Where Have I Been?

Okay, things have been a bit crazy on this end, and well, come the end of the night, I'm too tired to blog.

So, let's do this point form.

• Miles is now walking like a mad man. "Gotta Go" is his favorite saying, so needles to say I"m always going, and I have no choice, I gotta.
• I got stung on my foot by a beet at the park. I stepped on it. It hurt like hell. Foot swelled, ankle swelled. Couldn't walk for a day.
• Dave got a new job.
• A new job in another city.
• We are moving.
• We can finally buy a house.
• We are packing.
• We are looking for a new house to buy.
• We are BUSY.

So if anyone has been wondering where I, or my head has been...That's where. Well that and it's summer, and I'm enjoying it.

So on the aside...I have a cold sore. Shit. I've never had a cold sore in my entire life....PISSED. I always looked at people with cold sores and thought, "Poor guy/girl, that must suck". Well now I can tell you first hand how much it sucks. First off I can't kiss Miles or Dave. You don't realize how much you kiss your family until you can't kiss them anymore. Secondly, the stares...ooooo the stares. I don't have a fucking disease...Just herpes. SHIT I HAVE HERPES. God couldn't they have come up with something nicer sounding? I'm going to now refer to this nastiness on my lip as a sun blister. Brought on by stress, menstruation, and uh...Poor diet? People will fall for that. Yeah. Yeah. This sun blister better get the hell off my lip soon, I got a wedding to go to in a few weeks. I hear these things can last a month. Again with the PISSED, and the shit, shit, shit, I hate sun blisters.

I'll try my best to continue blogging though moving insanity. I really will. After all, with our history of moving and all that it has to offer, this one should generate a few good laughs...and this time we have a kid! I'll also try my best to write a few more chapters to my previous postings.

Friendship After Baby: Chapter One. What To Expect....The Reality

Grade 12.

What a wonderful year.

Another year of under age drinking...And other sorts of experimentation. A year of amazing camping trips, sleepovers, naked runs, and bush parties. The year most of my closest friends were made.

It was not like grade 9 where you searched through endless faces for people you could call friends. Spending time with people you would rather not because for some reason or another, they were cool.

By grade 12 I had my group of friends established, both male and female. I consider myself lucky for having met such amazing individuals at such a young age. Friends I still have today. Of course I've meet new friends along they way, amazing friends, but my friends from highschool are still some of my most cherished friends. Some people don't even remember the friends they had in highschool, lost contact, moved apart, or so and so cheated on me with so and so, so I don't like so and so anymore.

The girls and The guys. 10 girls. 7 guys. That is how we refer to one another. "The girls are going out tonight", "Some of the guys will be there". Our group of friends, as beautiful as we are, are not without our faults. Some of us, for one reason or another don't talk as much, but through one another we still always know how we are each doing. Despite our issues, we always ask how each other is doing.

We aren't some freaky clique of people. We are quite kind to most people, and always welcome new friends, we always did. We are all unique, we always were. I'm not going to say we were popular, because we went to a school where not too much of that existed. "

I am one of "the girls". Dave is one of "the guys" (by they way, the first picture is of Dave in a sexy red suit for prom) . I'm lucky that way. I have the best of both worlds, though I'm sure some of "the girls" would beg to differ.

2005 Enters Beautiful Baby Miles

I'm 31 now. I'm married. I have a baby. I have many new and wonderful friends, along with the ones I had in highschool. Quite a few of my friends are married, but only two have children. Both of which live far away.

What I Imagined After Baby

I would deliver a wonderful child, all our friends would be around us, supporting us, laughing with us and creating memories with us. Friends would visit often, friends understand.

What Really Happened

I delivered a wonderful, precious, beautiful baby boy. The friends that were able to be there, were there (see first post), supporting us, laughing with us, and creating memories with us. Many friends didn't visit often. Many friends didn't understand. I felt like a stranger among my friends.

When Miles first arrived there was a slew of visitors to greet precious Miles into this world. Friends to tell our birth story to. Then, days and nights became one. Sleeping when I had the chance to, nursing, cuddling, loving Miles and Dave. Days passed. Friends called less, and calling friends became difficult, laborious sometimes. I was never sure how much they wanted to hear about Miles (because surely I could talk for hours) so I often asked of what filled their days and I listened. And when is a good time to call?

I had imagined I would see them more. I often felt left out. Saturday night would arrive and I wouldn't get invited out. Not that I was going to go. I was happy to stay with my new family. Though an invitation would have been nice from time to time. I know most of my friends didn't ask because they thought it would be rude to, because I wouldn't be able to go anyways. This is was a difficult time for me. I've always been quite social. Close with my friends. Talking every day to many of them. About people we saw on the street or the bus, or an act of kindness, or a thing of beauty. Now my life was Miles. Miles and Dave. Walks in the park. Nursing. Bad daytime television. Nursing. Sleeping. Not sleeping. My life was baby. I felt alone. No friends near me to relate to these changes. No one to understand the isolation I felt when Dave was at work.

One Year Later

My friendships are a lot easier now that Miles is older. I can go out. I'm no longer a slave to the boob. Many of my friendships on a social level have been rekindled, not that they were ever lost. Contact was simply less frequent with many of them. Many of these friendships however, exist outside of me being a parent (Don't get me wrong, they get their earfull about Miles).

I miss that many of them don't get to see Miles on a regular basis as I had imagined they would. I envisioned Miles would know all my friends names before he could walk. That he would smile from ear to ear when they arrived (ok he smiles regardless). That they would know first hand all of his quirks and his character. I do have friends who go the extra distance to spend time with the little guy, and who want to hear what new things he's doing when they aren't around. Friends Miles knows and loves. Friends who know exactly how I feel about my friendships and how sad I have been over them. So I wasn't totally alone.

