Inspiring?

So now I know. Tomorrow is the day. The day when Miss A and her Mama will be appearing on our local television station (for a six minute interview). I mentioned this before. I agreed to do it in honor of World Breastfeeding Week. The lactation consultant at our hospital seems to think that I may have something inspiring to say. I certainly hope so. I'm thinking she might have put a little too much confidence in me.

But now that I know when it is actually happening, I'm getting nervous. What should I wear? Should my hair be up or down? Wavy or straight? What should I dress Miss A in? A dress? Or just a nice outfit? I don't want to look pasty on T.V. but I'm so pale. Bronzer powder. Yeah, lots of bronzer. But not too much. Don't want people to say “Hey is Mama D Latino? Has she been to Cancun lately? Oh no, she just put too much bronzer on.” I want to look natural but I'm worried the lights will just wash me out. And I've been doing research. Watching the show, checking out the camera angles. I'm pretty happy about the fact that they seem to mostly film you from just below the shoulders – up. Or if the use a wide shot the chair seems to hide your midsection. This is good for me. My top and bottom half are pretty cute, my midsection? That's a bit of a 'problem area' right now. (Just ask my doctor.) (No, I won't just let it go already!)

Another concern of mine is the state of my daughters head. I was told by my LLL leader that one reason among many of why I had been asked to appear on television was because Miss A is so 'cute'. Currently she has an abundance of bruises on her forehead and one on her cheek. They are a rainbow of colors corresponding with how recently each bruise was acquired. I was slightly concerned about this yesterday as I thought about this interview and noticed what an awful lot of bruises she seemed to have right now. Then this morning just before we left for church she decided to do a quick sprint to the kitchen and back. She somehow missed the doorway, ran into the frame and fell down on her bottom. When I went to her I noticed the dent in her head right away and attempted to put a gel/ice pack on it to prevent it from looking so horrible. She wasn't too impressed to have it there so I gave up after a couple of minutes. I do think it would have been much worse without the ice pack.

Still it is quite the bump and it should be very apparent by the time we make our television debut. I'm hoping no one will think I'm an abusive mother. That's the message I want to send out “I'm an advocate of breastfeeding but I don't have any problem smacking my kid around.” I'm hoping I'll have an opportunity to joke about how many bumps and bruises she gets now that she's running around. If anyone knows how judgmental people can be it's me. I have one of the worlds most judgmental mothers. One who often seems to think that I should be able to prevent all of her mishaps. Maybe if we lived in a house made entirely of bubble wrap and furniture made of cotton balls. Of course anyone who has recently had a child her age will be able to relate.




I may also be slightly concerned that she will constantly make one of her new faces.









And on top of the nervousness about how we will look there is the nervousness about how I will sound. What questions will she ask me? What if I end up not knowing how to answer? More likely than that, what if I go on and on and on and she has to interrupt me? What if I come across as a dimwit? Worst of all, what if I'm not inspiring? That's the whole point, right?

That is ultimately the reason I agreed to do this interview. Because if anyone out there is encouraged to breastfeed or to persevere through difficulties through hearing about mine then I accomplished what I hoped I could.

I'll be recording my 'appearance' and YouTubing it as soon as possible. Stay tuned.

That's The One

A shout out to Kelli in the Mirror from Holding the Mirror up to My Soul for winning Say WHAT? this week by correctly identifying my quote from “Say Anything”. I've been meaning to use a quote from this movie for a long time but I was saving it. Why? Because it's special.



That's right. I finally used a quote from the movie that was essentially my inspiration for this game. The movie from which a photo is used each and every week for Say WHAT? This movie that gave me higher expectations of guys in general and especially any guys that I chose to date. Frankly, it helped shape the person I am today.



Am I giving an 80's flick too much credit? Maybe. Maybe not. At the very least I hope to inspire anyone who hasn't seen it to do so.



Why do I love it so much? Why is it so great? Basically it all comes down to two words. Lloyd. Dobler. This character may be the single best male character (without question THEE best TEEN male character) ever written. He has everything a girl wants in a guy. Brains, brawn, personality, sensitivity and he's freakin' gorgeous. Totally well rounded. He's so great there is a band named after him.

Let me tell you about some of my favorite things about Lloyd's character. He kickboxes. He sticks up for his best friend and tries to protect her from the scumbag who keeps messing with her head. He asks the girl he has a crush on out on a date even though 'she is out of his league'. Even though he is absolutely nuts about this girl, at the party they go to he gives her space to do her own thing. He agrees to drive a very drunk and most likely stinky guy home from the party killing any possibility of romance with his date. He teaches girlfriend how to drive her car which has a standard transmission. He plays guitar. He is an awesome uncle. Being intimate with his girlfriend means so much to him that he begins to shiver uncontrollably because 'he's happy.' (Let me just say that this scene when they are in his car by the ocean and “In your Eyes” is playing in the background... and the part with him shivering, wow. In high school, my friend and I cried like babies watching that scene. We didn't think we'd ever find a guy so sweet.) Even after his girlfriend breaks up with him he won't say anything bad about her. When she wants to get back together and really needs him, he's there. He is nice to her father even though he doesn't deserve it.

Hmmm. Something about this movie turns me into a gushing teenager again. I'm linking trailers and putting up this video. I dare anyone who has never heard of this movie or seen it to watch these trailers and not feel compelled to go rent it. I dare you. Consider yourself dared.





So this movie. It taught me that I didn't have to settle for some jerk. Some guy who'd rather hang out with his friends than me. A guy who had an enormous ego. That I could expect the person I chose to be with to care about what I had to say and who I was. Someone who'd be there for me no matter what. Lloyd Dobler was my ideal man for a long time.

Until I met the real thing. And then I married him. And we both have Lloyd Dobler to thank for that.

Say WHAT?

It's Friday again and that means it's time for Say WHAT? The AMAZING 80's quote trivia game. In case you haven't played before, here is the down low – At the bottom of this post you will find a quote from an 80's movie. If you choose to play you must, without using the internet as a resource, guess which 80's movie the quote has been taken from. Fun, huh? Leave your guesses in the comments section and if you are the first to correctly identify the quote, you win! I announce the winner on Sunday and that winner receives acknowledgment, linkage and if they have a profile picture I post that also. I recap the winner every Friday and include all of the aforementioned information.



