The Hippie Housewife

Why homebirth

2009-07-06T19:21:00.003-04:00

It was recently suggested on a (mainstream) pregnancy forum that those who birth with a midwife at home or in a birthing center do it only for the “experience”, and that the safest place to give birth is in a hospital “just in case” anything goes wrong. When I replied that midwife-attended homebirths were statistically safer than OB-attended hospital births, I was asked why that was. So, in my typical concise fashion (ha!), I replied.

An obstetrician's training is in the pathology of pregnancy - finding and treating the things that go wrong with pregnancy. A midwife's training is in normal birth. The difference in training focus typically means a difference in the way the two caregivers approach birth.

OBs who provide maternity care for healthy women often apply unnecessary interventions to those healthy women, rather than solely to the complicated pregnancies for which said interventions would be appropriate and necessary. This is the case both during routine prenatal care and during the labour and delivery itself. These interventions often lead to complications that otherwise would not have arisen.

Midwives provide a far more holistic maternity care, viewing pregnancy and birth as a normal and healthy part of life rather than something to be micromanaged and intervened with. Intervention happens only when medically necessary, and midwives are trained to recognize complications which require transfer of care to an OB.

Family doctors typically have lower rates of obstetrical intervention than OBs do. (A family doctor was my caregiver of choice for my first pregnancy. A midwife is my preference this time, with temporary care being given by a family doctor as we are currently in between cities for the summer.)

North America is unique in its common use of obstetricians to provide prenatal care for routine low-risk pregnancies and deliveries. Most countries use OBs only for high-risk cases, with the bulk of prenatal care provided by midwives. These countries, incidentally, have lower maternal and newborn death rates.

Aside from the use of OBs in normal, healthy, low-risk pregnancies, the hospital environment itself is not conducive to the safest birth experience for the typical pregnancy. Fortunately, steps are being made to improve that, with some hospitals far ahead of others, but the typical hospital birth still involves being denied food and drink, having continuous fetal monitoring which requires being in bed during the labour and delivery, and giving birth lying down on your back with a doctor directing your pushing and breathing (the most inefficient way to give birth, but the most convenient way for the doctor). Episiotomies, forceps deliveries, and vacuum-extractor deliveries are all performed with little restraint. Pain relief is encouraged even though it commonly leads to problems with the delivery (inefficient pushing, fetal distress, etc) and thus in turn leads to a disappointingly high number of unnecessary c-sections. Time limits placed on the length of labour, coupled with the pressure of doctor hours, result in drugs frequently given to speed up labour, which again leads to more unnecessary c-sections. Any unnecessary surgery introduces risks that would otherwise not be present.

None of this is to say anything of the emotional state of a woman labouring in a hospital versus labouring at home. Most often, the woman feels that she and her labour are under the control of her doctor, becoming a passive participant rather than empowered to direct her own labour. The L&D room is often full of various nurses, residents, and doctors, any of whom may interrupt the labouring woman at any time. She labours under the constant threat of interventions and, ultimately, “failure to progress” (AKA, in many cases, your doctor wants to go home). None of this promotes the sense of comfort, security and focus that enables a woman to labour efficiently. Unfortunately, the connection between a woman’s state of mind and the ability of her body to labour is often ignored in the hospital setting.

Finally, there is concern about the safety of many prenatal tests and postnatal procedures performed, both for the mother and the child, as well as the difficulty a woman often has in declining any of those tests or procedures.

Any one individual midwife is not guaranteed to provide holistic maternity care, nor is any one individual OB guaranteed to encourage unnecessary interventions on a normal healthy pregnancy/birth, but the trends are there nonetheless. I am wholly confident in the care that a good midwife can provide, as I am wholly confident in my body to be capable of doing what women have been doing since the very beginning. On the (very low) chance that something does go wrong, I am grateful that hospitals are there to provide care where care is needed - in cases of disease and trauma, not in cases of normal, healthy, life-giving events.

So no, I have not planned a homebirth for the experience, for my own personal satisfaction, or because all the cool pregnant ladies are doing it. I have a planned a homebirth because for my low-risk pregnancy, a homebirth is the safest option.

Oh Baby

2009-07-03T12:29:00.004-04:00

17 weeks tomorrow – approaching the halfway mark!

I’m at that point where I don’t really “feel” pregnant. I’m no longer sick and exhausted, but the tiny little movements I’ve been feeling are still small enough to be debatable (was that Baby? maybe?). I do have a bit of a tummy already, much different from last time when even at 6 months I still didn’t look pregnant! I've gained a little over 4 lbs so far. At this point, Baby should be about 5 inches long – that sounds so big to me. Wow.

I’m looking forward to my first ultrasound in less than two weeks. (Unfortunately, my husband will be out of town looking at potential houses to rent for when we move in the fall, so he won’t be there this time. My sister will be joining the boy and me instead.) No, we will not be finding out the gender. We didn’t last time and won’t next time either. I just can’t give up that wonderful moment, after all the hard work of labour and delivery, when someone shouts out “it’s a ___!” That moment is too perfect for words. I was never one who liked to peek at my Christmas presents anyway.

Fortunately, I don’t have a nursery to worry about (pink or blue? green or yellow?), as Baby will sleep with us for at least the first 6 months, but likely longer. We don’t need a new carseat for Baby, who will get the boy’s Britax Roundabout while he gets a bigger model. We don’t need a fancy travel system, as we look forward instead to the “second nine months” (nine months in the womb, nine months outside the womb) with baby snuggled up in a sling or wrap next to Mom or Dad rather than strapped into a baby bucket to be lugged or rolled everywhere. Some cozy gender-neutral zipper sleepers will get us through those first days, with some gender-specific ones added in eventually if this bambino turns out to be a little girl. No, I may be an obsessive type A planner, but I don’t need to know the gender to be wholly prepared for this tiny one.

What we are beginning to prepare for, though, is the birth. I have found a midwife and have my first appt (by phone) next week. My childhood family doctor is providing temporary prenatal care in the interim. What a difference between his five minute whirlwind appointments and the personal care provided by a midwife! I do admit, though, that I would have had a much harder time choosing a care provider if we were still in Ottawa, as we loved our family doctor there. She was wonderful through my last pregnancy, but unfortunately was not the team doctor on call the night I went into labour. I think it would be that – as well as hospital births in general (but that’s another entry altogether) – that would have convinced me to switch to a midwife for my maternity care this time around. Still, moving made the decision easy. We are looking forward to birthing at home under my midwife’s care.

