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January 19, 2010

I come bearing obscure veggies

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So my baby is now the size of an average rutabaga. Not a crazy big rutabaga, just your average, run-of-the-mill rutabaga. Which is great to know, but... what the hell is a rutabaga?

I get these weekly pregnancy updates delivered to my email in-box and they inevitably include a note comparing my unborn child to some random produce. Apparently it's a rule. Apparently these updates are actually intended for pioneer women who sow the fields all day and then head home to toil away over bubbling cauldrons of hearty root vegetable stew. That's not quite me. Now, if the update said, "Your baby is now around the size of a Weight Watchers Smart Ones Szechuan Chicken frozen dinner" I'd totally get it.

Turnip, parsnip, rutabaga... call it what you like. One thing is for sure: This baby is suddenly getting a lot bigger. I know because I'm starting to have to hoist myself out of chairs, bracing myself against the arms and heaving myself forward. Grunting gracefully. And once I'm up I feel as though I have to jostle my hip and pelvic bones back into place so that I can actually, you know, walk. Or waddle. Whatever.

Grateful as I am for my fertility, I think my very favourite part about this pregnancy is knowing that I'll never ever be pregnant again... even though I'm pretty sure F is already harbouring secret thoughts about "trying for a boy." Ha! Sweet, silly man. We'll just see how we all feel about that four months from now when we're caked in crusty vomit and haven't slept for 18 days.

January 19, 2010 | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

January 14, 2010

See, I told you so

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My facebook BFFs will have already heard this one, but it is a perfect illustration of my state of mind these days so I had to share.

A couple of nights ago I left F to deal with Mads, even though he's been on his deathbed with a brutal cold for the better part of a week, so that I could go shopping. As I was leaving she was tugging on his sickly self and saying, "Do something with me!" When she says that she doesn't mean read me a story or sing me a soothing lullaby, she means chuck me in the air or balance me on the flat of your palm or toss me over your shoulder and run around the house like a crazed banshee. During these scenarios I call out the occasional warning and wait for the bump of a head against the wall, which of course happens every time. What is it about dads and kids and inevitable head trauma? While they're doing these treacherous things she'll tauntingly call out to me, "Do you like this, Mommy?" because they both know very well that I do not like it. "Ooh, Mommy doesn't like this, Daddy. Don't worry Mommy, we'll be careful!" And then they both laugh hysterically because Mommy is such a lame loser that she doesn't appreciate the awesomeness of a childhood concussion.

Anyways, this is what was happening as I left to go to the mall. Forty minutes, two baby shower gifts and a $12.99 clearance top later I was gathering my bags at the till.

"Good night," said the monotone girl working the checkout.

"Sweet dreams," I replied like an insane person.

WTF? Sweet dreams? Uggghh.

Then the next morning at work I managed to lose my lunch (not as in barf, as in I have no recollection of where I put the full tupperware container) in between my desk and the office fridge. It's still missing. I'm waiting for the stench to hit so that I can track it down.

Honestly, I don't see how I'm going to make it through the next 3 months without causing serious harm to myself or others.

Image found on Flickr

January 14, 2010 | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack

January 11, 2010

I used to be all smart and stuff

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I've realized that I spend half my life repeating these same few phrases:

  • "How do we ask for things?"
  • "Three more bites if you want a popsicle."
  • "No, that's not a bite. Big bites."
  • "Do you have to pee?"
  • "Why are you crying?"
  • "What is that face for?"
  • "You do look like a real princess!"
  • "Um... hello? Are you even listening to me?" (this one is to F)

I could basically be replaced by a tape recorder. That hurts.

It's no wonder I've entirely lost the art of conversation. When someone expresses an opinion on a topic other than which princess has the prettiest dress or grilled cheese vs pizza I break into a cold sweat.

I think that motherhood is sapping my brain power - and this pregnancy isn't exactly helping matters. Thank god Mads has her alphabet down pat because at this rate she'll be having to teach it to me before too long.

January 11, 2010 | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBack

January 07, 2010

As promised...

I just had to share a few shots by my very favourite up-and-coming photographer. It doesn't seem all that long ago that she could barely bat at the toys dangling from her carseat, and now she's snapping pics of her little world from behind the lens of a hot pink camera. How does this all happen so quickly?

We'll call this series... Sunday Morning.

