Getting back to normal ?

We had a fabulous trip home to Halifax and managed to squeeze quite a bit into four days. I love my hometown, there's just something about the 'fax' that makes me feel centred and ready to deal with anything, do anything, or accomplish anything I want to. I never feel more like 'me' than when I'm home. More than 11 years away from Halifax and it is still 'home,' probably always will be.

It seems that Nate is a pretty terrific traveller, he managed to nap fairly well just about anywhere, enjoy the variety of people and places we threw in front of him, and was pretty great with the crowds of people that were always wanting to hang out with him. He was a perfect lamb on the plane on the way there but was a bit cranky on the way back. I think it all just caught up with the little bubba. Nate's Ginn side grandparents were overjoyed to be spending time with him, and his Chin side grandparents loved talking about all the wonderful things they have discovered about him. Mama just enjoyed the ride for the most part and ate a lot of haddock.

One casaulty of the trip to Halifax has been Nate's sleeping patterns--they are screwed beyond belief. He now won't nap for more than 40 mins at a time, and wakes up every 1-3 hours at night. I know the teething has a lot to do with it, but he seems to want to go to bed at his Halifax time, which is four hours earlier than his Vancouver time. This would be fine except he wants to GET UP at his Halifax time as well (not nice for us, pefectly acceptable to him).

This is the third day back and I still have open suitcases on the floor and laundry to be put away. In the good old pre-Nate days I would have been unpacked an hour after I got home and the house would be freshly cleaned the next day, now I'm lucky to have laundry done two days later and maybe it will get put away this week. I'm not sure whether I should mourn my old efficiency or celebrate my new not-so-compulsiveness.

I am sad about leaving Halifax though. It was too short a visit and I didn't get to hang with my Momma enough. Plus the going home always makes me consider and reconsider and then ponder moving back. I look around and think about all the advantages of raising Nate there, like the house with a yard that we could afford without difficulty, good access to french immersion schools, safer than Vancouver parks, grandparents in the same city, and cousins to play with. I think it would be great to have my folks in the same city. I grew up with my grandmother around and I can't immagine living my life without the closeness we shared. I'm just not sure whether Justin and I are ready to let go Vancouver and it's particular kind of urban living yet.

Nate is growing and developing so fast. He has almost prefected this weird half crawling thing, except he does it backwards! His balance is getting much better when you try to sit him up on his own (he is less likely to fall forward on his big old head), and he is adept at intentionally grabbing things and sometimes adept at manipulating them. I am completely in love with this kid, and watching him figure stuff out blows my mind.

There's a meeting tonight of all the owners in our strata. Instead of going and being frustrated and trying to deal with the crazy guy (every complex has one) and and all the myriad agendas of the owners in our lovely complex (24 units in all) I'm going to sit on my ass and eat chips (or bon bons or cupcakes--you get the idea). I normally go and try to do my best to contribute to the discussions but the past couple of years of listing to the carping and having to deal with the crap and the slowness of getting things done etc. has worn me down. So I say go ahead without me and the sugar shall be mine!

Back!

Here's a little look at part of our trip home. Nate's first swim. Justin has posted lots more at Flickr. More later!

Coast to coast

We are off tomorrow to Halifax to visit our folks, more specifically so that Justin's folks can spend time with our folks and they all can talk about how Nate is the smartest, cutest, most incredible baby in the entire universe and how he will no doubt rule the world one day (except for the ruling the world these are pretty much verbatim statements from both sets of grandparents).

I realised last night (while I was in bed worrying about all the things I will forget to bring for Nate) that Nate will have travelled more in his first six months of life than I will have in my entire first seventeen years. Probably by the time he is a year old he will be an international traveller, which I didn't manage to accomplish until I was about twenty five or so. I am way more adventurous than my family about travelling, and probably Nate will be far better travelled than his momma. Justin had been all around Europe before he was twelve I think.

So far Nate has been a dream to travel with and seems to be a pretty happy dude no mattter where he be, so I am keeping my fingers crossed that the teething won't be to terrible for him.