So when did I get to be the centre of the universe anyways?

I realize that my friends have lives too. That Miles goes to bed before many of them get home from work and have dinner. That weekends are often full of activities, especially during the summer. I've spent a lot of time thinking about my friendships and how selfish we all are when it comes to friendship. I am as much to blame, for when a close friend of mine had a baby I didn't reach out as much as I should have. She lives far away, but now that I know what I know. I realize I could have been a better friend.

I know many of my friends plan on having children. I hope that none of them experience these feelings I've had about friendships since I've had Miles. I know how lonely it can be, so I intend to reach out.

No one told me that having a baby would put such a strain on my friendships. No one told me it was going to be so hard to be one of the first among friends to have a baby. No one told me.

What To Expect....The Reality. The Unwritten Book For Expecting Parents.

Sometimes I disappear. But I'm not gone. Just thinking. Playing. Laughing. Reading. Running. It's summer and I'm enjoying it.

I read a lot of pre pregnancy books while I was pregnant. I even read them before I was pregnant. Through the writings of midwives, doctors, and mothers, I came to expect pain and joy. There were books that told me how much weight I was supposed to gain (liars), books that told me how our baby was growing, when to expect kicks, when to expect aches, and how difficult it might be to breastfeed. This list of knowledge (unwanted or not) is endless. I don't claim to be an expert, and don't understand anyone who does, except the biology of it all of course.

There are things however that I have experienced that were never written about. Important things. Things that I would have appreciated having some understanding before they happened. Perhaps it's just a part of parenthood, and this knowledge comes with the package. Some may argue that I am compulsive when it comes to being prepared (though now I have a baby, they can no longer argue that point). There are however a few things I would have appreciated time to understand.

During my pregnancy I can't begin to tell you the number of times I heard, "Having a baby will change everything". Well, no shit. I thought things would be exactly the same as they were. Needless to say, OF COURSE there is truth in this. Go Figure.

So I guess it is the everything that I would l would like to explore. What is everything that changes, and what do I wish I knew before I had a baby that would have better prepared me?

• How much more I would fall in love with Dave.
• How much unwanted advice I was going to get and how to deal with it.
• How having a baby would affect my friendships.
• How I see my parents in a new light.
• What about me?
• Time.
• Appreciation.
• How upsetting weaning would be.
• ..........Well, basically EVERYTHING I guess. HA!

Over the next few days, I am going to take some of the everything that I have found have had the most impact on me write about them. Why? I don't know. I feel like it.

A New Tradition?

Some people need coffee in the morning to wake up and some people need to take a shower. Others can get along fine without either. My dad needs the newspaper. Let's discuss to what extent.

The year...hmm...Somewhere between 1983 - 1985. I can't exactly remember. I was young, that's all I remember.

It was morning. It was dark. The sky was ominously green. Pea soup green. Like a tornado is going to strike down anytime soon green. The thunder was loud. Rock concert loud. Standing beside a speaker at a rock concert loud. The lightening was fierce. Step off your porch and I'll strike your ass down fierce. For all storm lovers (my family included) it was beautiful. Watch from the porch beautiful, not dance in the streets barefoot because it's just so beautiful beautiful (that's only reserved for showers, not tornadoes). We used to get our chairs out on the porch, blankets if necessary, and watch the storm.

The car, a Voltswagon Thing. It looked just like the cars below, only it was yellow. Sunshine yellow. Please note: Canvas roof (totally practical). Plastic windows (you had to unzip them to open them). The passenger window on our was ripped, and held together with duct tape (along with many other things in that car).

Instead of asking if I wanted to join the family on the porch and watch a seriously wicked storm, my dad looked at me and said, "Heather, we're going to get the paper". I don't think I had a choice in the matter. I know it seemed ridiculous at the time, but I also know I wasn't scared.

I remember my mom running out to the car trying to stop us. I can't remember what she said, but it was likely somewhere along the lines of, "Are you fucking crazy Tony? Do you really need a paper that bad. Can't you just wait?". I imagine my dad's response was something along the lines of, "Don't worry, we'll be quick. I'll keep the car running, and Heather can run in and get it" (UM...WHAT?)

Driving away I could see my mother. Well, a sort of warped version of her, because when you look through plastic windows covered with rain, things are just not as clear as they should be (a little safety feature courtesy of VW). That and the duct tape was blocking my view. She was clearly pissed (though I believe she was secretly happy that she would soon have the crossword in her hands).

Crazy drive to the store. Windy, low visibility, flooding in the streets, branches falling, thunder that shook your body to the core, rain pouring hard, rain pouring through the holes in the plastic windows, me holding the door closed because sometimes it just didn't want to shut.

Shortly after (in my dads defense, the store wasn't that far), we arrived at Beckers (I still miss Beckers chocolate milk...Straight from the jug). I ran out, now it was hailing...Large balls of hail...Dent the car large (lucky me). I have to admit, it was exciting.

I grabbed the paper and proceeded to the counter. The store clerk looked at me like, you are too young to be reading the paper, and clearly if you do read the paper, what kind of parents let you out in this weather. It was that moment that I saw the clerk look out the store window, see my father (more likely the bright yellow car), waved (yeah like he can see you) and looked at me and said, "Is that your dad? Nice guy. Crazy, but nice." Crazy but nice. "Yup, that's my dad".

Another crazy drive home.

We arrive back home. I can't remember how pissed my mother was, if she was at all. I'm sure she got over it as soon as she got her crossword, and discussed the foolishness of our actions with the family on the porch (watching the storm of course)....Wait...I'm not taking the blame for that...We were discussing the foolishness of dads actions.

