It’s been one hundred and sixty nine days since I posted about my inner dialogue and the vacation it took without me. Since then a lot has happened.
In brief: Jose Miguel and I separated. Mi familia y yo had an amazing/awkward/perfect/painful last week as a family in Perú. Two-thirds of mi familia flew back to Canada. One-third of mi familia screamed for over an hour on a flight from Winnipeg to Regina. A gorilla, a robot, some long-lost members of Jem and the Holograms and my Dad met us at the airport. Saskatchewan, as always, proved cold and somehow comforting. I made some bad choices, obsessed a little and lost twenty-five pounds from the stress of it all. I’ve never looked better. I started Spanish 101 and found myself in a level of hell only verb conjugation can create. I started reading and writing en español at a level I never thought I’d reach. I felt proud of myself. Jose Miguel was approved as a Permanent Resident of Canada after well over a year of waiting. We were told our paperwork was some of the quickest of anyone in our situation. I still want to burn Immigration Canada to the ground. Jose Miguel moved to Canada. Turns out the full three-thirds of mi familia in one house is amazing. We vaguely looked into filing for divorce but then something came up. Gaia learned to walk after an intense session with her personal Phys Ed teacher while Canada was winning an insane amount of gold medals in the Olympics. I finally went to Salsa night. I didn’t dance. I bought a car. I actually won’t own it for four years. Semantics. I tried snowboarding for the first time and I was amazing, even if I couldn’t move for almost a week after. I applied for a job, got offered a job and turned a job down. I’m glad I changed my mind. I love my job. Jose Miguel stayed home with Gaia full-time for almost a month. He’s an amazing father and still the most handsome man I’ve seen up close. The fact that we’re horrible at being married remains. I started running every morning at 6:00am. It made me feel strong and powerful and brave. We celebrated Gaia’s first birthday with a big party and a cake only my Dad could create. Jose Miguel took one last contract on ships. He left. Gaia got a spot at a home daycare. Gaia got kicked out of a home daycare. Gaia got a spot at an amazing, reputable, government subsidised daycare. I was reminded that everything happens for a reason. Gaia and I went to Vancouver for a visit. She made a lifelong friend in a big black dog, had her first experience with finger paint and was the star at her second first birthday party. She did this while wearing an excessively large tutu. I got to catch up, tell my story and celebrate the thirtieth birthday of one of the most amazing people I know. I felt like I could breathe again. We went home. I started a passionate love affair with coffee. Gaia started a passionate love affair with making friends. We are all very happy. I bought an iPhone. I took a week off Facebook. My Dad started cooking family dinner on Sunday nights. I got to dress like a grownup every day. It’s been said, by my boss, that I could take over the world all while wearing six-inch heels. She’s a smart lady. Gaia was exposed to every germ in existence. One day I caught her licking the floor at daycare. She was sick a lot. She stopped sleeping through the night. I talked to Jose Miguel on the phone almost every day. Who would have thought? I got my hopes up for spring and then it started snowing again. I questioned my decision to live in Regina. I started dating, realised I was bad at it and quit. I cut over ten inches of hair off my head. I was relatively unmoved but I’m pretty sure my stylist cried after I left. I had a picnic with my Mom. Gaia enjoyed her first ice cream cone... and her second... and her third. The sun came out and we got a big plastic pool shaped like a shark. Again, I got my hopes up. It was grey and rainy for a month. I cleaned my bathroom. Gaia proved she is a budding genius through a series of events I relayed to anyone who would listen. She started running everywhere. I finally sorted through all my old boxes, found I’d saved every piece of paper from university and threw it out. Now I have a whole extra room in my house. I’m planning on setting up a studio space for me and my girl. Gaia still doesn’t speak save for “Mama”, “Dad-Dad” (what she calls her Grandad) and “Uh-Oh” but she is the best non-verbal communicator I’ve ever met. She now knows the signs for “please”, “more” and “all done” thanks to the wonderful women at daycare. She has a genuine best friend who makes her laugh like no one else. They have perfected the best friend high-five. She climbs up the stairs, up the couch and up the walls. I’ve taken to telling strangers she is NUTBALLS when they look at her picture in my iPhone. She is. I drank many glasses of red wine and got drunk for the first time in a long time. I went to a lot of BBQs, playdates, dinners and a gala. I had my picture taken by Regina paparazzi one night with my boss. Apparently I’m Regina famous (or rather, employed by someone who is). A good friend came to town. We ate the best burger I’ve ever tasted, hosted a BBQ, drank a lot of Big Rock Lime Beer and bought fifteen dollars worth of jellybeans. I redesigned the blog one night while I watched Whip It. Jose Miguel and I made some decisions. We're still not divorced. This weekend the sun started shining. I got a tan while logging working hours and danced on the grass with Gaia when I was finished. Last night I took her to the park. She slid down the slide on her own for the first time. She perfected the art with at least eighty more solo slides before I could get her back home. As a result I think I developed an arm muscle I didn't know existed. This morning I felt like writing.