Last weeks winner, guessing at a record time of 7:45 AM, Jay... I mean Jenn! from And then there were four. So yay for Jenn. Don't forget to check her out on Monday for "Monday Morning at the Movies" I am SO there. So watch out everyone!

Time for today's quote. Don't forget to come back on Sunday to see if you are a winner. Have fun and good luck!





"How many of them really know what they want, though? I mean, a lot of them think they have to know, right? But inside they don't really know, so... I don't know ,but I know that I don't know."

Tooth Two

It is with much pride and relief that I announce the arrival of Miss A's second tooth! Her other upper central incisor came in. I now know that she does indeed have more than a single tooth in her head. And if she doesn't have any more at least she'll have a symmetrical smile.

Capturing this phenomenon on camera however, proves to be difficult. The result is a poor quality, too close, slightly blurry and shadowed picture. I placed an arrow so you'd know where to look. To take the photo I lay her down on that couch and hovered over her (thus, the shadow) trying to get her to smile. All she wanted to do was grab the camera. Have I mentioned that taking pictures of her lately has become... interesting? Anyway, what you see is what you get. I will try to take a better picture soon. This one seems to be coming in fast so maybe I'll have some little bunny pictures shortly.



You may be wondering if this new tooth came with any trouble. On the Sunday evening a few days before its appearance poor A had a barfing episode. Three times. In her bed, on her Dada, on her Dada. In that order. (Dodged a bullet there. Two actually.) We thought perhaps it was a tummy bug. Now I'm thinking the tooth might have been the culprit. That didn't happen with her first tooth. I'm hoping it's not a new trend. I don't think I could be so lucky and not get puked on the next time. But hey, I change most of the poopy diapers. A Mama deserves a break doesn't she?

Work It Out

Yet again I am finding myself frustrated with what I consider to be a lack of exercise in my life. Though I continue to pay for a gym membership I have not gone in weeks. I have hit another wall. I like to go to classes, I don't care what the class is. It could be hip hop aerobics while wrestling a crocodile, I just want to go to a class! The problem the times 9:30 (too early), 12:05 (Hello? Lunch time? Followed by nap time. Do I really want to take a hungry/cranky baby, I mean toddler to the gym?) 5:30. Now 5:30 could almost work. On Monday and Tuesday. The problem? I am going to a Yoga class Monday nights and play Volleyball on Tuesday nights. So should I go work out for an hour and then rush to my next workout? Would I be too tired? Will my husband want to kill me for abandoning him and Miss A for two hours? Probably.

Part of me says if you REALLY wanted to work out then you'd find a way. I do. There are no words to explain how much I really want to work out. I think about it all the time. Obsess might be a better word. I lay awake in bed trying to think of ways around the road blocks but I come up with nothing. I could get up at six and go to the gym from 6:30 – 7:30 and be home before Papa D leaves for work and Miss A wakes up. The thought of getting up that early makes me want to run into traffic. Besides, there are no classes at that time and if I was going to the gym to do the hamster on a wheel thing I could go during the day at a convenient time for both A and I. I cannot express how much I despise using the machines. Thirty minutes on a treadmill, cross trainer or stepper feels like a lifetime to me. I do love to exercise but I have a rule. If it's not fun, or if you hate it, don't do it. That is why I do not jog. It seems like good exercise and it's free but every single time I do it I hate every second. I have friends who enjoy running. To them I say “Good for you!” because the enjoy it. But I won't violate my fun policy.

This is why I do TKD. (yes, I actually enjoy being punched in the face, mostly) Why I played ball, why I'm doing Yoga and playing volleyball. It's all fun. I just want to go to a class with some other people and work out in a group environment without having to worry about my daughter. I don't think this is too much to ask for.

I think other people might disagree. When I've sometimes expressed my desire to do more I have often been met with the response “You are a new mom, you can't do everything.” That statement is so very true. It seems that people think I'm being selfish for wanting to get more exercise. The truth is I want to do it for my family as well as myself. So that my husband won't have to listen to me complain about how I look and my baby has a happier Mama with a better self image, a clearer mind and a better state of being.

I'm hoping that I can figure something out soon. It has really been plaguing me. I don't suppose this helped any. The sad part is how badly I want to do it and how hard it seems to be to make it happen.

I Guess I Deserved It

So way back in January of last year when Miss A was a wee babe I was struggling with the issue of vaccinations. I had concerns. And I read myself in circles. I decided to go ahead with the vaccination at two months. My already lousy nurser became even less thrilled with breastfeeding for a whole week. As I was already unsure if I had made the right decision this reaction made me opt to postpone any further vaccinations until after she turned a year old.

And guess what? She's a year old now. Yesterday after her swimming lesson we headed on down to the public health office. Even though it had been less than a month since we'd last seen our nurse she weighed and measured Miss A. She's gained a pound and a half since last time! Must be a growth spurt. There was a huge toy box in this room and A couldn't wait to get down and see what was in it. I let her play and took deep breaths as the nurse got the vaccinations ready.



I thought I was being smart and grabbed this sunflower rattle thing for her to hold. She was less than impressed with me for taking her away from the rest of the toys and forcing her to sit on my lap. She flung her arm, with which she was holding this rattle I had given her in it, back and hit me right in the mouth. My eyes watered and I instantly felt my lip begin to swell as though I'd had collagen injected into it. How could something with such a happy expression hurt me so badly? Personally I think she knew what was going on and she was getting me back for what was about to take place. Looking at it that way I guess I can't blame her. The nurse removed the toy from her hand and I tried to compose myself.



I then pinned A's hands back with my arms and held her little legs down as she struggled. I stared at her as she stared at the needle going into her leg. I watched her little face scrunch up with pain as she felt and watched the needle go into her thigh. She quickly stopped crying and we did it all over again in the other leg. When it was over I stood up and tears came to my eyes. I was ashamed for some reason and tried to hide them from our nurse.

