7 Typical Conversations with the Boy

Lady in Coffee Shop: Hi Cutie!
The Boy: I ate a cracker!
Lady: Oh, really?
____________________________________________________

Woman Across the Street: (waving at the Boy)
Me: Look (Boy), that lady is saying hello, do you want to say hi?
The Boy: I have a cactus at home!____________________________________________________

Overheard while leaving daycare...
The Boy: I have big underwear at home, Phyta!!
Phyta: Yes, you're a big boy now!____________________________________________________

The Boy: Whaddya doin'?
Me: I'm washing dishes.
The Boy: Whaddya doin'?
Me: I'm still washing dishes.
The Boy: Whaddya doin'?
Me: Still washing dishes.
The Boy: Whaddya doin'?
Me: What does it look like I'm doing?
The Boy: Washing dishes.
Me: You're right!
The Boy: Whaddya doin'?____________________________________________________

The Boy: That your yogurt?
Me: Yes.
The Boy: Who bought it for you?
Me: I bought it. Do you remember when we went to the store yesterday?
The Boy: Oh. Pause. Who made it?
Me: Um, the yogurt man.
The Boy: The yogurt man? Pause. Where yogurt man is?
Me: On the yogurt farm.
The Boy: Where yogurt farm is?
Me: Far away.
The Boy: Oh. With cows, and horses, and pigs, and sheeps and chickens...
____________________________________________________

The Boy: Where Daddy is?
Me: He's at work.
The Boy: Where Daddy is?
Me: He's at work.
The Boy: Where Daddy is?
Me: He's in a pillow.
The Boy: Noooo, he's NOT in a pillow!
Me: Then where is he?
The Boy: He's at work!
Pause.
The Boy: Where Daddy is?____________________________________________________

Me: Goodnight (Boy), I love you.
The Boy: Yeah.
Me: Do you love me?
The Boy: Yeah.

100

I've been freaking out a bit lately when thinking about our upcoming new addition to the family. There are days, I tell you, when I wonder why in the world I would want to go all the way back to "square one", when we have such a good thing going already. But then I thought - we're not really going back to square one, are we? I'm a different person than I was before I had the Boy. I may not know everything, but I have learned a lot, and it's not useless information. So, I thought I would use my one hundredth post (woo hoo! took me long enough), to prove that I have indeed learnt something. My theory is, if I can come up with 100 things I've learnt, then maybe I'm not so unprepared for #2 as I feel I am. If you actually make it to the bottom of the list and there are things you would like to add to it, please let me know. I welcome all knowledge.

100 Things I Did Not Know Before I Had a Baby:

1. Take a few days to yourself before the birth if possible.
2. Pack the baby bag well ahead of time, because it’s hard to do while you’re leaking water everywhere.
3. If you ignore the part of the video about C-sections in labour class, you will undoubtedly have to have one.
4. C-sections may be easier than labour in the short run, but the recovery SUCKS.
5. Babies come out funny-coloured. Mine was purple. Did I miss that in labour class?
6. No one who works in a hospital cares if you’re decently clothed.
7. Not everyone falls in love with their baby at first sight, and that’s OK.
8. Your love for your baby will grow with each day. It will grow double on days that you thought it couldn’t get any bigger.
9. If you have problems breastfeeding, have someone make sure that your baby doesn’t have a restricting frenulum. It won’t solve everything but it will sure help.
10. If you have to pump to stimulate milk production, spend the money and rent the hospital grade pump. It saves a lot of time.
11. If you still have milk production issues, ask your doctor about Domperidone.
12. Breastfeeding problems are not insurmountable, but they will take time, money and a lot of effort.
13. Don’t buy nursing shirts, just put a tank top on underneath your regular shirt – same coverage AND you get to wear “normal” clothes again.
14. Swaddling is a lifesaver, but it’s hard to do properly. The best instructions I found (with diagram!) were in this book.
15. You really can survive on 4 (non-consecutive) hours of sleep per night. It’s not pretty, though.
16. You can watch too much Trading Spaces.
17. Sound machines really can make a baby sleep better.
18. If your new baby cries about two hours after he wakes up, he probably needs a nap.
19. Sometimes babies cry for NO REASON.
20. The “witching hour” happens to almost all babies around 2 months. It’s AWFUL, but it eventually stops. It just seems a LOT longer.
21. Boys wait to pee until you take the diaper off.
22. Poo comes in many different colours. Especially if you’re taking Fenugreek and Blessed Thistle. You may think your baby is an alien, but it’s OK.
23. If a new baby poops when the diaper is not on, it's got an impressive trajectory. Watch out.
24. If the diaper starts to constantly overflow, the diaper is too small. Buy a larger size.
25. Don’t buy cheap diapers.
26. Poo is a hot topic of parental conversation.
27. Most toys for newborns are a waste of money. But it gives you a reason to go out and shop.
28. Coffee can really be a girl’s best friend.
29. Hook up with other moms regularly. You won’t feel so alone.
30. Movies for Mommies are a great way to get out of the house. Ignore the people who snub you for going.
31. If you're going to drink wine, do it while you are breastfeeding. The alcohol hasn’t had time to get into the milk. But, it’s very awkward, and just a little bit Britney.
32. Don’t buy any clothing for a newborn that has to go over the head. It’s not worth the screaming.
33. If the baby is a spitter, buy lots of bibs. Saves you doing a lot of laundry.
34. Babies don’t always hit the milestones when the books say they will.
35. Babies will learn to roll over at the most inconvenient and dangerous time possible.
36. Do whatever it takes to get you through the day with your sanity intact.
37. Leave the house at least once a day.
38. Showering can improve your whole outlook on life.
39. If someone offers to babysit, LET THEM. Especially if it’s free.
40. Other people will take care of your baby differently than you do. As long as the baby’s safe, don’t criticize.
41. Not every mother can tell the difference between the baby’s different cries.
42. You will know when the baby is crying because something is really wrong.
43. Hernia scars do fade.
44. Don’t shove a thermometer up a baby’s bum unless you WANT poo to come out.
45. Swaddling can be hard habit to break.
46. So can sound machines. AND they take a whopping amount of batteries.
47. Batteries are the best shower present you can give a new mom.
48. So is this.
49. So is alcohol.
50. Never say never.
51. Your mom can be your best friend.
52. Buy a stroller that fits your needs, not the one your sister-in-law has.
53. Stroller-Envy is not pretty.
54. Never go anywhere without your rain shield, even if it’s sunny.
55. Memorize the location of all public restrooms.
56. Memorize all the locations of restrooms with change tables.
57. Memorize all the locations of restrooms with change tables that you can access with a stroller.
58. Baby laughter is the best sound in the whole world.
59. Baby smiles are pretty damn good too.
60. The toys your baby likes are usually the most annoying.
61. The person who invented musical toys that don’t have an off button should be shot.
62. I know nothing about parenting.
63. Take time to do something non-baby related at least once a week.
64. Taking breastfeeding drugs means you get a break from your period until you wean! Nice.
65. Some days are never-ending.
66. Some days go by really quickly.
67. Keeping a Baby Book is for the birds. Blogging is waaay better.
68. Some babies don’t get teeth till after their first birthday. They won’t be a toothless wonder forever.
69. Brushing someone else’s teeth is surprisingly difficult.
70. Buy winter boots by September or they’re sold out. Snowsuits too.
71. Get kid's feet measured every four months.
72. There are almost no pictures with me in them. The Boy will think I wasn’t there.
73. It’s worth the money to get a professional family photograph each year.
74. Thank you cards are a necessary evil.
75. Christmas is a lot more fun than before. And a lot more complicated.
76. We need a bigger house to hold all the toys.
77. Summer and parks rock.
78. Get on a daycare list when your baby is in utero.
79. Call the daycare frequently to remain on the list.
80. Have a Plan B when you don’t get into daycare.
81. A baby learning to talk is the coolest thing.
82. Nine times out of ten, the first word is “mama”. As it should be.
83. Having a boy means you will learn more about cars and trucks that you thought possible.
84. Try not to go anywhere without snacks.
85. Pampers travel wipes boxes are indispensable.
86. Don’t be surprised if the baby needs a larger clothes closet than you do.
87. Digital thermometers are worth the money.
88. Telehealth causes more worry than solves it.
89. Fisher Price Little People were better back in the seventies. Buy vintage.
90. No matter how much you spend, the winning “toy” will always be stickers.
91. Routine is good for kids, especially mine.
92. Cracker addiction is rampant in the toddler set.
93. Having “in jokes” with your kid is good for the heart.
94. Get your kid to help out with chores while they still think it’s fun.
95. The first rule of Sleep Club is – you do not talk about Sleep Club.
96. Just when you think you can’t love them any more, you do.
97. A weekend away is a wonderful thing.
98. It’s amazing how many times one person can ask the same question.
99. It’s hard to break the habit of calling someone “baby”.
100. Every single moment, good AND bad, was worth it for this:

Be the change.