We have also been preparing the little guy for his upcoming role of big brother. He likes to sit on my knee and talk about the baby growing in Mommy’s tummy (he seems particularly focused on the baby’s arms – “Baby grow big arms!!”). We talk about what he can do with the baby, and most of the suggestions have come right from him – sing to the baby, read stories to the baby, show baby “gentle”, give baby hugs and kisses, and, of course, play cars with the baby (okay, so some things will need to be clarified when the tiny little bundle of joy is actually here – but at least his heart is in the right place). We talk often about who we love. “Who does Jacob love?” “Opa!” “Who else?” “Daddy!” And so on and so forth. Then, “who does Mommy love?” “Jacob!” “Yes, Mommy loves Jacob very much. And Mommy loves Daddy.” “Daddy!” “And Mommy loves Baby too.” “Love Baby!” We talk about how Baby will drink Mommy’s milk too, something he brings up quite often now (“Share Mommy milk?” “Yes, honey, you will need to share Mommy milk with the baby.”) And on and on, in many different contexts, making this unborn child very much a part of our family and something for him to be excited about.

On the other hand, I don’t think I’ve yet managed to wrap my head around the idea that in just a few short months, we will have two little ones to love and raise. Who knows, maybe it won’t really be driven home until I hear those first cries, but it did become a bit more real a couple weeks ago. It was a very strange thing. I had just gotten the boy to sleep and was walking out of his room when he let out a tiny little cry in his sleep. Immediately my breasts tingled in that familiar let-down feeling – familiar and yet no longer familiar, it having been so long since they’d actually let down that way. It was that very strange sensation that made me take in a deep breath, suddenly vividly aware that I would have a newborn around the house again. The constant nursing, the sweet milky breath, the sleepy baby nestled next to Mom, the perfect tiny lips, that newborn cry – it all came rushing back in that moment. We’re going to have a baby.

Thank you, God.

Speaking of nursing, I had the bittersweet realization earlier this week that it had been a few days since my toddler had nursed – or had even asked to nurse. I wasn’t even certain I still had milk. The following night, wouldn’t it figure, he did ask for milk at bedtime, and I gave it to him. He seemed to be getting milk – but then last night, just to confuse his poor mother, he wanted to nurse again but most definitely was not getting milk this time (and wasn’t upset by the fact). I’ve never been able to hand-express, so I can’t tell that way. It’s just this surreal period of my baby possibly weaning, my milk supply possibly changing, and me feeling partly sad, partly happy, but mostly just accepting of it all. I’m content with where he is right now. He’s entirely nightweaned, he accepts his Daddy’s help when he wakes up at night (and sometimes going to sleep in the first place at bedtime), he nurses no more than once a day, and he himself seems quite fine with the whole thing.

While I choose not to actively wean my toddlers, nursing boundaries are definitely put in place along the way. Babies may not “twiddle”, a distracted baby will be given an opportunity to nurse at a later time when s/he is more focused on eating, a biter will immediately be set on the floor for a few seconds (and possibly be startled by my involuntary gasp or yell), older babies and toddlers must ask politely rather than tug on Mommy’s shirt for milk, and toddlers no longer get to nurse on demand – sometimes Mommy’s busy, and sometimes she just plain doesn’t wanna nurse you, hon. Because of my body’s sensitivity to nursing (extreme delayed return to fertility), I do limit nursing for toddlers slightly more than I perhaps would otherwise – morning, naptime, bedtime, nightwakings (though increasingly discouraged the older they get) and occasionally at one or two other moments during the day, but this is a gradual and gentle process that evolves along with the individual child. We tried, for example, nightweaning at a couple different points with the boy, only to find that he most definitely was not ready. When he was, the process went much smoother and with very little upset.

We’ve also found that a change in circumstances is a good time to change habits – moving to a toddler bed meant nursing for a while and then climbing into bed to sleep, rather than falling asleep while nursing as he used to. Moving to an entirely new house meant no more nursing in Mommy’s room – you can fall asleep in Mommy’s room, or you can have milk and fall asleep in your own room. Pregnant Mommy just can’t quite handle what she used to be able to, so we find options that we can both live with instead. It’s what we’ve always done, and I suppose it’s why I don’t feel as much worry as perhaps I should over the idea of adding another child to our family – we simply adjust the way we do things as they need to be. When something works well for us, we leave it. When circumstances change, we change it. “Flexible consistency”, I suppose I would call it. I know that things will change with a second child. Some of those changes we are already preparing for. Others we can’t do anything about until the baby arrives. The rest we can’t even begin to anticipate, having never experienced raising a toddler and a newborn before, but we can rest calmly in knowing that our lives will adapt to these changes, regardless of how much or how little we worry about the “how’s” and “what if’s” ahead of time.

Anyway! I can see the length of this entry is quite getting away from me. Time to leave some baby talk for another day – and time to get back to analyzing those strange feelings in my belly. Was that a tiny little baby kick??

I love this man

2009-06-25T14:04:00.004-04:00

My husband told me the other day, as he rubbed my bare belly, that he finds me even more irresistibly sexy when I’m pregnant, with all my curves and growing bump - after all, he said, isn’t that the whole point of sex? To form a child?

I love that my children have a father who sees them as a blessing and finds their ballooning mother to be attractive.

I feel the same sense of gratefulness and adoration every time he looks at our son and smiles, whispering to me, “he’s a pretty cool kid, isn’t he?” Every time he leans over to kiss him as he sleeps. Every time he scoops him up in his arms, throws him in the air, then hugs him tightly and tells him how much he loves him. Every time I see him kneeling down to talk gently to our son, teaching him how to grow into a godly man. Every time I get out of bed in the morning and watch the two of them automatically gravitate towards each other, snuggling while they sleep in for a while longer. I couldn’t ask for a better father for my children.

The boy and I gave him tickets to the monster truck show for Father’s Day. I made the mistake of telling the boy about it ahead of time, which resulted in a full day of asking for the monster trucks. I didn’t mention it again after that! More than a week later, I told the boy that I had picked up Daddy’s Father’s Day present. Thinking for a minute, he said, “fadder’s day…monster trucks!!” What a memory that kid has. Anyway, the two of them had a great Saturday afternoon watching the “big loud trucks!” They met up with some friends of ours there, so the boy made a new little friend (and hasn’t stopped talking about her since) and my husband got to talk to someone who wasn’t a toddler for once.

And I, meanwhile, enjoyed the most wonderful belated Mother’s Day. I had chocolate, a good book, a beautiful day, and more than three lovely hours in which to do nothing but relax. Ah, it was sweet.

We invited my family over for a Father’s Day barbecue the next day. I sought out some bison meat to surprise my husband with. We may not have a farmer’s market here, but I am seeking ways to buy local food when possible. I’ve found a local source for bison meat, deer meat, and fish so far. (Oh, and a local source for strawberries – our backyard! The boy and I were exploring the other day and discovered that our backyard is full of wild strawberry plants! I so love this country living stuff.) We enjoyed barbecued bison smokies, devilled eggs, potato wedges, and watermelon for supper. We finished the evening off with a long walk and warm fresh-baked cinnamon buns (my MIL’s recipe – many thanks!). We all had a really nice time.

