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).