All Apologies

I'm sorry. I really am. I make promises I don't keep. I'm inconsistent at best. I know. I know. If I were you I'd stage a dramatic blog break up with me, I would. I just don't have the patience you do. But I really do plan to get back to blogging regularly soon. In the meantime read this. It took me awhile to warm up to Dooce but with this post I'm officially in love. Power to the people. Damn the man.

PS. If I post a video of G laughing her little baby ass off will you forgive me? Yeah... I thought so.

Welcome to Crazy Town

You know you’re going crazy when you leave your daughter’s toys in the sink to soak and when you walk by them a minute later you’re struck by a brief wave a panic thinking “Oh SHIT, Periwinkle’s drowning... Gaia’s going to be so upset”. True story.


Another sign of madness? The fact that each of her toys has a name and personal history. Periwinkle Penguin is one of her favourites. He’s BFFs with Allister. Allister is a crocodile. The joke goes like this:

A: “Nice to meet you, my name is Allister.”
New Guy: “Oh, I get it. Like Allister Alligator right?”
A: “Um no. I’m a crocodile.”

Gaia thinks I’m hilarious. There’s also a sordid love triangle going on between Gaia, Marv and Ellie. Marv and Ellie are colourful spiders that hang off her car seat and as for the love triangle, well, I’ll save that for another post.

PS. Regular posting to commence tomorrow. Seriously. I almost promise.

Gaia 1, Shadow 0

If you frequent my blog you’re well aware that the Jolly Jumper is pretty much Gaia’s favourite thing of all time. Tonight she was bouncing when suddenly she became irate. Her little eyebrows knotted into her patented death stare and she began to shout what can only be described as the baby talk version of obscene four-letter words, her little fist shaking above her purple face. After a few seconds I noticed her gaze was fixed steadily on what appeared to be a random spot on the floor. Confused I called in my father for reinforcements. It was he who noticed it was Gaia’s bouncing shadow that was causing all the fuss. Trust me, I thought he was crazy too until he turned off the light casting the shadow and Gaia promptly stopped her tirade and gave me a look like “don’t worry, he won’t be bothering us again” before returning to giggly jumping for joy.

Of course when she went to bed I googled* baby + shadow and found these:



I have to admit I am currently swelling with pride that my daughter isn’t some sissy afraid of her shadow. Nope. My daughter showed that shadow who’s boss.

* Frankly I could write new blog every day that consisted only of the things I Google and the answers I get. It’s both sad and ridiculously entertaining.

The Catapult

Jaydeen (one of my BFFs who I write about frequently) and her main-man-Myles have started a blog which promises to be chock full of amazing photographs. Both have a wonderful and unique way of seeing the world and Jaydeen's photos in particular leave me wanting to wax poetic about life and art and travel and beauty. I've been begging her for years to get her shit together for an exhibition in Miami (where she currently lives) but for now this will have to do. A professional by no means her photos are simply a momentary glimpse of what life must look like through her eyes. We should all be so lucky to see what she sees.

If I haven't convinced you yet then have a look at some of my favourite shots she took while she helped me survive in the two weeks after Gaia was born.

Like a Weed (You Know, One of Those Really Pretty Ones)

In honour of my (big) baby girl's 5 MONTH BIRTHDAY:

G in her birthday suit!

For those of you interested in those sorts of things Gaia weighs 17 pounds, 14 ounces as of this morning at 8:54am. That makes her an even 11 pounds larger then this very day 5 months ago. I would make a joke about gaining 11 pounds in 5 months but I've been there... I like to call that my first year of university (ahem*40poundsin8months*ahem). Anyway. I'm not the best at measuring a squirmy worm baby but I believe she's about 26.5 inches tall. I eyeballed her head and can confirm it is still gigantic.

Dear Gaia,

I’m sorry to have to write you this letter. If I was a bigger person I could say this to your face but frankly I’ve never been great at confronting the people I love and I always find a passive aggressive letter or (in these days of modern technology) a strongly worded email is just the ticket. See, if I tried to talk to you one-on-one you’d inevitably be adorable and flash me your toothless smile and I’d forget all about what I had to say and cover you in kisses and no, I refuse to be distracted this time. I am a woman on a mission. So here it goes. Gaia. G-Bear. My little Gaia-Roo. You. Are. Driving. Me. Crazy.