I hope, though, that I can make my husband feel appreciated and cherished every day, not once a year. Sometimes I need to remind myself of that, those times when I catch myself starting to silently nit-pick at all the things I would do differently if I were still the one at home all day – but for now I’m not, and my son is still thriving despite those differences. For that, and so much more, I am grateful for this man - and grateful that for whatever crazy reason, he loves me too.

Sweet rewards

2009-06-19T12:18:00.003-04:00

Rain, blessed rain. I never thought the day would come when I would say such a thing.

As I’ve said, we dug a garden from scratch this year (with the permission of our landlords, of course – they had room to spare on the four acres of land). We weeded, had a very nice man till it for us, and planted it full of all sorts of vegetables – carrots, peas, radishes, tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, lettuce, spinach, and a few jalapeno pepper plants just for fun.

Then it came time to water it.

For the life of us, we could not find a faucet on the outside of the house to connect the hose to. So, while we waited for our landlords to tell us where it was, we hauled watering cans of water from the house to the garden – 9 trips each evening.

Well, they got back to us. No faucet. Beautiful house...but no faucet.

Le sigh.

We’ve had a rainy few days and so far have a few more rainy ones forecasted. For the first time ever, my sore arms and pregnant belly are grateful for the rain, as every shower saves me nine trips of lugging a heavy watering can to the garden.

Ah, but how sweet the rewards will be – homegrown vegetables...and nicely toned arms.

On returning to small-town living

2009-06-17T17:19:00.002-04:00

It’s funny how fast you forget what it’s like, this small-town living stuff. You’d think I’d remember after 21 years of living here and only 3 years away.

What a three years those were. I got married, had a baby, learned how to do for myself all those things that I’d never had the self-confidence to do before then. I missed my family back home, but the growth that happened in me during those years was worth it all.

Now I’m back – temporarily, but back nonetheless.

And remembering just what it was like.

I miss my farmer’s market. I miss our toy lending library. I miss all the programs, all day, every day, including weekends. Even though I’m not a big shopper, I miss all the stores. To sum it up, really, I miss having options. The option to buy food locally. The option to attend a magnificent variety of programs – shows, playgroups, workshops, all of it. The option to go out and buy a new shirt when I need one. Heck, I’m a bit ashamed to admit it, but I even almost miss Walmart.

And the people – wow. The gossip, the backstabbing, the viciousness, the small town politics. I remember how nervous I was when I first moved to the city, convinced that people there would be cold and hard and, well, mean. That ended up being the most surprising part of city life – the people were nice. There was very little gossip, none of the viciousness I’d grown accustomed to here, and a shocking lack of judgment towards others. It didn’t matter how you dressed or who you hung out with – people just accepted you as is, no questions asked.

I had to face the consequences of such small-town gossip just last week. Someone I don’t even particularly know was telling my co-workers that I was pregnant, despite me having not told anyone here, and despite me having not even told my supervisor yet. Because of the spreading rumour and my belief that it is unprofessional for your boss to hear such information second-hand or to be the last to know, I made the decision to tell my supervisor about the pregnancy much earlier than I had planned to, and only a day after one of his other employees had told him she was pregnant as well. What a marked difference to my experience in the same situation in the city, where a co-worker learned I was pregnant and kept the information to himself until I was ready to tell my boss and my other co-workers myself. It just boggles my mind that someone I don’t even know was discussing such personal information with my co-workers. Small-town living – where personal boundaries are all but non-existent.

Still, it’s not all bad here. The lack of options and boundaries aside, I do appreciate the quietness, the slower pace, and the neighbourliness. Just last week we were looking to borrow a roto-tiller for our freshly-dug garden. In the city we probably could have rented it from the hardware store, but here all I had to do was ask a friend if he had one. He was out of town at the time, so he had his brother come over on his tractor and till our garden for us – a job that would have been huge for us to do manually, but took him less than 10 minutes to do far better than we could have ever hoped. The little guy was thrilled to watch the tractor, and I was thrilled to spend the next evening filling the freshly tilled soil with all sorts of vegetable seeds and plants. Here was a man I’d never met before, taking the time to till our garden and refusing anything in return. I can’t say how grateful I am for his kindness.

So, I might not be able to buy the new pair of work sandals I so badly need, I might not be able to take my son to a playgroup or spend an evening with my husband at a concert, and I might have to learn how to deal with having everyone know my personal business for a few months, but it’s the people that make this town so homelike at the same time. There’s the lady at church who remembers when I first moved here at two years old, and now I’ve returned with a two year old of my own. There are the smiles and waves from everyone who walks by. There’s the peacefulness of a quiet walk to the park and the likelihood of stopping to chat with someone you know along the way. There’s the stranger who will drive over on his tractor to till my garden for me.

All in all, it’s really not so bad after all.

The most wonderful thing

2009-06-09T10:25:00.002-04:00

Two months ago, on April 7, I thought those two beautiful lines were the most wonderful thing in the world.

Yesterday we heard our baby’s heartbeat for the first time, a strong 156 beats per minute. And I changed my mind about the most wonderful thing in the world. To hear evidence that your baby is growing, thriving in your womb, is even more wonderful.

Come Christmas, I know it will change again with the birth of this precious child.

First smiles. First steps. First words.

It just keeps getting better and better.

On moving with a toddler

2009-06-05T16:59:00.002-04:00

Ah, moving with a toddler. Now there was an interesting experience.

The drive was about 35 hours long. I did it in three days when I moved to Ottawa originally, but I didn't have a two year old and a couple cats in the backseat, so we gave ourselves four days and said we'd stop when we needed to each night.

Surprisingly, though, we didn't need the four days. The little guy did amazing on the trip. We made it 10 hours on the first day. He fell asleep just before we were about to stop for the night on the second day, so we kept going, making it 15 hours that day. Another 10 hour push and we were home. He was pretty fed up by the last three hours of the trip, but unfortunately for all of us there was literally nowhere to stop! Ah, northern living. Fun stuff.

Honestly, I think the toddler did better than the cats. They were unhappy felines the entire trip. They refused to get out of the car to use the litter box or have food and water every time we stopped, so they went each long day with full bladders and empty stomachs. Lucky for them, they decided the hotel washrooms were an acceptable place to relieve and refuel themselves each night.

Just after leaving Ottawa, there were a few brief moments of "oh my, how are we going to survive this trip" when first one cat started meowing, and then the other – and then the toddler joined in. We both groaned at that point, with visions of 35 hours worth of three meowing voices. Fortunately, he lost interest in imitating the cats within a bearable span of time. The cats themselves kept it up for much longer (and received many a grumbled threat from my husband about leaving them on the side of the road to fend for themselves in the wild), but we're here, so we must have survived.

