Breast feeding has been all over the media lately. Or maybe I'm just noticing it because I'm an avid breast feeder. I'm not quite sure but either way I've noticed that our society has a twisted and perverted view of breast feeding. Come to think of it, North Americans have a perverted view of breasts period. When the Pope is a supporter! But that's not good enough for us is it?!
I'll start by saying, feeding one's child is not perverse. It's not sexual by any stretch of the imagination and yet somehow you are made to feel like a complete perv for feeding your hungry baby in public. Not all the time and not everywhere but as I found out today, the population in some spots in our beautiful city is dead set against it. Truthfully I'd always heard about people's objections through others, but I'd never actually seen it until today. This could likely be due to my being oblivious or perhaps my tendency to hang in areas and amongst people in support of breast feeding. Today however, I realized I'm not in Kansas anymore.
After a week of some hardcore polar bear friendly temperatures, we had a lovely day that felt like spring...by Canadian standards at least. The rest of the world would probably still see it as sh*t cold. So being the hibernator that I am, why I live in Canada is a whole other ball of wax, I decided it was time for Cyrus and mommy to hit the town. So we hit the aquarium. On our way back, the little man was hungry so I sat down at union station, pulled out my feeding cover and proceeded to feed the little man. That's when I saw it. At least 90% of the people walking by me were giving me stink eye. Honestly you'd think I was doing something ungodly where all I was doing was feeding my child. Come to think of it there used to be a crazy homeless dude that would wank his junk on College street that got less stink eye than I did. He'll I think he way have gotten some air high fives, for obvious reasons, too! In other words, my act of feeding my 5 month old is more offensive than Mr wanky doodle waving and abusing his junk in public! Really?! I even had a mother pull her son away and give me the look of "how dare you!" I guess that's how we manage to create a population of people with a twisted sense of right and wrong" seriously people get over it!!! The sad part is I was fully covered, not that it should matter, but it was the sheer thought of me baring a boob that offended at least 50-60 people in a very short time span. Hell I think Mr Wankovic got more praise for his junk show than I did for providing Cyrus with nutrients. When did we decide this is a sexual act of any sort? Why are we as a society so damn twisted that we have managed to chastise the most natural form of feeding for a child? Why don't we reserve the stink eye for when we're feeding our young kids pop (soda for my American friends) and candy and McDonalds? When we allow our 12 year old to dress up like $2 hookers with pounds of makeup and clothes that are much too revealing? Why is it that we celebrate things like child pageants as being normal and a breast feeding mother as the pervert? What happened to us to make us so delusional? What's wrong with that picture?! EVERYTHING is wrong with that picture!
My dear friends and readers I ask you to please support all the mothers you know regardless of whether they are Breast feeding or bottle feeding. We are all trying to do the same here which is help our monkeys grow. It's not a perverse act regardless of its source. Let's take a step towards acceptance for if this negative view continues breast feeding mothers may have to do as Mr Wanker did to detract negative attention and warrant some high fives. Sad that this is a battle of Mother vs Sir Wanksalot to see who the real perv is.
We've created this blog to keep our friends and family in the loop with the good times to be had at 18 Emerson. We ourselves are always so curious to find out what's happening in other people's houses (oh don't gimme that look you know you are too!) that we figured what the heck, come on in everyone! No hard hats required.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Friday, January 10, 2014
Parenting: a prison sentence?
Oh the crazy road that is parenthood. Life will never be the same. Weekends no longer exist. You'll never be sure of anything again. Over the years many of you have laughed at us and told blatantly told us that we don't get it. Truthfully, we laughed at you and thought oh we get it. Hey what do you know, you were right. Ha! Val and I always swore we'd be the take Charge parents that didn't let our kids run things. It worked for a while! We'd still do our thing and Cyrus would sleep in his chair wherever. We thought hell this is EASY! Then Cyrus started becoming more aware of things and wanted to be entertained all the time and so started the true road to being parents.