The thing that I like best about the blogging community - especially in the GTA - is that it's not passive. We get together en masse for parties. I have had several playdates with fellow bloggers, and I hope to have more. And now, we're doing something that will have an even larger impact: BlogHers Act Canada. Have you voted yet? Watcha waitin' for, man?? I voted for my personal hot-button issue right now: childcare. Click on the pretty button on my sidebar. Or if that doesn't work cause I'm such a computer loser, click on this link . You know you want to...

Which segues rather nicely into something that I've wanted to post about for a while now. I hope you will pardon me if my thoughts come out rather haphazardly. It's my Achilles Heel. Whenever I feel very strongly about something, I lose the ability to talk about it coherently, and I end up sounding like an idiot. I started this blog in part because I wanted to learn to express myself better.

I'm a details girl. When it comes to tackling large issues, like Bloghers Act - I'm not the instigator. I am perfectly willing to follow other people's lead. I want to help make the world a better place. I fully intend to support, volunteer and get involved in whatever issue we decide to tackle. But I never would have thought to do it in the first place. It's not that I'm unable to see the Big Picture. It's just that I'm more comfortable quietly chipping away at the Big Picture, by handling the details one by one. And since I'm such a thorough little nerd, I always want to start at the most basic level, and go from there. After all, if you don't build a solid foundation, your house may fall.

I think that if you truly want to change the world for the better, you have to start small. It was Mahatma Gandhi who said "Be the change you want to see in the world". To me, that means that if you want to make a difference you have to start at square one - with yourself. If we want this BlogHers Act to be the amazing entity that I believe it can be, we can't allow it to be a singular project (or series of projects). We can't allow it to be a bunch of do-gooders chipping away at random areas of a mountain with no thought for the foundation. And that foundation is us. You. Your family. Your community.

What am I getting at? Good question. Here's another analogy: If you give a homeless man a meal and blanket, you may have helped him, but what have you truly changed? Especially if you still see this man as something other than you, as someone outside your world? What brought this on originally is some reading that I was doing about how it takes a community to raise a baby (me being pregnant, and all), and how here in North America, we have isolated ourselves so much that mothers (not excluding fathers here - they're just often at work) are raising babies alone. Alone, overwhelmed, and depressed - sometimes fatally so. And then I thought - what has happened to our neighbourhoods?

I am blessed to live in a community within Toronto that functions much like a small town, but being shy, I only know a few of my closest neighbour's names. I will sit in the park and quietly play in the sandbox with the Boy, and small groups of mothers hanging out together will completely ignore me. Sometimes I am bold and break into the conversations, but it only rarely turns into a lasting connection. From about 6pm onwards, the neighbourhood is almost deserted. Where are the kids outside playing? Most people will say that it's just not safe to let kids play outside unsupervised anymore. I agree, but we are at the root of that problem. Neighbours used to keep a collective eye out for the children playing outside, but not anymore. Where are we?

We're too busy. Exhausted from the day. Turning on TVs and Playstations for a moments peace and quiet. Driving kids to this lesson or that. Over-scheduling to the point that we're not at home anymore. It takes me weeks and several calendar adjustments to arrange a playdate in the park. It shouldn't be that hard. We need to cut back on the scheduled activities, and put the time back into our families and our communities. We need to cut down on the TV and video games and get our butts outdoors. Populate our communities again, so that they once again become the safe, neighbourly places that they used to be. So that there are always kids to play with when you go to the park. So that hooking up for a coffee date only takes a single phone call. So that no one has to feel alone again.

What does this have to do with BlogHers Act Canada, you say? Well, if a neighbour - someone you thought of as a friend - was hungry, would you not bring them food? If they were sick, would you not offer help? If they were a single parent, would you not offer to babysit to give them a bit of a break? It is my assertion that if we start thinking of the people in this world as our neighbours, as part of our world, then the big issues - the ones we are proposing to act on - might not be as widespread. Maybe eventually, they would even cease to be issues. And the only way to do this, to truly make a change from the bottom up, is to start with ourselves. I know I'm naive. You might even say I was sappy, or Pollyanna-ish. I don't care. It's how I choose to see the world. And I'm going to start making the world better by starting with myself, my family and my community. I'm going to be the change. Won't you help me?

I need more space!

Thanks for all your suggestions and advice on the previous couple of posts...I need all the help I can get.

Can I bend your ear for a tick? Here's our dilemma. We live in a smallish semi-detached house. We have 3 bedrooms and a bathroom on the top floor. One is ours, one is the nursery, and one is a guest bedroom/office/second tv room. The main floor is open-concept with a living room, dining room, and kitchen. The basement is small but finished, and is currently our TV room, playroom and second bathroom. With the steadily approaching arrival of Baby Earth, we're going to have to make some adjustments to the living arrangements. Ideally, I would like the children to each have their own room, so the question is - where do we put the home office? Here is where my brain goes berserk:

• We could put the computer in our bedroom. This offers a nice, quiet space for a parental unit to do some work. However, it effectively cuts my computer time by more than half. I usually do most of my blogging/surfing after everyone has gone to bed, and I can't do that in our bedroom without keeping Mr Earth awake
• We could put the computer somewhere on the main level. We would have to buy a new table/armoire on which to put it, though, as space is limited. Also, the computer area is always a mess, and I don't care to expose random visitors to an eyeful of the maelstrom in which we usually live. It's pretty open, and a high traffic area, so it's difficult for Mr Earth to do Serious Work without interruption.
• We could put it in the playroom/TV room. This is my least favourite choice. I would be much too tempted to blog/surf instead of hanging out with the kids. I am determined to be a parent who actually plays with her kids at least some of the time. This is especially important should I decide to work full time again - which is my intention. I am weak and the temptation is too great. Kids come first.
• We could convert the nursery back into a computer room, and have the kids share the larger middle bedroom. Not a terrible idea, but it does seem selfish when we have three bedrooms. I do believe that children deserve their own space, if space allows. I have also heard that small children sharing a room is really good for bonding. Seems squishy, though. And how do you keep the toddler asleep, when the baby keeps waking up?

Suggestions?? I'm fresh out.

__________________________________________________

By the way, if you want to hear more of my Adventures in New York, check out my latest post at MBT. I've even included some nudity this time...Woot! Woot!

Scared

It occurred to me today that I'm having a baby. Wow, it only took me 21 weeks and 1 day! Hurrah. I must be some new kind of smart. I somehow thought that it would be more real the second time around. In contrast, I think I may have been in a complete denial until I felt a few tentative jabs in my lower abdomen a week or so ago. In truth, I still look at women in the final stages of pregnancy, and wonder at the changes in their life they're about to go through - without making any comparison to myself.

You would think since I have already had a baby, I would know what I was doing and what to expect. I don't. In fact, to me it seems worse, because now everyone expects me to have my sh*t together. I don't. It starts at a very basic level. Since the Boy was "from his mother's womb untimely ripped", I have never actually given birth. I went through a few hours labour before the operation, but I don't know what pushing a baby through a woefully small hole is like. But of course, that is just the beginning, isn't it?