Since Miles was born, we have watched many storms go by on our porch (I'm so lucky to have a husband that loves storms as much as I do). Now that Miles is older, he sees and points out the lightening, and he gets so excited, just like his parents. I hope to watch many storms, wicked storms, fierce storms, thunder storms, lightening storms with my family. And if Miles is lucky..I just may take him to the store in the middle of a tornado to buy a news paper. Perhaps I'll make it a tradition.

IT.

Yes folks, there is another world out there. A world of "mommy bloggers" (rumor has it there are "daddy bloggers" too). Yes, it is scary, but as a mommy...And well, a "mommy blogger", I must admit, there are a few mommy bloggers I love and visit often (they make me laugh). There are even a few mommy bloggers that I don't love (they make me angry), but visit anyways...WHY? Cause it makes me feel better.

In this world of mommy madness a game of tag is being played. The Misadventures of (Mommy) Laural (she's one of the good ones...Really she is) has been so kind enough to tag me **hint of sarcasm (I dislike tag, never liked it on the playground...Always running around aimlessly, chasing the almighty untaggable.**. Kind enough to make me realize that five is a very difficult number (though it does make for an easy post). I know it's not your fault Laural, you are merely playing the game....As will I. I think it's bad luck or something to not continue the game, like something really bad happens, like you lose a toe or something.

NOTE: "My" has been changed to "My/Our"...If you think I'm taking all the blame you've got another thing coming.

5 Things in My/Our Refrigerator:

**See Previous Post**

5 Things in My/Our Closet:

1. Three Bags of nice clothing that hopefully someday soon will fit again (No comments from the peanut gallery please...I am well aware that Miles is one now) .
2. Underwear (Type: Granny...ahh the comfort....The sexy ones are in the bag of clothing that no longer fit) .
3. Dave's underwear (even the ones with holes...Just incase he runs out of the other 30 good pairs he has) .
4. Socks (Same deal as number 3. You can't reach into the sock pile without finding at least three pairs you refuse to wear because they have holes....You can't argue with him on this one....Really....What if we run out of good socks?....I'd rather go barefoot) .
5. A pillow that Miles peed on.

5 Things in My Handbag:

**I don't have a handbag. I have an immensely large and extremely ugly pink wallet with hearts. It cost me ten dollars. I shove all my crap in the stroller...Which is basically my wallet. I'm a no make up, no fuss kinda gal.

5 Things in My/Our Car:

1. Lots of music .
2. Pop cans that Dave has shoved under the seat because he thinks I won't know they are there. 3. A Baby on Board sign. Speaking of which, Baby on Board signs work to your advantage, but also against....Yes other drivers back off (a bit) when you are driving, BUT when you are driving on your own, without baby, speeding and listening to music full blast (because you can't when baby is in the car....ahh Such freedom), people look at you like you are an awful person for driving like a crazy person because they think you have a baby in the car.
4. A plaid sheet (seriously but ugly) that we put up in the back seat because we think it prevents dog hair from getting everywhere....Yeah right.
5. SHIT LOADS OF DOG HAIR .

Now the way the game goes, is that I tag someone (it should be five people, but I don't know five bloggers personally). So, sorry to those of you I've tagged before (yes I have played before...again with the fear of losing toes), but Emily, Tawny, Anna Lee and hrm....Well I think that's it. You are IT.

Gratuitous Baby Photo

*Read sign*

Reality In My Fridge, 7 Months Later

**Click to view**
Reality In My Fridge Part One

This evening after I put Miles to sleep I decided that I needed a beer. That's when it hit me. My fridge, just as it was seven months ago, is still very telling of my/our reality.

There are a few differences

1. NO! It's not the same beer, infact it has been replaced many times (company, and a few good nights, we aren't alcoholics.....Yet....We are saving that for retirement...Kidding...Jesus . YES! It is still demoted to the bottom of the fridge door.

2. Never has a jug of Homo milk graced my fridge before. Now a new one is there every few days. I admit...It makes my coffee so much more yummy.

3. Not since I lived in Field B.C. have I seen such chaos in a fridge (I had six roommates then). Note that the beer has it's own special place in the fridge. Is this still considered and demotion if it has it's own home in the fridge door? Seems to me, it says, we care Alexander Keith...And until I get pregnant again. I will visit you. Not as often as I used to, but I will visit.

And some things never change

1. We still like orange juice.

2. Apparently we don't like the sweet chili sauce that is located on the top shelf in the door. Mental note, throw away before next reality In My Fridge Blog

3. Actually if you look at both pictures, a lot doesn't change...It just gets moved around. Mental note, clean fridge.

**Go ahead, laugh. But I bet if you took a picture of your fridge and looked at it in seven months, you'd get a pretty good idea of your reality too!**

Baby Park

I have always hated "dog park". We have always avoided taking Chewy to dog park, though sometimes Dog Park happens when you least expect it, and all of a sudden you are in Dog Park. Dog park freaks the shit out of me.

Definition of Dog Park: Any random park that often lazy, freakish individuals (we will herein refer to them as Dog Parkers) take their dogs to play with other dogs who have similar owners. Dog park is never "organized" per say, although everyone "conveniently" shows up at the same time, morning and night. Hmmm.

Why do I hate dog park? Well.....

1. It really bothers me that people don't take their dogs for a walk. Instead of exercising their "four footed best friend" they take their dogs to Dog Park where fifteen other dogs and Dog Parkers gather. These dogs basically stay around their owners (who are chatting mindlessly and endless about meaningless crap) sniff each others asses, watch each other crap, and have pissing competitions. Rarely will a Dog Parker throw a ball for Spot, play with FooFoo, or even pet them for that matter. Half the time the lazy ass Dog Parkers drive to the park. What the?