I'm not writing this to scare any non parents. In fact I had a conversation with a friend today to whom this seems like a horrible prison sentence. "You can't go out! No time to yourself!!" While I wont't deny the need sometimes for some more "me time" or "us time" I will also says this, despite every parent's horror stories of sleep deprivation, getting pooped on, vomited on, not being able to pee alone, have a warm meal or have an adult conversation with your spouse etc. I can promise you we all feel having kids was the greatest thing we've accomplished and no success will even come close to feeling as satisfying. Funny thing about you time and partying is that you get over it after a while. There comes a time that it won't be as enjoyable anymore and you want more. You'll want to pass on your insanity and that's where the kids come in. Personally when I got pregnant and we had Cyrus, We felt complete. Like a part of our family puzzle that was missing was finally in place. One thing I'll say to those who find this parenting thing terrifying is that you have to be ready and to be ready there in mind that there are no timelines. While some may be ready at 20, others take longer...he'll some may never get there but if you're not a 100% ready for your life to change forever, don't do it. You have lots of time, enjoy every second of life in all forms. That's what it's all about. This is also why we waited till our 30's to have kids because we wanted to go on crazy vacations, party like Rock stars, drink our faces off n do it until we didn't want to do it anymore. But when you take that plunge because you really want it, that moment when you hold your child for the first time will be the most beautiful and mind blowing experience of your life. You'll cherish it for ever and there will never be a night out, a sap day, safari or sky diving adventure raft will ever replicate that high for you. The moment they smile at you, roll over, clap their hands or he'll just acknowledge your existence will be the most exquisite moment of your life and nothing else will matter.
As I sit watching him bounce around in his little excersaucer, speaking a language at this point only he understands but clearly whatever he's saying us super important judging by his expression, I can't think of anything else that would be more awesome than just this. Watching my son grow, learn and discover. Trust me parenting is no prison sentence. You will get vomited on, pooped on, screamed at, peed on and you'll adore it all. You can't tell me you'd adore it if someone at a club did that shit ;)
I'm not writing this to scare any non parents. In fact I had a conversation with a friend today to whom this seems like a horrible prison sentence. "You can't go out! No time to yourself!!" While I wont't deny the need sometimes for some more "me time" or "us time" I will also says this, despite every parent's horror stories of sleep deprivation, getting pooped on, vomited on, not being able to pee alone, have a warm meal or have an adult conversation with your spouse etc. I can promise you we all feel having kids was the greatest thing we've accomplished and no success will even come close to feeling as satisfying. Funny thing about you time and partying is that you get over it after a while. There comes a time that it won't be as enjoyable anymore and you want more. You'll want to pass on your insanity and that's where the kids come in. Personally when I got pregnant and we had Cyrus, We felt complete. Like a part of our family puzzle that was missing was finally in place. One thing I'll say to those who find this parenting thing terrifying is that you have to be ready and to be ready there in mind that there are no timelines. While some may be ready at 20, others take longer...he'll some may never get there but if you're not a 100% ready for your life to change forever, don't do it. You have lots of time, enjoy every second of life in all forms. That's what it's all about. This is also why we waited till our 30's to have kids because we wanted to go on crazy vacations, party like Rock stars, drink our faces off n do it until we didn't want to do it anymore. But when you take that plunge because you really want it, that moment when you hold your child for the first time will be the most beautiful and mind blowing experience of your life. You'll cherish it for ever and there will never be a night out, a sap day, safari or sky diving adventure raft will ever replicate that high for you. The moment they smile at you, roll over, clap their hands or he'll just acknowledge your existence will be the most exquisite moment of your life and nothing else will matter.
As I sit watching him bounce around in his little excersaucer, speaking a language at this point only he understands but clearly whatever he's saying us super important judging by his expression, I can't think of anything else that would be more awesome than just this. Watching my son grow, learn and discover. Trust me parenting is no prison sentence. You will get vomited on, pooped on, screamed at, peed on and you'll adore it all. You can't tell me you'd adore it if someone at a club did that shit ;)
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Too Crunchy to Cry It Out
When I was a little girl, my mom came home with one of those baby dolls that had a tape that made them cry or laugh depending on which side of the tape you had on. I remember falling in love with that doll right away. My mom was a bit shocked to be truthful because as a general rule of thumb I wasn't the doll loving kinda girl. I was a Tom boy from a very young age, growing up in a country in the midst of an epic war. My toy collection mostly consisted of toy guns, trucks swords etc. That doll, however was different for some reason. It changed me. I quickly decided I would have the laughter on all the time because when the doll cried it made me really sad. I swear, It broke my heart. I just couldn't bear to hear that cry.