There. I said it. See, I’ve done my best to be patient and ride the rollercoaster that is our life together, but here’s the thing, I need a little consistency. Please. I beg of you. Joy is what I felt the first night I let you “cry-it-out”. Joy tinged with sweet relief. You had me going for a week or so but perhaps you heard me bragging about you on the phone last night and thought you better knock me down a peg or two. Clearly waking up every two hours at almost five-months old is inappropriate. I don’t need to tell you that. You and I both know you can do better. Now, I’ll try and accept that maybe you were having a rough night. I’ve been there. Was it the two little teeth just begging to pop though your lower gums? Your body’s insistence on continuing to grow? Was it something new and exciting that neither of us knows how to deal with yet? The possibilities are endless. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt and happily and promptly got up at the sound of your cries. But here’s where things really started to get me down. Was it totally necessary, when I finally gave in and put you in my bed at 5:00am to a) continue to refuse to sleep and b) pry my unprotected mouth open so you could projectile vomit into it while I tried to catch some sneaky Zs? I mean COME ON. Now I’m sure you’re well aware that your delightful baby vomit tastes shockingly like battery acid (and before you get distracted with semantics yes, I DO know what battery acid tastes like having been convinced once by a babysitter to taste the coppery stain on my dresser... which reminds me... if I ever leave you with a high school kid who lives down the road don’t trust her, she’s just in it for the money), but beyond the horrible taste it is just disgusting to vomit into someone else’s mouth. I know I’ve taught you better than that. And as for your behaviour so far today, well, I know you’re tired but I’m tired too and frankly, I’m not the one who waged a war on sleep last night. I’m just sayin’.

My point, if I can make one here, is that I’m doing the best I can. I’m all alone here kid and my whole world revolves around you. If you could just spend a minute in my head you’d see I’m your official stalker, so consumed with you I have trouble thinking about anything else. My days consist of funny faces and tickles and bottles and wiping your poopy bum and cuddles and baby board books and developmental games and lullabies and, well, I could go on forever. Clearly I’m in love. When you break out your baby laugh and you’re in a good mood you’re friggin' gorgeous. Like seriously, seriously cute. More importantly, I’m pretty sure you’re a genius to a Stephen Hawking degree (what with being able to roll over and hold your own bottle). So please, don’t ever doubt my love for you. Here with you is exactly where I want to be. I’ve got a lot of years of steady inclines and shocking drops and loop after nauseating loop in me yet but seriously Nugget, throw me a bone. If you could just talk to the picketers campaigning to abolish naps and get your evening slumber down to a solid routine and do your best to keep your extensive bodily fluids to yourself I’d really appreciate it. And if not, well I guess I’ll deal with it. You’re worth it.

Big Love, Your Mama

Sushi and Iconic Tees Please

I just felt the need to declare my love for the new book G's Fairy Godmother (AKA: Jaydeen) sent us from her trip to NYC.

Miso in my sippy cup,

tofu in my bowl.

Crab and Avocado fill my California Roll.

We've read it at least once a day since it arrived. Add to that the stylin' I ♥ NY onesie and G is officially the raddest littlest hipster ever. There are definite advantages to having a globe-trotting Godmama, which is not to say we wouldn't really love it if she moved back home too (hint, hint).

Gratitude: Family Edition

Yesterday’s post was a bit of a downer. I’m aware of this. In fact I went to bed feeling guilty for writing it because frankly I have a lot to be grateful for. I’m big on gratitude and although I don’t pray and my feelings on a higher power are undefined and find myself silently giving thanks throughout the day. I blame it on my mother who has always shouted “THANK YOU” to the heavens when she finds a good parking spot or a cart that doesn’t wobble. Anyway, at the risk of getting all Oprah early-two-thousand-and-something-ish I thought it was about time I got back to focussing on the good things.

1. Co-Bear

The dinner he made for my Dad and me. He came over with a cardboard box full of ingredients and left us with full tummies. Only my brother would serve the largest greek salad of all time, chicken with a mango-chipotle rub and orange ginger sauce and pasta with chickpeas and tomato sauce as a unified meal. It was delicious. When we were all finished he took Gaia for a walk while my Dad and I cleaned up. If I didn't know better I'd swear he was becoming a grown-up.

2. Kare-Bear

Our water week in which Gaia went for her first swim in the pool,

followed two days later by her first swim in the lake.

