So as most of you know, I am a teacher. I spend most of my year, especially the crazy spring months, saying that “I will have more time for (insert task here) in the summer. I just have to make it to the end of June and I will be a whole new woman. The woman I know I can be!” I truly believe that I will have more time to spend with my kids, more time to clean, organize my home, see friends, read, cook, tan, exercise in the summer. I would like to officially call bullshit on this. The summer is halfway over, and I have not enough to show for it.
Sure, I have read a couple of books. I went to Ottawa and saw my family and some dear friends. I went to a museum or two. Took my kids to the beach in our community. I have even sat down once or twice and played with my own children. But, is my kitchen clean? Is the laundry done? Have I wiped my baseboards? Updated my blog? Have I spent quality time with all my friends? Have I made up for lost time with my kids? Am I less exhausted? The answer is a resounding NO!!!!
Evidence:
I am still tired. So, so, so tired. I have napped. It doesn’t work. I’ll keep trying.
My house is a disaster. Literally. I would rather die than have someone come over and see how I am currently living.
My kids are still guilt tripping me about not spending enough time with them. I went out the other night for a couple of hours for drinks with friends and my daughters were wailing at the door like abandoned orphans. I swear I had just spent the whole day with them!
I have no clean clothes. I had to buy underwear to have clean stuff to wear.
My blog hasn’t seen a new post since April. Sorry to the half dozen people who read it. I love you.
I haven’t seen some friends that I swore I would make time for.
So you see – life in the summer is just as busy as life during the school year. Or maybe I just over-committed and overestimated what summer could mean.
So, last week we packed up (and by that I mean I packed) and flew the kids to Cabo San Lucas to rub elbows with Jennifer Aniston by the pool. Except that Jennifer Aniston never showed up. WTF? Anyhoo, we showed up and had tons of fun. There were a few bumps along the road, but aren’t there always? Here is how it all went down.
We woke up at the civilized and not at all excruciating hour of 2 am to get the kids in the car and to the airport by 4 to catch our flight at 6 am. It all went remarkably well. We assumed the kids would sleep so we could doze on the 4 hour flight, but that only happened half way. The littlest, most uncooperative one never complied and was wide awake the whole time. Awesome. We arrived in Cabo excited but exhausted. She slept for about 25 minutes in the car on the way to the resort. That should do it, right?
We got to the resort at about 11 and were told we couldn’t have our room until 4. Faack! We were able to use the guest change room to get in to our bathing suits and go to the pool to pass the time. So, it was the hottest part of the day, we had exhausted kids, and there were no cozy beds to be had. Oh well. We made the most of it, started ordering pina coladas and guacamole and chips STAT and played in the kids’ pool for FOUR HOURS!!! There was an amazing towel guy/waiter who made our afternoon feel pampered and relaxed. He supplied toys for the kids and lots of drinks for us.
We made it through the afternoon, but then the wheels fell off: My parents, who had organized this whole trip (to include us, them and my sister as a family getaway), emailed to say that their flight had been CANCELLED!!! Oh no!!! I was devastated. It was like Santa Clause not coming to Christmas! R had so been looking forward to seeing them, had been counting the days off on her Fancy Nancy calendar, and was promised her grandparents damn it! I was so sad. But, we soldiered on, finally got our room and took naps knowing that when we woke up Auntie J would be there and more fun could ensue!
Well, some fun ensued. Something I learned about R on this trip is that she doesn’t deal with transition very well. She was out of her element and didn’t like the idea of going from one place to another. This was hard on most days as we often had multiple things planned. Once she got used to the idea of being in one place, we moved her to another activity. She coped with this by asking, very frequently, to go home. Nothing could have pissed me off more. More on this later.
