You give me fever…. June 27, 2009

and by you, I mean 1 year old shots…

V had his birthday visit to the Dr on Monday and got a few shots. One of which was the dreaded MMR shot. Now I trust his doctor, a lot. She is very open and doesn’t hesitate stating what she has done/used on her children (the latest 2 of which were born about 1 month after V). I realize there is a lot of conjecture about this particular series of shots…. and we went with yes. Yes means he can go to school. Yes means he can go to daycare. Yes means I have read enough online and in magazines and books to feel like it is appropriate for my child.

He cried for 2 seconds during the series of shots and, as always, stopped abruptly when M made faces at him. He is such a Daddy-slash-Mummy’s boy…

Anyways, last night I picked him up from Pop-Pop and he felt a little warm. I thought it was because they had been out walking in the sun. But after we got home and half way through dinner he was still just as warm. So I took his temperature.

99.9

Hmmm.

Well, that concerns me, just a little.

So in we went to a cool bath, and I dosed him with some Tylenol.

And just to preface this next series of sentences, my little man is not the snuggliest of boys. He loves me, cries for me when I leave the room and clings to my skin with his needle -like nails. But is not an active snuggler. I love and pray and wish for any moment when he does lay his sweet little head on my shoulder and sigh deeply into my neck. It makes my mummy-heart melt. It doesn’t happen as often as I would like.

So as I was reading him his evening “5 Little Monkeys” and “Good Night Moon”, and a quarter of the way through the first book we struggled with some screaming and flailing and finally settled with a sad little head resting on Mummy’s shoulder…. thats when I knew that things weren’t ok.

My poor boo…

It was a rough night for me…. he slept like a baby (which I guess he still is),and I woke at every little sound.

This morning when he woke up, it was the same thing. Little Man wanted Mummy. Really just Mummy’s shoulder to lay his slightly sweaty little head on and my arm to lightly clench with those needle-like fingernails of his.

Broke. My. Heart.

Broke. My. Heart. is also called “I have Mummy wrapped around my fingers”. Which he does.

This evening as we were getting Little Man ready for bed, I totally did a ‘BNE’ into that mouth of his. M was making him laugh so much, that mouth was open open open. It used to be easy to see if he was getting teeth, there was nothing else in there. Now there are 8 sharp teeth in there and I can no longer see. Well, I can, but I risk getting my finger bit off while I look.

This mouth-mission required a forcible entrance. Which meant crying. V is anti-everything to do with his mouth….

5 minutes later I learned that 3 teeth had just broken the surface. And had a very upset child in my arms.

And suddenly I understood everything.

Fever-check. Red cheeks-check. Irritability-check. Plus shots on Monday equals Motherhood.

Yay Motherhood!!

For a toothfairy pillow of your own, click here

Yogic thoughts June 26, 2009

Things I was pondering during class yesterday evening…..

During Dandayamana Bibhaktpada Janushirasana, or ‘Standing separate leg head to knee pose’, while I was staring down the front of my tank-top, I thought about a few things.

1) I need a new sports bra

2) I definitely have a bigger ‘rack’ since V came along, which is probably why I need a new sports bra…

During Dandayamana Bibhaktpada Pashimottanasana or ‘standing separate leg stretching pose’ I thought about a few others.

Primarily about how I missed Spandex-Man. And also why that girl behind me thought it would be a good idea to wear light green spandexy pants with black panties. I mean really….. sweat+light colour pants= see-through

While I was trying to not fall over during Dandayamana Dhanurasana or ‘Standing bow pulling pose’, I thought that I might just hate the two girls on the other side of the room who did the pose effortlessly. And didn’t fall over even once. And then gracefully lowered their legs in unison….. *sigh* one day… Then I thought that hate was probably not something one should be dwelling on during yoga…. Probably I should be focusing on my pose. Which makes me fall over. And then I curse under my breath. Also not good during yoga class….

While I struggled to get my leg into a proper 45 degree angle during Trikanasana or ‘triangle pose’, I mentally cursed my instructor for singling out my friend and I and making us examples. As we finally got our legs in a position that he was pleased with, I felt my foot slowly loosing its grip on the carpet and slowly sliding backwards…. which brought my leg, knee and groin waaaaaay closer to the floor than I would have liked. I didn’t really want to re-learn how to do the splits in one evening. Damn that instructor! Damn him!

It had been 2 and a half weeks since I made it to a class, what with being on holiday in Canada and all. And I really felt it. While I only go once a week (as its all the time I can carve out), that once a week keeps me a sane, flexible person. I didn’t realize that it had made that much of an impact on my life until I took a wee hiatus…

Thank goodness it’s back in my life….