We had talked often with the little guy about our upcoming move in the month prior to it. We talked about saying goodbye to this house, driving to a new house, and seeing Grandma and Grandpa and all his aunties. He seemed to understand and he handled all of the changes with amazing calmness. The hardest part has been his repeated requests for two of his friends, Luke and "Liah" (Eliah). How do you tell a little boy that he'll never see his friends again, or at least not for a few years? So far he hasn't found any little friends to play with here, either, other than his four aunties (the youngest being only eight years old) – and even if he did, he'd only have to say goodbye to them again when we move to Vancouver in the fall. That is always the hardest part about moving, though - having to say goodbye to so many of the people you care about.

The brightest spot, on the other hand, was coming home to family. It has been such a blessing to see the little guy really getting to know his grandparents and aunties. I grin every single time I hear his excited squeal of "GAMPA!!!" when he sees us turn in his grandpa's driveway. It just melts my heart. I've been enjoying spending time with the oldest of my little sisters (she's 23 now), and, of course, with the rest of my family. It will be hard to say goodbye in the fall. While we don't have family in Vancouver itself, my in-laws are all in the area and, I'm sure, itching to visit whenever they can. I know Jacob will miss "Gampa" and all the rest horribly, but he loves his Opa and Oma and two aunties too. Hopefully we will be able to see them often.

And then, come Christmas, he'll have a new little brother or sister to get to know. How blessed we are.

We are so happy with our new home here. It's hard to believe we were paying slightly more rent for our little condo back in Ottawa as we are for this three bedroom, two level house now. It sits on four acres of land and is just outside of town, about a 10 minute drive to my workplace. Country living has been wonderful. With both of us being introverts, the extra privacy and quietness is great, and our huge yard has gotten lots of use already. There are little shoes filled with sand from the sandbox, sweatshirts that smell of woodsmoke from the firepit, a freshly dug garden, and lots of land and forest to explore. We will miss it when it's time to leave.

We won't miss, though, the hard smelly water and the painfully s l o w Internet connection. You can't have it all, I suppose.

But how blessed we are to have so much.

When everything changes

2009-05-21T10:51:00.001-04:00

Bad blogger. Bad, bad, neglectful blogger. Shame on me.

Ah, but where to start. I'll have to stick to the short version, because the long version would simply be too, well, long.

First, we've moved halfway across the country. We're back in northern Manitoba, the same tiny little town my husband and I met and grew up in. Quite the experience, being back here again – but that would be the long version. Suffice it to say that the boy is loving having his "gampa", "gamma", and four aunties around to give him lots of attention, and we're loving the big beautiful house we're renting for the same price as our little condo back in the city. Oh, and we've dug up and are ready to plant our very first vegetable garden.

Second, and the reason for the move, I've returned (temporarily) to work full time while my husband becomes a full-time SAHD. I say temporary because we'll be moving again in the fall, the rest of the way across the country, to BC where my husband will be returning to school (electrical engineering) and I will again become a work-at-home mom. As my husband was unable to find work after the company he worked for shut down last June, I applied for and accepted an opportunity with a post-secondary educational institute here in Manitoba. While I could have returned to my former job full time in the city, it would have meant long days without seeing my son. Moving us here meant, in addition to having my family around, that I could come home every noon hour and spend some time giggling away with the little guy. It's not an optimal situation, but it seems to be working well so far – again, though, I'll try to stick to the short version.

Third (and arguably most exciting), we're expecting again! What a long year it was, waiting for this wonderful blessing. The baby is due mid-December, and we are planning a midwife-attended homebirth. We are so excited. I haven't been feeling too bad so far – bouts of mild nausea here and there, a definite lack of energy, not much interest in food – but nothing at all like my first pregnancy where I was horribly sick 24/7 for the entire first three months. I'll take the occasional mild morning sickness over that any day. We've been talking to the little guy about the baby, but I have no idea how much he really understands. Right now he'll say there's a baby growing in mommy's tummy and that he's going to share his milk with the baby. He's currently nursing 1-3 times a day – I don't plan to actively wean him at this point, but I won't be at all disappointed if he gives it up on his own! Fortunately I've had very minimal pain while nursing and no apparent change in my supply so far.

Well, that's the short version. I've got more to say – so much more – but I'll save it for later. Everything always seems to happen at once, doesn't it? I think I'm ready to settle back into the blogging world, though, now that we're settled in here. Settled in and waiting expectantly for a gloriously warm and exciting summer. Come soon, sun.

Knitting adorableness

2009-03-25T21:59:00.003-04:00

Last month I began knitting a pair of wool pants for the little guy. I intended to use it as a diaper cover, but wouldn't you know it, he was mostly out of diapers by the time I finished. Fortunately, they make adorable pants anyway.

This was my first foray into making clothing (other than hats and mitts). It was so much simpler than I expected, I'm kicking myself for putting it off so long!

I learned a few new techniques in the process, most notably short rows (I was a short row virgin before beginning this project) and provisional cast on. Fun stuff!

(Pre-blocking)

The Details

Pattern: Adorabubble Baby Britches (Ravelry; Etsy)
Yarn: Lion Brand 100% Wool in midnight blue
Needles: 4.5mm and 4.0mm
Mods and Specs: Custom sizing; enclosed i-cord drawstring waist, seed stitch cuffs.
Began: Feb 17, 2009
Finished: Mar 11, 2009

Current project - my first pair of socks!

Ah, Spring

2009-03-21T21:19:00.002-04:00

How I love thee.

It's the time of year where some people are out in shorts and sandals while others are still huddled inside parkas and winter boots. Me, I'm somewhere in the middle - still sticking to longer skirts, but I couldn't resist slipping out the sandals in place of the winter boots today. Ah, happy feet. I detest socks.

When my husband makes fun of me, I just remind him that Jesus wore sandals. Hence, I am more godly than he. *pats self on back*

I love the smell of spring - that warm and wonderful fresh spring smell. (Or is it the smell of melting dog poo and rotten leaves? Either way, I love it.)

I can feel my spirits rising already. The warm sun, the growing patches of grass, the warm breeze, the longer days, the warmer temperatures, the lack of biting cold, the warmth, the lack of snow, oh yes, and the warmth. Mostly the warmth. And the long walks where you come home feeling refreshed instead of wanting to die from the cold.

On the other hand, at least winters here aren't as bad as they were in northern Manitoba where I grew up. I haven't forgotten those -50C days that froze your nostrils and eyelids shut and left icicles on the men's mustaches. Woohoooo, those were the days. Is it any wonder I have such an aversion to winter?

Then again, the snow forts we built were pretty awesome.

Still - spring, glorious spring, is here at last, and I am one happy lady because of it.

Wouldn't it figure that next week the little guy and I are headed back to northern Manitoba - still firmly in the throes of winter - to visit my family? Ah well, goodbye sandals. I shall see you again when I return.