Auntie J arrived in the late evening and we went to dinner at a lovely rooftop restaurant at the resort and we ordered nummy Mexican delights for us, and chicken nugget for the kids. They didn’t eat anything. This would be a recurring theme. The restaurant had lovely mexican blankets on the backs of the chairs in case we got cold – a very civilized and pampering touch! Loved it! I was thrilled to see my sister and we had a good time in spite of the whining, crying, overtired kids. We went to bed after dinner and hoped against hope that our parents would show up the next day. We hoped in vain, people!
Next day. Cabo has a Walmart. Seriously people? It actually has two. I wasn’t prepared for this. Anyhoo. We took a cab to Walmart and stocked up on breakfast and lunch stuff that we could prepare in our rooms and came back for naps and fun in the sun. We went back to the kids pool for a bit before dinner. We went to another dinner at another lovely restaurant, this time with ponchos on the backs of our chairs. See video and pics of that dinner. My tired baby was dancing happily on the lap of her daddy for most of the dinner. She was happy as long as she could stuff her gob with bread. Also, check out the view.
After our first full day, we were ready and almost trembling in anticipation for Gma and Gpa’s arrival the next day. They arrived at about 2 pm and then the party really got started. Here we are enjoying drinks and snacks pool side!
With everyone finally here, we planned a variety of activities including a dinner for M, Auntie J and myself at a restaurant in Cabo proper that featured authentic Mexican dishes. We may or may not have polished off 12 churros and two pieces of quatros leches cake. I’m not going to tell. But, it was delicious.
Here are a few more pictures from that dinner. We watched the sun set and a cool pirate ship come in to the marina all lit up and glowing. Those seem to be present at any vacation destination where there is water. What gives?
Mike and my dad went deep sea fishing – no pictures of that trip as I was not on board. By this time, poor K had developed what I now know was a doozy of a chest cold, maybe bronchitis or even croup. She had started wheezing at night the night we went out for dinner and my parents were watching her. By Wednesday night she had to sit up with one of us to sleep as she couldn’t breathe lying down. It was scary. We thought she was developing asthma or allergies and were on the verge of taking her to a doctor, but some cold medicine was purchased and seemed to keep her somewhat happy for a few hours at a time at least. Poor muffin. And poor us – it made for some crappy sleeps which made it harder to enjoy the days and to be patient for the inevitable meltdowns.
We went in to Cabo as a whole family to see the Arch (or El Arco de Cabo San Lucas). It was breathtaking. It is located at the southernmost point of the Baja Peninsula, also known as Lands End. It is where the Pacific Ocean meets the Sea of Cortez and it makes for some rough seas but beautiful sightseeing. We were dropped off at a beach where we snorkeled for a little bit and saw some amazing fishies. See if you can see the rock known as Scooby Doo.
The rest of the trip consisted of sightseeing in San Jose Del Cabo – a quieter town featuring the typical roadside shops and local artisans. A nice church from the time of the missionaries in the area – the 1700s. I bought too much stuff.
We went out to dinner for my sister’s birthday to a five star restaurant, Pitahayas, which was part of the resort. It was amazeballs! Four courses, amazing wine, palate cleansers, waiters draping your napkin for you and everything. We were feeling pretty special! Check out the roof of the restaurant!
There were a few things that threw a wrench in to our vacation. I don’t want to dwell on the negative, but those things often bring out the best in us, or the worst and the snarkiest. You be the judge:
There were never enough towels. We had to use towel cards to get towels at the pools and we often had to wait until we were done swimming to receive towels because the other guests were hoarding them. Assholes.
We tried to rent a car for our day out in Cabo and they promised us a 7 seater but we had to make do with 2 smaller cars that showed up two hours too late. When I was sweating my ass off trying to put in the car seats in a small VW Passat my sister asked if I needed any help, and I responded by saying ‘no thanks, but I am sure all the bell boys can see my entire ass’. Oh well! My sister stepped up and braved Mexican traffic and drove the second car.