Part of me wishes he was a little older cause there are lots of things I'd like to do with him in Halifax. But really I know that there is no rush and lots of time to come for visiting home (what I still consider to be home despite all these years in Vancouver).

It is a very short four day trip, but I'm really looking forward to it.

Off to pack.

Nate's newest friend

We have named him Jacques. He is the cutest little dude to grace Nate's crib since, well, Nate. Many thanks to Lori, superartist and supermom for making him. We are so touched and tickled to have the twin to Sosi's own deizen of the deep.

Yippee!!!!!!

Yay! It came this morning! See how shiny and pretty it is? The only thing that really matters is that it will keep things cold. It's been a really hard week round this house, with four adults and a baby trying to live out of a tiny cooler. Just to make things more interesting, it has been between 30 and 36 degrees celsius the past few days. A teething baby, a heat wave and no fridge really sucks.

Poor little bubba, he's a trooper. He is doing his best under what are clearly terrible circumstances beyond his control. His napping is shot to hell cause it's too hot for him to sleep long. He's also been getting us up the past few nights many many times between 1am and 5am wanting to be comforted. This teething thing is making him so uncomfortable my heart really goes out to him. The jolly jumper is saving our asses at the moment 'cause it makes him really really happy.

It's damn hot. I know some of y'all live in places that are way hotter than here right now and my sympathies are with you, but I must still bitch and complain about how hot it be.

Phew

Nate got his four month shots (a leeeetle bit late) this afternoon and much to our surprise was pretty damn good about it all, calming down after a pretty brief time, some boob and some Tylenol. Last time his leg swelled up to double the size and turned a purplish red, hence the just-in-case Tylenol.

This time he actually went pretty much straight to sleep after his nap and boob and slept in his stroller through a nice lunch out at Burgoo (thanks little dude, you sure know how to make a momma happy). I had beef bourguignon and a chicken ceasar sandwich and Justin had a jerk chicken pepperpot with a chorizo and chicken sandwich known as El Diablo. Burgoo is close to our GP's office and has the best assortment of comfort food in town.

We are still waiting for word on whether our refrigerator will be sent to us any time soon. Currently, we are living out of a couple of small coolers borrowed from our neighbours. We are also trying to make food before it goes off and we have to throw it out. Because of this, Snoopy had wild Sockeye salmon for midnight snacks last night while Justin and I had an entire bag of chicken and leek pot stickers. We are very lucky that we could shift some things into the deep freeze but we will still have to throw out a bunch of stupid things like mayonnaise, salad dressings, salad greens etc.

That reminds me, time to go and put more cold in the coolers.

Like camping indoors.

Look at my boy!

Whaddaya mean busted?

Our fridge go boom.

It no cold no more.

Very sad.

Off to the store to get a new one.

EEEEEKKKK! How much?

Just get a cheap one then.

(hours later)

OOOHHHHHHH, look at the pretty stainless steel one.

(smoking credit card)

PRETTY PRETTY PRETTY

The laundry fairy is never coming.

I guess I'd better get off my ass and do it already. Kids generate lots of laundry, things are drooled on (sometimes I just ignore this, let it dry and put it back on him), or puked on (tough to ignore) or rice cereal spat on (really gross), and then there is the pooed on (not going to even discuss it). Previously mentioned substances also end up on the clothes of every adult in the house and also the dog (who has no laundry -- thank you Snoopy). Laundry takes up a lot of my time.

On a completely unrelated note: Do you know what makes my ass so very tired? People out there in the world who don't look where they are going. These people are everywhere and are either so completely sure that the world will get out of their way (arrogant bastards), or so unconcerned for their personal safety that they just roam around willy nilly staring at their shoes or the sky or chatting with their sidewalk hogging friends (damn them all). If I were them I'd be really concerned about my personal safety when a very substantial woman is headed my way with a massive stroller and a murderous look in her eye. But they just la-la-la along as if they haven't a freakin care in the world. I am now perfecting the art of barely clipping people's feet with the wheels of the stroller enough to make them stumble a little withoug having to stop at all. When I see them stumble, or at least be forced to notice me trying to get by and give me a dirty look, my heart is siezed by a fierce and evil joy that warms me with a sharp satisfaction for a good part of the day. My other tactic is to just yell "excuse me" and juggernaut my way forward into the fray. There is a cold place in hell for these people along with:

• people who don't offer to give their seats up for pregnant women, the elderly or people with strollers on the bus
• people who stand in front of the doors of the sky train and don't let anyone pass even though the rest of the train is empty
• people who abandon small dependant animals
• people who run red lights
• other generally thoughtless folk who I reserve the right to bitch about later.

