than I ever had thought it did.

When I was younger, cutting my teeth on the corporate ladder, I worked in a "boys club" and listened to coworkers talk about a woman on mat leave in the past tense. Past tense people. As if she's dead. Not just on leave - but never-to-return-again. And it was always a point of curiosity for me. Back then, I was in my mid-twenties. Waiting (im)patiently for a ring on my finger, but in no way feeling those maternal urges. So the thought of having kids was so far off my radar, the thought of not (gasp!) returning to work after mat leave was unfathomable. What do you mean, not return? Who do these women think they are, if not defined by their careers!?!

I was naive. But at least I was admittedly so. And I remember chit-chatting w/ the CFO about a recent co-worker who had gone on leave. "If so-and-so comes back, then we'll have to figure out x-y-z." ... I was like, hold up. What do you mean if she comes back. She's coming back. She's a VP. She's important. She likes her job. She's good at it. And she makes all that money!!!

And I remember so very clearly, how Mr. CFO looked at me with pity in his eyes, "I wouldn't just assume so-and-so is coming back - she probably won't. In fact, that's the assumption we're working on right now [as they make incredibly important departmental decisions]."

Sidebar: yes, I'm aware how HORRIBLY politically-incorrect it is for a CFO to chat w/ a subordinate about how another executive is probably not coming back, that the company is essentially planning on her not to return, and that it contravenes all sorts of legal and moral boundaries, yadda yadda yadda - I told you - it was a boy's club - and a loosey-goosey one at that.

Then I grew up (a bit). Got married. Turned 30. Started to hear the tick-tick-ticking of my biological clock and next thing you know, I'm knocked up.

Around that time, I had moved on and was now working at a girls-club instead - employee base of about 95% female with a few gay men thrown in for fun. So instead of talking behind my back and making assumptions, I was just asked outright - "So, are you coming back?"

I'm not kidding you. My boss, other executives, subordinates - it didn't matter who - they all felt like they could just ask me this. And again, I kept hearing, "Most women don't come back, you know."  I just scoffed it off - this was me.  I lurrrrrrve working.  I am a career-woman - hear me roar.

Fast-forward to the end of last summer and the final days of my mat leave. Where I was starting to feel that anxious, lead-hearted feeling of having to return to work. A return that needed to happen financially, but would also include a commute that would take me away from my baby girl for about 12 hours a day. Factor in her 11 hour sleep schedule, and that left me with about 1 hour of face-time each day.

It wasn't a good feeling. And so I started to explore my options... 1) Not returning (not an affordable option for our household). 2) Returning to existing job (aka "sucking it up"). 3) Returning to a different job.

#2 is what I opted for in the end (as option #3 was yielding zero possibilities). And in my discussion of exploring options for returning (I pitched work-from-home ideas, flex hours etc. etc. etc.), I eventually agreed to a consulting role in a sub-contract position.

Which then resulted in a different consulting gig, which resulted in a part-time gig at a different company (where I could work from home on flex hours), which has since resulted in a super-amazing promotion and increase to full-time commitment, but still having flex hours.

Long story short - I'm a lucky gal and it worked out well for me.  

But the experience has opened my eyes and I understand now how these women don't return.  Or they do, but in a different capacity.  Or sadly, they return and hate every minute of it.  I get how priorities shift - oh how priorities shift... That has been an experience for me - I figured I knew myself, and then whammo - my self changed.  

But I digress - this post wasn't about me.  It was about me marvelling that as much as things change, things still stay the same.  And while there's more women out in the work force than ever, how there's more dual-income families than ever ... it's still normal, okay, and in fact coveted* sometimes, to be a SAHM.  

And in a way, I'm totally jealous of my friend.  That she has the choice at all. 

xxoo.S

PS - what a rambling post, huh?  Sorry 'bout that.  I had more to say than I thought I did...

*Disclaimer for current employers should they decide to read this: This isn't me!  I don't covet it.  I love my job.  I love working.  I don't want to be a SAHM.  I promise!  It's the truth - I swear!

Happy St Patrick's Day from Maddie!

xxoo.S