I do, however, remember the early days, and I'm not anxious to return to them. I didn't nickname them "the Dark Days" for nothing. I remember walking around in a daze of pain and bewilderment, seeing the world as if through a fog. I remember nights of sleeping one hour out of every three. I remember the constant worry of no milk, no weight gain, jaundice, colic, hernia. I remember looking forward to our bi/tri-weekly visits to the hospital as a way of having contact with the outside (adult) world. I remember it not being a peaceful time, watching a sweet-smelling newborn contentedly sleeping or cooing. I would do it all over again in a hearbeat for the Boy, but it doesn't mean that I would look forward to it.

And how does it work with two, anyway? The basic, daily stuff I mean. How do I get any rest when both kids are on different napping schedules? How do I get the Boy to daycare/preschool when I'm taking care of a wee babe? Should the Boy go to daycare part-time or should he stay home full-time with me? He needs some interaction beyond what I can give him, and I believe the new baby deserves some uninterrupted mommy-time, just like the Boy had when he was young. Should I take him out of daycare and enroll him in a preschool that does, say, just mornings? When I even think of these questions, I feel very selfish, like I don't want him around or something. I do! I just really believe that some time away from the Mommy-Hawk who watches his every move is good for him. He needs space to spread his wings. Even if it's only an hour or two a day.

And what happens when the year of maternity leave is up? Do I go back to work? Can I afford to, even if the miraculous happens and I find two daycare spots or a nanny? While my salary is decent, it would, after taxes, just cover the care costs for two kids. Does it really make sense to go back to work? It does, when you want to go back to work. When work is something that makes you a saner, and therefore better, mother.

Of course, at the heart of this dilemma is the fact that I don't have a terrible lot of confidence in my abilitiy to mother a newborn. Some people just seem born to it, and I am so very jealous of that. I think I kick ass at being a mother to a toddler, though. I sometimes lose my patience, of course. I hope I'm not the only one. But, in general, I feel that I've really hit my stride with the Boy. I get it. My life is still chaos, but it's a controlled, well-organized chaos. I can deal with that. I am not anxious to go back to that state of helplessness, feeling like a complete washout. I also don't want to spend the poor kid's whole baby stage, just wishing he/she would reach toddlerdom. That's not cool. And it's a waste of a truly magical time.

It seems to me that all the support out there goes to the first-time mothers. While I don't dispute that they need all the help they can get, is there anything out there to support the second or third time mothers? I've never seen a mommy-baby group where the mothers have more than one kid. Are we supposing, then, that mothers with multiple children all have a network of friends and a support system in place? Exercise classes are generally for mom and one baby, not mom and baby and preschooler. Other types of classes like Kindergym or Swimming are for a specific ages, and when one goes, the other is not welcome. Ack! My head is splitting trying to figure this all out. Did I miss some sort of crucial education the first time around?

Am I allowed to be scared? Or do I have to keep pretending that I'm nothing but excited?? Because I am excited, you see. I'm thrilled, I'm emotional, I'm half in love with a person I've never even met. I always thought our family wouldn't be complete until there were four of us, and this is my dream realized. But I'm tired of pretending that that's all there is to it.. That there isn't anxiety, worry, and fear behind it too. Because there is. And I can't deal with it unless I own up to it.

L(Eight)

Painted Maypole tagged me ages ago to do this meme, and I have just now gotten around to it. I could make some crafty excuses, but the reality is that I was too busy being lazy. Apparently, there are some crazy rules about posting the rules before the meme, but I say rules-schmules! I walk on the wild side. So here goes...

Eight (FASCINATING!) About Me:

1. I eat a Rice Krispie square for breakfast every day, Monday to Friday. Yep. Every. Single. Day of the Week. And I wonder why I'm getting fat. Hey, man, it's cereal - ain't it? Don't judge me till you try it. In my opinion, there's no better way to wake up in the morning.

2. If you want to make me weak in the knees, or a blubbering mess, all you have to do is play one of the following songs: Annie's Song (John Denver), I Will (Beatles), Teenage Sonata (Sam Cooke), In My Life (Beatles) or Landslide (Fleetwood Mac). I am a total sap.

3. While I remain firmly Christian in faith (my dad is a minister after all!), I find great peace in the image of the Tibetan Buddha. I have started a small collection in my house, and they make me happy every time I look at them.

4. Although I am not a liar, I remain rather partial to over-exaggeration. This bothers Mr Earth to no end, but secretly, I think he likes it. Without being immodest, I am quite possibly the Greatest Exaggerater Ever. It's an art, really.

5. Many women have shoe fetishes, or are constantly spending money on clothes. My shoes are worn, and I'm only buying new clothes right now because I'm forced to due to pregnancy. I'm broke because I spend all my money on expensive hair products. I don't know why, but I've conditioned (so punny!) myself to believe that my hair only looks good if I use the Good Stuff. My obsession right now? Pureology. The best hair care line I've found, and they're 100% Vegan, and earth friendly. Don't ask me how much this stuff costs, you don't want to know. Just touch my hair. It's so silky!

6. According to Mr Earth, I like old people chocolate bars. Personally, I see nothing wrong with Big Turk, Cadbury's Fruit and Nut, or Bridge Mixture. Solid chocolate choices. I think Mr Earth needs to expand his horizons.

7. I seriously thought Pass the Dutchie by Musical Youth was a song about doughnuts. I kept wondering why they had to pass the dutchie around. Couldn't they afford to buy a whole dozen? Kinda funny. Kinda sad, too.

8. Apparently, I am the Most Boring Person Ever. Asked to do a meme on eight things about me and these are the most interesting things I could think of? Most of these revolve around food! I'm not sure what that says about me.

I would tag eight people, but I'm so late doing this that I don't believe there is anyone out there who hasn't done it already.

Wherein Nomo SUCKS at Spelling...

Last weekend, the Husband and I flitted off to New York City to catch some shut-eye sans toddler, and see a couple of Broadway shows. The first night, we had tickets to The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. For anyone unfamiliar with this little gem, it's a show that started out as a non-musical play (C-R-E-P-U-S-C-U-L-E), was turned into an Off-Broadway musical with the help of composer William Finn, and due to enormous success, has now moved up to Broadway.

Any Word Nerds out there? You will love this show. Did you like the movie Spellbound or Akeelah and the Bee? You will love this show. Do you have a heart?? You will LOVE this show. Seriously, the most fun I have ever had at a show that was not Godspell.

Before the show starts, volunteers go around the milling audiences signing up volunteer spellers for the show. Of course, the Husband and I could not resist. At ten to eight, they choose four people out of the crowd who signed up. I was one of them! Guess being pregnant is good for something..

We were taken to the booth for orientation. The main instructions were to follow any directions given by the actors (for our safety), to "be ourselves" (read: don't outshine the actual actors), and whether or not you know how to spell the word, you must ask the following two questions:

1. Can I have the definition please?
2. Can you please use in a sentence?

OK, I thought, I am all set. I am a good speller.... [more]

It's A...

...baby!

We had our second trimester ultrasound today, and my flair for the dramatic finally won out over my seething curiosity, and we didn't find out the gender. When the doctor asked us if we wanted to know, I simply asked him to confirm that the baby was, in fact, one sex or the other. 'Cause if it's both sexes at the same time, or a third sex entirely, then I would definitely want to know. He chuckled a bit, but I don't think that he fully appreciated the brilliant wit. This is comedy gold, man!

Mr Earth remains convinced that the baby is a boy. He is certain that he saw a penis, and was very proud to see the relative size of said penis. He is ecstatic that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He would not be put off by my pointing out that this was the umbilical cord. Dream on, my love, dream on. We got some excellent shots of the baby's face - he/she looks like Skeletor. I kid you not. But then, I think that most ultrasound shots make the baby look like an alien, so maybe this is a step up...? At least Skeletor might have been human once.