R was not convinced that she was enjoying being there. She took the opportunity many times a day to say that she didn’t want to be there and wanted to go home to Calgary. I actually heard myself saying “You are going to have fun dammit!” There is nothing more frustrating than planning and paying for an extravagant trip and then having your three year old bitch about it the whole time! She actually had a lot of fun and almost learned to swim by herself!
There was a policy that was posted EVERYWHERE including on all lounge chairs that patrons were not permitted to reserve chairs for longer than 45 minutes. This didn’t stop most people from coming down at 7 am and putting towels (that they had undoubtedly been hoarding) on the loungers with a hotel magazine and leaving them there for hours until they got their lazy asses out of bed to come down and laze around in the sun. On our last full day in Cabo we were looking to spend some time in the pool and had been trolling around for almost 2 hours looking for a spot to sit. There was a pair of chairs that hadn’t been used since 9 am and it was 10:30 and we thought it was high time someone made use of these chairs. No one at the hotel was enforcing the policy so we asked around to see if anyone had been using the chairs and the general consensus was that no one had been, so we moved the towels and set up camp. Lo and behold, an hour later (which makes 2 hours away from the chairs) a crazy bitch came strutting down the stairs and said “Dude, we have a problem here!”. What came after that can only be described as crazy and demented. This woman was putting her finger in my mother’s face and my face telling us that we had disrupted the status quo, and it was an understood practice among the patrons that this was the way things were done. She wanted me to acknowledge that I had crossed the line and had been rude in displacing her two towels. She was upset that she and her husband now had to find another place to sit and was essentially bitching me out in front of my family and my kids. Well, most of you who know me can imagine how that went. I calmly sat in MY lounge chair and held my ground. I may or may not have called her “rich and self-entitled”. Well, turns out she wasn’t rich, but I stand by the self-entitled comment. What a biatch. I let her have it, told her to get her hand out of my and my mother’s faces and told her that just because everyone was doing it doesn’t mean that she should too. If she wanted me to assuage her guilt and give her permission to break the rules and for me to admit that I was wrong, she was barking up the wrong tree. Crazytown. She stomped off and my day was officially soured. It took me a good few hours to get over it, but I was fine by dinner that night. My dad rightly pointed out that she was just one person and that there had actually been a few families that had given up chairs for us when they noticed us hunting around for a spot to sit. Those people are lovely and represent the norm. That crazy bitch was an ass and needed to fall in the pool. Notice I didn’t say “get pushed”?
Our last dinner was at the Cortez restaurant on the property and I had Lobster Two Ways and almost died on my plate. It was fantastic. We saw the moon rise as an orange globe floating above the horizon. It was a once in a lifetime sight. Rebecca loved the jazz singer that was performing and Kate ate bread.
Overall, we were lucky to have been there. We had a wonderful time, all glitches aside, and we look forward to doing it again in a few years. Here are a few more snaps:
I posted a while ago with some silly talk about losing a butt load of weight in time for a trip to Mexico. Did I mention that this blog is all satire and humour? I was purely joshing? I actually intended to gain weight? Oh, I didn’t? Shit.
Well, I actually meant it. I did try. Really, I did. I was on a clean eating diet for about 2 weeks. A bit more actually. I went all South Beach and cleans-y on my ass. I was working out at least 5 times a week. It was even starting to work. My chiropractor, upon grabbing my shoulders to release some car-accident pain, told me I felt ‘muscly’. My pants didn’t squeeze me like an angry waist-python. I was less bloated. So, why did I stop?
I got lazy, tired and bored. I wanted to eat something sweet and salty, preferably all in one (or twenty) bites. My willpower lost batteries and died a horrible, ice cream induced death.
I am going to try again. I am going to put down the leftover Valentines heart-shaped cookies I lovingly made with my daughter and go for a run. Tomorrow. Or the day after that. For reals.
I will let you know how it goes. Can I still lose 10 lbs before the last week of March?