2. Dog Parkers never refer to one another by first name. Instead they refer to one another as insert dog name here's owner. I found myself in dog park once, or should I say it found me. The Dog Parker struck up a conversation with me, I said "My name is Heather" (shit why did I say that?). They said "I'm Sallies owner". Looks like Sally wasn't the only bitch in the park.

3. Conversation between Dog Parkers consist of a) Breed of dog? b) How old is dog? c) My dog does this...My dog does that...My dog does the other thing. Good For You and Your Dog.

4. All Dog Parkers think their dogs love Dog Park. In actuality, their dogs would rather be in a hike in the forest, cruising the neighbourhood pissing on every post, tree and garden or chasing a ball thrown clear across the park by their owner.

Dog Park Pisses Me Off

**CUT TO PLAYGROUND**

Pushing Miles on the swing.

Look to left, empty swing.

Look to right, another parent pushing their child.

Conversation begins a) How old is she?...Oops its a he. b) What is baby's name?...Never introducing themselves, just offering baby's name. c) My baby can do this...My baby can do that...May baby does the other thing.

I believe there are many amazing parents and families can be met in the playground (yes potential future best friends for Miles, so I best be on my best behaviour), but is my playground turning into some warped version of Dog Park?

Ok Baby Park is way better than Dog Park...like a million times better... than Dog Park, but I still think it's weird.

BABY PARK:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MILES

There are things that make me laugh, nothing things, not necessarily laugh out loud things, not necessarily always funny, more along the absurd or just plain stupid, but I laugh. Inside. At it all. Things like people who won't give up their seats on the subway for the pregnant or elderly you know they are secretly asking themselves, "Is she really pregnant or just fat?" and "How old is too old to stand on the subway?", old men that randomly fart and know they can get away with it just because they are old (apparenlty that either means they don't know any better, or the poor dears just lack the control), my neighbours (long story)......Stupid shit really.

There is drunken, induced, uncontrollable laughter. When it's really not funny, but hell yes, it really is.

This could get out of control so I'll stop. Lets just say...I LAUGH...A LOT...Thank You Very Much. I have enjoyed amazing friendships in my life, I have laughed immensely at myself, by myself and with people I love.

Nothing in my life has brought me such happiness and laughter as this little beauty right here....













Doesn't it just bring tears to your eyes?

On June 10th Miles turned one. It's hard to believe that THIS (click for story of Miles' birth) is what was going on in my life on June 10th one year ago. Major surgery never seemed more worth it.

On Miles' birthday we had a party at my parents house. Good friends and family, cake, presents, a bocci tournament and lots of food. Miles had a great time. He was of course clueless to the fact that it was a very special day for him (and us). A day that when he gets a bit older will be celebrated by overdosing on cake and ice cream. A day he will fall asleep hugging his favorite new truck. A day that when he gets way older he will celebrate by drinking alcohol and dancing. A day that when he gets way way older he will celebrate with his new family and old friends from highschool. A day that when he gets way way way older he might wish he wasn't celebrating another year at all.

It was nice to have people we love around us to celebrate the most amazing, wonderful, intense, and interesting year of our life with. So thank you for everyone who came, it truly meant a lot to us.

Two cakes. One for us....one for Miles (and Bo). At this point in the game Miles was tired, that is until fistfulls of orange and black frosting entered his system. Below you see a smiling Miles loving the fact that everyone is singing to him. He then tentatively approaches his cake

Enter BO

Following Bo's lead, the cake is destroyed and both are covered in a sugary mess. IT WAS LOVELY!

Below are some photos of the bocci tournament (congrats to the winners Michelle and Rob...It was a heated battle...Jody and Mike will eventually recover from that amazing come back victory. It seems as if alcohol really does get you places Michelle!) and some shots of the party.
















oh and one more thing............

Doesn't Dean look Hot? It was his birthday too...Poor guy had to share his special day with a one year old. He drank himself silly later that evening (so difficult to share, that lime light). He wore a flashy pin that said "Look who's turning 30" to make himself feel better.....well that and about 30 beers. It's a miracle he didn't fall into the marina on a smoke break.

Looking forward to many more years of laughter. Thank you Miles for coming into our lives, it has been amazing.

That's It. I'm Stapling The Keys To My Thigh.

Miles and I recently had our first road trip together. No dad, just the two of us. Miles slept almost the entire way there. He was the best travel buddy ever. Didn't mind my singing or my music. Didn't mind that when I recited his favorite books for memory, that the book was not present. Didn't mind still facing the back of the vehicle with no one there to keep him company.

The way home was a different story.

For starters I decided to wear my contacts so that I could wear sun glasses....This was bad decision #1. I left without eating breakfast,having had numerous cups of coffee and no bathroom break....Bad decision #'s 2,3&4. We left for Miles' first nap so that he could get some good sleeping in while I drove. The roads were not too busy but the wind was killer, and the sun was half way between being not too bright, but bright enough that I needed sunglasses. Miles slept. While I drove, I contemplated my sheer genius for remembering to wear my contacts so that I could wear my sunglasses. I contemplated how brilliant I was that I remembered to put a good CD in the player before I left (instead of waiting till I started to drive). Then I acknowledged my stupidity for not eating, and drinking way too much coffee for my own good (for those of you who don't know me, when I am not pregnant I pee like I am...Now imagine me pregnant). I knew this was going to result in an early rest stop.

By the time we hit the Ingersol rest stop (going east bound) my contacts were feeling like shriveled up prunes (recontemplated my genius) and my eyes were killing me,I was starving, and I had to pee like a mo-fo....Yet still wanted another coffee (oooo and it was a Timmy Ho's stop too!). Pulling over to stop. I decided that since I was going to have to wake Miles to participate in this whole ordeal that I might as well give him a snack as well. So I did. In the serious wind, rain (oh yes, it's raining now) and cold. I remember everything for Miles but nothing for myself. I don't care. I'm cold and I'll figure it out later.

