Come Here Often?

Today while waiting with Gaia for a friend at a Starbucks the following exchange took place:

Moderately Attractive Man : Your baby is adorable.
Me : Thanks.
M.A.M : No really. She has your eyes. They are beautiful.
Me (looking away awkwardly) : Oh. Um. Thanks.
M.A.M : How old is she?
Me : Three and a half months.
M.A.M : Oh WOW. She’s only a few months old? You look great.
Me (still avoiding eye contact) : Oh. Um. Thanks.
M.A.M : So, um, Daddy’s at work?
Me : Yup.
M.A.M : And you and Daddy are...
Me : Married.
M.A.M : Alright then. Have a good afternoon.
Me : Will do.

I’m not sure what’s more shocking, the fact that there’s a man out there who trolls Starbucks looking for potential single mothers to scam on or the fact that apparently my no makeup, messy ponytail, wedding ring, baby spit-up on shoulder combo screamed “CHOOSE ME! HIT ON ME!”

Baby Fat

Although Gaia was average at birth she quickly dropped to a dangerous weight. The Public Health Nurse was alarmed, friends and family made jokes about how “she definitely doesn’t take after her mother” and even I had to admit my newborn was a tad gangly. Instead of a plump, rosy baby, I had one who was long and lean without a discernable ounce of fat on her. Her skin even sagged like that of an anorexic actress, bones jutting from her hips, ribs clearly visible. At her four-week check up she was in the fifth percentile for weight. I was more then a little concerned. Of course she made her way to a healthy weight eventually and now it appears she’s on track to tip the scales in the other direction. Just last week I noticed her BabyLegs were cutting off circulation in her ample thighs. I simply shimmied them down below her knees and didn’t think much of it. Of course I’ve noticed she’s getting harder and harder to lug around and that she’s rapidly growing out of her three to six month clothing but it wasn’t until last night that it really hit me. I put her in the Bumbo while I made myself dinner, as I always do. I was shocked when I went to pick her up a few minutes later and found her baby thighs firmly wedged in the Bumbo leg holes. That’s right ladies and gentleman, her thighs have grown to such an glorious size she’s getting stuck in a baby seat designed for infants exactly her age. Turns out she takes after me after all.

Gaia's Thighs - Four-Weeks Old (in a Premie-Sized Onesie)

Gaia's Thighs - Fourteen-Weeks Old

Birth of the Narcissist

On the shortlist of Gaia’s favourite things to do looking at herself in the mirror comes a close third to licking inanimate objects and making fun of babies in strollers. She comes by in honestly, Jose and I spend an inordinate amount of time in front of the mirror ourselves. But I digress. Vanity aside I find it fascinating that simply seeing her reflection causes Gaia to calm regardless of her emotional state. More interesting still is that everything I’ve read claims there is no way she connects her reflection to herself. Initially I just wondered why seeing another baby on the street doesn’t have the same effect as the mirror but now my musings have become more complex. If it’s true that a) Gaia does not recognise her reflection and b) Gaia does recognise me and c) I’m holding her ninety percent of the time she is exposed to a mirror then I can’t help but wonder the following:

1. Does she ever get jealous of the baby in the mirror being held by her mother?
2. Does she think said baby is a sibling? A friend’s baby? An apparition? Does she wonder why the baby doesn’t try to play with her?
3. Does she ever wonder how I can be holding both her and the other baby simultaneously? Does she think I’m magic?
4. Does she assume I have a clone or identical twin or the like and if so does she ever wonder why this other mother is only with us when we’re in the bathroom (the lone place in my house where I have a mirror)?
5. Will her mind be totally blown when she meets Jose’s identical twin? Will she wonder why this duplicate Daddy lives outside of the mirror? What will happen if all three of them look in the mirror resulting in four Daddys? Will it cause her baby brain to short circut? Should we avoid this possibility at all costs?
6. Does she ever notice that the baby in the mirror makes the same gestures as her or does she think “Wow, that baby sure spends a lot of time sucking on her hands, what a moron”?
7. Since she talks and laughs most when we’re looking in the mirror I can only assume she finds the mirror baby hilarious. Is that the case or is she just observing social norms and laughing to be polite?
8. When she finally does realise the reflection is her will she feel silly for not making the connection for so long? Will the realisation cause a little baby existential crisis that will result in her questioning her reality for the rest of her life? If so how might I prevent the inevitable breakdown?