I am planning on traveling with a toddler this spring and am not sure how to go about it. We have to fly to our destination and I wonder what I should be prepared for? How do you navigate airports, flights, wait times and the needs of a child (who is still in diapers)?
SIncerely,
Unsure How To Travel
Dear UHTT,
You should be prepared for a number of things:
The sneering and judgement of others. People don’t like children very much, especially young ones who can be loud and stinky. Make sure you have a few dirty looks of your own prepared as well as a few choice phrases such as: “What are you looking at asshole?”
Sweating. Traveling with children is an uncomfortable and sweaty process. You will have to load them and their things in and out of many vehicles over the course of your vacation and this will suck. You will also have to restrain your child from kicking and hitting when on the plane and this will hurt you a lot. Wear deodorant and loose fitting clothes in layers that you can rip off in frustration and stuff in your diaper bag or use as a blanket when your tired and frazzled child eventually passes out (I pray he or she does this at some point for your sanity’s sake).
A well-stocked diaper bag. I actually had a parent offer to pay me $5 for a diaper on a plane. You could smell her child from ten rows away and she was the only person on the plane happy to see me and my child because she knew we would have diapers. We did, and she was relieved. Don’t get caught short of anything because you will curse yourself and want to jump from the plane or lock yourself in the putrid bathroom.
Entertainment. Bring books, toys, stickers, headphones for the TV on the plane, iPods, iPads, or whatever you know your child loves and may keep him or her entertained for even a millisecond.
Food. For obvious reasons. A hungry child sucks.
Pack lightly. If you can manage to do that and all of the above, please let me know how you did this because I am pretty sure it is impossible.
If you can rent or borrow anything where you are going, do that. Try not to have to check strollers and car seats in at the airport. It is a pain in the ass and you have to stand in yet another line up for oversized baggage.
Drink lots upon arrival.
Good luck!
Sincerely,
RML
Dear Real Mom Lady,
I recently went on a trip and had to sit next to a mother and her child on the plane. It was really uncomfortable for me and unpleasant, to say the least. Her son screamed and cried during takeoff, wouldn’t sleep and threw his snacks everywhere. He even tried to grab for mine! What should I have done in this circumstance? Could I have asked to move? Told the mom what she should do?
Sincerely,
Frustrated Co-Traveler
Dear F-ing CT,
Yes, please ask to move. If you can’t handle a situation like that with some sympathy and tact, please move your ass somewhere else on that damn plane. I know it sucks to be seated next to the mom and baby, but it sucks even more to be the mom of that baby. Be kind, offer to share your snack with the damn kid, try to engage him or her (unless they are on the verge of sleep in which case you should not make eye contact and be completely still and silent), don’t roll your eyes and offer to share your tray with the mom who can’t lower hers for her glass of wine. If she hasn’t already ordered a glass of wine, order one for her. Don’t EVER offer her advice unless you have had a slew of children and have flown with them!
So, after my dramatic ending to 2012, I thought it only appropriate to make some changes for 2013. I posted over the summer about my body looking like a combination of dough and cottage cheese and the indulgences over the holidays (and the two months prior, let’s be honest) didn’t help the situation much. Now, I am not obese or really overweight for that matter. My weight falls within the normal range for BMI (although I think BMI is a crock of shit), I am tall, I have long legs and can camouflage things well with clothing, but I just want to tweak a few things. For starters, I have horrible eating habits. I could probably subsist on sugar and red dye #5 for days on end and not be unhappy. When I go out to eat I always give myself a talk and promise that I will eat a yummy salad and then I inevitably end up eating one or two appetizers, a main which usually contains bread or pasta, dessert and one or two glasses of wine. I cannot say no to my cravings. I love chips, cereal, ice cream, snack cakes, baking, cheese, Starbucks, Time Hortons, McDonald’s cheeseburgers and apple pies, milkshakes…. the list goes on. I do eat real food as well. Since I am cooking and caring for two young girls I most often make a healthy dinner with multiple food groups. M is also gluten free so our dinners are mostly sans wheat. I eat vegetables and fruit and proteins but I would rather eat junk food and rich foods. Any of you who have worked with me or gone to school with me know that I can eat for hours on end and that I am always craving something. I am one sick puppy.