Now for the happy! Nate is practicing to crawl! He has this whole inchworm thing going on as his main method of propulsion right now. He can get his front up and his back up, but not at the same time yet (this causes him considerable frustration). For a long time now he's been pulling himself into a sitting and then standing position if you hold his hands for support, but other than the rolling around on the floor, he hasn't shown any lateral movement until the last couple of weeks.

We went to get family photos with Justin's parents yesterday, and we had the hardest time getting him to smile. Usually you just have to look at him to get a grin, but not yesterday. Yesterday he was all serious and stuff. Go figure. Still, I think they will be okay in that cheese-like family photo way.

Now for laundry.

Well hello there!

Gimme that

Negative Nelly

So I was reading my own blog yesterday (I don't reccomend it) and I realised that I have been sounding kind of negative lately. Now I am a negative sort, I'd like to think in a funny, amusing, not world crushing kind of way. But I wanted to post something nice as I sit here on my comfortable couch, latte in hand while my husband feeds Nate his rice cereal (the in-laws are in Whistler over night). This is a nice scene, Justin is singing country music to Nate while the dog looks on. He's hoping for any or all of many things to happen:

a) bits fall on the floor
b) Justin notices him and takes him for a walk
c) kibble falls from the sky

Snoopy must stop occasionally to sniff the wall this morning because I spilled an entire tub of salsa on the floor (boy does that stuff have an incredible splatter radius).

Anyhow, I wanted to say how much I'm loving my family, and especially being a mom. Not to sound too smarmy or fluffy or anything but I'm fast considering Nate the coolest thing I've ever done. Justin is the smartest thing and Nate the coolest.

Nate's favorite song is currently from Star Wars where they go into the cafe to hire Han Solo and the band is playing this catchy little tune. All you have to do to get a smile and a gurgle from him is to mimic this song. We are raising a sci-fi nerd (just like his parents).

Almost every moment with this kid is awesome, even the crappy stuff I'm vowing not sweat.

I wonder how long that vow will last.

I am not losing my mind. I am not losing my mind

Maybe I am.

Last night about 1:30am my son woke up with the most blood curdling shrieking/screaming I have ever heard in my entire life (I swear). Lately he has been waking up sounding like an air raid siren (which I've been getting used to). I have no idea what the hell this sounds like, it defies discription. First, I had just gone to bed about an hour and a half before (stupid STUPID girl) and must have immediately hit a very deep stage of sleep because I was sooo very confused. He didn't want to nurse, he didn't want to be calmed down, he just wanted to scream like we were killing him. Second (there must be a second, cause I said there was a first), I was still dreaming when I woke up and I couldn't figure out where I was (thought I was on an airplane and that Nate was screaming because of something that happened in my dream--also later I dreamed that humanity was wiped out by some kind of bio weapon and there were only like 10 people left in the world). Third, in all this trying to calm Nate down, he squirmed and kicked and I managed to injure my wrist so badly that I ended up almost in tears trying to hold on to him (this was the good wrist, the one not already in a splint). We still have no idea why he started shrieking nor why he stopped.

So I woke up this morning really cranky and grumpy and mad at the world. I was annoyed with everyone (except for Nate, oddly), spent a really huffy hour cleaning the kitchen grumbling all the while (why can't people wipe off counters?), and finally came upstairs and had a good freakin cry (one of those snotty, puffy not movie attractive at all kinds of crying jags).

Then I promptly packed up my partner and son and went shopping (Metrotown is having a sidewalk sale and there are lots of good deals on baby clothes).