Why was I crying? Was it because I was a conspirator to the painful experience she just had even though it was 'for her own good'? Was it because I was being reminded of what happened last time and I was fearful of what reaction might occur this time? Or was it because I still wasn't sure that I felt comfortable having this stuff injected into my daughter? But it was too late now. It was done.

When we came home she had a nap I went to a Yoga class. Afterwards I came home and was pleasantly surprised to find she was her usual contented, busy self. She ate a good supper for her Dada and was having a great time playing with all of her toys. Both of us were relieved as we had been dreading the appetite loss and fussiness that we had expected to see following the needles.

Today she woke up as happy as ever. I have no regrets about waiting this long. I am much more at peace with vaccinating especially now that I see she is fine. I think I just had too much to deal with in those early days and I didn't need a baby who was already difficult even worse because of her needles. Our next scheduled needles are in November. Two months to gear up for that. Yeah.

New Beginnings

Today is the day I get to tell you all some exciting news. It's news I've been sitting on for some time now. I guess I didn't think it was appropriate to say anything until now. This all sounds very dramatic. And as I'm writing it I realize that I may have you all thinking that I'm expecting again. But, no. This is not that kind of exciting news.

My darling husband is starting a new job today. A great job. At least on paper it looks great. It all started during our holidays back in August. A job was advertised in the paper and Papa D's dad called to tell us about it. The position is in the IT department at a large government facility (sorry to be vague). He decided that he might at well apply. We had been wanting to update his resume during our holidays anyway. Our lovely friend The Single Spark had a look over it one evening when she was over. She made an ordinary cover letter and resume seem extra ordinary. We want to have her over for a 'thank you' dinner. Without her help and advice I'm not sure he would have gotten the interview. A resume is mighty important.

He did get an interview (obviously) and afterwards when I asked him how it went he thought it had gone “Okay”. He really enjoyed the tour and seeing all the expensive equipment, cabling and computer whatsits. Nice to see how things can look when the budget allows for it to be done properly.

So then we waited. And he thought. We wasn't convinced he would take the job if it was offered. My part was wife in a supporting role so I told him I was fine with whatever he decided and I just wanted him to be happy. He was told he would likely hear back from them by the end of the week. The end of the week came and then it was the long weekend. We figured that it wasn't meant to be. On Tuesday we were both still holding out a little hope but by the time he arrived home from work and hadn't heard anything we were convinced that he hadn't got the job. Then the phone rang. It was his future boss calling to offer him the job. They spent a long time on the phone while I sat beside him trying to guess what they were saying. Basically he was given a lot more information about the job and it sounded so good that he couldn't turn it down.

He felt terrible to leave his other position. He is such a loyal person and he felt like he was letting his boss and coworkers down. He had two and a half weeks left of work and during that time he worked his butt off trying to make things as easy as possible for everyone when he would be gone. Everyone was pretty understanding.

So today is the first day. It's an orientation specific to the place he'll be working and their procedures and not his actual job. Tomorrow I think he'll actually start training for his position. It is all very exciting/scary/unbelievable. I am so proud of him for getting this job. He is so smart and modest and hardworking. He deserves to have a great job that he really enjoys. I hope that once he really gets into it that he loves it and is so happy that he was brave enough to take a chance.

Encore

A new week, a new winner. Well, an old winner. I mean, not 'old' but a previous winner. Whatever.

Jay from And then there were four is our winner of Say WHAT? The quote this week was from “Uncle Buck”. It is yet another movie by John Hughes, one of the greatest Directors/Writer of all time. If you check out the link you'll find he was really on a role until about “Home Alone 2”. Ah well. When you've made that many great movies to begin with, you can be forgiven for so many terrible sequels.

"Uncle Buck" is the perfect example of why John Hughes is a genius. It has everything. Comedy, Drama and moments that are just plain heartwarming. Buck was the kind of Uncle we all wish we'd had. The kind of guy who'd be there for you no matter what and really understood you. Sure he had some bad habits but his heart was in the right place and that's what mattered most!



I liked Tia the teenage daughter with attitude. She had some great lines. I know I was supposed to be annoyed by her but I couldn't help thinking she was kind of cool. Of course now that I'm a parent rather than a teenager myself her performance would very likely make me cringe. Oh, how I dread the teenage rebellion stage that I have to look forward to in about 12 years. I think it actually starts at about 10 years old these days so actually I only have about nine years to go. Sigh.



And John Candy, may he rest in peace. Love that man. He was kind, he was smart, he was hilarious. And proud to be Canadian. His death was a great lost to the movie making industry and the world.





See you all next week for another Say WHAT?

Say WHAT?

It's Friday again and that means it's time for Say WHAT? The AMAZING 80's quote trivia game. In case you haven't played before, here is the down low – At the bottom of this post you will find a quote from an 80's movie. If you choose to play you must, without using the internet as a resource, guess which 80's movie the quote has been taken from. Fun, huh? Leave your guesses in the comments section and if you are the first to correctly identify the quote, you win! I announce the winner on Sunday and that winner receives acknowledgment, linkage and if they have a profile picture I post that also. I recap the winner every Friday and include all of the aforementioned information.

Eli's Mom won last week by correctly identifying "Roadhouse". Her latest post contains a YouTube of her adorable son. Check it out.



Time for today's quote. Don't forget to come back on Sunday to see if you are a winner. Have fun and good luck!






"I'm Buck Melanoma. Moley Russell's wart. Not her wart. Not her wart! I'm... I'm the wart. She's my tumor. My... my growth. My... uh, my pimple. I'm Uncle Wart."

The Coolest Persen I've Never Met

(Stupid Blogger... couldn't post till after work... grumble grumble...)

The other day a man came to my front door with a parcel for me. It looked like this.



I recognized the return address on the box. It was from Bon.

But what could it be? So I opened the box.

And found these inside.





A birthday gift for Baby A and for me.





Of course my husband was in on this. And may I just say how much I love them both.