Seriously. I think these things and more every time we’re looking in the mirror. Perhaps this is a sign that I need to go back to work or further my education or at the very least start reading books that aren’t about babies again. Or maybe we should just stop looking in the mirror so often? It's a tough call.

Oh and I thought I should explain why Gaia makes fun of babies in strollers... I’m convinced she thinks she’s moving of her own volition when she’s strapped in the sling, the smug look she gives stroller babies says it all.

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.


Happy Father’s Day.

You are Brilliant, and the Earth is Hiring

I can't take credit for finding this as I justthissecond read it on a friend's blog. Still, when I finished I immediately printed it out to be put in Gaia's baby book. This is something she needs to hear someday and more than once. In fact, I suspect I'll read it to her in place of The Belly Button Book when she wakes up from her nap. I hope you feel as inspired as I did.

Commencement Address to the Class of 2009 at the University of Portland
By Paul Hawken, May 3, 2009
When I was invited to give this speech, I was asked if I could give a simple short talk that was "direct, naked, taut, honest, passionate, lean, shivering, startling, and graceful." No pressure there.

Let's begin with the startling part. Class of 2009: you are going to have to figure out what it means to be a human being on earth at a time when every living system is declining, and the rate of decline is accelerating. Kind of a mind-boggling situation... but not one peer-reviewed paper published in the last thirty years can refute that statement. Basically, civilization needs a new operating system, you are the programmers, and we need it within a few decades.

This planet came with a set of instructions, but we seem to have misplaced them. Important rules like don't poison the water, soil, or air, don't let the earth get overcrowded, and don't touch the thermostat have been broken. Buckminster Fuller said that spaceship earth was so ingeniously designed that no one has a clue that we are on one, flying through the universe at a million miles per hour, with no need for seatbelts, lots of room in coach, and really good food—but all that is changing.

There is invisible writing on the back of the diploma you will receive, and in case you didn't bring lemon juice to decode it, I can tell you what it says: You are Brilliant, and the Earth is Hiring. The earth couldn't afford to send recruiters or limos to your school. It sent you rain, sunsets, ripe cherries, night blooming jasmine, and that unbelievably cute person you are dating. Take the hint. And here's the deal: Forget that this task of planet-saving is not possible in the time required. Don't be put off by people who know what is not possible. Do what needs to be done, and check to see if it was impossible only after you are done.

When asked if I am pessimistic or optimistic about the future, my answer is always the same: If you look at the science about what is happening on earth and aren't pessimistic, you don't understand the data. But if you meet the people who are working to restore this earth and the lives of the poor, and you aren't optimistic, you haven't got a pulse. What I see everywhere in the world are ordinary people willing to confront despair, power, and incalculable odds in order to restore some semblance of grace, justice, and beauty to this world. The poet Adrienne Rich wrote, "So much has been destroyed I have cast my lot with those who, age after age, perversely, with no extraordinary power, reconstitute the world." There could be no better description. Humanity is coalescing. It is reconstituting the world, and the action is taking place in schoolrooms, farms, jungles, villages, campuses, companies, refuge camps, deserts, fisheries, and slums.