Adventures in nursing a toddler

2009-03-03T15:29:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, at my son's insistence, I breastfed a dinosaur. And then I had to nurse his car, too.

Definitely a new experience for me.

Today he discovered, for the first time, that he too has nipples. So he tugged them a couple times, signed "milk", then pointed to his chest.

I laughed myself silly while trying to convince him that he couldn't get milk out of those.

This kid's a riot.

Ash Wednesday

2009-02-25T15:22:00.002-05:00

Today we begin in earnest the preparation of our hearts for Easter. A dear friend of mine shared this wonderful quote about Lent:

Some years ago a friend of mine told me that he had urged his children to move beyond giving up candy to giving up some habit of sin that marked their lives. About halfway through Lent he asked the children how they were doing with their Lenten promise. One of his young sons had promised to give up fighting with his brothers and sisters during Lent. When his father asked him how it was going, the boy replied, "I'm doing pretty good, Dad—but boy, I can't wait until Easter!"

That response indicates that this boy had only partly understood the purpose of Lenten "giving up." Lent is about conversion, turning our lives more completely over to Christ and his way of life. That always involves giving up sin in some form. The goal is not just to abstain from sin for the duration of Lent but to root sin out of our lives forever. Conversion means leaving behind an old way of living and acting in order to embrace new life in Christ.

My vision for this Lenten season is a time of refocusing my heart and my attitudes by spending more time in prayer and reading God's Word. With that as the foundation, I pupose also to use this season as a time of cultivating more of a servant's heart in my relationships, and in particular my marriage.

This has been a difficult past 8 months for us with my husband unemployed and I have begun to recognize much bitterness and anger within me. It is that bitterness and anger that I want to root out, to give up, replacing it with a giving heart and gentle spirit, which I know I can only do through the power of God.

My desire is a living faith, a faith which is demonstrated through the fruit and good works which arise naturally out of a loving relationship with our God.

How will you use this Lenton season?

Finding my place

2009-02-21T23:23:00.002-05:00

(This is a bit of a continuation of my last post.)

These past two years have been years of discovery and change, to the point where I no longer feel at home, well, anywhere within the Christian community.

I suppose, though I now cringe to admit it, I would previously have described myself as being on the very conservative side of conservative Christianity. If it was "conservative", I was there - and the more conservative, the better. And clearly anyone who disagreed with some part of conservative Christianity was just using that as an excuse to not have to be obedient in that particular area - a sentiment I still hear almost daily from the conservative side of Christianity.

Gratefully, and by the mercy of God, I no longer feel that way myself. Slowly I began to see the things that weren't quite "right" with that ultra-conservative ideology - first one thing, then another, then more and more until what I had previously felt at home with now looked so completely foreign to me that I could no longer abide with it.

Now I see it everywhere. It seems glaringly obvious to me, this ideology that appears so "biblical" on the surface and yet, digging deeper, is often nothing more than excess burdens imposed by man, a need to keep up with the Joneses, a competition, mere outward appearance.

I know I linked to this series in my previous entry, but Taunya really hit the nail on the head early on in her first installment of The Marketing of the Titus 2 Woman:

This month we must wear skirts only, the next we must purchase an 1868 dictionary, the next we must only read from the King James version of the Bible, the next month KJV is out and it must be the ESV or else we are reading heresy. By the middle of the year we must change our homeschooling curriculum because the one we are using is not Christian enough, by early summer we must all have our children stop dating and read the latest book on courtship, by mid-summer we are going to hell if our daughters even look at a college with interest. By then end of summer even our sons need to stay out of college in favor of an apprenticeship. By fall we must all put on clothes from the 1860's and admit that the South was right all along and Lincoln is the worse thing to ever befall this great nation of ours. By Thanksgiving we had all better be trying to have as many children as the Duggars (currently they have 18) or else we are not as godly as we think we are. By Christmas if we find we cannot have that many children we had better adopt that many. By New Years we need to have all of our children (dressed alike I might add) lined up according to size and ready to leave our church of 10 years to head to that Family-Integrated one down the road. What is a Family-Integrated church? Wow! if you don't know you aren't as godly as you thought you were. Finally and most importantly our husband must immediately be able to teach us and our children theology on a seminary level or else he is clearly a backslidder who does not love his family!

The hardest part in untangling it all is that it is all based - very loosely! - on biblical principles. Start with one verse or biblical principal, ignore the context, build up a whole set of rules around it, and presto! One more man-made burden to take on in the name of being "godly" - and shake your head ruefully at any who don't jump on the bandwagon right behind you.

So much of it I can no longer stomach. The patriocentric movement. The quiverful movement. The "biblical method" of parenting - I feel physically sick to read some of the descriptions. (And these are parents who truly love their children and mean well, earnestly desiring to raise godly children! If only they could see the damage they are doing - like the quivering daughters they leave behind.) The proliferation of "Titus 2" and "Biblical Womanhood" and "Biblical Femininity" writings, and the even greater abundance of women who form their ideas of biblical living based on such writings, turning their families' lives upside down every time they step away from the newest blog post or book. The "one size fits all" approach to everything. Our ("godly") way or the highway. The legalism that drenches it all.

As I said, I could never feel at home there again. Which is funny, because I do most of the things they preach - I just do them for different reasons, and I don't believe they should necessarily be universally applied to all Christians. I am a skirt-wearing, birth-control-avoiding, homeschooling, living-lightly mama with a marriage that most conservatives would approve of. And yet I firmly disagree with patriarchy, I don't believe it is a sin to take steps to conceive or to avoid conception provided the couple is following the promptings of the Holy Spirit and not the flesh, I don't think it is sinful for women to wear pants, and I understand that someone can be both Christian and send their children to public schools!

But I don't fit in with the liberal end of Christianity either. I do believe there is Absolute Truth. I do believe there is one way to God, through Jesus Christ, His Son and our Saviour. I do believe the Bible is true, inerrant, and historically factual. I do believe that homosexuality is a sin - while sincerely loving the person and welcoming them into fellowship. I do believe there are fundamental differences between a man and a woman - while wholeheartedly rejecting the teachings of patriarchy.

The evangelical movement. The health and wealth gospel. The emergent movement. I can't find any footing in any of them either. There seems to be no one set "type" of Christian that I can identify with - and many days I am so disappointed by what I see in the church that I wish there was some other way altogether of identifying myself as a follower of Jesus Christ.

(And, of course, there is no one defined "conservative" or "liberal" or "evangelical" or "emergent" or "_____" Christian - there are all sorts of people within each - which only makes it harder to find solid footing or to discuss any particular ideology in any sort of fruitful manner.)