IMG_0056Daddy on pancake duty

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Mommy (and Cinderella) getting some work done

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Ahh. Starbucks.

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Our high-maintenance child, Emma

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A carseat self-portrait

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On the way to the beach

January 7, 2010 | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBack

January 05, 2010

I love this

Il_430xN.110602191Now tell me this isn't among the cuter things you've seen in your lifetime. Love.

Mads, being 3 going on 14, would gasp over how it's "soo adowable" and sigh and hug it with her eyes squeezed tightly shut and would then matter-of-factly say, "I'm going to wear it for 3 minutes but then I don't want to have it anymore, okay, Mommy? Because maybe the flower will be itchy on my head or my hair will hurt or a bee will land on me..." 

A newborn, though, given her complete lack of hand-eye coordination not to mention verbal skills or any ability whatsover really, would basically have to wear it because Mommy thinks it's pretty damn cute. 

That's me trying to look at the bright side of the insane infant days that lay ahead.

(Found on: Etsy)

January 5, 2010 | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

January 03, 2010

Holiday miracles

IMG_7038  I don't go back to work until tomorrow morning, so technically it's still the holidays for me. Woo!

I have two tiny holiday miracles to share:

1. Mads is at this very moment slurping down a bowl of miso soup. Colour me shocked since her diet consists mainly of soft eggs, pizza and grilled cheese. She thinks the tofu chunks are cheese - "I found another cheese! Another cheese!" - and I'm not correcting her.

2. Equally wonderful: We're having another girl! We found out earlier this week - I'm not one for surprises. A little girl who Mads still insists will be named Rosalina. She seems to think about her soon-to-be sister pretty often. She'll randomly ask, "I can't remember, Mommy: When is our baby girl coming out of your tummy?" And I melt into a weepy and lovestruck puddle on the floor. 

'Night for now.

January 3, 2010 | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack

January 02, 2010

Happy New Year, Merry Christmas, etc

IMG_6869-2 I should be doing laundry right now. Or unloading the dishwasher. Or finding the tupperware container of holiday leftovers that is responsible for the rank smell in the fridge. (I know, my house sounds awesome.) Or treadmilling off the 10lbs of Purdy's cream-centered chocolates I've eaten over the past week. But as totally tempting as all of those options are, I'm here instead because I've been so horribly delinquent with the blog lately.

First and foremost... Merry Christmas (1 week ago)!! Was it a good one? I hope so. 

Oh, and happy new year, too!

Our Christmas was nice. Despite promises made all around that it would be scaled down this year, of course it wasn't. I'm just going to say it: I don't mind the materialism of Christmas. In fact, I kind of love it. I like buying presents, and getting them ain't half bad either. I also love the lights and the carols and watching the same old Christmas specials on TV year after year. I love the family dinners and get togethers with friends. I love the butter tarts and the wine. Well, normally I love the wine. This year I pretended to love the sparkling cranberry juice, but let's just be honest, it wasn't fooling me or anybody else. Why is it so impossible for someone to come up with a non-alcoholic wine that doesn't just taste like really bad juice? Actually, I think I just realized the answer to my own question: Obviously it's the alcohol part that makes it good... Damn.

This was the first year that Mads totally got Christmas. She wrote the letter to Santa, made a paper countdown chain and went to bed giddy and full of anticipation on Christmas Eve. I thought she'd be up at the crack of dawn, but she ended up sleeping until 8:30 (go on, hate me) and it was F and I sitting on the couch at 7am watching the clock and willing her awake. She squealed - literally, squealing is her new thing - at every tiny thing that was pulled from her stocking (even the toothbrush, sippy cup and new socks - Santa is nothing if not practical) and tore through wrapping paper like a pint-sized tornado. 

The girl got good and spoiled, but judging by the fact that I've so far downloaded 647 photos, I'd have to say that her favorite gift so far is the kid-friendly digital camera. I'll be posting some of her early works very soon. She's clearly showing signs of artistic genius. I'm just sayin'. 

Well, something moldy and rotten in the fridge is calling my name... no better way to kick off the year!

It seems like 2009 was a tough one for a lot people, so here's hoping that we all have good things in store for us in the year ahead. Wishing you and yours a memorable and downright amazing 2010. 

January 2, 2010 | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

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"Having a two-year-old is like having a blender that you don't have the top for." ~Jerry Seinfeld.

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