We watched the movie that night. And yes, it was as great as I'd remembered it to be. I'm just trying to figure out what I did to deserve something as awesome as getting a gift from someone who's never met me. Tell me because I'll keep doing it.

Nightmare

Last night I had a horrible dream that Baby A woke up at two and stayed up until five.

Oh wait, that really happened. Time for a nap.

In the meantime, enjoy.

A Daddy Story

A website by the name of the Sisterhood Six requested daddy stories so I thought I'd write ours.

Just over one year ago today I gave birth to our daughter. While I was pregnant I often felt that it didn't seem 'real' for my husband. For several months there was no physical evidence that I was actually carrying our child. Yet my constant nausea and vomiting was a 'real' symptom and I know he felt terrible for me. The first time I recall him being notably excited was when we had our ultrasound. He was simply amazed to see this alien like being growing inside of me. To see it's heart beating. For me this was a touching moment. Seeing our child for the first time as well as seeing him light up that way about our baby.

As the months went by I often placed his hand on my tummy so that he could feel a kick. Usually the baby wouldn't cooperate and he would get tired of waiting. The reality that I had our child growing inside eventually hit me but for my husband it still seemed surreal. Until the night my water broke. I will never forget waking him up and sending him for a towel. As I lay there in bed, totally in shock that this was actually happening he was jumping up and down, clapping his hands and telling me “It feels like Christmas.” Suddenly he was ready for this baby to be here. I just remember feeling scared.

From the moment he saw her I knew he fell in love. His eyes glazed over and he had a smile permanently plastered on his face. I remember him telling me a couple of days after she was born “It's crazy, you and I chose to love each other but with her... I have no choice, I just love her.” I also sheepishly recall feeling jealous when he said this. Before, I was the only girl he loved and now I had to share him. On the other hand I couldn't have been happier. To know how much he loved her, that he'd go to the ends of the earth for her, There was peace in that.

When we brought our daughter home she was not eating or sleeping well. I was becoming less and less sane with each passing day. During all of this my husband had unending patience with both the baby and I. He would take our screaming little girl out of my arms and walk around the house with her doing the special Dada bounce. She would instantly calm down and I would sit there in bed frustrated, exhausted and alone. Waves of jealousy came over me again. How did he have so much patience? Why was he able to get her to calm down? Ultimately though I was relieved. Relieved to have a small break, to have a husband who was so good with our child and relieved that he was there for me.

When our baby was just 3 ½ months old I went back to work. I worked two evenings and on Saturdays. During these times she was with her Dada. At first he was a bit nervous about everything this entailed. When should he give her a bottle, how much should he give her and how long did he need to warm it up? How often should he change her? When should she nap and for how long? How would he put her to sleep? I tried to make this adjustment as easy as possible for him by making up the bottles with the specific amounts and writing a list of helpful hints. I knew that for the most part it was something they would have to figure out together. And they did. In no time they had their own routine and everything was awesome.

Over this year I have seen the special bond that they have with one another. I appreciate how equally important we both are to her because both of us have been her caregivers. I recognize how differently we each parent.

When she is with her Dada it is all about fun, fun, fun. He always takes the time to sing to her, play games and read stories. His primary concern is for her to be content and happy. He often lets her do things that I wouldn't, only under a very watchful eye. (and sometimes records these moments on video so that I can watch in horror when I get home.) I think those are times when she learns the most because she is allowed to explore and experience things more. I know he enjoys his time with her so much and will often tell me about all the cool things she did or just how much fun she was, when I get home. He has been very understanding about all the times when I was late getting home from work and was amazing looking after a very hungry baby. He would never cave in and give her a bottle because he knew that I needed to feed her when I finally made it home.

I struggle sometimes with the differences in our parenting roles. I feel that often I don't have time to be so 'fun' because there is so much to be done. Tidying up is a priority of mine and it takes time. Sometimes when I arrive home and see that things aren't so tidy anymore I am frustrated. But when I see how happy our daughter is it makes me question the importance of my tidying. My time would be better spent sitting with my baby reading or playing than it is cleaning up and doing dishes while she amuses herself. When the two of them are together they rarely have to run errands like getting groceries, go to the bank or pay bills. My days at home with her are often filled with running around and hurrying from one thing to the next. I envy the relaxed fun they seem to have together. But again I think I need to make a choice and an effort to spend some of our time together that way.

My husband often tells me what a great Mama I am. He marvels at all I am able to get done while I am with the baby. I'm pretty sure he thinks I know best as far as our daughter is concerned. But I have learned so much from him about parenting over this past year. The importance of patience. How to be flexible. How not to take an infants behavior personally. How to have fun. That it is okay not to be in control every minute. How to let go.

I feel lucky every day to have such a wonderful husband who is also an amazing father. I marvel at the way he looks after our daughter and I am learning to embrace our differences and trying to adopt some of his ways. I am thankful that he makes me look at things in a whole new way.

*And because I know he'll be reading this I want him to know that although I may appreciate our differences I would still like you to tidy up. Just a little bit. For the sake of my sanity. xoxo

Submit your daddy stories to www.sisterhoodsix.com.

Don't Judge Me

The word must be out about Say WHAT? It's the thing to do on Friday. Our winner this week is Eli's Mom from Confessions of Eli's Mom. She just wrote an awesome post about her concern over sleeping away from her baby. I haven't yet done this so I have no idea what it would feel like. (Though, I wouldn't mind finding out...)



Our quote “Pain don't hurt.” was indeed taken from the movie Roadhouse. “Pain don't hurt.” was my motto during labor. Ha! Okay, pain hurts. A little.

I admit to having a Patrick Swayze weakness. Dirty Dancing had a permanent effect on my better judgment. In my books being able to dance the way he can means that I will over look his mullet (although he denies ever having one saying - that it was long all over, not just in the back) and the fact that he's old enough to be my daddy, and have a crush on him for the rest of my life. I'm not asking for anyone's acceptance, I just wanted to help you understand why.