Girl Guides (and thunder storms) June 23, 2009

This morning we woke up to a crazy light show outside our apartment. Florida sure has some dramatic storms and this one was throwing a full-on temper-tantrum on our lawn.

Heavy thunder, freak lightening (a la strobe lights at a Britney Spears concert…. or so I imagine anyways) and torrential downpour aimed primarily at our bedroom window. This was around 5 am or so. V slept through the whole thing, to my surprise. M woke up briefly, uttered “Man, that’s loud…zzz..” and went back to sleep.

I lay awake until my alarm went off at 6:30, thinking that I am so not prepared for Hurricane season. I have no bottled water (except for the dead soliders around my side of the bed). I have no back-up baby anything. I have a few cans of Minestrone soup in the cupboard.

I suddenly had this vision of running out of fresh water and having to make formula with toilet water. No child of mine was going to drink a toilet bottle. I lay in bed muttering things to M like “We NEED supplies. Seriously M, we NEED them.” and “toilet water, no way!”.

When M called me later that day and announced that he and V were heading off to BJ’s (which is like Costco) and I practically yelled “GET WATER!!!!!!!” into the phone. Except I was at work, so I just said “Could you please pick up some water” in a well-modulated voice instead.

And then I had a flash-back to Girl Guide camp which, for my American readers out there, is the same as Girl Scouts except with less-gourmet cookies. Just plain vanilla and chocolate for us folks up North.

Anyways, we were given a wilderness survival kit at the beginning of camp. We were supposed to take it with us on all nature walks. I was fascinated. I vividly remember it containing a rain-slicker made out of a garbage-bag (with holes cut for arms and heads) and a package of raisins, which we were to regard as ‘sugar’ incase we got hypothermia from being out overnight in the cold, rainy, windy, spooky West Coast forest.

Again, I was fascinated by the idea of getting lost in the forest. Fascinated and scared at the same time.

One night after all of our Girl Guide campfire building and firewood collecting, all curled up in our bunkbeds, under the cover of my sleeping bag and using my flashlight, I emptied my survival kit and took a proper look at it all.

What it contained other than that garbage bag and those raisins, I couldn’t say…. I do know, however, that stale, illicit raisins eaten under a sleeping bag, on the top bunk in the dull glow of  a flashlight are delicious…. And that I am now the proud owner of a lot of emergency bottled water…… and that I will seriously try to not drink illicitly under the cover of my duvet…

For Girl Guides of Canada, click here

For Girl Scouts of America, click here

For raisins, click here

Banana (genius!) June 21, 2009

I thought a lot about flying with V before our actual trip. A lot.

I MIGHT have over-thought everything, just a bit. I was really trying to think about things to do with him on the plane, but with a one year old that is a little tricky. Things that would work on older and younger children I didn’t think would work with him.

He doesn’t sit still ever.

And hates being held quietly and rocked like a younger child possibly would. Oh, and screams when falls asleep.

So a lot of thought went into what to take in that diaper bag of mine.

Snacks, toys, bottles and juice. That is pretty much what I had. Oh, and a banana.

The Banana, or  the herbaceous plants of the genus Musa, is cultivated primarily for its fruit.

Bananas are grown in at least 107 countries. In  popular culture and commerce, “banana” usually refers to soft, sweet “dessert” bananas. The bananas from a group of cultivars with firmer, starchier fruit are called plantains. Bananas may also be cut and dried and eaten as a type of chip. Dried bananas are also ground into banana flour.

Although the wild species have fruits with numerous large, hard seeds, virtually all culinary bananas have seedless. Bananas are classified either as dessert bananas (meaning they are yellow and fully ripe when eaten) or as green cooking bananas.

V loves them, which was why I brought one. And spur of the moment, I decided to give the whole thing to him, skin and all to eat.

Holy burst of motherhood genius!!

That banana kept him occupied for about 25 minutes. I peeled the the skin back and let him hold the whole fruit, the skin draping down over those plump little fingers.

He was enchanted.

That little mouth didn’t know exactly what to do with it though. He tried to bite it with those 8 little teeth, but didn’t have much of an effect on the banana. He tried again, and managed to get some of the fruit in his mouth. With each bite he grew braver and braver, finally managing to take a whole mouthful of the fruit in one bite.