Fast forward nearly 30 years, I'm a mother to an awesome little boy and when he cries, it takes me back. It breaks my heart and I want to put his laughter side of the tape on when I can. Unfortunately crying seems to go hand in hand with sleep "training" which is where we're at right now. Being the nerdy trainer that I am, I like to learn everything there is to know about a task before I take that knowledge, mix it up, make it my own and execute. I started reading, asking questions and just taking in all this "data" to learn everything about all methods of sleep coaching out there. The most common advice and literature available is to let him cry it out. Some say stay in the room and do it others say close the door and do it but either way the best way to do it, most say, is Cry It Out. So That's how I started. And it took me a split second to decide it's not for me. I actually went out of my comfort zone and tried it the full day but it just isn't for me. I'm not saying it doesn't work; I know many parents that have done this successfully and they have perfectly healthy children who are well balanced and do not hate them by any means so it obviously works. It's just not for me. It took me back to my little doll and I felt that anxiety again and I just am not okay with it. It's me, not the method. So realizing and accepting this I remembered the best piece of parenting advice we got from some friends and family members and that was "Do what works for you regardless of what everyone tells you you SHOULD do". So I went back to the drawing board to see of there's a mother way. At this point I should mention I was raised by parents with borderline hippie ideologies so needless to say they think I'm nuts for even trying but that's another story. Bottom line is I was not exposed to sleep coaching/ training. I slept in my own room, I didn't co sleep with my parents, I grew up without dependency issues in fact I'm more of a hermit than anything. I eventually learned to sleep and nap and all in all I grew up fine. So there is another way. I'm not the only one who was raised this way. I do require more structure though so I decided I have to find my own balance. What is that balance? I don't know yet. I guess Val and I have to figure out what really works best in our life for both of us but bottom line is I'm just too damn crunchy to Cry It Out. I believe in osteopaths and naturopaths. I breast feed in public. I wear my baby boy every chance I get. I spend a crap load of time singing some Kumbaya shit around the camp fire. I use organic non toxic products that are mostly local. I eat humane meat and avoid products that aren't cruelty free. I bike to work, I walk where I can, I do Yoga, I eat off my garden (Val's the gardener I forget to water things) in the summer and talk about my freaking feelings. Don't get me wrong I'm not fully crunchy, I don't co sleep, I won't be breast feeding when he's 10, I still drive where I need to, I'm not vegan, PETA has told me to honk on Bobo (no joke they really did) and I have fancy appliances. All I'm saying is I'm just too crunchy to cry it out. So I continue with my sleep coaching (notice the softer use of words) journey and though truthfully it scares and intimidates me a bit, it shall get done.
Before becoming a mother I did a lot of chirping. "I won't let kids change my life" "I'll still..." "I will put them on such n such schedule" so on and so forth...I have now placed all those statements in a bowl with my crunchy ass granola and I'm eating them with my organic non dairy milk alternative.