Sometimes it can be difficult to avoid throwing out the baby with the bathwater, if you'll pardon the cliché, but I have sought earnestly to be cautious that, while turning away from the extrabiblical principles of conservative Christianity, I don't leave behind the true biblical principles at the same time. So that's where I'm at right now - continually digging, searching, praying, looking for the Truth in a religion that has strayed so far from where it should be. Walking away from religous teachings and back to the Bible and the welcoming arms of the Creator Who left it for us. Giving my life to God, not to a movement or doctrine.

Relearning Grace - grace from God, grace for others, and grace for myself.

Grace, sweet grace.

If I was Jesus

2009-02-15T23:34:00.001-05:00

My husband and I were listening to the Christian radio station in the car recently when the song "If I was Jesus" came on. Apparently it's a Toby Keith original, but has recently been popularized by Paul Colman. I'd never heard it before, but I loved it right from the first line. Before it was finished, I had declared it (much to my husband's amusement) my New Favourite Song.

Because it's just so true.

If I Was Jesus

If I was Jesus, I’d have some real long hair
A robe and some sandals, is exactly what I’d wear
I’d be the guy at the party, turnin’ water to wine
Yeah me and my disciples, we’d have a real good time.

Ooh and I’d lay my life down for you
And I show you who’s the boss
I’d forgive you and adore you
While I was hangin’ on your cross
If I was Jesus.

I’d have some friends that were poor
I’d run around with the wrong crowd, man I’d never be bored
Then I’d heal me a blind man, get myself crucified
By politicians and preachers, who got somethin’ to hide.

Ooh and I’d lay my life down for you
And I show you who’s the boss
I’d forgive you and adore you
While I was hangin’ on your cross
If I was Jesus.

If I was Jesus, I’d come back from the dead
And I’d walk on some water, just to mess with your head
I know your dark little secrets, I’d look you right in the face
And I’d tell you I love you, with Amazing Grace.

Ooh and I’d lay my life down for you
And I show you who’s the boss
I’d forgive you and adore you
While I was hangin’ on your cross
If I was Jesus.

If I was Jesus.

Luke 7:34 The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and you say, "Here is a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners."

Is it weird that one of the things I love about Jesus is that He had that reputation? He wasn't worried about appearances. He drank wine. He hung out with the "wrong crowd". He wasn't caught up in The Rules. How often did the Pharisees try to accuse Jesus of breaking their Law for doing things like - *gasp* - healing on the Sabbath?

Jesus was so different from the Pharisees. But I look at the Christian church now and see more Pharisee than Christ. I don't know whether to laugh or cry at the thought of Jesus coming to sit down in the typical Sunday morning church service - the disapproving looks he'd get over his long hair and lack of "Sunday best", the whispers about having seen him last night hanging out with Johnny Sinner, and oh didn't you know he's rumoured to be a drunk? And then we wonder why those who aren't Christians want nothing to do with our God. Honestly, I don't blame them one bit. If I were on the outside looking in, I'd want nothing to do with Him either. I'm so grateful that I already know His amazing love and grace and could never turn away from that, no matter what I see in those who claim to follow Him.

But at the same time, I know that most of us mean well, truly believe we are doing "the right thing", sincerely love our God even as we stumble along the path in our attempts to follow Christ. The church may have gone horribly astray over the years, but it consists of humans - sinners who have been saved by grace. Not perfect people - sinners. Different from those outside not by anything we have done, but merely by our acceptance of what Christ did for us.

So many of us, in our earnest desire to be more godly, have fallen prey to those "wolves in sheep's clothings" (Matthew 7:15), those false prophets who would turn our eyes and hearts from God's Word even as we seek to move closer to it. Thatmom recently wrote a very convicting post on why we must vocally and publically speak out against these false prophets, just as they have vocally and publically spread their lies and venom amongst God's children, blinding their eyes and stopping their ears to the Truth of the Gospel.

In a similar vein, Taunya has written an excellent series entitled The Marketing of the Titus 2 Woman (Parts One, Two, Three, Four, and Five still to come) that also speaks to the idea of our increasing propensity to form our beliefs based on what we are told by others rather than on what God's Word tells us. This series is particularly timely as there seems to be an increase in "Christian fads" - the monthly "new thing" (read: extra-biblical rule) that you must do in order to be a "real and godly Christian" - though perhaps in many ways this truly is an age-old problem.

After all, "there is nothing new under the sun" (Ecclesiastes 1:9).

I have more to ponder and share along this line, but I'm starting to feel rambly and this seems like a good place to pause for the time being. I just so enjoyed this song, this "irreverent" picture of the Jesus I so love, the Jesus I long for others to know, the radical with a reputation as a sinner-loving wine-bibber.

And sinner-lover He is. Jesus, friend of sinners, who came for the lost.

Matthew 9:10-13 While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew's house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, "Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?" On hearing this, Jesus said, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. But go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.' For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners."

Big boy underwear!

2009-02-12T22:43:00.005-05:00

We had a big potty learning milestone today - our first poo in the toilet! (And by "our" I mean "his". I've been quite proficient at pooing on the toilet for a couple decades now.)

I remember reading a quote somewhere, long ago, about how God made poo stink because otherwise mothers would be so proud of their children's first poos that they'd try to save it. Too true, too true.

Anyway.

He's been doing amazing on the toilet ever since hubby went back to work. His one week temporary job was extended for another week, so the little guy and I have had two weeks now to get back into a really good routine. I really struggle with that when my husband's home 24/7. But suddenly the little guy is almost completely potty trained (telling me when he needs to go, staying dry all day except naps, and able to stop himself right away if he does start to have an accident), we're eating much healthier and more regularly, he's picking up all sorts of new concepts, we're getting out a lot more, and I'm just really enjoying him in a new way. It's hard to explain. I've always enjoyed him - I think he's pretty much the most amazing boy ever - but these past couple weeks have been even more fun. It's been really good for us, and he's clearly flourishing. It's neat to see.

So to celebrate his amazing job on the potty (and his first poo there!), we went out this evening and bought big boy underwear! We got a package of Cars undies, a package of trucks undies, and a couple of the old school waffle weaves. He was giddy with excitement. He had to put them on the minute we got home. And then take them off and try another pair. And then take those ones off and try another pair. Then he was satisfied for the rest of the evening.

I'm really proud of him. And not just for this - for everything. It's just amazing to watch him grow. He's such a sweet kid, so great when we go out, always complimented on how good he is, SO SO funny (I laugh SO MUCH because of him), just great. It's been fascinating to watch him grow into toddlerhood, and I can't wait to see the boy and man he becomes.

When the cat's away...

2009-02-06T16:03:00.006-05:00

What a week this has been! My husband, who has been unemployed for seven months, had a week-long temporary job. I love that man dearly, but I find it hard to keep a good house with him around 24/7.

A week without him has left my house mother-in-law ready. It's that clean.

The kitchen is scrubbed, clean (including the inside of my toaster) and completely reorganized. I feel like I have so much extra room in there now! I even tackled the top of my fridge.