I think this movie is regarded by most people to be terrible. When I first saw it my standards weren't as high as they are now and I still appreciate it for what it is. First of all it has Patrick Swayze. Sam Elliot is just undeniably cool. Kelly Lynch is pretty awesome too. Then there is the fighting, which I always enjoy because well, I'm weird like that. And I'm almost ashamed to admit it because it's naughty. There is that ahem... scene with Patrick and Kelly and um... the wall... enough said. And I'd just like ask why do movies often have love scenes that look so 'great' but in reality? The wall? Who does that? On what planet are the men so strong that they are actually able to hold you up in the air long enough... I digress. Same goes for love scenes taking place in the water, sand, the rain, the car. It can be done but is it really a good idea? Or comfortable for that matter?



So yeah. Roadhouse barely makes it as an 80's flick being that it came out in 1989. I thought of it on a whim. It's not a favorite but it's good for a laugh.

Say WHAT?

It's Friday again and that means it's time for Say WHAT? The AMAZING 80's quote trivia game. In case you haven't played before, here is the down low – At the bottom of this post you will find a quote from an 80's movie. If you choose to play you must, without using the internet as a resource, guess which 80's movie the quote has been taken from. Fun, huh? Leave your guesses in the comments section and if you are the first to correctly identify the quote, you win! I announce the winner on Sunday and that winner receives acknowledgment, linkage and if they have a profile picture I post that also. I recap the winner every Friday and include all of the aforementioned information.

A new trend is being set as I've had two new readers win in a row. First Brony and then last week Kel from Mama? MAMA COME HERE! It gives me a feeling of satisfaction knowing that people come and check my game out. To think Say WHAT? was born out of my love for 80's movies along with my laziness!

Time for today's quote. Don't forget to come back on Sunday to see if you are a winner. Have fun and good luck!



"Pain don't hurt."

And Now an Anniversary...

Four years ago today I married my best friend. Nine years ago we got together. I can't believe everything that we have been through. Living apart, traveling back and forth to see each other, school, new jobs, new apartments, marriage, England, having a baby. Wow!

We are hardly going to see each other today because he works 9-6 and I work 4-9. Hmmm... Maybe we'll have to plan a little candlelit romance when I get home. It'll be super romantic since I have a cold and I am stuffed up solid – can't breath through my nose a bit. I won't take medication cause I'm still nursing...

Anyway, I did another montage for our Anniversary. It's pretty short because we had to scan the pictures in. You get the basic idea. I used our wedding song 'At Last' by Etta James. In the first photo I was a wee 20 year old and Peter was 26. Can you you see us (me especially) getting more mature (boring)? I have a whole bunch of purple in my hair in like the third picture and then by our wedding... ho hum. Oh well. It tells our story pretty well.

Edit video online at onetruemedia.com

Girl meets shy guy. Girl makes guy talk to her. Girl gets guy. Guy makes girl smile with both bottom and top teeth. Guy finally asks girl to marry him after 5 very long years. Girl says yes. Guy and Girl go on honeymoon. Girl gets pregnant. Girl has baby. Guy, Girl and Baby live happily ever after.

Here is the link to our wedding video on YouTube just in case you all can't get enough of us.

The Day After

Not much time to write today we spent all morning at the doctor for physical for A and her Dada. What with the blood work and everything it took quite a while. Our doctor told my 6 foot 3 inch husband who weighs 211 lbs that he needs to loose weight too. HA! Now I don't feel so bad about what he said to me. It must be a new thing in the medical profession... “But doctor I'm anorexic!” “I know but I still think you should loose weight.” Sigh. Whatever. The most important thing is that I feel better. Don't you think?





A's party went well. I survived making and decorating her cake. (I'm not so talented with the cooking, see.) I made a carrot cake with cream cheese icing. Everyone told me it was yummy and I appreciated it. She enjoyed supper and cake and had fun opening her presents. I will take more pictures later.






Thank you for all of your birthday wishes!

Happy Birthday Baby A!

Dear Miss A,

Today you are officially one year old. One year! I can hardly believe it. What a year it has been. We have both changed so much this year that I'm sure your Dada must think he's sharing the house with a couple of strangers.

The first thing I want you to tell you is that I'm sorry. I am sorry about the way I was when you were born. I'm sorry that I was terrified, anxious and overwhelmed. I tried not to be but those feelings were consuming me after you arrived. I wanted to be happy, calm and in control. I know it would have made things a whole lot easier on you. I know you sensed how unsettled I was and it made you feel unsettled also. I'm sorry for all the times I was frustrated with you and especially those times when I told you to “Shut up!” I'm sorry that I wasn't the good Mama back then that I have become. I promise that I will just keep getting better at this.

I also want to tell you how beautiful you are. When I first saw you I thought you were the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen. I thought I was being biased until everyone kept telling me over and over again how gorgeous you were. I didn't think it was possible for you to get even more lovely with each passing day but you have. To be honest with you I'm a bit jealous. And just so you know if anyone ever tells you that you are ugly it's because they are jealous so don't ever believe it.

You are wonderful. I have lost count of the times that you have brought a smile to my face or made me laugh out loud. I've totally forgiven you for the three months of absolute hell you put me through. (but only if you'll forgive me for being a total basket case during that time) After that you have really been such an easy baby. You have always loved people, will go to anyone and have rarely 'made strange'. You used to lay on the floor contentedly watching 'Baby Einstein' videos so that I could get stuff done. As you've gotten older you have always been really great at amusing yourself and not needing to be held or entertained by me all the time. You have a fabulous appetite and are not a fussy eater. Just recently you have begun to develop more discerning tastes. You are not a fan of blueberries at the moment. You will basically eat anything else we give you as well as whatever you find on the floor. (That, by the way, is not one of your most wonderful traits.)

You should also know how smart you are. You have always had a great attention span. You pay attention to everything that is going on around you. When you first started watching 'Baby Einstein' I was amazed at how you watched every detail. You are very observant and have always used your pointer finger, touching or pointing at whatever you were interested in. Jewelery, zippers, buttons, a drop of food or a piece of fluff. You already love books. You love to turn the pages (and you do it carefully) and point at things on each page. You smile and react to each book differently and definitely have your favorites. Now when you watch 'Baby Einstein' you dance (bounce up and down) to the music and you have also repeated 'Dog' and 'Cat'. I want you to know that you are brilliant so don't let anyone discourage you from becoming whatever you want to when you grow up. Mama and Dada promise to help you however they can.