The only dissonant note in an otherwise exciting moment, is that my doctor had written on the request form that I see a particular doctor at the lab. I didn't really think anything at the time - I assumed that the doctor was someone she knew, or simply favoured. When the technician started the exam he asked me why this doctor was requested. I had no idea. Turns out, this doctor is a specialist in fetal abnormalities. The technician asked if I had a history of problems, and what happened with the first pregnancy, and I assured him that all was fine. We couldn't figure out why she had requested that I see him. Of course, now my heart is racing and I'm having trouble breathing properly. Surely if she thought that there might be a problem, she is obliged to inform us - ? Maybe she didn't want me to worry?? (Like I am now.)

The maddening thing is that the technician and doctor are not allowed to discuss the results of the ultrasound. I have to wait until I see my doctor on the 19th. The ultrasound doctor said that it looks like a "nice pregnancy", whatever that means. At least that sounds positive. I would hate for it to be a "mean pregnancy". (Is mean technically the opposite of nice? Hmm. Yes, these are the things I think about..)

The only reason I think it's a boy is that we have two lovely girl names all ready to go, and for the life of us, we cannot agree on a single boy's name. Not. One. Other than The Boy's name, of course. But you can see how giving two boys the same name might be a problem. Nymbler is no help. It keeps suggesting names like Crispin, Dobbin or Theron. No thanks. So if you have any suggestions, throw 'em at us. Here are the rules:

• Easy to pronounce
• Easy to spell (nothing kreative)
• Well known, but rarely used
• No names that are used for both boys and girls
• Preferably of English origin (Irish, Scottish included)

Know any boy names that fit all that criteria? That's why we're having trouble.

Intermission

We're off tomorrow for our very first vacation EVER since the birth of the Boy. Yes, we've gone out for an evening, we've even (gasp!) gone away to Niagara overnight, but we've never actually left the country. Do I sound excited?? I hope so, cause hot damn I am. For anyone who doesn't know, we're going to the Big Apple to see some fabulous theatre (Painted Maypole: are Spelling Bee and Spring Awakening the shows that you would have booked? I'm curious.). I'm also ashamed to admit that we are spending a lot of money and flying to the US to sleep in. Is that too too absurd? How much money would you spend to sleep in for four days in a row? To eat when you want, rest when you want, and basically do whatever you want? To me, that's priceless. I will miss the Boy dreadfully, but OH, the sleep!

Please say a prayer that nothing goes wrong, and we get to have the trip of our dreams. I really need it right now.

And if y'all are missing me (ha!ha!) you could alway read my review of Evil Dead The Musical over at Mommy Blogs Toronto. Mama Drama is feeling kinda lonely, but luckily she's going to get her fix this weekend..

Hover

Despite the wilting Sunday heat, the Boy and I had a great time visiting with two very lovely ladies, Sage and Mme LaBrune. Although the state of washroom facilities in Toronto parks is deplorable. I had actually visited that exact washroom on my early morning run. In the course of less than a day, not only was the the toilet paper all gone (expected), but the toilet seat was removed entirely from the toilet (somewhat of a surprise). I, personally, don't want to touch a public toilet, much less exert effort removing the seat from the bowl. Still, there's nothing much more charming than a couple of two-year-olds shouting "Llama! Llama! Llama!!!" on the way to the zoo. Most of the animals were indoors due to the heat, but Mme L was captivated by the peacocks. The Boy - not so much. They were too loud for his newly tubed ears, and he wanted to see "somefin' else".

Sage and I were talking about her recent and my upcoming trips to New York, and I admitted something that rather surprised me. I am VERY much looking forward to going away, but the closer we get, the more apprehensive I am. I have never been away for the Boy for longer than a day, and although I trust my mother implicitly, the bottom line is: I don't trust anyone to watch the Boy as well as I (or Mr Earth) can. Yes, as much as I've scoffed and scorned at those mothers who are reluctant to let someone else care for their child, I think I am actually one of those moms. I am a bit shocked. I've always thought I was more of a here-take-the-kid-I'm-going-shopping-see-you-later kind of person, and out the door 2 seconds later. Have I been fooling myself?

The essence of the problem lies in the fact that I simply believe we know the Boy better than anyone else. Many times, I know what he's going to do or say, before he says or does it. For instance, 9 times out of 10, he can play on the play structure at the park completely independently. That 10th time though, he'll try to walk off the platform where there are no stairs, or go shooting head first down a slide that's way too big for him. That's why I'm not the mom who sits on the bench and watches him play from afar. I'm right there, climbing the stairs and sliding down slides that are way too small for me. I'm terrified of the 10th time. I'm terrified that other people - people who don't know him as well as I do - will feel confident in his abilities, and inadvertedly let him take that precarious step off the platform.

Although, I also wonder if I'm not somehow limiting him by being such a hovercraft. Maybe there's tons of things he could do, if only I wasn't watching out for every perceivable danger. Maybe what he really needs is time away from me to spread his wings and soar. But I will miss kissing that sweet cheek each morning, and feeling his Buddha belly against mine.

Pregnant Pause

I was all set to write a post beweeping my outcast state. You see, no one wants to hire a pregnant actor. Or, perhaps they do, but the roles are few and far between, and I'm not playing in the Big Leagues, so those roles don't filter down to me.

I've been somewhat depressed lately, troubling deaf heaven with my bootless cries, because I am finally at a point where I feel I can do a show again. Where I feel I deserve to do a show again. The Boy is weaned. My supplementary schooling is over. I'm finally at a point where I feel I can commit to outside activities with relatively no guilt, and what do I do? I go and get myself pregnant. On purpose (well, if not entirely on purpose, at least not by mistake). I can only look upon myself for this minor quandry.

Read more of my beweeping at MommyBlogsToronto..

What the Earth needs now is Love

***Caution: long and overwhelming sentimental and indulgent..***

I am feeling terribly wistful and nostalgic these days. It makes me want to re-read all my favourite books, only I don’t have time. So I went in search of what I love most about my favourite books and thought I would share them with you. Call it my “10-minute Love Fix” if you will. If you could use a few minutes of romance, read on… and let me know what your favourite romantic books are, will you? I could use a really good book..one I haven't read a million times before, that is.


5. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Sadly, I have only lately come to a true appreciation of Austen’s novels. I know, I know! How could someone like me NOT like them in the past? What can I say? I was young and foolish. After seeing Colin Firth speak these words, though, my heart was lost..

``If you will thank me,'' he replied, ``let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you."

'Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause, her companion added, ``You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever."

'Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change, since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The happiness which this reply produced, was such as he had probably never felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eye, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight, diffused over his face, became him; but, though she could not look, she could listen, and he told her of feelings, which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable.

They walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects.


4. A Girl of the Limberlost by Gene Stratton-Porter

A true gem of a novel that is often overlooked. I grew up with this story in my head and my heart. The passage will not reveal the true beauty of this novel, you simply must read the whole book..

Before Elnora missed her, Alice, who had gone to investigate, came flying across the shadows and through the sunshine waving a paper. She thrust it into Elnora's hand.

"There is a man-person -- a stranger-person!" she shouted. "But he knows you! He sent you that! You are to be the doctor! He said so! Oh, do hurry! I like him heaps!"

Elnora read Edith Carr's telegram to Philip Ammon and understood that he had been ill, that she had been located by Edith who had notified him. In so doing she had acknowledged defeat. At last Philip was free. Elnora looked up with a radiant face.

"I like him 'heaps' myself!" she cried. "Come on children, we will go tell him so."

Terry and Alice ran, but Elnora had to suit her steps to Little Brother, who was her loyal esquire, and would have been heartbroken over desertion and insulted at being carried. He was rather dragged, but he was arriving, and the emergency was great, he could see that.

"She's coming!" shouted Alice.

"She's going to be the doctor!" cried Terry.

"She looked just like she'd seen angels when she read the letter," explained Alice.

"She likes you 'heaps!' She said so!" danced Terry. "Be waiting! Here she is!"