We get inside. I go to the bathroom. Speaking of which. How are you supposed to take a piss (change a tampon) wipe and wash your hands with a baby all by yourself? It's a public bathroom, I can't put him on the floor, he's freaking cause it stinks like a public bathroom and I'm no where near giving him the well deserved attention the he so feels he deserves. Hold him? Force him to stand and hold himself up? If anyone has that figured out, let me know. Poor kid, way more exposed to things he need not be. I change his diaper, and leave to feed him his snack.

mmmmm...Miles has his snack.

No food or coffee for me (forgot my wallet in the car), can't change my contacts (forgot all my stuff in the car). Guess we are done at the rest stop, leaving me to change my contacts in the car. Still raining, still windy, still cold. Make it to the car. Put Miles in the passenger seat while I change my contacts beside him. Don't want to put him in his car seat longer than necessary. He freaks if he's in the car seat and the car is not moving. Don't blame him, that seat looks so deceiving. Cushiony yet strappy and restraining all at the same time.

Contacts are out, glasses on.

I reach for the back door and unlock the lock (yes manual locks). I lock passenger door. Put Miles in his car seat. Lock door. Go to get into drivers seat. Door locked. No keys in pocket. No fucking keys in my pocket!!! Look to passenger seat. Keys sitting on seat.

Baby locked in car.

Shit Shit Shit. First reaction was to run from door to door trying to open them. I did that three times. My second reaction was to kick in the window, but decided that may not be the best option a)it would be a cold, wet drive home and b)it would likely scare the crap out of Miles.

I look to a man getting in his car beside mine and said "Oh my god, I just locked my baby in my car". He looks at me and said "Really?" Then shut his door and pulled away. To him I send out a great big virtual FUCK YOU! I looked at Miles. Not yet crying, but trying to figure out what the hell it is I'm doing....why isn't she getting in? Why is she staring at me? Lets get this show on the road. I look up and see a woman and a man carrying a small child. They will help, I know it. I ask them please to help me and the man pulled out his phone and was dialing roadside assistance like he was a pro. The woman took baby inside. I don't blame her...Cold, raining, wind, yadda yadda yadda. The man had someone coming to help me in less than 15 minutes. I just wanted to hug him, but he looked like the type that wouldn't appreciate a hug from some stranger. Hugged him anyways. I really was thankful for his help. He just looked cold and wet.

I spent the next fifteen minutes trying to entertain Miles with a plastic cow I happened to have in my pocket, as well as various versions of peek a boo through three windows. I'm sure people thought I was a mixture of a lunatic and the worlds worst mother. Miles only cried once, with thanks to strangers that helped to entertain here and there. He always loves people and new faces. Some even got him to laugh. Thank you. It seemed like an eternity, but 15 minutes later the tow truck showed up, and in all of about 30 seconds my door was unlocked.

GREAT BIG SIGH OF RELIEF

He took one look at Miles and said, "Why couldn't your kid just unlock the door?". "He's not even a year old" I said. I mean I'd like to think he's a genius, but I know for certain he can't open a lock on command.

So completely guilt ridden I took Miles out of the car seat. Hugged him and played with him for an hour before we got in the car and drove home. Miles slept the entire way, clueless that his mommy just locked him in the car.

I only cried once.

When I got home and saw Dave I gave him a huge hug and embarassingly told him what happened. Of course my version of the story was way too drawn out for him, and he's made fun of me numerous times since. One of my friends told me that you aren't officially a mother until you lock your kid in the car at least once. I felt better for a second, then felt bad again.

I will NEVER lock Miles in the car again...Unless he locks himself in (which is highly likely).

That's it.

I'm stapling the keys to my thigh.

Ode To The Belly That Was

In less than a month Miles will be one. It's hard to believe that this coming weekend last year, I was thinking that I was going to have a baby. I was due May 24th (Miles decided to arrive June 10th) . I figured he was going to have some kick ass birthday celebrations when he got older with a birthday on the 2-4 weekend (likely ones I didn't want to hear about, but kick ass nonetheless). Little did I know that I was going to be weeks overdue.

Lets face it, for those of you that knew me when I was pregnant it got pretty ugly near the end (who am I kidding, despite all my exercise I grew like a...lets just say I got big fast). I WAS HUGE!!! I should have known a ten pounder was in there waiting & waiting and waiting.

Today I raise a glass of wine to my big ole belly (because I certainly couldn't then). Despite the gynormous sizes that this body achieved (I'm sure thanks to chocolate), I really miss the old belly. Rubbing it, reading to it, blasting music against it, getting automatic seats on the TTC with it, and feeling the sweetness inside of it.































......After the 3 days overdue photo no more photos were taken (that would just be cruel and unusual punishment to myself) until Miles was born....and we haven't stopped taking photos since.

Educational Toys?....I'll take the.....

I spend so much time and energy trying to figure out how I can stimulate Miles' mind in new ways. As you can see from the previous post, at times I have resorted to pots and pans (simple pleasures). I have threaded shoe laces through wooden spatulas, put uncooked noodles in old cottage cheese containers, and put myself in a variety of contorted positions just for a laugh.

We don't really have a tonne of toys (although he also hasn't had a birthday yet either), we buy new ones here and there (mostly second hand, as we never know if he's going to like them or not) because we think he's bored of the old ones, but that doesn't seem to be the case. We bring the toys home, put them together, feel completely accomplished that we constructed it properly and Miles takes one look and bangs on the floor with his block. Not interested in the least. He's not bored with his toys, he just has no interest in them what so ever. He really is content with climbing stairs, ripping my favorite books, opening the door closing the door, opening the door closing the door, opening the door closing the door, and eating Starbucks coffee cups.