Then there is exercise. I don’t love it per se. I know it has good effects on my body and psyche so I have been known to stick to a regime in the past. I trained for three 10K races and felt the changes in my body because of that work. It helped me reduce stress and the size of my thighs which was great. I just don’t really want to do it so it is the first thing to go when my lift gets busy. And yes, in case you were wondering, my life is hella busy right now.
You know as well as I know that when life craps all over you with car accidents, stress and work overload that it is important to live healthily in order to be able to cope properly with all the demands one may have. I struggle with the time exercise takes away from being with my family and the extra planning it takes to have a healthy diet 24-7. That being said, I have found some short-term, extrinsic motivation that might help kick start me on my way back to health: Mexico. We are going at the end of March and I don’t want to look like a lumpy mattress stuffed in to a bathing suit. I know, middle class problems… woe is me!
So, here is my plan. I am on South Beach Diet. Someone I know suggested it when I was complaining about my lack of willpower on Facebook and I thought to myself “Oh yeah, I remember that diet. I sucks for a while and then it becomes normal”. I can do that. I also bought a workout DVD that has two separate workouts – one for upper body and one for the lower – and they are each 20-ish minutes. I can do that too.
I am on day 5 of the diet and have only cheated once with a stale doughnut I found in my purse. And a skim milk hot chocolate that was amazing. So, twice. Oh well.
Wish me luck!
(I may post before and after photos, I just have to lose a few pounds first to post my before photo! Ha!)
A few days ago, after finishing an exhausting few weeks of work and finally kicking the plague’s ass, I found myself in the car on the way to the airport with my littlest one in tow to meet my family and all our relatives in O Town. I had left the house early to get in a few stops on the way to the airport when the oddest thing happened: I crashed. Spectacularly.
I was driving in the middle lane of a large highway (Deerfoot to those of you in Calgary) and I started to sway. The back end of the vehicle just started to move ever so slightly left to right as if there was a strong wind. The sways started to go further and further and I realized that this was more than just wind. I almost got it back under control but then started fishtailing widely again and all hell broke loose. I spun to the right quite far and crossed the left hand lane and crashed in to the median with the right front end of the vehicle. The airbags deployed and I managed to get my arm up over my face as I screamed something like “no, no NO!”. We continued to spin and crossed back over the highway and landed in the ditch on the opposite side right before an on-ramp.
K cried as soon as we hit, thank God. She was buckled in tight even though I hate her car seat and almost always find it impossible to tighten properly. She bit her tongue a little bit but was otherwise completely unaffected and was giving me high fives and smiling by the time I was on the phone with 911.
I called emergency services and they sent everyone. A few witnesses stopped immediately and rushed down to see if we were ok. They all stayed to write reports and fussed over us. A lovely retired couple with 6 kids and 13 grandchildren (one with the same name as K) cooed with K and made sure she was ok. I called M as soon as I got a chance to tell him what happened and mostly to tell him that we were ok. He just wanted us to get to him in Ottawa so he could make sure for himself. I wrote the report in the back seat of a cop car with K so we could stay warm. I hope that is the last time for both of us in the back of a police vehicle!
The lovely couple who stopped offered to take us the rest of the way to the airport and proceeded to transfer my bags and install the extra car seat in to their plush and warm SUV. My car was totaled.
On the way to the airport as I contacted M again with an update and my Christmas Angels talked to us to pass the time. I asked their names so we could properly thank them when we got back to town and they refused to tell me! They didn’t want to be thanked and asked that I just pay it forward.