Banana was everywhere. How nice that I decided to save this moment for his first airplane ride, eh? It was on the airplane phone, the window, me, the seat in front of us, me again, him, all over him and his seatbelt and also my hands. I actually had a collection of banana pieces in my hand, the ones he didn’t feel like keeping in his mouth and spat out. Now normally I would just drop them on the floor and shout “Chewie!!! What’s this!!!” and our dog would come running and eat it.

That doesn’t quite fly on an airplane (harhar). So I just collected those little soggy bits in the palm of my hand and waited patiently for M to finish his diet soda so I could deposit them.

So word to the mothers out there. Bananas are genius for domestic flights!

Don’t, however, try and take one through customs entering the USA without declaring it, or you will be subjected to the excitement that we were (bag searches, flagged for the ‘short’ customs lineup (aka longest line ever with super strict scanning people) and having your bag swabbed for bomb residue). If you do bring any fruit through from Canada to the USA, make sure that it has the sticker on it. Apparently Canada imports from some countries that the USA doesn’t, and this is a huge issue.

Apart from that whole kerfuffle, I am a wellspring of motherhood genius! Banana! Genius!

Pox June 20, 2009

M is allergic to cats.

When he first told me this years ago, I thought he was lying. I really thought that he didn’t want to get a kitten/cat, anything of the feline persuasion as a pet. His family is more of a ‘dog’ family. And so years ago when he visited me in Canada and stayed at my parent’s house and started sneezing and rubbing his eyes repeatedly, I finally got the point. He was, in fact, not lying. Surprise!

My dear kitty that I had during University moved in with my parents when I moved to Japan. And when I moved back she continued to stay with them. They love her (as do I, she really is so sweet). On our recent trip to Canada, we slept in their bedroom with V, while my parents stayed in the guest house. There was much talk about making sure to keep the bedroom door closed as Molly-cat loves to sneak in there. Not only is M allergic, but my Step-dad is too so this was doubly important.

Despite all of these precautions (and leaving the bedroom window open all day and night), M still had bouts of sneezing and watery eyes…. it just couldn’t be helped.

One night we were all out on the patio. We had just finished a lovely visit with some family and friends, and were finishing off a quickly put-together smorgasbord of savory treats. There was a nice chill in the air, wine on the table and my sister and I got up to get hoodies and slippers so we could stay cozy while we all chatted on the deck.

I guess M and C must have looked a little cold, as my mum dashed back in and came out carrying 2 woolen blankets which she proceeded to toss on both of them. Satisfied that everyone was cosy and warm, we all continued laughing and joking for another hour or so before heading off to bed.

…….hours later…….. early morning…….

M woke up with his eyes practically stuck shut, sneezing like a mother-f’er, tears running down his face from how itchy his eyes are and totally congested.

“Don’t tell your mother, but I think that blanket has the pox,” he said, “It is my Kryptonite.” Apparently it was covered in cat hair.

I started laughing and thinking of course that I will have to write about this in my blog. M looked at me and I knew he was reading my mind. As soon as he started to say “Jame…..” I said “I will really try to not mention this….really. For real.” I am pretty sure he didn’t believe me. It might have been a little lie on my part…

Downstairs we trudged with V (M trying to hide his sneezes and red eyes). The pox blankets lay on an end table and V was reaching for them. “No honey,” I said, “Don’t touch the cat blankets.” (M evil eyed me in the background for uttering this outloud).

“Cat blanket?” someone piped up…

And then the story unfolded from my Stepdad.

“Ah, yes,” he said, “The cat used to sleep on it. I think we’ve had them for about 30 years and they’ve never been washed. Missy used to sleep on them too.” (Missy was a cat we had when I was in middle/high school)

This history of the pox blanket is revealed! I struggled to not look at M, for fear that the giggle in me would erupt and run totally out-of-control.

I just saved it all up for here instead….

Flirt June 19, 2009

Traveling with anyone gives you a great sense of how you relate to them…

When M and I traveled together for the first time, I knew immediately we were destined for marriage…

(ha! Just kidding!! I think I was all annoyed at him for something. So nothing has really changed since then. However, we travel really well together)

When Mum and I went to Kyoto for a wee trip (and actually the whole time she stayed with me in Japan, it was the same deal. We had no problems that we couldn’t resolve) We travel well together too.

We had never traveled seriously with Little Man before and, as we were soon to discover, traveling with children is interesting.

Our flight to Vancouver was a 2-parter, Orlando to Chicago/Chicago to Vancouver.

Part One: Disaster

Involving screaming, screaming, screaming. Break. (Involving eating). Screaming, screaming, screaming. Deplane.

It. Was. AWFUL.