Retail therapy is good.

Headline: "Woman saved from psychotic break by Old Navy monkey T-shirt."

A deal, a steal at $5.99.

Ma Bell hell.

*ring*

*ring*

Answer: Hello?

Me: It's me!

Answerer: How are you? How is Nate?

Me: Fine (or bitch bitch bitch)

Anwerer: So - (conversation ensues)

Me: (in middle of conversation) that's my baby crying....must go.

dial tone

I apologise to everyone who has had this conversation with me. I promise that some day we will finish one.

Until then I will keep trying.

I'm buying stock in Tylenol

It's been a not-so-nice couple of days, or nights I should say. Nate has gone into some fairly serious teething or pre teething or whatever. His copious drooling has assumed faucet-like proportions, and he is biting/gumming everything in site without much relief. He's been waking up every hour or so during the night wailing like a banshee and not having naps during the day. Yesterday I was so worn out I didn't even know my own name. I went to the doctor regarding my wrist situation (crappy news, more on tht later) and I asked her about it. She suggested giving him some Tylenol (as did Lori previously-you were so right girlfriend!). I had been holding off on the Tylenol cause I didn't want to over-medicate him and he seemed more uncomfortable than in pain. Me = wrong. We gave him some last night and got a blessed five or so hours sleep. We took him to bed with us for the rest and he was pretty okay. Most importantly, Nate seems to be able to cope better overall when he has had some sleep to go on (duh is me). Maybe I just needed that doctor approved go-ahead, which is so unlike me normally. Anyhow, this teething thing is a bitch in a whole cavalcade of bitch-like things to come. Of course the real kicker is that I feel so damn helpless when something is wrong with my kid and I can't do anything to make it better. I'm such a fixer. The learning experiences abound.

On the happy side, its perogy (perogie?) night at the local Ukranian church tonight and I'm soooooo looking forward to it. Oh, and I got an awesome trashy book that I've been hoarding my gift certificates for and I'm happily creeping through it a few pages at a time in guilty pleasure. It is jammed full of sex and violence and vampires and girl kicking ass and I absolutely adore it!

Also, I've got the newest Neko Case album, thanks to a friend who has a vested interest in keeping me somewhat sane. Life is good.

Yay!

Go east young man...

We were pretty much sure that our respective parents would never get to meet or spend much time together. In fact, we pretty much thought that the universe as we know it would cease to exist if that very thing were to happen. Don't get me wrong, we both love our own and each other's parents very much (I often accuse my parents of liking my partner more than they like me and the other way 'round), but we figured that his parents wouldn't really have much in common with my folks. I was initially thinking it would be like some kind of bizarre Asian/Caucasian version of Dharma and Greg. It isn't totally. It's more like working class, liberal small town white Canadian family meets upper-middle class, straight and narrow cosmopolitan Chinese family (you gotta admit, those are some seriously different epistomological foundations). We have never actually actively discouraged them from getting together as they live on oppisite sides of the planet, but we figured that that would neatly do the trick.

My folks had my brother and I in their early twenties, and my partner's had their kids in their late thirties.

My family - vacation at the beach. His family - vacation in Europe.

My family - helped me out with rent while I was in university. His family - paid for his university in another country.

My family - go with the flow. His family - dictates, creates, maintains and disciplines the flow.

My family - meat and potatoes. His family - spicy Malaysian-Indonesian-Chinese food with veggies my folks have never even heard of.

My family - be happy. His family, get a good job that will make you happy.

My family - loud, boisterous, tell you how it is. His family - quiet, avoids anything that even looks like confrontation, only hints at 'it' and you have to spend a lot of time to figure out how and what 'it' really is.

In case it sounds like I am crapping over one family at the expense of another, I'd like to make it clear that I am not. I, of course, am more comfortable with what I grew up with than anything else, but I dearly love my in-laws. I just didn't really ever want to have to manage the dynamics of all those different realities at once.