I got to the airport safe and sound and made my flight with plenty of time. Ridiculous errands not done. But me and the baby safe. As we waited to take off and as we flew I got more and more achy and sore but I just couldn’t help but feel as though we had been spared or someone was taking extra good care of us that day. We really should have been more seriously injured. We were about to roll but didn’t. We crossed a three lane highway twice and didn’t hit and injure anyone else. We are completely fine. I am more than traumatized as that was the single most terrifying moment of my life. I realize what I could have lost and am eternally grateful that I didn’t and that a few caring souls stopped to make sure we were ok and to usher us off on our Christmas holidays.
It has been about a month since I have felt well. It started out as a cold before R’s birthday. For about a week I fought off the inevitable and then after her party and after we dropped my mom off at the airport I started feeling wretched. Dizzy, sinus cold, bronchitis and laryngitis. I had to take a day off work but couldn’t take much more as it was report card time and I had a student teacher I wanted to be around for. In the middle of the worst cold ever created, I also got a tummy bug. Rebecca and Kate did as well and were puking for about two days. Rebecca went all exorcist on us at the dinner table and that was the worst of it. After the tummy bug cleared I thought the end was near but it seems as though the cold has come back. I still feel like death. I went to the Dr and was told there was nothing I could take to help it all clear up. So, here I sit, in a ridiculously messy house, eating Mr Noodles and watching Swiss Family Robinson. The student teacher gave it to me as a parting gift. Sweet girl. Here’s hoping all this is the perfect medicine. I am so damn sick of being sick.
I promised R’s birth story last weekend, and then a cold came in a kicked my ass while I was trying to finish report cards…. so, that. I have been in bed/on the couch all day on a rare sick day from teaching. I almost have to be told to take a sick day, that is how rare it is. I feel guilt all day. Oh well. At least I can talk a bit today which is an improvement.
So, about three years ago I had a sweet baby girl, and this is how it all went down.
I gave birth at 11:59 am on a Thursday. My mom had been planning to come in to town for the birth and to stay with us for a few weeks to help out. The Friday before I gave birth I was feeling rather braxton hicks-y and panicked. I called my mom and she changed her flight to come in that night. I picked her up at the airport and we waited 5 more days for anything to happen! I had been on sick leave for about 5 weeks prior to having R because my pelvis felt like it was splitting apart. I couldn’t teach, get in and out of a car, put on my pants or underwear, cross my legs – you name it, couldn’t do it.
I had an amazing Dr taking care of me for both my pregnancies and she and I joked about picking specific days that would be appropriate for me to give birth based on her on-call days at the hospital I saw her on Wednesday and she said I was 1 cm dilated (I had been 1 cm for at least a week by then). I wasn’t due for over a week but my Dr was working the next day so I said I would make it happen. I was convinced that I could make it happen and so I told everyone I was having my baby the next day. That night, I visited my friend L, and she gave me some Raspberry Leaf tea which is supposed to induce labour. At about 9 pm I drank the tea and then …
*Note to my mother and mother-in-law and any squeamish family members – skip to the next paragraph…
I made M ‘encourage labour’ in a way only a husband or significant other can…’wink wink’.
Back to the story. 4 am rolls around and I woke up feeling a bit crampy. I felt like I had to poop and gave that a go. I noticed that my underwear was a bit damp, but I didn’t give it much thought. Silly, I know. No poop. Wen’t back to bed and M roused a bit to ask what was going on. I said “I think I might be in labour” and he immediately became slightly more awake. I had brought a towel to bed and thank goodness I was sitting on it, because M started cracking jokes and as soon as I laughed I felt that tell-tale gush everyone talks about. That was it. I was in labour!
I went down the hall to wake my mom to let her know. Knocked on the door with the towel between my legs, and said “Mom, I think I am in labour” and I swear she jumped sideways out of bed and started putting her earrings on. I took a shower and the contractions started. They were just mild muscle spasms but not too painful for the first few minutes but soon I was having to stop and sway to get through them. I made my way downstairs and M and my mom had already dressed and were making breakfast. Eggs. They would make another appearance in a few hours. It was about 5 am at this point. M had packed a bag with banana chocolate chip muffins (remember this detail for later) and iced tea. They both asked when we should make our way to the hospital and I basically said ‘now!’.