Part Two: Tsunami

Waves and waves of screaming/quiet, screaming/quiet. AWFUL. This went on for 3 hours.

In the Customs lineup, someone from our flight leaned over the railing in front of us and said “He didn’t really sleep that much, did he?”. Um, no. No he didn’t. Thanks for pointing that out. I hadn’t noticed at all.

In between the bouts of screaming and sleep were these rather interesting moments, where V was assessing the cabin. He likes to make eyecontact with everyone and when he does he breaks out into the hugest, most flirtatious smile you have ever seen. Those big brown eyes of his are so engaging…

So full of charm, in fact, that one Flight Attendant declared that we might be related as V apparently looked just like her brother, and she doted on him the entire flight. Her co-worker declared him to be “The Cutest Baby I have Ever Seen” (and, she also said, ‘I have seen a lot’). Of course M and I soaked this all up… (and might have preened a little as well).

And it went on and on… People…. well, women really, peering around corners and stating that he was gorgeous. That he was flirting with them. And just giggling inanely and waving like idiots….

And this is when I got the first inkling that I might have given birth to a future heart-throb…..

Right now it is adorable. Charming. Makes my heart burst… 15 years from now? It will probably make my heart break.

Pomp and Circumstance June 8, 2009

A first birthday party is a big deal, as I was soon to discover. To be honest, its something that has been on my mind  for the past 6 months. This party has gone through many any reincarnations. It started out as an 80’s themed party (and in retrospect, what on earth was I planning), moved onto a ‘Star’ themed party and then just moved into a ‘party’ themed party.

I was even going to make mix-cd’s as party favours until Mike and I listened to what I had so far and we realized that I have crappy taste in music. I mean, we already knew that (seriously, who buys the Aqua cd and enjoys the other songs on it apart from “Barbie Girl”).

Regardless, I finally worked out what I wanted to do, bought everything (frequent trips to Target, BJ’s and Costco), had frequent chats with my mother-in-law re: invitations and organization.

Every question I asked M was answered like this “Whatever you think is best” or like this “That sound’s like a great idea honey!”, but no actual input. That’s fine. We all know how much I like lists and planning 🙂

Lets just say that I stayed up way too late the night before (cousin love, really, ain’t such a bad thing) and got up way too early. And then baked things all morning. And decorated. And fought some nasty woman in the party store for balloons. AND won. And walked victoriously out to the parking lot where I fought to get those balloons in my small car. Where approx 1/5th of them popped. Awesome.

Anyways, I am pretty sure I worked myself up into a right and proper state. Surprising? No. Not really.

It’s genetic.

This is a cautionary tale to those parents who have yet to experience the first birthday party.

Examples:

Do not make a commemorative cd.

Do not invite 30 people.

Do not expect your child to think cake is awesome.

Also do not expect your child to enjoy having 30 people clapping and staring at him in unison.

Forget to drink water. And forget to eat as you are fussing over everything so much.

And finally, expect to be totally exhausted, so thoroughly exhausted that perhaps you need to take a nap. And take one. For real.

I did.

And I felt much better.

I still need a few days to recover though. It’s almost the equvalent of hitting up the bars Saturday night when you are about 23. Think headache, exhaustion and inability to eat anything (except that nasty nacho cheese you can get at 7-11).

So ladies (and gentlemen) plan these parties carefully. And post-first party, think ahead carefully to next year. Now you have experience…. you can survive…

Dedication June 5, 2009

Shopping at Whole Foods the other day (I might as well add them as a sponser I am there so much) looking for peanut butter substitutes.

See if you can follow my logic here. Peanut-butter substitutes are mostly for people who are allergic to peanuts. Correct? Or for people who have wide and adventurous palates… perhaps?

OK, so lets say we swing with the allergy folks, we know there are lots of you out there. If you are like me, you read the ingredients because just saying that it’s peanut-free on the label is not enough for me. I need to check and see for myself. When I see things like…. oh…. I don’t know, perhaps an addition-slash-warning on a label that says something like “Made in a facility that uses machinery that also processes peanut products“….

DANGER DANGER WILL ROBINSON! DANGER!!

Seriously…. I am disappointed in you. Why would I let my child eat a product that quite potentially has come in contact with something he is really allergic to? Do you think I am stupid? Or perhaps you think I don’t read?

This was what I noticed as I carefully perused the ‘nutbutter’ selection at Whole Foods. I know there are sunflower butters and soy nut butters. Yes, yes… I know all about these…. but what I am looking for is something that actually tastes good.

A few months ago I bought soynut butter. The first few tastes were pretty good. V even liked it!