Before:

After:

I sorted through the boy's toy baskets, tossing out all the miscellaneous "stuff" that had collected in there. Even though his baskets were suddenly much emptier, he has rediscovered all of his favourite toys and been playing with them much more often. Less is, indeed, often more.

I *coughputawaytheChristmasdecorationscough*, but we won't talk about that. Because it's February. And ow, my pride.

I cleaned and reorganized and tidied and cleaned some more. I have this odd desire to dance around my house now.

And the boy and I! We had so much fun.

I made a batch of playdough using a recipe a friend had given me. He played with this frequently and for nice long stretches of time, which I took full advantage of to get more cleaning done (and some web surfing...and some playdough playing...because who can resist playdoh?). I made a playdoh snowman, which the boy insisted needed a hat - so a hat was made. I give you, Cowboy Playdohman:

And Cowboy Playdohman after a few modifications done by said boy:

We played with bubbles (while Mommy washed the dishes).

We went outside! In the snow! For hours!

We walked to the produce market and picked up all sorts of wonderful fruits and veggies (and the obligatory yogurt, which the boy would eat several times a day if I let him). We tried our very first blood orange, which, though the name has always turned me off, was very good. We bought bananas, battered though they tend to be in the winter, with plans to make banana muffins in a couple days.

I hate to sound so giddy about having my darling husband out of the house for a few days - but seven months! You can't blame a girl, really.

Kool-Aid Playdough

2 1/2 cups Flour
1/2 cup salt
2 small packages of Kool-Aid
3 tablespoons of oil
2 cups boiling water

1. Mix flour, salt, oil and kool-aid until blended
2. Add boiling water, mix with spoon until cool enough to knead, knead until colour is well mixed
3. Store in air tight container or bag in the fridge.

2 years ago yesterday...

2009-02-04T19:39:00.003-05:00

I married my childhood sweetheart.

I'm so grateful to have him in my life. He is patient, kind, supportive, honest, goofy, and intelligent. We balance each other out perfectly, in so many ways, and my life is all the richer and better with him in it.

When I was a kid, I swore up and down that I was never getting married, I was simply going to adopt a child and live happily ever after, just the two of us. I have to say, I'm glad I changed my mind. I'd have missed out on one amazing husband - and my child would have gone without an incredible father.

We had a lovely dinner out yesterday, then came home and spent the evening snuggled in bed watching Fireproof. It wasn't without its cheesy moments, but it was quite good overall. (We were both pleasantly surprised.)

Shortly after it ended, our son woke up, staggered sleepily into our room, climbed into bed and the three of us snuggled down together for the night. I am so blessed to have both those guys in my life.

Here's to another happy year together, and the promise of more to come - "until death do us part". Cheers!

Delightful boy

2009-01-31T15:28:00.003-05:00

It's been amazing, this whole motherhood thing, watching my baby boy grow from a scrunched up newborn to a rambunctious toddler. Every day now brings something new - a new skill, a new word, a new way to make us laugh, a new challenge to tackle, a new joy to discover.

His favourite family activity right now? Hiding under the blankets - all of us, at the same time. I can't think of anything that makes him happier than having all three of us giggling away with a blanket over our heads. Our own private family fort.

His favourite words remain "fall" and "crash" - he is a boy, through and through. A delightful, squealing, rough-and-tumble boy. Having grown up with four younger sisters, I have to say, I love having a boy.

(And wow, would I ever love having a girl too.)

Likewise, his favourite toys are still cars. His Oma made him a wonderful quilted car mat for Christmas, which he has been loving.

He's starting to count along with us now. He's been "counting" things for a while (pointing while we count), but now he's starting to say the words too. I've been asking him to say his name lately, which sometimes results in a whispered "Ja!" but always results in a fit of giggles. Apparently, it is very funny to ask him to say his name. Who knew?

Pretty much, I just love this little guy.

It's heeeeere!

2009-01-31T11:20:00.006-05:00

My very first post partum period - only 21 months (and nine days...but who's counting?) after my son was born!

Which means we are now *officially* trying to conceive, after several months of "unofficially" trying/hoping. Time to stock up on pregnancy tests!! Oh, I hope it happens quickly.

(Feel free to skip the following TMI: I was pleasantly surprised at how fine I felt when my period started! Pre-baby, I was horribly horribly sick every time my period arrived, to the point where I passed out a couple times. I dreaded it each and every month. This time around I had no warning whatsoever, other than being incredibly exhausted for a couple days beforehand. Oh, and you know what finally brought it back? I had just bought some nice new white underwear. Seriously, I thought that when I bought them - this will be the week my period returns, just because I'm wearing nice new white underwear. You know, Murphy's Law and all. Anyway. TMI over.)

Even though our children will now be further apart age-wise than I had hoped they would be, I do still fully believe it was worth it to continue to nurse my toddler. It was disappointing that my body was so sensitive to that, but worth it nonetheless. Even just two weeks ago, when he was so very sick that all he did was lie on my knee and cry, he wouldn't eat or drink anything but at least he still nursed (like a freakin' newborn!). He recovered quickly, though it took him a few days to get back to his old good-natured and silly self, but the fact that he would still nurse took away so much worry that we would have had otherwise.

And then, kind boy that he is, he shared that illness with his father and I, so we both have colds and my husband feels like he's getting the flu as well. It just has not been a healthy few weeks for us! I don't know what's going on. We very rarely get sick, but lately it's just been one thing after another. I won't even tell you how many boxes of Kleenex we've gone through in the past two weeks.

I really need to get on top of this whole blogging thing again. I'm getting further and further stuck in the rut of ahh, I have so much to write about, I don't know where to start...so I just won't write at all! Maybe I'll do another NaBloPoMo again soon...or maybe I'll wait until tax season is over.

Anyway, I'm now having several plush animals stuffed onto my knee by a very amused toddler, so I'll admit defeat and end this entry. Have a lovely weekend!

Songs for Saplings

2009-01-18T07:44:00.004-05:00

One of Jacob's Christmas gifts from us this year was the CD Songs for Saplings. The CD contains Scripture set to song for each letter of the alphabet, plus a few extras at the end for various holidays and such. The songs are written and sung by Dana Dirksen, who began setting Scripture to music in order to help her own children memorize verses.

This CD is wonderful. I had looked for a CD of Scripture set to music a few months ago, bought one from a local Christian bookstore, listened to it once - and haven't picked it up again. It was awful. The music was bad, the Scripture references weren't included in the songs, and I just couldn't bring myself to listen to it again. This seems to be the trend in Christian material - the quality doesn't matter, just make something about God and you're set!

