Things I thought I'd never do as a parent

Darling daughter has been sick for the last day. It started when she vomited in her car seat on our way to a friend's house in the morning. It included throwing up all over her jumperoo in the afternoon. And it ended when she upchucked the sweet potatoes that dear husband fed her for dinner. I knew that vomiting would be part of the job discription when becoming a parent, but I never knew that I would be catching darling daughter's vomit with my hands.

So that experience leads to an interesting question: what else have I've done in the last eight months as a parent that I never thought I'd ever do?

Number one: counting poos and pees. Yep. Those first days after darling daughter was born, dear husband and I would deligently count the number of poos and pees she had as well as their consistency. We'd proudly take these lists to doctor's appointments and health clinics, just in case someone needed to know how many bowel movements she had between lunchtime and dinner.

Number two: analyzing the consistency of darling daughter's bowel movements. I know it is disgusting and perhaps too much information, but they can say a lot of the health of your baby. Is she constipated? Does she diarrha? Does it look normal? Yep, there have been plenty of times that I have stared at her dirty diaper, hoping it would give me an answer.

Number three: purchasing foam squares. I swore up and down before I ever got pregnant that I would never buy foam squares because, personally, I think they are ugly. However, when I started hosting playdates, I soon came to the realization that my hardwood floors are not really conducive to baby playdates. So I bought eight squares, which eventually expanded to 12. I'm now contemplating getting another four. If you are interested, you can buy them at Canadian Tire, Wal-Mart and even the Real Canadian Superstore.

Number four: owning toys that make noise. Maybe the best $10 (or the worst, depending on what mood I am in) I ever spent at a consignment store was on a discovery nursery farm. Darling daughter loves to bang the colourful keys and poke at the plastic farm animals. This is one of the many toys she has that makes noise. She has a puppy that sings and plays music, the jumperoo, a monkey that balances on a ball and a cruise and crawl jungle. Yep, and they are all powered by batteries. Don't even get me started on my theory that the toy companies are in collusion with the battery companies.

Number five: that starting solids would be so stressful. Who knew that pureeing vegetables and fruit that would be so complicated? What food should I start her on? Is it nutritious enough? Is she getting enough? Is she eating too much? Is it organic? Gosh, it is enough to make you go batty.

Number six: that sex with dear husband would become a low priority. Sad, but true. Even months after darling daughter's birth, sleep seems so much attractive.

Number seven: that I'd drag my daughter's exersaucer in front of the television so she can watch Baby Einstein. During some very stressful, but rare days, Baby Einstein has been my saviour. I know I sound like a horrible parent, but some days you gotta do what you gotta do to survive, and that includes giving in and by popping in the Baby Einstein DVD and watch the DVD work its magic. And work it does. Who knew that bright colourful toys and classical music would be a perfect match?

Number eight: that I could love someone so much that my heart hurts. She is my heart and my soul. My crowning achievement.

Sorry Madonna, time does not go by so slowly

Tomorrow is Friday. Many in the workforce celebrate the arrival of Friday. For me, it is just another day of the week.

I am slowly learning that motherhood doesn't include weekends, statutory holidays or vacation time when you have a baby. Although weekends do consist of family time for dear husband, darling daughter and myself, Saturday and Sunday just seem like any other day of the week, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. However, the weeks are flying by. Someone recently told me that when you have a child the days go by so slowly, but the months go by so quickly. I am learning that this statement is very true.

Darling daughter recently turned eight months. One day we brought her home from the hospital, and the next day she is crawling.

The concept of time hit home yesterday when I was talking to my accountant over the phone. We were chatting about children and how fast they grow up. For some reason I thought her kids were eight or 10 years old. Nope. They are 16 and 13 and the eldest has her driver's licence.

I enjoy every day I have with darling daughter. These days are a gift. But it seems like I can't fully enjoy my gift because she is growing up so quickly. One of these days she is going to pull herself up and then start to walk. It will be bittersweet seeing my darling daughter take her first steps. It will be bittersweet seeing my daughter go off to kindergarten. It will be bittersweet to watch darling daughter graduate high school and then head off to university. It will be bittersweet to see her get married and have children. Although it seems like those milestones are an eternity away, I now realize they aren't. These milestones will come and go in a blink of an eye. All I can do, as a parent, is enjoy the ride.

Why can't my kid live in a bubble?

I am just like that mom in the baby wipes commercial who puts their kid in a bubble. But instead of worrying that my child will get dirty while playing on the playground, I'm afraid my kid will knock her noggin. Ever since actress Natasha Richardson took a spill on a bunny hill and died due to the trauma her head sustained in the fall, I've been watching darling daughter like a hawk.

I realize that bumps, bruises and spills at this age happen. However, that doesn't make me any less fearful. Recently, I slept on darling daughter's bedroom floor after she clunked her head on the base of her jumperoo while crawling. Damn thing! I really should bubble wrap the stand. This happened about two days after Richardson case hit the news. I took no chances and had a horrible sleep on the futon mattress that I got dear husband to drag into her room.

I know this fear of mine is leading into paranoia, but I can't help it. If an actress can die after a seemingly innocent fall on a ski hill, what happens when my baby, MY BABY, decides that she wants to walk and whacks her head on my hardwood floors when she loses her step? Even sitting up can be dangerous. We were practicing the other day in front of her new baby cruise and crawl toy when she suddenly fell over and hit the plastic leaves above the wide-mouth hippo. Damn thing! I really need to bubble wrap those leaves too.