We spend a lot of our time outdoors walking and pointing. The horticulturalist in me will have him identifying the rarest of plants in no time. Miles points at a tree and instead of me saying "tree", I say "that's a Norway Maple, or that's a Redbud". I then correct myself and say "Norway Maple Tree". On our walks he points out flowers all the time too. It kills me to just say "flower" and leave it at that (I want to say Trillium, Tulip, Peony) .

The other portion of our time is dedicated to feeding, cruising around the house, eating Chewy's dog food, dropping things in Chewy's water dish, dive bombing off the bed, and reading reading reading. The kid LOVES his books. Unfortunately we inherited a Barney book at some point in time, and well...It's the only book that makes him laugh hysterically upon opening. Yes this makes me cringe. I'm just hoping he's laughing at the absurdity of Barney, and not just because he's a fun loving purple freaking dinosaur. He did learn to say (and point out) baby from the book so I guess I do owe Barney a bit of credit.


Miles' Top Five Favorite Toys of the Week.

#5 Plastic container with 7 stale Cheerio's inside.
Ideal of shaking, banging, chewing, and throwing.













#4 Phone Book.
The only phone book in the house containing all numbers (argh).
Ideal of slobbering all over, throwing, and passing to mom (over and over again).













#3 Door Stop
Ideal for making boingy noise.
A personal favorite of the neighbor's I'm sure.











#2 Shoe laces through wooden spatula.
This one speaks for itself.













IT'S A TIE
#1 Pop can.
No brand preference.
Along with fabric softener sheets, this kid would crawl any distance to get his hand on one precious aluminum can. I have to stuff it with cloth so that he doesn't cut himself.



















#1 Remote Controls
Ideal for sucking, raising volume, lowering volume, and changing channels.
It's a miracle these remotes even work anymore.

Knock Knock...Who's There?

The truth is, I am almost always thinking of Miles. If I leave Miles with Dave, parents, or a friend, I can't help but wonder if he needs me, or if he's happy. I just need to know if he's okay. I know he's perfectly well taken care of and I should just relax and consider myself lucky to have some free time. I do appreciate the time I have away from Miles, but that doesn't mean I stop thinking of him. I'm not insane (though I'm sure some beg to differ), I'm not over protective (again with the begging to differ), in fact any chance I get for Miles to enjoy someone else's company, I take it.

When we went out for dinner with friends for Dave's birthday I secretly snuck the phone in the bathroom to call mom to make sure Miles was alright. Of course he was. But I couldn't have a good time until I knew, then I was fine (pour me another glass of wine!).

I think socializing a baby is important, that's why we go to playgroup. The Children's Storefront (that's playgroup) is amazing. It's a drop in, the moms are fantastic (well most of them, some are way too overprotective and insane), and there are babies of all ages for Miles to interact with. The downside is every time we go, Miles gets sick (but that's bound to happen anywhere).

I do however, have apprehensions about sending Miles to daycare. I feel like he's still so wee, and there is so much for me to miss. I know I went to daycare and turned out just fine (again with the begging to differ), and so did my brother. In fact everyone I know went to daycare. But times were different, and Maternity leave was not considered as important as it is now. I just can't imagine paying money for someone else to raise my child 8 hours a day, five days a week, and really only make a minimum amount of profit for my family (in case I didn't mention it, I'm not a rocket scientist, just a social services horticulturalist....Let me tell you, big bucks!). Even if there was a decent profit margin to be made I would have trouble with the idea of handing over Miles to a group of people I really don't know all that well.

I don't have trouble with the thought of sending him to daycare once or twice a week if necessary (socialization blah blah blah), but I really feel it is important for him to be surrounded by people he loves and that love him. I don't think that's such an insane concept. Family. It is one of the reasons I want to move home. I'm not saying I don't want to work, I do. I just want to work, and feel secure in the idea that Miles is surrounded by loved ones and his peers (that's why playgroup kicks serious ass).

So needless to say until we figure out whether or not moving home is in the future for us, we have decided that I should try my hand at being a work at home stay at home mom (hopefully this doesn't last long). I'm not sure if we can do it financially, but it's worth a try, as me going back to work really doesn't make too much of a difference financially anyways. I scored a nanny job two days a week starting in June, I'm watering a few gardens, doing some urns, and to add to that lovely list of odd jobs, I'm selling Avon (giggles).

Go ahead, laugh, I know I don't know the first thing about makeup, the most makeup I've ever applied was back in my "scary/goth" days, and that was just a shit load of black mascara, black eyeliner and some seriously red lipstick that didn't even go with my hair. I mean these days, putting makeup on means some lip gloss and a touch of brown mascara (but that bottle is all old and crusty so I don't really even use that anymore). But I need to try something, so I thought I'd give this a whirl. I have no idea what I'm doing (I'm certainly not knocking on doors, but I will put fliers in mail boxes if I have to). I don't even know if Avon will even be successful. All I know is that I feel so strongly about this that I'll basically try anything....Got any ideas?

So Now All Of A Sudden I Need A Cuddle Bunny

Over Easter weekend the Piccinato family gave Miles a bunny. A SUPER soft, SUPER cute, a not too big and not too small bunny. Miles really hasn't figured out the security that a stuffed animal can offer yet. Once in a while he will chew on Elmo's eyes, eat the kangaroos tail, or suck on the rabbits ear, but all in all he's not much of a stuffed animal guy.....Yet. Just for the record, he's also not a blankie, thumb, or a soother guy. He was a boob man until he started biting me, but that's all in the past (see previous posts).