Elnora helped Little Brother up the steps, then deserted him and came at a rush. The stranger-person stood holding out trembling arms.

"Are you sure, at last, runaway?" asked Philip Ammon.

"Perfectly sure!" cried Elnora.

"Will you marry me now?"

"This instant! That is, any time after the noon boat comes in."

"Why such unnecessary delay?" demanded Ammon.


3. Anne of the Island by LM Montgomery

Oh, how many times have I read this passage? Out of all the Anne books, surely this is the best one, hands down. How can you not love a line like “shining with all the love-rapture of countless generations”? I did not see my face when Mr Earth proposed, but I’m pretty sure that’s how I looked…

Gilbert was not to be thus sidetracked.

"I have a dream," he said slowly. "I persist in dreaming it, although it has often seemed to me that it could never come true. I dream of a home with a hearth-fire in it, a cat and dog, the footsteps of friends -- and YOU!"

Anne wanted to speak but she could find no words. Happiness was breaking over her like a wave. It almost frightened her.

"I asked you a question over two years ago, Anne. If I ask it again today will you give me a different answer?"

Still Anne could not speak. But she lifted her eyes, shining with all the love-rapture of countless generations, and looked into his for a moment. He wanted no other answer.


2. The Blue Castle by LM Montgomery

People tout the Anne books as the best that Montgomery have to offer, but clearly they have not read The Blue Castle. Possibly my favourite book of ALL TIME. I have never identified so much with one character, nor read a book as many times as this. The line “the little low laugh of the triumphant lover” echoes unbidden in my head whenever I’m feeling romantic…

"Love you! Girl, you're in the very core of my heart. I hold you there like a jewel. Didn't I promise you I'd never tell you a lie? Love you! I love you with all there is of me to love. Heart, soul, brain. Every fibre of body and spirit thrilling to the sweetness of you. There's nobody in the world for me but you, Valancy."

"You're--a good actor, Barney," said Valancy, with a wan little smile.

Barney looked at her.
"So you don't believe me--yet?"

"I--can't."

"Oh--damn!" said Barney violently.

Valancy looked up startled. She had never seen this Barney. Scowling! Eyes black with anger. Sneering lips. Dead-white face.

"You don't want to believe it," said Barney in the silk-smooth voice of ultimate rage. "You're tired of me. You want to get out of it--free from me. You're ashamed of the Pills and the Liniment, just as she was. Your Stirling pride can't stomach them. It was all right as long as you thought you hadn't long to live. A good lark--you could put up with me. But a lifetime with old Doc Redfern's son is a different thing. Oh, I understand--perfectly. I've been very dense--but I understand, at last."

Valancy stood up. She stared into his furious face. Then--she suddenly laughed.
"You darling!" she said. "You do mean it! You do really love me! You wouldn't be so enraged if you didn't."

Barney stared at her for a moment. Then he caught her in his arms with the little low laugh of the triumphant lover.


1. The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams

OK, technically this is not a love story. On the other hand, it is the only story that really approaches the true meaning of love for me. It was read by my father at our wedding, and will always have a special place in my heart…

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

Contested

There seems to be such a dichotomy going in the blogosphere lately. On one hand, you have the women who are posting about how blogging has empowered them, and on the other hand, you have the people who are considering whether or not to stop blogging altogether. I'm on an emotional rollercoaster these days as it is, but after reading posts on either end of the spectrum, I feel rather like the child sitting in the middle of the Chalk Circle, wondering if his two mothers are going to pull him apart at the seams.

When I read about the empowerment that blogging bestows, I am uplifted and certain that I am spending my time in a worthwhile pursuit. But everytime I read about a blogger who is quitting, or taking a vacation, my heart sinks just a little lower in my breast and my stomach turns to lead. While I don't look to other bloggers to tell me whether or not to continue, they are most certainly the reason that I do.

What makes me the saddest of all is that when someone decides to stop blogging, it's almost never seems to be because the reason that they started their blog is gone. People all have their own reasons for starting a blog, but when it comes to the momosphere, it does seem to almost always boil down to three basic reasons: they want to keep a record of their children's lives (virtual scrapbooking of a sort); they want to connect with other people for advice, support and mental stimulation; or they are working through issues of their own, and need the blog as a creative outlet. Sometimes all those reasons, and more, are present. But when they stop blogging, those reasons are all still there, but perhaps their private space has been violated, or they find that the virtual world takes too much time away from the real world.

It's sort of like watching a particularly painful divorce proceeding, where you know that the parties involved still love each other, but outside circumstances are forcing them to go ahead with the divorce anyway. And the readers are the children watching it happen, knowing that the place they went to for support, love, laughs will no longer be there. I've never been a proponent of the idea that parents should stay together "for the kids' sake", when they are miserable with each other. But it makes me sad all the same. For no reason other than that I will miss their voice.

I think that maybe - and maybe I'm being naive here, so bear with me - that we're all just suffering from the Snowball Effect. You start off blogging because you have something to say. It's fun, it's easy, it's accessible. It's an outlet. Then you start getting some comments, and you realize that people want to hear what you have to say. You write more often. And, of course, you have to visit the people who commented on your blog. And because everyone I've met so far is so interesting / witty / insightful / funny / down-to-earth / real that you have to read more, and write more. And you want to write more, and better yourself. And because this is such a wonderful caring community, there's all these amazing extras, outlets and outreaches like the Just Posts, raising money for good causes, awards. You become inextricably enmeshed. Who wouldn't want to be a part of such a community? You'd have to be crazy not to want to. But it can get to be too much sometimes, can't it? Like you're living more of your life online than in the flesh? This may not be everyone's experience, but I bet I'm not too far off target here. I'm a Type A personality myself, and I know firsthand how easy it is to get caught up in the need to do more, better.

So here's what I'm thinking - maybe we should just take the pressure off and realize that this blogging thing doesn't have to be so much of a ... big deal. I mean, does it? You don't have to post every day to make me want to read your blog. Each post doesn't have to better than the last. If I read your blog, it's because I've found in you a kindred spirit, not because I like an individual post. You don't need to get an award for me to think you're a good writer - frankly, I wouldn't be reading if I didn't already think you were. And I won't stop reading if you never comment on my blog either (eventhough I am a comment-whore). Just do what you do, and know that we'll be back because we like you. Just the way you are.

FitPreggo Friday

Pregnancy Weight Gained 8lbs, Alcohol Units 0 (sigh), Cigarettes 0 (yuck), Timbits 3 (but were bought for office mates so don't count), Skittles Too many to track, Chocolate Chips Several large handfuls, Fries Yes (but as are potatoes, counting them as vegetables), Other Forbidden Substances Tim Hortons French Vanilla Coffee, Total Calories Scared to hazard a guess.

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Am most upset because bravely worked out last night to Billy Blanks Ultimate Boot Camp video. Not feeling any fitter, but now have headache from tensing up while using resistance bands. Also noticed while doing girl push-ups that burgeoning stomach takes on a most distressingly Sigourney Weaver-esque Alien aspect. Not good if wanting to portray a chic mother-to-be. Colleague at work remarked that stomach did not look pregnant, but rather like it had recently given birth and was still sporting an afterbirth pooch. (Mental note: ply colleague with fattening foods so she gains a pooch too.)

Have been attempting to keep up with running schedule, but am finding it difficult between stomach viruses and Mr Earth's busy schedule. Run times distressingly low, and usually end up at Timothy's for a chai tea and chocolate chip muffin. Not sure if able to count runs followed by large chocolatey baked goods. Must remember that while eating for two, one of said two people is only 5 inches and probably doesn't need to eat a whole muffin alone.

Am seriously considering going on cross-country tour to promote idea of recognizing Toddler Lifting and Carrying as new official sport of Olympics. Am sure to win gold medal and gain international fame.