Even more exciting is our plans for more adventures to come. My mother makes sure we get out of the house to avoid us both going entirely crazy.

3. Ger-Bear

Watching the news with my Dad when the following commercial came on:



My normally deadpan father simply muttered “I hate those kids” and I laughed so hard things shot from my nose.

(Note: I love those kids and those commercials, but then again I can also do everything they can do and more while it still takes my Dad twenty minutes to send an email. You know what I’d like to see? How about “I’m a PC and I’m sixty-two”. That would be far more impressive.)

Going to the Farmer’s Market on Scarth this morning. We picked up a delightful broccoli-cauliflower hybrid that I’m fascinated with. Clearly Gaia is oblivious to its greatness.

Make It Work

So, I know. Every time I commit to hopping aboard the post-a-day train again something happens and I find myself derailed. To be honest I’m just not quite myself lately and I keep waiting to wake up feeling better so I can get back to posts about poop. The culprit? My MP was looking into the immigration situation for Jose since apparently the federal government doesn’t actually believe in communicating with its citizens and showing genuine concern for their unique situations. Anyway, long story short, it would appear it’s going to be a minimum of fourteen months until Jose has even a glimmer of hope for getting into Canada. Yeah, so there’s that.

Now, before I go on here’s the thing you need to know about me (if you don’t already). I’m the most capable person you’ll ever meet. I’m the girl who goes to university full time and works thirty hours a week and volunteers here, there and everywhere and stays up until 4:00am to bake cupcakes and craft whimsical greeting cards because so-and-so’s smile looked a little off over coffee the other day and it is clearly my job to cheer them up. I have itemized, prioritized, painfully organised lists and I generally get more done before breakfast than most people do all day. Like I said, I’m the most capable person you’ll ever meet, until of course suddenly I’m not. For the most part I go through life always able to find a positive spin. Like Tim Gunn I’m always finding a way to “make it work” and “carry on”. The downside to this in that every once in awhile I find myself overwhelmed with everything I’ve tried to be positive about, usually spurred by some epic failure or disappointment and then, predictably, my facade comes crashing down and my world begins to unravel. When your only coping mechanism is to look on the bright side and you suddenly find yourself devoid of positivity, well, you can imagine the results.

When we got the immigration news I tried to take it all in stride. I immediately started a mental list of reasons why the news was good. It went something like:

1) Well at least now we know! Now we have a concrete timeline to work with! This is good news actually! Great news!

2) I might get to live in Peru and that’s cool! I’ll always be able to say “oh yeah, that was the year we lived in Peru”! Plus Gaia will get more time with her other grandparents and uncles and cousins! Yup! This is gonna be great! GREAT!

3) I... um... well...

And that’s about as far as I got before I gave in and every disappointment Jose and I have faced for the past year started pressing against my chest. The pain I’ve been pushing aside in favour of silver linings, yeah, it sucks, especially all at once. Our multiple visitor visa rejections and the fact I went though all but three-weeks of my pregnancy alone. The memories of feeling Gaia move inside of me for the first time and looking around excitedly only to realise I had no one to share it with. The way I was terrified and had no idea if everything was going to be okay and how there was no one there to reassure me. How I used to lay in bed alone and whisper “everything’s going to be okay” and pretend it was Jose just so I could fall asleep. How I gave birth with the support of someone who, while amazing, was not my husband and how all I wanted in the world was to share it with him. How much I hated feeling bitter or anything besides joy on my first night with Gaia because it wasn’t her fault Jose wasn’t there any more than it was his, or mine. How much I regretted those tears when she was only a few hours old. The pure and poisonous envy I feel every time I see families intact and want to pull them aside and shake them and ask them if they really appreciate everything they have and if they know how much harder it would be if they didn’t have the physical presence of each other regardless of how difficult just being together could be sometimes. How I spend hours when I should be falling asleep just wondering how much easier it all would be if there were two of us, especially since that other person would be Jose. Yeah. I could go on for hours about all the bitterness and bile that’s spilled over in the past week but that’s exactly why I haven’t been posting anything in the first place. See I fear and loath pity in equal amounts and try to avoid it whenever possible (an easy feat when one places their whole existence on a positive point-of-view). Still I thought maybe if I just wrote it all down (or at least scratched the surface) I might be able to let it go and get back to those longed after posts where every once in awhile I’ve even been known to make a funny.