Songs for Saplings, on the other hand, actually is good. Jacob loves the CD and asks for it to be turned on several times a day - and if I'm going to have to listen to something that often (and have it stuck in my head even when it's not playing), it better not sound like some sort of horrible 80's rap that just happens to include the word "Jesus" and "Bible" in there a few times. This is definitely not that. The songs are cute, the music is great - and as an added bonus, I'm finally memorizing Scripture, something I've never been very good at.

This is an excellent tool for teaching young children biblical truths. I highly recommend it. The CDs are on sale right now, so it's as good a time as any to pick one up - or two or three, as they would make excellent baby shower gifts. (Just a note for those who live in Canada, you have to order through their international page.) They also have three "Questions with Answers" CDs, which I haven't ordered yet but likely will at some point. The series is aimed at children beginning at three years old and includes various questions and their answers in song format (you can listen to samples on their website). But for those with babies or toddlers, I can't recommend Songs for Saplings enough!

More illness

2009-01-17T16:31:00.002-05:00

This has not been a healthy past few weeks for us! My poor boy is snuggled up on my lap, blessedly sleeping - something he didn't do much of at all last night.

It seemed like he was just getting a bit of a cold (cough, runny nose), but now he's got a fever, vomiting, lots of crying when he's awake and sleeping in between - and his diapers! I'll spare you the details. He's pretty much down for the count right now and hasn't wanted to leave my arms since early last night.

Ah well. It's as good a day as any to slow down, relax, and snuggle my poor sick baby until he feels better again.

In the meantime, your prayers would be much appreciated. And if you could add one in there for my husband, he has a job interview on Monday. After six and a half months of being unemployed, this is welcome news indeed.

And a (very belated) Happy New Year!

2009-01-13T23:53:00.003-05:00

Ah, home.

My bed. My pillow. My son's bed and pillow. My food. My drinks. My oven. My books. My computer.

Ah, my computer.

The little guy seemed to feel the same way. As soon as we got back home, he walked around collecting all his toys and stuffed animals and blankets and sat down in his chair covered in them. It was so funny to see from a boy who doesn't usually seem particularly attached to any toys!

Things are finally starting to settle back down into a nice routine after our three week vacation. We arrived back home last Thursday at 2:00 in the morning, thanks to some flight delays (making it a 15 hour trip from the time we left my in-laws to the time we walked in our door). The little guy did amazingly well for a 20 month old confined to a carseat or lap most of the day. I wouldn't describe it as "fun" by any means, but it was about as well, if not better, than could be expected.

The holidays were definitely fun, though. We spent a week and a half with my parents in Manitoba followed by a week and a half with my in-laws in British Columbia.

Fun, yes, but also very sickly.

My husband Isaac had a cold for the first couple days.

Then my youngest sister got the flu, which she promptly passed on to my second youngest sister.

My son Jacob got it next, resulting in a Christmas Eve spent alternating between sleeping and throwing up all over his dad. (I admit it, I wasn't complaining when, after spending an hour napping on me, Jacob woke up, squirmed a couple times, asked for his dad and promptly threw up all over him.)

On Christmas morning, my sister-in-law's cat had to be put down.

My grandpa died a couple days after Christmas, the same day my grandma left our house to head back home to him. She says it's a guilt she'll have to learn to live with for the rest of her life (my grandpa was in a nursing home - my grandma has taken care of him every day for years, and finally she takes a trip away and he dies before she gets back - which is not her fault at all but no one has yet been able to convince her of that).

The day we left Manitoba to head to BC, I got my husband's cold, which ended up being the worst cold I have ever had. The plane ride was miserable thanks to my clogged ears, which didn't unclog until the next day, and I spent the next few days blowing my nose every five minutes.

After I got my husband's cold, I got my son's flu and spent the day throwing up.

Then my sister-in-law got the flu.

Then my other sister-in-law got the flu.

Then my mother-in-law got the flu.

Then - surprise! - my father-in-law got the flu.

My sister-in-law also got the cold I brought with me, spending a few days attached to the Kleenex box herself.

And just to end the trip off with one more thing, Jacob hurt his ankle and spent the next two days limping around. (He actually thought this was hilarious though - even immediately after it happened, he tried to walk, fell, laughed, tried to walk, fell, laughed, tried to walk, fell...and then cried. And then it got funny again later when it didn't hurt so bad - especially when he tried to run and ended up with this funny limping run that usually resulted in more falling.)

Oh, and Isaac also gave his cold to his aunt as well, who we stayed with overnight on the way to and from Manitoba.

I think that about covers our sickly holidays. It was crazy, day after day of someone being sick (or worse) - but it did force us to spend a lot of time lazing around the house instead of doing all of the activies we had planned to do. Which was nice, I think. And despite all of the illness, I'd still definitely say that our holidays were fun.

The two visits were so different. There was my family, which this year included my parents, my grandma, and my four younger sisters (7, 10, 12 and 23). Jacob got a bus that (very loudly) sings The Wheels on the Bus, a truck that (very loudly) makes various truck sounds, and many other things. Jacob attached himself to my youngest sister (who is only 7 years old), following her around everywhere. My poor sisters are jealous of both my son and my husband, as they both take some of my attention away from them, but I did try to spend as much time focusing on them as I could. It's hard to live so far away from them when they're so young.

Then there was my husband's family, which included his parents and two younger sisters (19 and 23). Jacob got a lovely handmade quilt/activity mat, some wooden toys, and many other things. Jacob was fascinated by my youngest SIL's bedroom, which was unfortunate because he wasn't actually allowed to go in there - so every once in a while he'd run off in that direction giggling madly because maybe this would be the time he could get in there unnoticed! He really needs to work on the quiet aspect of sneaking away to get into trouble, silly child. He mastered the stairs while at their house (we don't have stairs in our home so he hasn't had much practice), rolled his first bowling ball, learned how to peal an orange, and - his father's proudest moment so far - began to recognize and say "hockey". He's a true Canadian now!

Now we're back home, disappointed anew that we live so far away from both families. I do hope that will change someday - but for now, we all live where we live and will make the best of it, visiting whenever we can.

I hope the holidays were good for you all, and I wish you all the best in this new year.

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-28T18:59:00.002-05:00

I'm late, I know, but Merry Christmas to you all!

It's been an insane past week and a half with my family, and the next week and a half with my in-laws will be equally insane. We really have to convince both our families to move closer to us! It has been wonderful to see everyone though. Lots to say as soon as I have more than a couple free minutes in a row!

Best wishes for 2009!

Passing the buck

2008-12-17T01:28:00.002-05:00

My husband and I both have a bit of an, er, "weakness" as far as books go. Passing by a bookstore without going inside is quite the trial.

But now we can totally pass the buck when it comes to this.

There's a shopping plaza near our home with a very large bookstore. Our son already knows what's inside. We can't even walk by it without him exclaiming books! books! and trying to pull us towards the door. This kid loves books.

And we love that he loves books.

But even more than that, we love that we can now blame our vices on our kid.

Rock on, child.