In the past, have been compared most flatteringly to Buffy star Alyson Hannigan. Or, as gents in bars point out "that Band Camp girl". Have been centre of amused attention at parties after perfecting Band Camp impression:



Am concerned that with second pregnancy, am on my way to a less delectable star comparison:

Graduated

Picked up my diploma at lunch today. Sort of anticlimactic after all the work I've done. Just went to a desk, paid my fifteen dollars and they handed me the document. All said and done, though, a lot easier than going through the whole graduation ceremony. I couldn't have made it anyways - I had a Big Meeting, the Boy was sick, and we had to go see the otolaryngologist for a followup to his surgery. It was a big day for me as well, just not ceremonial kind.

You know what? They didn't even ask me for ID. Anyone could have picked it up, and gone on to pretend they're me. (Although, really, who would do this? It's not like it's a medical degree, just a Bachelor of Fine Arts.) Looking at the diploma, though, it is kind of like I'm pretending. It's made out in my maiden name, and I'm not really that person anymore. I mean, she is still very much a part of who I am, it's just that I'm so different now. And yet, I'm still completely her.

Does anyone else have this identity crisis, or is it just me? I decided to take Mr Earth's last name because I knew we would have children, and I didn't want to have a different last name than my kids. It's just so labour-intensive, and I'm not into explaining myself all the time. Personally, it's also a thing I have about unity. We all play for the same hockey team here, we should be wearing the same jersey. After all, if we had different names - how would the fans know who to cheer for? I know that there are manymanymanymany reasons for keeping your name when you get married, and I strongly support them all, but at heart I'm a traditional girl.

The one compromise I did make, though, in favour of feminism, is that I use my maiden name when I act. And apparently, also when I apply for graduation. I did have the choice, you know. I could have used my married name on the degree. I decided to keep this little piece just for me. Acting is the same. Strange to say that though, because graduating is something I could not have done without Mr Earth, period. I actually can't do shows anymore either, without Mr Earth to watch the Boy. So it's intricately woven, and yet I keep it separate. Funny, huh? I like to make things complicated. But I'd be interested to know whether you all kept your name, hyphenated-it, changed it when you got married. Or didn't. This doesn't only apply to married people, if you're living together and don't want to be married, I'd love to know why too. Man, I'm nosy.

But back to my original point: I graduated! [insert fanfare here] As to what I'm going to do with this piece of paper, who knows? The only place to go is up, though.

Of Harry Potters and Puff Mommys..

I was talking with a colleague of mine at work about Harry Potter, and she said that she wasn't interested in reading it because she thinks that magic is silly. I was floored. I had to bite my tongue to keep in the million things that I wanted to say in response to this flabbergasting revelation. What do you have against magic? Did you have a bad experience as a child? Magic is supposed to be a bit silly, that's kind of part and parcel with the fantastic. In the end, I told her that she should just try reading the books because they are really quite good, and that although magic obviously plays a big part, that's not really what they are all about.

Since then I've mulled this over in my head, trying to figure out what I could have said differently to convince her to give the books a try...

Read more from Mama Drama at MBT


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Okay, so I'm just over 16 weeks pregnant and all my pants still fit but my shirts don't. I'm busting at the seams here, folks. I had to cross my arms at my meeting this morning, because I was afraid that a button would pop off my blouse and hit a colleague in the eye. It's embarrassing. Should I be at all concerned that I'm only gaining weight on the top half of my body?? I seem to remember last time that I was putting elastic bands in my waistbands of my pants to relax the fit, but that shirts were no problem. Am I a freak, or what? Ack.

Let's talk about sex, baby.

Other than pressing me for names, the number one thing that people have asked me about since learning I am pregnant is whether or not I am going to find out the sex of the baby. And going on to offer me opinions on which sex baby they would prefer that I have. (I'm not entirely sure, but I don't think that their preference will do anything to persuade the Powers That Be..could be wrong, though).

With my anatomical ultrasound coming up on July 3rd, I have to say that I am torn. Right down the middle. With leanage to one side. Clear as mud? I thought so. We very specifically did not find out the sex of The Boy before he was born. With three (!) sets of grandparents eager to buy us Baby Stuff, we didn't want them going overboard on pink frilly dresses or blue sports-themed paraphernalia. I am very much against pre-emptive gender-typing. I figure that they will get enough of that crap growing up and they don't need us to enforce while they're still babes in arms. But - more importantly - we didn't want to ruin The Moment. I don't think that there are many moments more dramatic in an ordinary person's life than the moment when, sweaty and exhausted from labour, someone announces triumphantly "It's a boy!" or "It's a girl!". That's drama, baby, and I am all about the drama. People have told me that it's just as dramatic to find out on the day of the ultrasound, but I remain unconvinced. Moments, to me, are about setting the stage, and waiting for the precise second when your words or actions will have the most impact. It's about keeping yourself and your audience in the most excitingly tense state of suspense possible.

BUT - now we have the Boy. He can barely understand the concept of "brother" or "sister", and it just makes it more confusing to tell him that he may have one or the other, but we're not sure which. Also, if Baby Earth turns out to be a boy, well, we're all set for clothes and toys. If Baby Earth is a girl, I'm sure I will find something girlie to buy. I'm totally jealous of the cute girlie clothes out there. Plus, I kind of want to know. You know? This is it for the family and I want to know how it's all going to turn out. I'm impatient. Plus, eventhough we didn't find out the sex of the Boy, we knew - without a shadow of a doubt - that he was going to be a boy. Finding out would only confirm what we already knew to be true. This time, I'm not so sure. Well, I still think it will be a boy, but that's mainly because I don't know what it's like to have a baby who isn't a boy. What on earth would I do with a baby girl?? That may sound odd, seeing as I am, myself, a girl. But then, I wasn't looking after myself as a baby, now was I?

Since all that really matters to us is that we have a healthy babe, it shouldn't really matter to us what sex the baby turns out to be. And it doesn't. I also have a hard time passing up a truly dramatic moment, just because I'm impatient. I'm going to have to mull this over something fierce before my next ultrasound. It would help if you told me whether or not you found out. If you did, what made you decide to find out? Was it still a Big Moment?? Oh, and go over to the sidebar and vote on what sex you think it will be, will you? Look at me creating a poll - I'm a techno-wiz! (Mr Earth wanted me to create a gambling pool where people would send us money, but I vetoed that. Although, if you want to send us money, feel free..)

June is Bustin' Out All Over

I've had this little post burning a hole in my pocket for several months, but now that I'm finally ready to write about it, I'm feeling kind of shy all of sudden. Sort of like that first dinner at my parents' house after my honeymoon. They were both extrememly happy and welcomed Mr Earth into the family whole-heartedly, but you couldn't deny the subtle undercurrent of awkwardness. My father could no longer pretend to himself that his only daughter had never had sex. No denial would save face, no "oh but daddy, we just hold hands and pray all night" would cut it this time. It was patently obvious. And my father didn't quite know what to do with the knowledge. As is my usual style, I just ignored the awkwardness and hoped it would go away.

That won't cut it this time. This is something you can't ignore. It's simply too big. But since I can't bring myself to say it outright, let me beat around the bush for a bit. Can you guess where I'm going with this:

I cried when Jaslene was made America's Next Top Model. (underdogs get to me every time)

I rage over the least little thing. (poor Mr Earth)

I have a newfound love of spicy foods. (chilies - your time is nigh)

My drink of choice these days is a Shirley Temple. (shut up, they're good...!)

I fall asleep about 9:30pm. (wild girl)

I can't do an hour-long run without hitting the bushes. (so classy)

I'm scared and happy at the same time. I'm happy to be scared and scared to be happy. (in short, I'm a mess).

Still no clue? Take a look at this amazing photo:

Yup, it's true. Come American Thanksgiving, the Earth trio turns quartet. So, I'm going to retire the ole diet for awhile and just let it all hang out. Hopefully, not TOO far. Good times.

What's that?

Well, here we are almost two weeks after the Boy's surgery, and Mr Earth asked me last night if I thought that the Boy was hearing better or speaking more. Our immediate response was: "Uh, no, not really". (We're very in sync - you might say we're in love, or something..) But then I got to thinking..