Fast forward nearly 30 years, I'm a mother to an awesome little boy and when he cries, it takes me back. It breaks my heart and I want to put his laughter side of the tape on when I can. Unfortunately crying seems to go hand in hand with sleep "training" which is where we're at right now. Being the nerdy trainer that I am, I like to learn everything there is to know about a task before I take that knowledge, mix it up, make it my own and execute. I started reading, asking questions and just taking in all this "data" to learn everything about all methods of sleep coaching out there. The most common advice and literature available is to let him cry it out. Some say stay in the room and do it others say close the door and do it but either way the best way to do it, most say, is Cry It Out. So That's how I started. And it took me a split second to decide it's not for me. I actually went out of my comfort zone and tried it the full day but it just isn't for me. I'm not saying it doesn't work; I know many parents that have done this successfully and they have perfectly healthy children who are well balanced and do not hate them by any means so it obviously works. It's just not for me. It took me back to my little doll and I felt that anxiety again and I just am not okay with it. It's me, not the method. So realizing and accepting this I remembered the best piece of parenting advice we got from some friends and family members and that was "Do what works for you regardless of what everyone tells you you SHOULD do". So I went back to the drawing board to see of there's a mother way. At this point I should mention I was raised by parents with borderline hippie ideologies so needless to say they think I'm nuts for even trying but that's another story. Bottom line is I was not exposed to sleep coaching/ training. I slept in my own room, I didn't co sleep with my parents, I grew up without dependency issues in fact I'm more of a hermit than anything. I eventually learned to sleep and nap and all in all I grew up fine. So there is another way. I'm not the only one who was raised this way. I do require more structure though so I decided I have to find my own balance. What is that balance? I don't know yet. I guess Val and I have to figure out what really works best in our life for both of us but bottom line is I'm just too damn crunchy to Cry It Out. I believe in osteopaths and naturopaths. I breast feed in public. I wear my baby boy every chance I get. I spend a crap load of time singing some Kumbaya shit around the camp fire. I use organic non toxic products that are mostly local. I eat humane meat and avoid products that aren't cruelty free. I bike to work, I walk where I can, I do Yoga, I eat off my garden (Val's the gardener I forget to water things) in the summer and talk about my freaking feelings. Don't get me wrong I'm not fully crunchy, I don't co sleep, I won't be breast feeding when he's 10, I still drive where I need to, I'm not vegan, PETA has told me to honk on Bobo (no joke they really did) and I have fancy appliances. All I'm saying is I'm just too crunchy to cry it out. So I continue with my sleep coaching (notice the softer use of words) journey and though truthfully it scares and intimidates me a bit, it shall get done.
Before becoming a mother I did a lot of chirping. "I won't let kids change my life" "I'll still..." "I will put them on such n such schedule" so on and so forth...I have now placed all those statements in a bowl with my crunchy ass granola and I'm eating them with my organic non dairy milk alternative.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Dear Santa, Thank you for a perfect Christmas
I found myself crying as I held Cyrus in the kitchen this morning. Now you may be wondering how that equates to a perfect Christmas. I'm about to tell you.
Throughout the years I've had my share of fun Christmases, sad Christmases, boring Christmases and so on. The best Christmases I had were when I was a kid for the most part. Surrounded by family, I remember my grandparents dancing in the living room in front of the Christmas tree as I tried to get in between them and participate in the dance. I also remember the Christmas I found out Santa didn't exist. I was probably around 5 years old. I waited up as long as I could for Santa to come and bring my presents but I finally fell asleep and woke up the next morning excited as can be to open my presents. I opened a pair of shoes, even then my obsession with shoes was in full bloom, only to realize that Santa got my shoe size wrong. Most kids would have sulked and been sad but not me. I went postal. I literally lost it in a nearly unholy way. If poor Santa actually existed he would have put me on the naughty list for the rest of my life after the hour of ape shit name calling I spent that Christmas morning. My parents, being the guilty parties, were stunned not sure what to think while feeling guilty at the same time. Later that day I caught my dad trying to sneak out and exchange my shoes and give Santa credit. That's when I learned Santa didn't exist and from that moment on, I milked it. Any who, back to why I was shedding tears this morning.
Over the years Christmas became stressful due to the need to get everyone the perfect gift. So much so that Val and I decided a few years back to no longer get each other gifts. Instead we just buy stuff throughout the year that we want. Makes it a heck of a lot less stressful. Regardless Christmas hasn't really had the same flare and excitement that it used to when I was a kid. This year was a bit different because we can now start new traditions and create that excitement for Cyrus. We debated so much about how to make it special for him. In the end we took him to see Santa, he cried like hell, just got together with the family and spent a fabulous night together eating, listening to Christmas tunes and watching the kids reactions as they opened some presents. It was Christmas again except this time we got to be on the parents side and it was exciting again. Now fast forward to the tears...