You are the strongest baby I have ever known. You could practically hold your head up since you were born. You used to be able to fight off your Mama and two nurses when we were trying to get you to eat. (Not one of your wisest battles my dear.) You wanted to stand almost right from day one. A thing that you used to love was when Dada would let you stand on his belly and then he'd lift you up in the air and when you came back down you'd bend your legs and push back up again. He was your own personal trampoline. (And gas getter outer!) By the time you were around six months old you decided that you no longer liked to lay still for your diaper changes. It often takes both me and your Dada to hold you down long enough to change your diaper and get you dressed. (Again, not the most sensible battle.) Sometimes for fun one of us will do a fight commentary while we change you “Baby A is rotating her hips trying to escape Mama's grip but Mama has control of this match...” Once you were hanging out in just a diaper and your Dada has remarked “She looks like a little body builder.” I had to agree.

What I want you to know most of all is that I love you. I've loved you since the moment I found out I was having you. That love was there even at the beginning when I was a mess and I worried it wasn't. I love you when you are awake (though it's harder at 4:00 am), I love you when you are asleep (it's really easy to love you then), I love you when you are crying (although it hurts my ears sometimes!), I love you when you scream out suddenly in public places and throw your head around in a fit of anger (that's pretty embarrassing though). I love you when you gobble up your food, when you smile, when you laugh, when you babble. I love you when you quietly play with your toys or watch a video. I love you when you wave, when you clap, when you try to feed me things. I love you when I get home from work and you squeal with delight that I am home. I love you unconditionally, forever, no matter what you do. (Remind me of this in about 12 more years.) I love you.

Happy Birthday! You amaze me every day. Thank you for bringing so much joy into my life.

Love,
Mama

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Has It Really Been A Year...

Right now a year ago today I was in labor. I was having mild contractions every 7-9 minutes. Peter and I were at our church picnic. It was undeniable, I was going to be a mother. I couldn't press pause on life and say “Hold on, I'm not ready for this.” I remember telling people at work that although there were similarities, getting ready to have a baby was a lot different than getting ready to get married. With a wedding you could always decide even at the last minute to postpone or even, to CALL IT OFF! Sure, it might be embarrassing, costly and would likely cause your fiance irreparable emotional damage. But it can be done. You can decide against going through with it. Not so with birth. Everyone laughed at my anecdote but the truth was I was serious. I wasn't so sure I wanted to go through with this. But I should have thought about that 10 months earlier. I couldn't change my mind now.

It wasn't the pain I was afraid of. In fact, I'm kind of a freak like that. I wouldn't say I like pain, but I like a challenge. Since I had a midwife the plan was – no drugs. If need be, she could administer Demerol or laughing gas. There was also some kind of fancy thing she could do for back labor which involved injecting purified water into my back. I could have an epidural or a C-Section if needed but then my care would have to be transferred to a physician. I was determined for that not to happen. And I was determined to do it without drugs of any kind. I was all like, “Come on labor, show me what you got!”. Looking back I am so happy that I had the kind of birth that I so badly wanted. That I did it the way I hoped I could. That I was proud of myself. Because once Baby A arrived nothing was as I hoped it would be for a long, LONG time.

A year ago today I was just a girl. A woman. A hairstylist. A wife. Not a Mama. Not a food source. Not a rocking, shushing, patting, bouncing robot. Not a sleep deprived zombie. Not a hormonal disaster. Not yet...

I looked in the mirror and I saw me. Me with a huge round tummy, but still the same me. The process of growing our baby inside me had changed me. I was different. But not as different as I am now. Now I look in the mirror and I see a Mama. I see someone who made it through the biggest challenges she's ever faced. Someone who gave birth, fought to feed her child, fought depression, fought self hatred, fought self pity, learned to be a Mama, learned to be patient, fell in love with her baby. I am so much more than I was a year ago.

They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. This year proved to me that 'they' are right. Not only am I stronger, I'm smarter, I'm happier, I'm better.

Happy to Make Fridays More Fun

Have I mentioned lately how much I love hosting this game? I love movies, especially 80's movies. I love finding quotes to use every week, rediscovering movies that I love and researching them. I also love when people who I have never read win my game and then I get to check out a new blog. This is the second week in a row that this has happened! Cool. I'm out there, making Fridays more fun with a game! Yay me!



So this weeks winner is Kel from Mama? MAMA COME HERE! I love her blog design, her writing and I really love the shoes in her profile picture. Tell me Kel, are those your feet? And if they are then the answer to my next question – Are those your shoes? - would be, yes. Those are some nice feet and some cute shoes. I took a picture of my feet and shoes. Not quite so feminine and cute. Anyway, I'm off topic.



The quote was indeed from 'Willow'. Not an obvious 80's movie as it was made in the 80's but not set in the 80's. I had decided I wanted to pick a Science Fiction movie this week. I wouldn't really call this one Science Fiction but once I found 'Willow' I couldn't let it go. I loved this movie. I loved Willow and his village and his cute and tiny children. I loved his wife who cut off her long, long braid and gave it to him before he went away for 'good luck'. And the baby, that red headed baby. Elora Danan. I loved her. Elora. Hmmm. I like that name. Maybe if I have another girl someday...





Val Kilmer was pretty much the most famous actor in this film. Even though his character was cruel, rude and insufferable I still found him strangely attractive. I'm glad that my real life taste in men doesn't mirror the taste I have for the characters in movies that I sometimes find attractive... David Aames, Thin Man, and perhaps the most disturbing (and the one I'm most uncomfortable to admit) Hannibal Lecter. I know, I know. Don't ask because I don't know. If anyone else would like to make me feel better and fess up to having felt the same way, feel free.