He may be talking a bit more. It's hard to tell. I've mentioned before that he narrates his life like a running commentary exercise from Young Driver's of Canada. When he's quiet, I usually jump right into the mom-freak stance of What'swrong?Areyouok?Areyoutired?Areyousick?Areyouhungry?Whyaren'tyouspeaking?? Hot damn, life with me must be fun.. But then, it's true that when he's quiet, there is quite often something wrong. So if he talks more than, say, all the time would you be able to tell??

He seems to have more of a reaction to music. He'll start bopping in his seat when a song he hears a song he likes. He's inherited my unique dance ability. Man, it's funny to watch. I wish I had it on video. His chubby little arm will bounce up and down. If his hands were clasped when the music came on, then both arms will bounce. He's also started to sing in discernible notes, and tunes. But is this a result of the surgery, or is it simply a developmental thing?

I do think that he is hearing more of the sounds at low auditory levels. He's always been one to point out things and say "What's that, mummy, what's that?". Now, this happens all the time. To almost every sound. It even happens when I don't hear anything. That can be a little freaky - especially when we're home alone at night. Most of the time I think it's pretty funny, but sometimes it gets a bit much. Especially if I don't know what he's pointing to, or what he's heard. Sometimes I ask, in the nicest way possible, "What do you think it is?" or "What does it look like?" (Very Seinfeld-esque, for anyone who saw the episode where Kramer pretends to be the Moviephone voice: "Why don't you just tell me the name of the movie you want to see?"). Sometimes I think he knows very well and is simply testing me. It's most amusing, though, to see his little finger point straight up in the air like he's about to say "Eureka!" -- you know another "What's that, mummy?" is going to come at any second.

Strangely though, kids who have ear surgery are supposed to talk very loudly before the surgery, but the Boy speaks louder than ever now. I kind of feel like I'm living in an episode of Dora the Explorer. Why do they shout so on that program. Can anyone answer that?

All I can say, is that it's never boring at Casa Earth. And I've learned a lot. You don't spend your whole day naming things without learning a little something along the way.

Little Miss Sunshine

I was reading a post over at Metro Mama's and realized that she is absolutely right. We moms are all really good at sharing our angst and shortcomings, but it's not often - or, more importantly, not often enough - that we share the good things. She was talking specifically about laughs and poems in this instance, but since I'm fresh outta laughs, I thought the least that I could do is share with you some of the ways that I AM a good parent, despite all my protests to the contrary:

1. When I'm with the Boy, I am WITH him. Present. I don't blog, watch tv, talk on the phone (except when absolutely unavoidable), or read. I may not be there all day, but the time I have with him is quality time.
2. I stick to a firm-but-flexible schedule. The Boy knows what to expect of his day, and we avoid a lot of tantrums by keeping naps and bedtimes predictable.
3. I always look for opportunities to give the Boy a choice. I keep it to choices he can make: a choice of two dinners, a choice of two shirts. I think it gives him a sense of independence.
4. I rarely leave the house without everything we could ever need for every possible scenario. I'm an ultra-planner that way.
5. The Boy's comfort and happiness is foremost in my thoughts. I actually sit at my desk at work and worry whether I've dressed him properly for the day, and plan days together to make sure that he gets a nice mix of indoor and outdoor time.
6. I can make the Boy smile or laugh just by looking at him funny.
7. I've managed to raise a generally sunny and upbeat Boy who narrates his life like a Young Driver's of Canada running commentary, but set to music. You'll often hear little songs floating around our house like: "I sitting on a chair now! I sitting on a chai-air!"

I think seven is a good number, so I'm going to stop there. What I would like to know, though, is how do you think you're a good mother?? I know you all are, or I wouldn't be reading your blogs every day. As with Metro, I like to surround myself by stronger players.

And, since it's against my nature to be a total Little-Miss-Sunshine without any clouds whatsoever, why don't you skip over to Mommy Blogs Toronto and read my latest post on a rather embarassing failure from my theatre school days? It's a doozy. Fun times.

Weekend Pictorial

As I type this, the air outside is redolent with the smell of sulphur from the fireworks. All night long - for the past three nights, actually - we've gone to bed with the intermittent popping noises of Victoria Day celebrations. The weekend was not all I hoped it would be. Mr Earth was in rehearsal two out of the three days - his show opens this week. Poor service at our anniversary dinner on Friday, coupled with a touch of food poisoning, cast a pall on the holiday. Between the tired and the sick, I am left with few words. We did have a few good moments though:

We played in the park.

We stopped and smelled the flowers.

We checked out the fountain.

We learned to catch a frisbee. (Ok, not really, but we did throw it around a bit.)

Back to my crackers and gingerale. Goodnight.

This is not a love song

This is not a love song because..

..most love songs are written by unhappy people on illegal drugs. I am most happy, and I have never used illegal drugs (except for that one time in BC - but I didn't inhale.)

..it doesn't contain "achy breaky" hearts or cheatin' men. I trust you completely - with my heart and my life

..love songs are rarely written by people in mismatched pyjamas that smell like Vicks VapoRub.

..it doesn't rhyme (I just didn't have time. Oops.)

..people just don't go around spontaneously singing about their feelings. At least, that's what the musical theatre haters would have us believe.

..most love songs don't get beyond the "happily ever after" part. We gone so much further. Since getting married 5 years ago, we've: bought a house, bought a car, had a baby, lost a dear family member and experienced countless comedies and tragedies that are too numerous to list here, but I haven't forgotten a single moment. And I can't wait for the moments still to come.

Nope, this is not a love song. It's a tribute to a wonderful man who met me when I thought it was cool to wear oversized t-shirts, stretch pants and Fluevog boots, and fell in love with me anyways. The grunge look of 1998 was not kind to me. I consider myself lucky to have found you.

Maybe this is a love song after all.

Second Guessing

It's ironic that the times that I feel most like a parent is when I am doing the worst job of it. At the best of times, I am a terrible decision-maker. That's the problem with seeing the world in shades of gray. Generally, it's a very inclusive world view, but it sucks when you are called on to have an opinion or make a decision.

Tomorrow, the Boy goes to the hospital to get ear tubes put in. In some ways, I am relieved. On one hand, it will (hopefully) be an end to the non-stop ear infections that render the Boy miserable. On the other hand, it's been some time since he's had an ear infection, so I'm starting to wonder if the whole ordeal is really necessary? Theoretically, the Boy would have more earaches in the winter, because they are caused by non-stop congestion that turn into infection. I would kick myself if I turned down the surgery and the poor Boy went through another winter like the one that we just had. If we had to "well days" in a row, I was jumping for joy. That's not a way to live life when you're two.

But after the surgery, he will have to wear earplugs every time he takes a bath, and a special ear band or cap whenever he goes swimming because he can't get water in his ears while he has the tubes in. That's no fun, either. Since the Boy won't wear sunglasses for longer than a second at a time (and he asks to wear them!) - I'm thinking that ear plugs will not go over very well. And I'm a little freaked out because just as things have finally started to get "easier" and "routine", they are suddenly complicated again.

I know it's not the end of the world, and that many people would think that there are far more serious things to worry about. I agree. What's causing this second-guessing is the simple fact that, in the end, the decision came down to us. I don't want to be doing this surgery for unnecessarily. It is our decision to do the surgery. But surely the specialist would not recommend the surgery if it was not needed..?

I belong to the camp of people who trust doctors (most of the time), and take their recommendations at face value. If a hearing specialist tells me that the Boy's hearing has been comprimised because he constantly has fluid in his ears that never drains completely, then what should I really say to that? I'm no hearing specialist, after all. I haven't noticed a hearing problem. He speaks well. He's got a great vocabulary, and 99% of his words are understood by people outside the family. Apparently, though, kids are supposed to have super-sonic hearing or something, and he doesn't hear things at super low levels. He hears like he's underwater. How could I not have noticed something like that? It makes me question my instincts. And I am already second-guessing them.