We woke up this morning made breakfast and Val and his mom cleaned up I stood there with Cyrus in my arms swaying to the sweet sounds of Christmas kissing his chubby little cheeks. It suddenly dawned on me that I've never had a Christmas this perfect. I finally got the perfect present and it fit perfectly in my arms. This sweet little monkey that was holding on to me as we danced around the kitchen together. He gave me kisses back which are him opening his mouth wide, slobbering drool all over my cheek which I just adore and smiling in return for my appreciation of these sweet baby kisses. This cute little Munster who insists on being a part of our conversations by screaming out vowels and consonants loudly in no particular order and giggling at his owned shared wisdom. Here was the prefect gift. I stood there tears streaming down my face feeling so overwhelmed as I looked around and saw myself surrounded by my sweet husband, our two adorable dogs and this perfect little man in my arms. I felt complete. It feels like I'm getting to live life all over again and recreate all the beautiful parts that I've appreciated over the years and this time I get to see it from a different perspective. This time I get to see the wonder and excitement through my son's eyes. I get to see his beautiful little face as he experiences all these firsts and it's perfect.
So for what it's worth:
Dear Santa,
I'm sorry for calling you all those nasty names so many years ago. I forgive you for getting my shoe size wrong. Thank you for keeping me on your good list and giving me the perfect Christmas present. You made Christmas awesome again.
Love,
Tash
Throughout the years I've had my share of fun Christmases, sad Christmases, boring Christmases and so on. The best Christmases I had were when I was a kid for the most part. Surrounded by family, I remember my grandparents dancing in the living room in front of the Christmas tree as I tried to get in between them and participate in the dance. I also remember the Christmas I found out Santa didn't exist. I was probably around 5 years old. I waited up as long as I could for Santa to come and bring my presents but I finally fell asleep and woke up the next morning excited as can be to open my presents. I opened a pair of shoes, even then my obsession with shoes was in full bloom, only to realize that Santa got my shoe size wrong. Most kids would have sulked and been sad but not me. I went postal. I literally lost it in a nearly unholy way. If poor Santa actually existed he would have put me on the naughty list for the rest of my life after the hour of ape shit name calling I spent that Christmas morning. My parents, being the guilty parties, were stunned not sure what to think while feeling guilty at the same time. Later that day I caught my dad trying to sneak out and exchange my shoes and give Santa credit. That's when I learned Santa didn't exist and from that moment on, I milked it. Any who, back to why I was shedding tears this morning.
Over the years Christmas became stressful due to the need to get everyone the perfect gift. So much so that Val and I decided a few years back to no longer get each other gifts. Instead we just buy stuff throughout the year that we want. Makes it a heck of a lot less stressful. Regardless Christmas hasn't really had the same flare and excitement that it used to when I was a kid. This year was a bit different because we can now start new traditions and create that excitement for Cyrus. We debated so much about how to make it special for him. In the end we took him to see Santa, he cried like hell, just got together with the family and spent a fabulous night together eating, listening to Christmas tunes and watching the kids reactions as they opened some presents. It was Christmas again except this time we got to be on the parents side and it was exciting again. Now fast forward to the tears...
We woke up this morning made breakfast and Val and his mom cleaned up I stood there with Cyrus in my arms swaying to the sweet sounds of Christmas kissing his chubby little cheeks. It suddenly dawned on me that I've never had a Christmas this perfect. I finally got the perfect present and it fit perfectly in my arms. This sweet little monkey that was holding on to me as we danced around the kitchen together. He gave me kisses back which are him opening his mouth wide, slobbering drool all over my cheek which I just adore and smiling in return for my appreciation of these sweet baby kisses. This cute little Munster who insists on being a part of our conversations by screaming out vowels and consonants loudly in no particular order and giggling at his owned shared wisdom. Here was the prefect gift. I stood there tears streaming down my face feeling so overwhelmed as I looked around and saw myself surrounded by my sweet husband, our two adorable dogs and this perfect little man in my arms. I felt complete. It feels like I'm getting to live life all over again and recreate all the beautiful parts that I've appreciated over the years and this time I get to see it from a different perspective. This time I get to see the wonder and excitement through my son's eyes. I get to see his beautiful little face as he experiences all these firsts and it's perfect.