I make no promises, but... I'm back. Did you miss me?
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
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.
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.
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2. Kare-Bear
Our water week in which Gaia went for her first swim in the pool,
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followed two days later by her first swim in the lake.
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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-BearWatching 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.
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Sunday, June 21, 2009
Daddy's Girl
My father is one of my favourite people in the world. He is the standard I set for myself. How I know that a quiet soul should never be mistaken for an empty mind, that being powerful is not the same as being feared and that everyone is flawed but deserves the right to be accepted. I like to think I was born understanding him. Knowing he is funny and caring and generous if you just have the patience to see it.
My father is lazy mornings in the water bed when I was a baby. Days spent reading stories and getting groceries and eating cheerios (mostly me) while we cooked (mostly him). By all accounts I was bossy and demanding and always in his arms. I have memories of colouring books and games of checkers and walking across the road to visit him in the shop. Elaborate birthday cakes and handmade wooden toys and custom bedroom furniture and lying on the floor while he cut my toenails. He is quiet in the chaos, time with my father like the stillness in the eye of the storm. He’s goodnight whisker rubs that replaced goodnight kisses and left me with tingling rosy cheeks from his five-o-clock shadow. He’s the smell of wheat and gasoline that will always make me feel safe. His is a pride in me that hides behind gruffness and awkward hugs but that shows every day, in every way, in all the ways he’s lived his life so that mine may be better.
When I got pregnant he was the family member I told first. I knew his calm would be reassuring. He opened his home to me and went out every day to get me Booster Juice because I was too nauseous to keep anything else down. When I didn’t know what to do he built a home up around me. Just another example of the way he’s spent a lifetime calmly helping me put the pieces of my world back together when the rug’s been pulled from beneath me. A father’s greatest trick. To say I’m lucky doesn’t begin to describe it.
I feel luckier still now that now that he’s a part of Gaia’s life. Her granddad is silly songs and sounds and faces when he thinks no one else is looking. He’s tirelessly bouncing her on his knee and cautiously knocking on our door when she’s been screaming for hours so he can help. He’s always there to help, has always been there, cannot imagine a time when he will not be there. I refuse to believe there will be a time when he will not be there.
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Happy Father’s Day.
My father is lazy mornings in the water bed when I was a baby. Days spent reading stories and getting groceries and eating cheerios (mostly me) while we cooked (mostly him). By all accounts I was bossy and demanding and always in his arms. I have memories of colouring books and games of checkers and walking across the road to visit him in the shop. Elaborate birthday cakes and handmade wooden toys and custom bedroom furniture and lying on the floor while he cut my toenails. He is quiet in the chaos, time with my father like the stillness in the eye of the storm. He’s goodnight whisker rubs that replaced goodnight kisses and left me with tingling rosy cheeks from his five-o-clock shadow. He’s the smell of wheat and gasoline that will always make me feel safe. His is a pride in me that hides behind gruffness and awkward hugs but that shows every day, in every way, in all the ways he’s lived his life so that mine may be better.
When I got pregnant he was the family member I told first. I knew his calm would be reassuring. He opened his home to me and went out every day to get me Booster Juice because I was too nauseous to keep anything else down. When I didn’t know what to do he built a home up around me. Just another example of the way he’s spent a lifetime calmly helping me put the pieces of my world back together when the rug’s been pulled from beneath me. A father’s greatest trick. To say I’m lucky doesn’t begin to describe it.
I feel luckier still now that now that he’s a part of Gaia’s life. Her granddad is silly songs and sounds and faces when he thinks no one else is looking. He’s tirelessly bouncing her on his knee and cautiously knocking on our door when she’s been screaming for hours so he can help. He’s always there to help, has always been there, cannot imagine a time when he will not be there. I refuse to believe there will be a time when he will not be there.
Happy Father’s Day.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Yellow Poop and Other Reasons Why Life is Good
Given the horribly depressing mood of Thursday’s post I thought I should write a little something to perk things up around here. List format seems best as I’ve got a million and one things to do this morning.
1. I opened my email yesterday to find an amazingly supportive message from my official ‘Mommy Friend’. It made me feel like someone understood, like somebody cared and invariably made me feel like a better mother. Plus it made me laugh out loud. If you have a baby but don’t have a ‘Mommy Friend’ you should go find yourself one immediately. She won’t be as great as mine of course but we can’t all be so lucky.