I hate creaky floorboards..

Lately, the Boy's bedtime routine has taken a rather um, interesting turn. Normally, after bath and story, we cuddle him, put him in the crib, rub his back, say goodnight and walk away. Now, we do exactly the same thing, but within a couple minutes of walking away, the Boy is up, tears running down his face, and screaming at the the top of his lungs "I want my mommy and daddy! AAHHHH!!" The only thing that calms him down is if I sit in the rocking chair while he falls deeply asleep. This can take some time.

The first night, I tried to leave too early, stepped on a creaky floorboard, and the Boy was up screaming in an instant. I had to lie him down and sit in the chair again. This has made bedtime rather challenging, to say the least. And drawn out. I've stared at the alphabet cards bordering his room for much longer than I care to. Several are falling off the wall from the humidity, and it annoys me to no end that I just have to sit and watch them fall slowly off the wall, instead of fixing them. Now I just sit in the chair, think about how hungry I am, and hope that the Boy will turn his head and face the wall. That's the only way to escape without him waking up. I feel a little bit like I'm trying to exit a room that is laced with deadly laser beams. If I wasn't so tired, it would seem like an adventure.

Nothing has changed in the Boy's routine lately, so I can't imagine what has prompted this turn of events. I love that he needs me, I do, but I would like my evenings back please.
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If you want to check out how Nomo is defeated by book, hop on over to Mommy Blogs Toronto for my latest post. I'm going to have a nap now.

Careers I've Considered

In the hopes of finding something that I love to do as much as acting, I've spent a lot of time (mainly at work) thinking up careers that I might find fun and fulfilling. I thought it would be neat to share them with you, so that you don't think that I spend all my time whining about how much I dislike my job. Look! I think, too!!

Also, since these are creative ideas, I thought publishing them on my site would have the same effect as copywriting, so nobody could claim that they had the idea first (Did you read about the whole "Muggle" fiasco that JK Rowling had a few years back? No fun.) So, without the benefit of any law experience, I am declaring these ideas/images below to be the sole property of the author of this blog, and any use of these ideas/images without my knowledge or consent is prohibited by law. (Fancy words, those - n'est-ce pas? Not that anyone would really want to steal MY ideas.) Here goes.

1. CHILDREN'S BOOK AUTHOR/ILLUSTRATOR:

This is Henrietta. She's a little horse who is always in a hurry. Things are never done fast enough to suit her. And when things aren't done quickly enough, she is most displeased.

I was going to call the book Hold on, Henrietta!, and dedicate it to the Boy - who always wants things done right away, or not at all. Unfortunately, I can't seem to develop the story more than this. I don't consider myself an author, and I'm a little daunted by the task.

2. PORTRAIT ARTIST

This was actually my original "career choice" back in Grade 9. I was going to be an art teacher who did portraits on the side. I eventually decided against it because although I love to draw, it's really a very solitary career. You spend ages alone in a studio, and rarely become famous until you're dead. I kind of like hanging out with people. Also, I don't really know anyone who wants portraits done anymore. It's really a dying art. Who needs a portrait when you can just take a picture? I should have been born in the 1800's. I would have rocked the world.

Please keep in mind that I haven't done any portraits in years. I did this sketch on a 10-minute break at work. I used a mechanical pencil, instead of my preferred medium of chalk pastels, or acrylic paints. All told, though, it doesn't look unlike the Boy. I could do better if I spent more time on it.

3. CHILDREN'S DRAMA/ARTS INSTRUCTOR

This is still a possibility. I love working with kids, especially doing art and drama. I'm just plum scared at opening my own business. Plus, I'm really not sure how much interest there is for this kind of thing. People don't have that much money for extras, and when they do, they generally spend it on name brand classes like Gymboree. Still here's my company name, and a quick rendering of the type of logo that I would use. I love designing logos. I even reserved a website address for this name, just in case. Who knows what could happen in the future, right?

A Tree Falls in the Forest

Here's the question of the week: If a post is written in the blogosphere, and nobody reads it, was it written? Was it worth it to write it in the first place? The immediate answer to this question is most enthusiastically - yes! Writing can be many things to different people: cathartic, soothing, creative. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. But when you sit down and really think about it, the blogosphere is a public forum. If people really wanted to write just for the sake of writing, they would keep a personal journal. Blogging initiates interaction with the outside world. It asks for feedback. That is part of it's very nature. If you have a blog, and nobody reads it, is it actually a journal that just happens to be online?

Intrigued? Read the rest of the post in my little corner of Mommy Blogs Toronto: Mama Drama. I plan to post here on a weekly basis - usually on Thursdays. Hope you'll join me!

White Bread

I love this time of year because it promises so much. The hope of spring and rebirth is all around me. It's so wonderful to lose the mittens, scarves and hats. It's so rejuvenating to feel the sun on my face, and know that summer is coming soon. I like a lot of things about winter, but what I like best is leaving it behind. But this time of years also brings with it some old, bad feelings. It was around this time about thirteen years ago (omigod has it been that long? crap I'm old), when I was sitting in a small room in the theatre school across from my first year acting prof, being evaluated. It was actually my second year out of high school. I spent a year at another university, before deciding that I needed a program that was less academic and more studio-oriented, if I really wanted to become an actor. Anyways, for those that think acting is an easy program, try sitting in a room with a prof who tells you exactly what's wrong with you. You're not being judged on your writing skills, or how much you studied for exam, or whether you had original ideas - you are being judged on YOU. Whether or not you're interesting, talented, significant. According to my first year prof, I was not. I was "too pink" (WTF?), too "middle-of-the-road", too "white bread".

White bread. I can't tell you how this innocuous phrase has gotten stuck in my head and stayed there. Sure, lots of people eat white bread. Some kids will only eat white bread, in fact. But nobody loves it. If a prisoner had to choose their final meal on death row, I'm pretty sure it would not be white bread. If you could only have one food with you on a desert island, I'm guessing it's not going to be white bread. Even if you had to name your top five favourite foods, I doubt that white bread would make the cut. So this is what I'm compared with? A food that, while tasty enough, is completely forgettable?? Thanks. Way to break a girl's spirit. I had a rather "delicate" self-image up to that point, and that pretty much shattered it.

Most years I can just coast by and forget, but this year, as some of you know, I was actually back in school. April brought with it papers, exams and much stress. Along with it came the inevitable reminder that I am not an actor (or why would I be back in school), so maybe the prof was right after all. It's not news to me that the professional actor thing isn't going to happen, of course. I've accepted, albeit grudgingly, the fact for some time now. But the question is - what do I do now? I'm stuck in a job that I don't like, that doesn't challenge me, and where I am all but invisible. I would quit, but it just doesn't make sense financially to do that right now. Even if it did make sense to quit, though, it wouldn't make me happy.

The truth is, I like to work. I think that I've been a better mother since I've been back to work. That doesn't make sense to most people, but it does to me. But I look at my beautiful Boy's face every day that I leave him in the hands of others and think what have I done - what am I doing?? It must be the epitome of selfishness to leave him every day for a job that I don't love. How bad a person must I be to think that I wouldn't be satisfied staying home all the time with this amazing little man who is so very lovely (except when he's not). Then I think - do other people feel this way? Does every mom who goes back to work love her job? Does her job make a difference in the world?

So the solution, you might think, is to find another job - one that I do love. There the rub, no? For every job other than acting would be a Royal Gardner to my Gilbert Blythe. But what do you do when Gilbert Blythe is off the market, but you still want to get married? Would you settle for Royal? It seems that I have no choice, but it does make a decision - any kind of decision - difficult. What I have to do is find another job altogether, something out of the norm. Easier said than done. What I can't do anymore is remain invisible. I can't do a job where I'm not using all of myself, and making a definite contribution to something worthwhile. Even if I was a good employee right now (and I'm not, because I don't care), I wouldn't be doing something valuable. I'd still be white bread. And that's not good enough.