So for what it's worth:
Dear Santa,
I'm sorry for calling you all those nasty names so many years ago. I forgive you for getting my shoe size wrong. Thank you for keeping me on your good list and giving me the perfect Christmas present. You made Christmas awesome again.
Love,
Tash
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Lessons Learned in Parenting
Hello again my fabulous readers. It's been over two months since my last post and I promise you I've had good reason to be absent this long. Let me catch you up.
After what seemed like a pregnancy that lasted a thousand years our little guy Cyrus made his grand entrance into the world on August 12th and I was immediately more in love than I ever thought possible. The second I met him, I forgot all about the excruciating amount of pain that had made me nearly punch a perfect stranger for being there as a contraction hit, the IV attempts that had ended up looking like a murder seen in the room and the last 17 hours of insanity that had followed once my water broke that brought us to that moment. The moment that we finally got to meet this little man that we were now responsible for and I was in awe of him; he was and is perfect.
After what seemed like a pregnancy that lasted a thousand years our little guy Cyrus made his grand entrance into the world on August 12th and I was immediately more in love than I ever thought possible. The second I met him, I forgot all about the excruciating amount of pain that had made me nearly punch a perfect stranger for being there as a contraction hit, the IV attempts that had ended up looking like a murder seen in the room and the last 17 hours of insanity that had followed once my water broke that brought us to that moment. The moment that we finally got to meet this little man that we were now responsible for and I was in awe of him; he was and is perfect.
Then life went on warp speed. Being a new parent is scary as you can imagine. Not only are you responsible for this beautiful little creature, but you have to care for them knowing absolutely nothing. It's as much of a learning curve for you as it is for them. Perhaps even a bigger one for you because you think you know...but trust me you don't. Lesson one: YOU DON'T KNOW SH*T! YOU ONLY THINK YOU DO.
The first couple of nights were strange at best. He'd wake up crying every hour at most and I'd wake up in a daze bumping into stuff and walk around so confused trying to figure out what was happening. So sleep was non existent. Not only because of the hourly wake up call but also because once in his bassinet, he'd make grunting noises and thrash about like he was kung fu fighting...I thought ...well I didn't know what the hell was going on or if he was okay so I'd spend the time between feedings on google. We all know how that can turn out. Lesson two: BABIES ARE KUNG FU MASTERS, NOW GET SOME SLEEP.
Despite the lack of sleep and not knowing sh*t, I was so overwhelmed with the amount of love I felt for him, I would burst out crying...like 15 times a day. Turns out the hormones add to that too...lol. I felt I finally knew the purpose of life..he was there doing some black belt sh*t in the bassinet at the end of our bed and he was going to bust some sh*t up. There were naturally the times that I would also cry because I was tired and lost and mostly tired and not used to being that tired anymore. Lesson three: BABY KUNG FU MASTERS MAKE YOU CRY...FOR MULTIPLE REASONS...NOW GET SOME SLEEP.
Then came the colic...oh it came, it conquered my ass I'll tell ya. Cyrus wouldn't stop screaming...that made me beg, plead and yes cry because I was tired, overwhelmed and for the first time in my life, I couldn't control this situation. I could not help my poor little munster resolve whatever it was that was bothering him. So I cried...Oh I cried, he cried, I felt guilt for failing him and being upset that I could not negotiate a stop crying contract with him, a friend told me to swaddle him and turn on a vacuum or hair dryer..Hey what do you know, it worked!! Lesson four: BABIES DO NOT NEGOTIATE, VACUUM NOISE GOOD.....NOW GET SOME SLEEP.