You join a multitude of caring people. No one knows how many groups and organizations are working on the most salient issues of our day: climate change, poverty, deforestation, peace, water, hunger, conservation, human rights, and more. This is the largest movement the world has ever seen. Rather than control, it seeks connection. Rather than dominance, it strives to disperse concentrations of power. Like Mercy Corps, it works behind the scenes and gets the job done. Large as it is, no one knows the true size of this movement. It provides hope, support, and meaning to billions of people in the world. Its clout resides in idea, not in force. It is made up of teachers, children, peasants, businesspeople, rappers, organic farmers, nuns, artists, government workers, fisherfolk, engineers, students, incorrigible writers, weeping Muslims, concerned mothers, poets, doctors without borders, grieving Christians, street musicians, the President of the United States of America, and as the writer David James Duncan would say, the Creator, the One who loves us all in such a huge way.

There is a rabbinical teaching that says if the world is ending and the Messiah arrives, first plant a tree, and then see if the story is true. Inspiration is not garnered from the litanies of what may befall us; it resides in humanity's willingness to restore, redress, reform, rebuild, recover, reimagine, and reconsider. "One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice," is Mary Oliver's description of moving away from the profane toward a deep sense of connectedness to the living world. Millions of people are working on behalf of strangers, even if the evening news is usually about the death of strangers. This kindness of strangers has religious, even mythic origins, and very specific eighteenth-century roots. Abolitionists were the first people to create a national and global movement to defend the rights of those they did not know. Until that time, no group had filed a grievance except on behalf of itself. The founders of this movement were largely unknown -- Granville Clark, Thomas Clarkson, Josiah Wedgwood — and their goal was ridiculous on the face of it: at that time three out of four people in the world were enslaved. Enslaving each other was what human beings had done for ages. And the abolitionist movement was greeted with incredulity. Conservative spokesmen ridiculed the abolitionists as liberals, progressives, do-gooders, meddlers, and activists. They were told they would ruin the economy and drive England into poverty. But for the first time in history a group of people organized themselves to help people they would never know, from whom they would never receive direct or indirect benefit. And today tens of millions of people do this every day. It is called the world of non-profits, civil society, schools, social entrepreneurship, non-governmental organizations, and companies who place social and environmental justice at the top of their strategic goals. The scope and scale of this effort is unparalleled in history.

The living world is not "out there" somewhere, but in your heart. What do we know about life? In the words of biologist Janine Benyus, life creates the conditions that are conducive to life. I can think of no better motto for a future economy. We have tens of thousands of abandoned homes without people and tens of thousands of abandoned people without homes. We have failed bankers advising failed regulators on how to save failed assets. We are the only species on the planet without full employment. Brilliant. We have an economy that tells us that it is cheaper to destroy earth in real time rather than renew, restore, and sustain it. You can print money to bail out a bank but you can't print life to bail out a planet. At present we are stealing the future, selling it in the present, and calling it gross domestic product. We can just as easily have an economy that is based on healing the future instead of stealing it. We can either create assets for the future or take the assets of the future. One is called restoration and the other exploitation. And whenever we exploit the earth we exploit people and cause untold suffering. Working for the earth is not a way to get rich, it is a way to be rich.

The first living cell came into being nearly 40 million centuries ago, and its direct descendants are in all of our bloodstreams. Literally you are breathing molecules this very second that were inhaled by Moses, Mother Teresa, and Bono. We are vastly interconnected. Our fates are inseparable. We are here because the dream of every cell is to become two cells. And dreams come true. In each of you are one quadrillion cells, 90 percent of which are not human cells. Your body is a community, and without those other microorganisms you would perish in hours. Each human cell has 400 billion molecules conducting millions of processes between trillions of atoms. The total cellular activity in one human body is staggering: one septillion actions at any one moment, a one with twenty-four zeros after it. In a millisecond, our body has undergone ten times more processes than there are stars in the universe, which is exactly what Charles Darwin foretold when he said science would discover that each living creature was a "little universe, formed of a host of self-propagating organisms, inconceivably minute and as numerous as the stars of heaven."