So anyway, I am full of love today. I love you all and my gift to you each Friday is Say WHAT? I hope that you enjoy playing and that it gives you something to look forward to at the end of the week. Other than all the many other things that the weekend brings. For me the weekend brings: Work (unfortunately), Peter time, free time, possibly a nap and waffles.

Oh and writing this.

Say WHAT?

It's Friday again and that means it's time for Say WHAT? The AMAZING 80's quote trivia game. In case you haven't played before, here is the down low – At the bottom of this post you will find a quote from an 80's movie. If you choose to play you must, without using the internet as a resource, guess which 80's movie the quote has been taken from. Fun, huh? Leave your guesses in the comments section and if you are the first to correctly identify the quote, you win! I announce the winner on Sunday and that winner receives acknowledgment, linkage and if they have a profile picture I post that also. I recap the winner every Friday and include all of the aforementioned information.

Last week's winner was Brony from Parenting with a mental illness. This blogging thing is amazing. I have an ever increasing list of blogs that I try to read regularly. My only wish is that I always had enough time to read them all every single day.



Don't forget to come back on Sunday to see if you are a winner. Have fun and good luck!





""I love you Sorsha?" I don't love her, she kicked me in the face! I hate her... Don't I?"

A Moment of Insanity

So this morning I get a phone call from my Lactation Consultant, Noreen. She and I have become quite close over the past year. We first met the day after I had Baby A. I was a brand new mom, excited and optimistic. During our weeks stay in the hospital she witnessed my complete and total breakdown dealing with a baby that just couldn't/wouldn't eat. She was just too sick and too sleepy to breastfeed properly. Reluctantly Noreen suggested that we start bottle feeding. I was heartbroken, thinking that I would never be able to breastfeed my baby. That I was destined to attach myself to a pump instead. I resolved to do whatever it took. The bottle feeding was successful, it allowed my pumped milk to pour down her tiny throat with ease. Once she was eating better her jaundice went away and they allowed us to go home.

I struggled with breastfeeding for a week, offering the breast first and then sadly giving the bottle. One of my midwives came over two times a day during that week to help us and by the end of the week we stopped using the bottle. Our difficulties didn't end there. Although A had learned how to nurse properly she had developed an aversion to breastfeeding. I spent three very long months that tried what little patience I had to it's very limits breastfeeding a very unhappy baby. I made many phone calls to Noreen asking a multitude of questions. Basically I needed reassurance that I was doing the right thing, that contrary to how my baby was acting, she was getting enough of the best I had to give.



Sometime during those early months I started going to La Leche League meetings. I first went feeling insecure, asking a lot of questions and not wanting to stand out in any way. I still attend these meetings and after overcoming my many, many breastfeeding difficulties I have the opportunity to offer words of support and wisdom (?) to the many moms I meet there who may or may not be having a hard time. Every now and then I'll meet a mom at one of these meetings who has that same look of underlying terror on their face. That look I know so intimately. I go up to her when the meeting is over, introduce myself and offer both my phone number and my email address. I'll never forget how horribly alone I felt those first few months and I'll do whatever I can to prevent anyone else from ever having to feel that way too.

Perhaps this journey of mine is what inspired Noreen called me this morning. Asking me if I would participate in World Breastfeeding Week (October 1st - 7th) by agreeing to be interviewed by our local television station about breastfeeding. In a moment of insanity I said “Yes.” So I'm gonna go on T.V. and draw attention to the part of my body that I have the most issues about. That's okay, it's for the good of all Mamas out there. I can do it. What should I wear? I'm thinking something black, and um... minimizing.

Since I'm practicing my bravery here I'm posting a picture I never thought I'd post... even scarier than my stretch marky tummy...



P.S. I know that some of you have likely heard me go on about my breastfeeding journey before and it wasn't that good the first time around. Sorry. I thought for those who might not know the story needed background.

A Slap In My Solid Rock Face

Yesterday I had my yearly physical. (Any of my male friends reading can please feel free to quit reading any time now.) I haven't been to my doctor since before I got pregnant. He thoroughly impressed me during that visit when after telling him that I planned to see a midwife he basically told me he disapproved. (Can you sense my sarcasm?) I was surprised to find he had a very stereotypical attitude towards midwifery and was extremely misinformed. I found this to be disappointing and I lost a lot of respect for him.

What I should have done today was told him how wonderful my experience with my midwife was how amazing the birth was and how happy I was that I had chosen a midwife over a physician. I didn't. I was dreading my pap smear. My midwife did my last one during my final postpartum visit and I can truly say it was lovely. She warmed the speculum in hot water first and was so gentle. I barely felt what she was doing. I remember thinking “So this doesn't have to hurt?” It wasn't so bad today. It still wasn't as glorious as the one my midwife had done for me but I wasn't expecting it to be.

As I was sitting in the waiting room I noticed a cardboard standup ad for Botox. I was kind of shocked. This was a regular clinic, with regular doctors and regular patients. I was not at a plastic surgeons or dermatologist's office. Aren't regular doctors supposed to discourage the injection of botulinum toxin into our bodies? Or at the very least NOT ADVERTISE IT IN THEIR OFFICES? Whatever.

Once I was in seeing my doctor and the unpleasantries were over we had a nice little chit chat about this and that. How old is my daughter? Is she walking? That kind of stuff. I mentioned that we were planning to try for another baby in the next year. Then a slightly concerned look came over his face. What was it? Could he tell just by talking to me that I was a horrible mother? Did he somehow know that if I had another baby I would simply loose my mind altogether and Peter would be stuck taking care of the children as well as his insane wife. I wondered what he was about to say. Then he hit me with it. “You might want to consider loosing some weight before getting pregnant again.” It was like a slap in the face. “Have you been eating a balanced diet and getting exercise?” he asked me. I fought the urge to tell him that all I ate was chocolate and I tried to get as little exercise as humanly possible. “Yes, I try to do as much as I can with what limited time I have.” He nodded. I also told him I only gained 20lbs during my pregnancy. I forgot to tell him that I actually weigh less now than I did when I got pregnant the first time. (Peter reminded me of this when I was whining to him about how badly I felt)

I also forgot to tell him that my family has passed down a freakish genetic disorder. My bones are made from solid rock which causes me to weigh much more than my appearance suggests. This comes in handy when people try to knock me over but it is not so good for my self esteem. It is the reason that I NEVER get on the scale (unless I want to intentionally plunge myself into the depths of despair) except at my stupid yearly physicals!!! But how much do I really value the opinion of a doctor who advertises Botox in his office anyway.