Before the colic, little Cyrus Munster slept pretty much all day long and only cried when he needed a diaper change or when he was hungry..so I'd do chores around the house and thought.."Oh this is how it's done. I got this down"..yea WRONG! The older they get the more demanding especially if you have a colicky baby, you will have very little time when you're not attending to baby. Lesson five: YOU WILL GET NOTHING DONE..NOW GET SOME SLEEP.
If you're lucky enough to have support, or rather smart enough to ask for it, you can take a break here and there you will not have to come to terms with this but I wasn't smart enough sooo I learned that eating, sleeping, peeing and showering are all luxuries. Heck even with support I haven't taken a shower longer than 5 minutes since Cyrus was born! I brush my teeth and wash my hair at the same time so I can get out before he wakes up! Another thing is food, I have only eaten two warm meals at most since Cyrus Munster came around. Sometimes I hear Stewie's voice saying " you think you can eat your warm meal do you? In that case I'm hungry now, feed me woman!" (flips bird).
As far as sleep is concerned, well sleep is over rated ...or that's what I tell myself..lol Lesson six: PEE, SHOWER, EAT BE MERRY..OH AND GET SOME SLEEP.
If anyone reading this thinks that mat leave is a "vacation" well think again. It's a full time job that never stops. 24/7 no breaks no weekend and no sympathy. It's stressful and hard work raising a little monkey but no matter how tired and overworked you are, you get so see them grow and smile and it makes it all worth it...I mean look at this face!!!!
Still though, when people tell you about needing to decompress, you can't help but want to tell them to suck it...especially if you have not had a date with sleep for a while. Lesson six: BEING A MOTHER IS THE HARDEST JOB IN THE WORLD...NOW GET SOME SLEEP...RIGHT AFTER YOU THANK YOUR MOM. note to self: ask baby if he can teach you his Kung Fu ways so you can respond to these "needs of decompression" appropriately.
Funny thing is I'm sure someone if not multiple people told us all of this before this little guys was even a dream in our lives but one can never come even close to understanding what it's like until you go through it. Also Gentlemen, the next time you want to complain as I've heard so many of you do, about your wife being bitchy, the house being messy, you being stressed and in need of a night out etc...well, suck it. Better yet, instead of sucking it, stay home with the baby for one day then lets see how you feel ;)
These are the Lessons that I've learned in parenting. In summery, I know nothing, baby knows kung fu and man I need some sleep!
Cheers,
Tash ;)
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
What it's really like to be pregnant - the home stretch is all about stretching one's patience
AHHHH the home stretch. It's what every pregnant woman waits for in anticipation of the safe arrival of the little monkey that spends nearly 10 months, oh yes it's almost 10, moving, rolling and kicking around in your belly. This is the point when the cute belly has turned into a giant medicine ball that seems to grow heavier by the second. The point where no matter how much you embrace motherhood and pregnancy, you no longer want any photo's of you taken, or displayed under any circumstance. Yet people not realizing that the mere image of yourself frightens you may from time to time decide to "surprise" you with so called candid pics that they think are so adorable. As always I'm here to tell you the truth about our psychological state at this point in the game and the possible risk you are taking by speaking to, breathing near or taking photos of a woman in her last month of growing a human being.
Often we hear about cranky pregnant women. I've actually been lucky enough, as have those around me, to not be very cranky or moody.....up until now. What I'm about to tell you is the truth about why we are cranky at any point.