So the other day, as I lay on the couch with Dave (watching our previously taped 24) it occurred to me that when the show got suspenseful I was cuddling said bunny. I laughed at myself, but that didn't stop me from cuddling it. In fact, over the past few days when I sit down to watch the tube I find myself actually "needing" the bunny. I hold it in my arms, rest my head on it's oh so soft fake fur. It doesn't even phase Dave when I ask him if he could please pass me the bunny. This bunny is now part of the living room decor (along with a mess of other toys). I imagine most people who walk through our doors think that the bunny is Miles'. Little do they know, it has become my cuddle bunny.

Thank You For Waiting...My Ass Hurts Again

It was March, 2004 that I got the running fever. I had decided that I needed to get into shape and had asked a few friends if they might be into running. My friend Penny, who I really barely knew at the time, was the only one to jump on the offer (I can't remember how hesitant her yes was....If it was at all). Our first run was from my old apartment on Spadina around Christie Pits Park and back, just under 5K (later to be referred to as short run). It snowed that day. We both vowed to make running a regular thing. It felt good.

After running for a few months we were not only in fantastic shape, but we were becoming wonderful friends. Our first run was for The Brain Tumor Foundation, a 10K fundraiser. I don't think we walked once, but it PISSED buckets, and we couldn't have been more proud of ourselves when we crossed the finish line. It was that taste of group running and motivation that swept us into a ridiculous spin of long distance running.

The following collage highlights some of our very fist long distance runs (and yes the proofs are lifted from the web site)

Our first long run was The 25K Niagara Ultra (some crazy fools even ran 50K). You can see from the photos we have our numbers on our backs to start, and on our fronts to finish.......Amateurs. But we didn't do to badly Results, despite the fact that our bodies ached beyond belief. The collage also highlights our first half marathon 21K. The Detroit Half Marathon to be exact. We ran from Detroit's Comerica Park, U.S.A, across the Ambassador Bridge to Windsor, Canada, though the tunnel to the U.S., and finished on Ford Field. Beautiful day, great conversation, amazing run, and to top it all off, I was almost 4 months PREGNANT! Results.

PREGGERS....That's what ended the intended chain of long distance running in far off countries. Penny was amazing. She still ran with me almost every day (even though I was a lot slower)...Until we couldn't anymore (I think we ran until January and then it just got too slippery).

So instead of running, we swam every day. Doing laps wasn't nearly as fun (you can't talk under water), but swimming was the absolute BEST when I was pregnant. It was the only time that my body didn't feel like LC the Cow. After every 20 laps we'd chat for a bit, and then continue on. These lovely pics are near the end of my pregnancy.

After my c-section I wasn't really running for a while, and well, being a new mom sort of kept my time full. Penny waited patiently. I trained on my own for a bit, and we ran a 5k race for The Breast Cancer Foundation,but I still didn't feel up to par. In all honesty, I think I had lost motivation...That and my tits were two big. I mean running with three sports bras is a fantasy no woman should ever have. I was still very active, I just wasn't running.

Penny waited patiently (she ran on her own, hoping I'd come around again). This month, I decided that this was going to be my month. I have caught the running fever again (much to Penny's delight). It's taken a few weeks but I can run 7K without walking (though I'm still not at my old pace). I think my biggest challenge is pushing the damn running stroller. The bloody front wheel doesn't turn, and Miles + stroller = F*&^ing heavy. We take turns with the stroller now. It feels so good to be running again, even if I feel like I'm chasing Penny half the time. I'll get to where I was again, I know it. Just have to run through a sore butt and tired legs once in a while.

On May 7th, we participate in The Brain Tumor Foundation10K run again. I feel like this is the start of some beautiful runs and more motivation to run the distance.

Thank you for waiting Penny.

Sorry about posting the bathing suit pic. Had to. Thought you wouldn't mind considering I posted mine too.

Flying Martini

Miles flies his first kite....attached to my back!

For the past four years, my family and our friends have had a kite contest on top of "the hill". Every year there is lots of food to eat, alcohol to be consumed, and awards to be given. Each year, more people come and join in the fun. This year there were about 20 participants. There were martini glasses, fish, dragons, planes, blimps, turtles, frogs, butterflies, box kites, the Wiggles, Sponge Bob, robots, and your standard rainbow kites all flying in the air (at some point or another). It was beautiful.

The wind wasn't perfect, it had it's gusty moments. Some kites flew beautifully, some kites landed at the bottom of the hill, and some of us spent a lot of time winding string and finding the perfect kite. Fingers crossed that next year offers a beautiful day and more friends to fly with.

Four Generations

Mom, Me, Miles and Grandpa

I'll Give You The Food Off My Tray For The Hair Off Your Back

This is the latest scene in our house during breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack time. Miles eating (or throwing which ever you prefer) and Chewy hovering (ever so discreetly my ass) and waiting for food to fall so he can gobble it all up. One might wonder why a single Cheerio or a 1 cm. cube of cheddar cheese would be so worth the agonizing wait. I don't bother wondering. All I know is I can't stand that Miles has now recognized that the "Guh" (aka dog) wants his food and that Miles is more than happy to share whatever he has with the dog. In fact, it's what makes eating more fascinating.

Sometimes Chewy is completely oblivious that Miles has tossed and entire handful of food to him. That's because it's all stuck in the fur on his back. Now I have a dog and a baby to clean after eating. Perhaps I should consider myself lucky. The two of them are cleaning up after each other. Chewy eats the food that Miles tosses onto the floor, and Miles sweeps all of Chewy's hair up when he crawls. Perhaps everyone thinking of starting a family should get a dog. I hear it's just like having a kid....ha!


I thought I'd add this photo segment of Dave and Miles.

Miles got Mega Blocks from Nanna and Nono for Christmas, and we just recently busted them out. Miles mostly sucks on them and gets bored of them pretty quickly (it's actually the bag that is more interesting). It seems to me someone is having more fun then the intended recipient of the gift.