2. I bit the bullet and started Gaia on soy formula yesterday to see if it made a difference to her demeanour, skin and poop (I’m a mama and an excessive portion of my mind space revolves around baby poop... deal with it). I know they say it can take up to two weeks to notice a difference but she drank the first bottle without stopping, without fussing and without tensing her entire baby body for the first time during a feeding in almost two weeks. She eagerly consumed three more bottles in the late afternoon and evening, each followed with a dainty burp, some big smiles and quick cat-naps. When I went to take her diaper off for her bedtime bath it was filled with the most glorious baby poop I have ever seen. Not only was it the perfect soft consistency but it was... wait for it... YELLOW! Gaia officially had her first appropriately coloured baby poop. I almost kissed the dirty diaper I was so happy, but I settled for kissing Gaia instead. She acted nonchalant but I know she was excited too. I also feel it’s important to note that the reason I hadn’t noticed she’d pooped was that she didn’t clench up, stop breathing, turn purple and grunt while pooping, but rather hummed the little BM song I’ve heard from all the breastfed babies I know. I still have a nagging worry that the fact the formula is iron-fortified might be a problem but overall I feel the experiment has been a success. Did I mention I put her to bed at 10:00pm and she’s still sleeping? It’s almost 8:30am. Yeah.
3. I have amazing parents. I moved far away from home in my teens and while brief instances reminded me of this fact overall I think I grossly underestimated them. If they weren’t so fantastic there is absolutely no way I could be doing this all on my own. Plus they’ve been divorced for almost ten years and when I came home from running errands yesterday they we’re tag teaming a screaming Gaia, trying to get her to sleep. This is the kind of civilised behaviour everyone should expect from two people who chose to have children together, even if they later chose not to share their lives. Unfortunately I know lots of people who aren’t so lucky. Thank God for Grandparents. Especially Gaia’s.
4. In a few short hours Gaia and I will be boarding a plane to Vancouver. Not only is Vancouver my official ‘happy place’(the ocean, the mountains, the trees and the sky... oh my... not to mention the shopping) but it’s also jam-packed with some of my best friends in the world. I don’t care if it rains all summer... I love it there.
5. In just thirty-two hours I get to pick up my husband at the airport after one hundred and fifty-one days apart. Better still, he gets to hold his daughter for the first time. Words can’t express my excitement.
1. I opened my email yesterday to find an amazingly supportive message from my official ‘Mommy Friend’. It made me feel like someone understood, like somebody cared and invariably made me feel like a better mother. Plus it made me laugh out loud. If you have a baby but don’t have a ‘Mommy Friend’ you should go find yourself one immediately. She won’t be as great as mine of course but we can’t all be so lucky.
2. I bit the bullet and started Gaia on soy formula yesterday to see if it made a difference to her demeanour, skin and poop (I’m a mama and an excessive portion of my mind space revolves around baby poop... deal with it). I know they say it can take up to two weeks to notice a difference but she drank the first bottle without stopping, without fussing and without tensing her entire baby body for the first time during a feeding in almost two weeks. She eagerly consumed three more bottles in the late afternoon and evening, each followed with a dainty burp, some big smiles and quick cat-naps. When I went to take her diaper off for her bedtime bath it was filled with the most glorious baby poop I have ever seen. Not only was it the perfect soft consistency but it was... wait for it... YELLOW! Gaia officially had her first appropriately coloured baby poop. I almost kissed the dirty diaper I was so happy, but I settled for kissing Gaia instead. She acted nonchalant but I know she was excited too. I also feel it’s important to note that the reason I hadn’t noticed she’d pooped was that she didn’t clench up, stop breathing, turn purple and grunt while pooping, but rather hummed the little BM song I’ve heard from all the breastfed babies I know. I still have a nagging worry that the fact the formula is iron-fortified might be a problem but overall I feel the experiment has been a success. Did I mention I put her to bed at 10:00pm and she’s still sleeping? It’s almost 8:30am. Yeah.
3. I have amazing parents. I moved far away from home in my teens and while brief instances reminded me of this fact overall I think I grossly underestimated them. If they weren’t so fantastic there is absolutely no way I could be doing this all on my own. Plus they’ve been divorced for almost ten years and when I came home from running errands yesterday they we’re tag teaming a screaming Gaia, trying to get her to sleep. This is the kind of civilised behaviour everyone should expect from two people who chose to have children together, even if they later chose not to share their lives. Unfortunately I know lots of people who aren’t so lucky. Thank God for Grandparents. Especially Gaia’s.
4. In a few short hours Gaia and I will be boarding a plane to Vancouver. Not only is Vancouver my official ‘happy place’(the ocean, the mountains, the trees and the sky... oh my... not to mention the shopping) but it’s also jam-packed with some of my best friends in the world. I don’t care if it rains all summer... I love it there.
5. In just thirty-two hours I get to pick up my husband at the airport after one hundred and fifty-one days apart. Better still, he gets to hold his daughter for the first time. Words can’t express my excitement.
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