It's all my fault. I was meandering around the Westjet website as they were having a sale (you never know when you'll need a cheap ticket to somewhere and I was fantasizing about getting on a plane to elsewhere) and I commented that they had these four day package tours to destinations in the maritimes. It was all very innocent. So I wandered upstairs and about ten minutes later I was facing my in-laws who wanted to know if we could all go to Halifax to visit my parents since they had mever been to Halifax, hadn't met my Dad, and hadn't seen my Mom since the wedding (seven years ago).

I wonder how come they didn't jump on the seven day packages to Maui, they were the same price and have way prettier flowers.

So there it is. I spent two hours on the phone booking our tickets and hotel and such and trying not to be too stressed out and having some fairly weird anxiety over the whole thing. My partner slept, which is his way of dealing with this sort of stress. Anyway, I figure that in the end it can't possibly be too bad bacause they have one very important thing in common, their very first grandchild.

Nate will be the glue that bonds the fuckedupedness of our strange mish-mashed family together.

Grrrowleee Bear

I was looking at all the kewl stuff at Modern Baby and was delighted to see this as an example of the wonderful paintings by our friend Lori Joy Smith. I immediately snatched it up so that I could post it here and y'all who haven't had the chance to see this beautiful gift that Lori made for Nate can now feast your eyes on it. She makes the coolest stuff, including onesies if you are looking for that perfect version of baby wearable art.

A New Friend

The thing about boobs...

Well, there are lots of things about boobs--my boobs--what with the breastfeeding and all. We are trying to wean Nate off of the night feedings because they seem to be really only sucking for more comfort and to get back to sleep than they are for food. It also encourages him to want to feed at night when we feed him every time he wakes up, or so I read in those infernal books. Mostly he just wakes up, latches on for a few minute snack, then goes back to sleep. He has been down to one of these feeds per night lately. So last night he woke up and I didn't give in and after a couple of mins I rocked him back to sleep (point for me--yay mum!). However, I was really tired and my sleepy brain decided that the baby could sleep with us so I wouldn't have to get up all the time. This worked really well (except for a hurty neck) and Nate did not let a peep out until about five thirty this morning. Now I have the fear that he will want to do this all the time. More than that, I have a fear that I will want to do this all the time (point for baby).

What does this all have to do with boobs? Well, now that the feeding has been reduced throughout the night, I'm waking up with one really bitchy swelly mean boob in the mornings that does not like to be slept on and wakes me up with its ouchiness (one point for boob o' plenty).

Clarification--I have one big mother of a boob that gives lots of milk and one little boob that gives less milk, hence the boob o' plenty (big boob and little boob will do). Now in addition to being all lopsided big boob is mad at me.

Some days you just can't win for losing.

I really don't see the whole thing as a a points game (mostly).

The market of farmers

Yay!

Today we took Nate to his first farmers market. Because I am overly terrified of him getting sunstroke or a burn or heatstroke (everybody has to worry about something--I have to worry about everything) we went very early. And guess what? There are a whole bunch of folks (called parents , I guess) who apparently worry about the same things I do 'cause every second person seemed to have a baby in a stroller or a carrier or a sling. I love the farmers market even though it is a little on the 'spensive side. The food is so fresh and where else are you going to get lovely candy cane beets and organic rhubarb and little golf ball sized summer squash? Oh and the organic portebello, shitake and oyster mushrooms from the lovely mushroom people (those people who sell mushrooms, not lovely people made out of mushrooms). I can't wait until the summer corn is out! Did I mention that I really like food?

Oh yeah, and Nate liked it too. He got a kick out of all the people and the dogs and the sheer goings on in the world. I watched him watching the sky go by on the bus this morning--so fascinated.

I've just put him down in his crib with George for a nap. George is his new best friend--a little stuffed monkey he's been chewing on. Except I put him down awake, just to see what would happen. Since I started writing he's been happily chatting and biting away on George. Now he's starting to call out to see if anyone comes to get him. I wonder if he will fall asleep like this? Is it bad to experiment on your kids? Just little social-behavioural experiments, nothing too weird or anything.

Oh yeah, Happy Canada Day!

He's still not asleep and starting to sound kinda pissy/worried.