I don't have a picture of the finished product, though I really wish I did. Dave was so proud that he used every block and in perfect symmetry! (good boy Dave!). He even brought it into the kitchen where I was feeding Miles (and the dog) to show it off. I was simply amazed when it got knocked off the table after he left for work and I had to clean it up.

And The Winner Is.....

And the lucky winners to the "Guess What's Going On In This Photo" contest are Grandma & Peepa. Together they guessed correctly (only that's my leg and not Daves). If you read this blog or talk to use enough, you would know that Miles has to take a poo standing up.

Now what I have failed to mention in the past, is that Miles needs to be visually entertained in order to participate in this whole pooping ordeal. Sometimes you have to move from location to location in order to "get it all out". What you see in the photo is a common starter spot...The dishwasher. The dishwasher is ever so fascinating, being shiny white and having six buttons and all, but it is also conveniently located next to these really cool white cabinet doorknobs that are also fun to grab while pooing.

Top 10 Favorite Pooping Locations
1. See through Ikea dresser we have. You can pull and tug at all sorts of interesting items inside. Yes, there are some socks and underwear. He likes it. I don't argue. Clearly we've tried it all.
2. Dishwasher / Cabinet Duo...You can move back and forth to each entertaining item.
3. Any window or door that has a lovely view of the outdoors.
4. The Bathroom towel rack. It moves up and down...Fascinating...Simply fascinating. It is located near the Bathroom Cabinet. It too has the ever famous white doorknobs.
5. The coffee table. But only when it has entertaining items on it(remote control, books, toys etc.) Ahhh the remote.....TV on, TV off. Volume up, volume down. Channel 2, channel 18.
6. Standing on our bed trying to grab at the mask on the wall. This was out of desperation and it worked.
7. Leaning against his favorite office chair. It turns and has a black twisty knob, oooooooo.
8. Standing facing the book shelf. That way he can simultaneously rip books off the shelf and poo at the same time.
9. Recruit Chewy, our dog (only as a desperate measure). Hoping perhaps a stand off of some sort will "get things moving". It's worked in the past.
10. If we are lucky the kid just does it on his own (unless it's in his highchair or bouncer, then it's just a squishy mess).

As I type this, I realize we are either going to have to install some sort of entertainment device in the bathroom for potty training. I'm going to have to act out short skits and or dance. Perhaps we are going to have to have a portable potty which cruises to different locations around the house. On the upside, as least we don't have to worry about him pooing in the bathtub!

Go ahead...Laugh at us.

I promise my next post won't be about POO.

I'll Give You Three Guesses

I absolutely love this picture. However I know what's going on (so it is a bit tainted). I'll give you three guesses.....Can you figure it out?

Miles has finally made the world wide web. Rock Your Baby (a super cute baby clothing store in Australia) has decided (and we agree) that Miles is cute enough to be posted on their web page (check the gallery section). What a rock star.

Diaper Changing 101

I don't mind cleaning up a mess after a "self fed" meal. I don't mind that by the end of the day Miles is more covered in dog hair than the dog. I don't mind cleaning up puke, even if it's purple. I don't mind crawling around the house all day discovering every inch of dirt on the hardwood floors and pretending that I am equally as fascinated as Miles is. I don't mind that I have to eat after 8pm if I want to enjoy a nice meal. I don't mind waking up at 6am every morning. I don't even mind the thought of cleaning up poopy diapers. What I do mind is the constant battle I have with Miles to SIT STILL while I change his diaper. Not even within two seconds that he is freed from the bounds of his diaper, is he twisting to get free from the bounds of the change table.

I know I am not alone in this struggle. I know I too participated in such acrobatics as a baby. This doesn't mean that I have to like it, nor accept it. I just have to deal with it.

There are a few positions that I would like to go over with those of you who have no idea what the hell I'm talking about.

The Wheel Barrel: Most commonly occurs with poopy diapers. Upon grabbing Miles' ankles to remove diaper and keep dirty bottom from touching the change table, Miles shoots belly directly into air and squeezes but cheeks together. Alternate pose: Miles twists onto tummy while legs are being held in mid air. Bum is usually not wiped in this stage which adds to the fun. Admittingly, as frustrating as this is, the wheel barrel is one of my favorites. It does make me laugh.

The Instant Dog: Most commonly occurs with pee diapers, as legs are not needed to be held in mid air. Once the diaper is removed and changer is putting diaper into "the genie", Miles promptly (like the speed of light) flips onto tummy and is on all fours. Turning Miles onto back once again is futile as he simply turns himself over onto all fours again. You have to wipe Miles clean in this position. Dave has dubbed this wiping the baby "doggie style". Putting a fresh diaper on while Miles is on all fours is now common practice.

The Streaker: Most commonly occurs when the Instant Dog pisses me off and I move to the bed to try and put the diaper on. It is exactly the same as the Instant Dog, only Miles takes off crawling, fighting the diaper by any means necessary. I pull him back and the Streaker repeats.

The Cheerleader: Most commonly occurs with pee diapers, or after a poopie diaper has been wiped clean. Miles kicks his legs into the air and lowers legs with great force. Palates lovers would admire such abdominal strength.

The Clencher: This occurs with every diaper change. But cheek's and legs are clenched so that diaper application is performed only by creating a wedge between his legs in order to get diaper on.

I can only hope this phase passes. And yes, at the end of the day, he is still cute.

Name That Hazard

Lets look at this picture closely (actually, you don't even have to look that closely). How many baby hazards do you see? .....and that's just the computer room! Seems to me, we either baby proof this house or we move before it's too late. I've got my fingers crossed for the big move.