By the time we were in the car I was having contractions about 3 minutes apart and was getting nauseous. It was about a 10 minute drive to the hospital and the picture of me in front of the entrance is awful and hilarious at the same time. Take a look:
We went up to the sixth floor and I got admitted. I got checked and was only measuring about 2 cm so they let me labour for a few hours in the triage room. My mom and M were hanging out with me as the contractions got worse and worse. I actually couldn’t believe how quickly they had gone from cramps to excruciating pains in the course of just over an hour! At some point while I was laying on the bed in a fetal position I started puking. M placed kidney shaped bowl after kidney shaped bowl in front of my face as I puked up my breakfast. M has diabetes and at some point in the triage room he must have started feeling some low blood sugar and I guess he got out a muffin. I took one whiff and I must have half-snarled ‘get that muffin out of here’ with my eyes closed and when I opened them the door was swinging and there was no M in sight.
I was checked again and had made little progress. The on-call resident (or ‘useless’ as I would like to refer to her) basically told me that according to her text book I would progress at about 1 cm an hour and should come back some time in the afternoon, and I could go home now. I almost kicked her in the face as I was in such hard labour that the thought of even walking down the hall was overwhelming to me. The nurses must have overheard this and decided to sneak me in to the shower so I could labour elsewhere, out of the gaze of ‘uselsss’. Nurse Hazel (or ‘saviour’ as I would like to refer to her) got me in to a shower stall with a bench and also brought in this huge tank. She said it was antinox and that she sucked back a tank per kid when she delivered her children so she recommeded that I try it. Basically, it just allows you to completely relax between contractions so the baby can come down and so I could deal with the pain when it comes. It was amazing. I sucked that stuff back like my life depended on it. I actually think it just gave me something else to focus on while I was contracting. I counted breaths during each contraction. 10 was a hard one. When I got to 14 breaths per contraction or the counting just never stopped, I asked to be checked again.
I had been in the shower for between an hour and two hours and I had progressed from 2 cm to 7. I was transitioning. For those of you who don’t know, transitioning is excruciating. I was put in a wheelchair with my trusty tank of gas and was wheeled in to a lovely, bright delivery room. By the time they got me on the bed I started feeling the urge to push. You know, like when you have a big poop and your body takes over and pushes it out for you? That, times 10. I was checked again and I was fully dilated. It was a little after 11 am. If I had listened to ‘Useless’ I would have been having my baby in my tub or on the highway. Thank goodness for Nurse ‘Saviour’.
I had this amazing nurse named Pushpa who attended the delivery who was also a midwife and she was wonderful. She took charge and described very well how I should be doing things. She changed my position a few times to see what worked best for me and basically led the deliverly. I was so grateful for her.
My lovely Dr came in and commented on the fact that our plan had indeed worked and she was jazzed to be there for the delivery. I pushed for about half an hour to 45 minutes and out popped baby R! Crowning was like nothing I could have ever imagined. Like pushing a bowling ball out of a teeny garden hose and feeling every single thing. I pooped on the table, growled like a rabid animal and may or may not have snapped at my mother for trying to mop my brow. M and my mom were on either side of me, each holding a leg during this event and I couldn’t have asked for a better experience. It was crazy.
And, here is the first picture of my little one:
After she and I cuddled for a bit and I ate the best toast I had ever tasted a nurse asked if I wanted to take a shower. I certainly did. I hopped off the table (the adrenaline rush after giving birth is second to none) and made it through the shower without passing out. As I stepped out of the shower I caught a look at my new, deflated belly and almost shrieked. What a joke! I just pushed out a baby and I still have this huge belly, yet grosser because it is all flacid and hangy? Bullshit! I will save you the visual by not posting a picture of that.