I highly doubt that they sell baby sized hamster balls at consignment stores, so I guess I will have to confront my own paranoia and tell myself that bumps and bruises are a part of childhood. It is a hard pill to swallow. But I can always get a helmet, couldn't I?

Misunderstood? I think not

No, Greg Gutfeld we didn’t misunderstood you. We heard you loud and clear.
According to Gutfeld, a commentator on Fox News, the Canadian public “misunderstood” his words when he and his panel ridiculed the Canadian Forces on his late night show, Red Eye with Greg Gutfeld, last week.
Gutfeld’s segment was in response to comments made by Lt.-Gen Andrew Leslie, Canada’s commander of land forces, who suggested that the military will need to take a year off to recover from the Afghan mission when its operations in the war torn country start to wind down in 2011. According to Gutfeld, the Canadian army will use the time to “do some yoga, paint some landscapes and run on the beach in gorgeous white Capri pants.”
Since the segment has hit the Internet earlier this week, backlash by the Canadian public has been immense. Canadian Defence Minister Peter MacKay calls what was said by Gutfeld and his posse crass and disgusting. Gutfeld, who was too gutless to speak to the Canadian media, issued an apology through Fox News. This is what Gutfeld had to say: “However, I realize that my words may have been misunderstood. It was not my intent to disrespect the brave men, women and families of the Canadian military, and for that I apologize.”
Gutfeld describes Red Eye as a “satirical take on the news, in which all topics are addressed in a lighthearted, humourous and ridiculous manner.”
I have watched the clip several times. Instead of discussing the Canadian military in a “lighthearted, humourous and ridiculous manner,” it was a bunch of ignorant yahoos talking trash about a subject that they failed to do their research on. One pundit, Doug Benson, didn’t realize that Canada was even in the war.
Canada has lost 116 soldiers and one diplomat since the war in Afghanistan started in 2002, including Master Corporal Scott Vernelli, who died while on foot patrol on March 20. The small community of Petawawa has lost 38 of its troops since 2003. Master Corporal Vernelli leaves behind his wife, and his six-month-old daughter, Olivia. I don’t think Vernelli’s comrades will be running on the beach in their gorgeous white Capri pants any time soon.
So the moral of the story is this: when you are going to satirize a serious subject, do your homework, know the facts and perform your shtick with people who are actually informed about the subject, not with those who believe Canada is a land of ice and snow, Mounties wear red jackets and ride horses while on patrol. Not only do you look boorish Gutfeld and Co., you also look like asses. Don't expect a true apology from this gutless goof and his band of ignorant imbeciles.

Why the hell won't my kid sit up?

I know every baby is different (this is one of my favourite lines to use when someone asks why their child isn't hitting a certain milestone) and she will eventually do it, but I'm perplexed as to why darling daughter won't sit up. It isn't because she can't. It is a flat out I don't wanna attitude on her part. When you try to put her in the sitting position, her back gets rigid before she starts to recline towards the floor. Yeah, life would be easier if she could sit up, but sometimes darling daughter doesn't want to make her mother's life easier.

I was okay with her not sitting up until today. All the babies at today's playdate could sit up. Even a five month old at a playdate last week could sit up. Darling daughter has at least two months on this kid and the younger baby could sit up without any assistance. My kid? Well, she just kind of slides onto her side when she decides not to make her back go rigid.

Today I learned from Ottawa Public Health that I've got four weeks, FOUR WEEKS, to get my kid to sit up. Well, it isn't the end of the world if she doesn't sit up before she turns nine months, but it is one of those milestones she should conquor before she turns nine months. According to the public health representative I spoke to today, it should only take her a week, with the help of practice, to get the hang of it. Practice or no practice, I don't know if she will be able to do this. But all I know I have four weeks to get to sit up. I'll keep you posted on what happens.

It's a bad food day and it isn't even 1 p.m. yet

Well, so far today I have ate some yummy banana bread, a chocolate timbit and I just polished off the brownie pie I made yesterday. Although I tell myself that dear husband ate most of it, I'm sure I helped and most of it will land on my hips. I wouldn't be all upset at my little indiscretion when it comes to eating too much chocolate goodness, but Saturday wasn't a good food day either. Tomorrow isn't likely to be any better as I'm hosting a potluck and those usually spell trouble. It is easier on the conscious to bring sinful food to a playdate and share it with others than it is to eat it at home alone.

To be honest, it is hard to eat healthy when you spend most of your time at home. Cookies, potato chips and chocolate that some how find a home in my kitchen cupboards usually make their way into my mouth.

It is a never ending cycle that I'm trying to stop. But that chocolateness goodness always calls out to me. Oh well, tomorrow is another day.

Tragedy

The recent death of four Canadian soliders based at CFB Petawawa have been on my mind since I first learned of the news last night. One of the soldiers, 28-year-old Master Corporal Scott Vernelli, leaves behind a six-month-old daughter. In September, local news media did a news story on Master Corporal Vernelli and his wife, who were expecting their first child. A couple of weeks later, a television crew revisited the family after his wife gave birth. Since I had recently gave birth at the time, the couple's story stuck in my mind.

Last night, I kept on thinking about Master Corporal Vernelli's baby girl and his wife. It is heartbreaking this little girl will never know her father. I know my thoughts, and the thoughts of countless Canadians, will be with this family. However, this is likely little comfort to a baby girl and her mother who have lost a piece of their heart.