It makes me gag. For real. There is an awful after-taste of soynuts that, it turns out, make me heave even thinking about it. AND I like roasted soynuts. Just something about the butter, I guess. And looking at the sunflower butter made me think similar things. I like sunflower seeds. I don’t want them to be ruined for me too.

And that is when I started thinking about hazelnuts, almonds and other yummy nuts. Especially hazelnuts. Hazelnut butter sounds divine.

Guess what? All the brands that Whole Foods stocked were all processed in plants that also process peanuts. So thats the end of that.

I left sooooo mad. Not at Whole Foods, but at the brands out there that aren’t looking at the whole picture. You can take the step to branch out to an area that you will have success in, but are incapable of seeing beyond that little area.

Dedicated factories man…. now thats what I am talking about. Come on, be ballsy…… take that next step….

To read about a family being nut-free (and egg-free), check this out. It certainly is interesting to read about what a family with a pretty serious situation does. My kudos to them for find new and interesting ways to make it work with little kids…

Canadian Training June 3, 2009

V is currently sleeping with blankets. I am calling this ‘training for Canada’ as it is not as warm as it is down here in Florida. Let’s face it….. nothing is….

I even bought him long pajamas for those ‘harsh Canadian summers’ (as M terms it). But it IS cooler!

AND I even bought him shoes. Shoes that fit (although one pair looks ridiculously large on those little fat feet). There was no way that we were flying into another country with my child barefoot. And also no way that I would be paying $25 for a pair of baby-crocs. It’s bad enough that I spent $25 on a metal water bottle. I can use that forever. But $25 on a pair of shoes that, let’s face it, will only last him 10 days is hard to handle….

The reason I was looking at Crocs is that they apppeared to a sort of ‘multitasking shoe’ and I am all over the multitasking idea. Sort of a summer*slash*winter (in FL, that is)with socks shoe, that won’t suddenly not fit him overnight (because of the heel strap, I am thinking). But $25? I think not. I almost got sucked into the ‘Whole Foods’ web of entrapment on Saturday…. I managed to walk past the expensive water bottles (because lord knows I couldn’t excuse a second one) and walked right into the baby-Crocs aisle. But I resisted…. stayed strong….  I would have been laughed at forever if I returned from Whole Foods with another expensive purchase.

Blankets…. check!

Shoes….. check!

He is now conditioned for those rough Canadian summers. He wears shoes like a champ and can snuggle with blankets like a pro…

He is on a Maple syrup diet too, and smells deliciously sweet all the time. I really could lick his little cheeks everytime I smell the syrup on him. Such a delicious way for small children to smell. And taste.

Just wait until he tries it on Nanna’s wheat-free pancakes…. And she gets a whiff of that delicious smell on his cubby little face. She will lose herself in love with him just like I am…..

StarWars May 31, 2009

M and I ventured to DisneyWorld today with V…. always fun to do on the weekend, and since we get in for free there is really no reason not to go.

On our arrival I heard some familiar music. I couldn’t place it at first, but the closer we got to the enterance and then as we were walking through the bag-search area it struck me. Star Wars. Oh my….

It was StarWars weekend at Hollywood studios! How did I not know that they did this? I was sure that M would have mentioned it to me since I thought he was ‘Star Wars obsessed’. But, as he told me while we hustled through the crowds,  “I’m not really that into it anymore”. Bullsh*t is what I thought of that statement. Pretty much all men are in love with Star Wars. As they all love Westerns. And The Godfather. And if they protest that they don’t like either of those 3, they are lying!

Once we got through the main gates of MGM (or HollyWood Studios as it’s called now), there was a full-on StarWars parade in action. Storm Troopers all over the place. Chewbacca carrying C-3P0. Darth Vader. Etc.

I personally saw 4 children dressed up as Storm Troopers (and one who’s Mum didn’t do up the back of his costume and his tush was hanging out.) One grown man dressed as as Anakin. One dressed as Obi-Wan. One man pushing a baby stroller coming out of a gift shop dressed up in an orange pilot costume.

V wasn’t interested in anything at all. In fact, we took him to Muppets 3-D Adventure and with all that noise and us trying to fuss with 3-D glasses on his face (for fun) he fell fast asleep on Daddy. Fast asleep. M turned to me and said “He is totally going to sleep like this on the plane.” Oh god I hope so….

Home from the parks, V in bed early, post dinner, M and I are indulging in a ‘True Blood’ marathon. Pretty much the furthest thing away from StarWars that you could ever get. Dare I say that we like it more?

Blasphemy!