M dressed me and I got to snuggle a bit more with R before I was moved in to my recovery room. Here is another picture of me looking super glamorous:
I dropped that popsicle on her head. Just so you know. She didn’t flinch.
Or should I say “Birs-day”? That is how R says the word and it was her party after all. My first baby turns 3 tomorrow and we had the party to end all parties yesterday. I had a lot of fun with a Sesame Street theme. She has had an Elmo obsession for about 6 months or so. I took her to see Sesame Street Live over the summer, she was Elmo for Halloween (as you might recall) so it seemed like a logical choice. She invited her choice of friends and I got started planning a few weeks ago. It must be said that I did all this while in the midst of a cold that wouldn’t quit, writing report cards, having my mom over (thank God, or I would be a wreck by now), four evenings of f-ing first aid training, a field trip and umpteen other things. I am amazed I have made it out the other side.
Here are some details from the party:
This is the sign that greeted guests at the door. I made it with a green foam wreath from a craft store which is usually used for flower arrangements. I pinned about 320 balloons using straight pins with colored heads. There isn’t really any rhyme or reason to the technique; I did two rows of two balloons around the outside and inside edges. Easy Peasy.
I made gift bags containing a bunch of Sesame Street themed stuff. I had colouring books, little story books, Elmo’s Crayons, Dorothy’s Fish, a Kermit the Frog Pez, Mr. Noodle’s Noodles and a fruit snack. I made the bag topper using Word and I placed a rounded rectangle over an oval and added colour to the border and text. I just printed them on my printer at home and cut them out and stuck them on with double sided tape. I left a tab on the sides to fold over and close the bag with. I stapled the bag closed first.
Then I made cake. And cupcakes. Lots of them! I made and Elmo cake using a mould and then some cupcakes. M helped me colour the frosting using gel food colouring. The intention was to make the cupcakes look like muppet fur and big bird feathers. Notice how the yellow cupcakes are piped differently? I knew you would notice. My mom wasn’t sure anyone would notice all these nuances. Oh ye of little faith.
I made/served a few other themed foods including Big Bird’s Legs (pigs in a blanket – this was a controversial dish), Kermit The Frog’s Frogs and Cookie’s Cookies. I also made dip cups with the dip already in the bottom and a hash brown ham bake. My mom made crab cakes. Yum!
Here are come pictures from the party including some decor and my little lady at cake time. The poufs are made from tissue paper stacked 12 high and accordion folded and then tied in the middle. You then pull the pieces apart and they become poufs. If you can spot them, I also decorated frames with letters and put them on the mantle next to the poufs and the Elmo piñata that I couldn’t bring the kids to hit.
There is also a picture with M and his Movember mustache. The guests were egging him on and saying he could pull it off, that he was a young Tom Selleck or Burt Reynolds and other such drivel. Can’t wait for December!
Full disclosure: These are not all my original ideas. I got lots of inspiration from the following websites:
Boo! Happy Halloween everyone! I am enjoying Halloween in a whole new way in this phase of my life. Halloween used to be all about dressing up in the sluttiest costumes, going to the bars and getting attention. Total 180! Now, I am hard pressed to find a photo of me in all this process. It is all about the kids and how much fun they can have. R was Elmo. Her favourite character. Every time I called her ‘Elmo’ she grinned ear to ear. K was a Tiny Dancer. She loved her shoes and couldn’t stop prancing around to show them off. They were adorable. It was freezing cold outside so we got like 1.5 trick or treaters. R went out for half an hour with M and came back with a bucket full of candy which she promptly offered to share with me – what a cutie pie. K wore her costume all day, to day home, through dinner and all evening. R didn’t want to take her costume off for bed time. It was a lovely night. Now, I have a butt load of candy to polish off. 10 more pounds here I come! Just in time for fat pants at Christmas!
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