A Year's Worth of Guilt

I'm always especially sad to see the end of a long weekend. Oh well...

So last Friday was my first Friday back at work and Miss A's first day with a real and actual sitter instead of her Auntie or Dada. I was of course very worked up about it, cause that's just how I am. I made up a list of everything I had to make sure that I packed for her 9-4 day without me. Milk, bottle, cereal, Cheerios, lunch, popcorn twists, diapers, wipes and Tylenol.

I was up early so I had time to do everything I needed to do. Pump, breakfast, makeup, hair, make lunch, pack breast pump. Get Little A up, dressed and have our morning cuddle/nurse. AND we left on time and arrived on time. Thank heaven for small miracles. Baby A was thrilled to be there because hey, she loves people she doesn't know and there were toys set out in containers on the floor. She immediately crawled over to them, looked up at me with those big blue eyes and smiled. I said “Bye, bye.” and headed back out to my car.

Something strange started to happen as I was crossing the street to get to my car. My eyes started stinging and then they began to water. Soon there were tear drops rolling down my cheeks and my throat was aching. Crying. I was crying because I was leaving my baby for the day so that I could go to work. This was unexpected. Allow me to sound like a total cold hearted Mama here and admit to you all that I have NEVER cried when leaving Baby A before. I left her with my sister when she was 3 and ½ months old and I didn't cry. Feel guilty, yes. Feel sad, yes. Cry? No. When Peter and I have rarely gone out on dates and left her with one of her Aunties I didn't bat an eye. Her name might have come up on our date and I was happy to see her little face when the time came to pick her up but I was grateful for the time away. So you can see why this sudden emotional episode caught me off guard.

I had nearly composed myself when I walked into my workplace. That's when I started to wonder what exactly had set me off. Was it the fact that I was leaving her with someone new? Had the stress just suddenly caught up with me? Was I overtired? Was I just having difficulty coping with the change in our schedule? Whatever it was it made me take notice of just how much my love for that little munchkin has grown. I used to enjoy the chance to get out, have a break, catch my breath. I felt unsure of myself as a mother, thinking that I must not be cut out for it or else I wouldn't be so eager to get away. I felt burdened, resentful and exhausted. And worst of all, I had done it to myself so I had no one but myself to blame. I actually felt sorry for my sweet baby who hadn't asked to be brought into this world only to have a mother that couldn't seem to cope with the responsibility of it all.

But those tears I cried on Friday, they washed away a year's worth of guilt. And man do I feel squeaky clean!

Nice to Meet You and Congratulations!

Although I love it when someone I know wins Say WHAT? I also think it is super cool when someone who I don't know and has never commented before wins. This way I am introduced to someone new, check out their blog and add it to my ridiculously long list of blogs that I want to read regularly. (If only there was more time...) Such was the case this week when Brony from Parenting with a mental illness guessed the 80's quote was from 'Flashdance'. I referenced 'Flashdance' this week and I wondered if that would give my quote away. Apparently not.



I have a vivid memory of seeing this movie. I remember begging my mother to take me to 'Footloose' which was playing as a double bill along with 'Flashdance'. Unfortunately 'Flashdance' was playing first. The issue was not that each of those movie's content was TOTALLY inappropriate for a seven year old, but that they were playing on a school night. I must have been terribly obnoxious because my mother finally agreed to take me. (I seriously can't believe my mother took me to see a movie about an exotic dancer at the age of seven. I think this says a lot about my upbringing.) I only saw about half of 'Footloose' because it was getting ridiculously late and my mother insisted that she must get me home to bed. (So I could dream about growing up to become an exotic dancer.) Of course I have since seen the rest of 'Footloose'. Several times.



Looking back I realize that 'Flashdance' wasn't a totally bad influence on me. Although 'Alex' was a sexually explicit, I mean artsy, dancer by night, she was a welder by day. A very unconventional job for a woman in the 80's. Although she had a terrible potty mouth and was sleeping with her much older boss she was also tough, feisty and didn't put up with no crap from nobody. She rode her ten speed everywhere and most of all she was an amazing dancer. (or at least her double was) So she wasn't a totally crappy role model for a seven year old girl. Except for maybe, the leg warmers.

I think I was always obsessed with anything dance related. I also remember that more than anything in the world I wanted to be a 'Solid Gold Dancer' when I grew up. I liked everything about them. Their dancing, their hair, their flashy outfits. What was not to love? Um... yeah, I was weird. They were cool back then though. They were Da Bomb! I hardly remember the show actually. Only that I wanted to be one of their dancers.



Ah, writing about this one has brought back a lot of memories. I must now go and reminisce about all the other totally inappropriate stuff I was exposed to at an early age. Ta ta.

Say WHAT?

It's Friday again (sadly, I'm at work right now) and that means it's time for Say WHAT? The AMAZING 80's quote trivia game. In case you haven't played before, here is the down low – At the bottom of this post you will find a quote from an 80's movie. If you choose to play you must, without using the internet as a resource, guess which 80's movie the quote has been taken from. Fun, huh? Leave your guesses in the comments section and if you are the first to correctly identify the quote, you win! I announce the winner on Sunday and that winner receives acknowledgment, linkage and if they have a profile picture I post that also. I recap the winner every Friday and include all of the aforementioned information.

Last week's fair and square winner was Bon from The Mama. When I started this blogging thing I never in a zillion years thought I would make any friends. Especially any as cool as she is! I consider myself blessed.



Don't forget to come back on Sunday to see if you are a winner. Have fun and good luck!




"I'm sorry. But I don't have dinner with the boss. Thanks anyway."