So I have two questions for you all: First, can you feel your body? Stop for a moment. Feel your body. One septillion activities going on simultaneously, and your body does this so well you are free to ignore it, and wonder instead when this speech will end. You can feel it. It is called life. This is who you are. Second question: who is in charge of your body? Who is managing those molecules? Hopefully not a political party. Life is creating the conditions that are conducive to life inside you, just as in all of nature. Our innate nature is to create the conditions that are conducive to life. What I want you to imagine is that collectively humanity is evincing a deep innate wisdom in coming together to heal the wounds and insults of the past.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once asked what we would do if the stars only came out once every thousand years. No one would sleep that night, of course. The world would create new religions overnight. We would be ecstatic, delirious, made rapturous by the glory of God. Instead, the stars come out every night and we watch television.

This extraordinary time when we are globally aware of each other and the multiple dangers that threaten civilization has never happened, not in a thousand years, not in ten thousand years. Each of us is as complex and beautiful as all the stars in the universe. We have done great things and we have gone way off course in terms of honoring creation. You are graduating to the most amazing, stupefying challenge ever bequested to any generation. The generations before you failed. They didn't stay up all night. They got distracted and lost sight of the fact that life is a miracle every moment of your existence. Nature beckons you to be on her side. You couldn't ask for a better boss. The most unrealistic person in the world is the cynic, not the dreamer. Hope only makes sense when it doesn't make sense to be hopeful. This is your century. Take it and run as if your life depends on it.

I took the speech from the Charity Focus blog. To find out more about Paul Hawken check out his website here.

Poo Fountain

I hesitate to write anything more about my ongoing struggle to find a formula that doesn’t make Gaia

a) fussy
b) gassy
c) have excessive diarrhea
d) constipated
e) break out in a rash
f) all of the above

until we’ve finally locked down a bonafide solution. For the purposes of this post all you need to know is that our current formula seems to have solved the majority of our concerns save for the fact her diarrhea is so excessive it’s like her baby bum is a rusted tap in an old farm house that persistently sputters out brown water. Don’t worry, you don’t have to thank me for the visual. Today she was sitting in her Bumbo, happily playing, when she let out a series of farts. As I always do post fart I stopped what I was doing and approached her to survey the scene. The smell seemed to confirm a poop, but I picked her up to be sure. Instantly my hands felt wet. I turned her around to see a gigantic skid mark that traveled up her back and culminated in a diarrhea splatter on her neck. I can only surmise that the force of her farts caused her brown water poo to shoot up and out of her diaper like a glorious, disgusting baby poo fountain. Needless to say the damage control was extensive and included anti-bacterial soap, a washing machine, no less the twelve wipes, a shower nozzle, a wash cloth and an entirely new outfit. On the plus side the dog saw fit to lick the Bumbo clean for me while I was washing myself and Gaia. Like a revolting and hairy Mother’s helper she is. Now if I can just remember to be extra diligent in my attempts to keep the dog’s mouth away from the baby for the next few days we’ll be just fine.

Oh and if reading this post made you feel uncomfortable or cause you to mutter a serious of judgmental “ewwws” at any point please take a moment to remind yourself… this is my life.

Baby Weight? (An Update)

On Saturday I posted this.

A few hours later I got an email from my official Mommy Friend enthusiastically outlining an idea she had for losing her own "baby weight" and suggesting I get onboard so we could support each other. I was going to write about it today but she beat me to the punch. Check it out here.

While my meals aren't becoming uber-healthy I am considering portion control. So far I have resisted the temptation to snack on multiple occasions. Eating a bag of Doritos at 8:00am seems less cute when I have to take a picture of it and send it out for public scrutiny. I know, I know. My Mommy Friend isn't exactly the public en mass and would never judge but still, she's holding me accountable for my choices. Antoher good thing about this new experiment? Last night at 11:00pm I was exhausted and moody and so ready to eat icing straight from the jar but I didn't. Why? I'd already emailed out my food dairy signaling the end of my daily munching of course.

Anyway, I'll let you know how it goes.