You see, pregnancy is different for everyone. Some get morning sickness, some don't. Some get bloated some don't. Ultimately no matter what the process looks like for any of us, there are certainly some commonalities for all of us. We are growing a whole person and that comes with anxiety, lack of booze, limitations to what we can and can not eat, people telling you you're wrong about pretty much everything you do no matter what it is, people telling you what you should do because they know best (you don't exercise enough/ you are over doing it, your diet sucks, oh you worry too much, oh a glass of wine wont hurt/ don't even think about wine etc etc.), being asked repeatedly what the name of the child is even though you have tried to tell them to wait and find out and to top it off you experience foot pain, back pain, hip pain, pelvic pain, Braxton hicks, swollen everything and pretty much any sort of pain and discomfort that can only be considered a form of torture as it only gets worse every day. Its gets even more special when you have parts of you touching each other that never did before and that really should not be touching. like your boobs and your big belly which have practically become one united nation of big stuff in the front, your thighs that can no longer be pluralized and rightfully referred to as thigh and to boot you're peeing like its going out of style and seriously considering diapers as a possible solution. It unfortunately doesn't end there, If you're unlucky enough to get diagnosed with some condition like GD, you now also have Doctors telling you you need to "prioritize" your child by taking frequent snack breaks and go for walks after meals etc. and not put work first. To that I say "Oh why thanks Doc! I'm clearly an asshole I don't know why I didn't think of just putting everything on hold because that's easy! I'll just quit my job and go for walks!" You see where I'm going with all this?! If you thinking that I sound a bit pissy, you're right I am pissy. Wouldn't you be if you were in pain everyday?being told you're wrong no matter what you do constantly and having people tell you what you should be doing like you are suddenly dumb as a door knob? Yes yes feel guilty go ahead! I do! I've surely done the same thing to my friends when they were pregnant and I apologize. I'm grateful you ladies were kind enough to not whoop me ass right then and there. So I guess what I'm trying to tell you my dear reader is that the next time you run into a pregnant friend or stranger that is not in the best mood don't make judgments, don't express your opinions and just appreciate the fact that this possibly is one of the hardest things anyone can ever do in their life time. As much as meeting this little miracle growing in my belly is the most anticipated beautiful thing ever, I also know that I'm still not done. There's more pain and learning curves and a lost sense of self to come as we embrace and learn to be parents. It's frightening and exciting and though logically we understand your opinions, thoughts, excitement and photo sharing is not meant to be a negative thing, I will be the one to warn you that we the prego's are only seconds away from losing it one you at any time. So be ware and please do not make any sudden movements as you may just be the unlucky sucker that pays for everyone else's need to share. The next time I tell you I did yoga, ate dog food, threw up on myself, blamed you for making the sun go down too quickly, yelled at you for feeling too hot or anything else that is just not logical, just stand still and don't make eye contact. If you feel the situation escalating, don't RUN! It's for your own good we're like bears if you run it only aggravate us and we may try and mull you...mind you the extra weight does slow us down so nix that, RUN!!
Often we hear about cranky pregnant women. I've actually been lucky enough, as have those around me, to not be very cranky or moody.....up until now. What I'm about to tell you is the truth about why we are cranky at any point.
You see, pregnancy is different for everyone. Some get morning sickness, some don't. Some get bloated some don't. Ultimately no matter what the process looks like for any of us, there are certainly some commonalities for all of us. We are growing a whole person and that comes with anxiety, lack of booze, limitations to what we can and can not eat, people telling you you're wrong about pretty much everything you do no matter what it is, people telling you what you should do because they know best (you don't exercise enough/ you are over doing it, your diet sucks, oh you worry too much, oh a glass of wine wont hurt/ don't even think about wine etc etc.), being asked repeatedly what the name of the child is even though you have tried to tell them to wait and find out and to top it off you experience foot pain, back pain, hip pain, pelvic pain, Braxton hicks, swollen everything and pretty much any sort of pain and discomfort that can only be considered a form of torture as it only gets worse every day. Its gets even more special when you have parts of you touching each other that never did before and that really should not be touching. like your boobs and your big belly which have practically become one united nation of big stuff in the front, your thighs that can no longer be pluralized and rightfully referred to as thigh and to boot you're peeing like its going out of style and seriously considering diapers as a possible solution. It unfortunately doesn't end there, If you're unlucky enough to get diagnosed with some condition like GD, you now also have Doctors telling you you need to "prioritize" your child by taking frequent snack breaks and go for walks after meals etc. and not put work first. To that I say "Oh why thanks Doc! I'm clearly an asshole I don't know why I didn't think of just putting everything on hold because that's easy! I'll just quit my job and go for walks!" You see where I'm going with all this?! If you thinking that I sound a bit pissy, you're right I am pissy. Wouldn't you be if you were in pain everyday?being told you're wrong no matter what you do constantly and having people tell you what you should be doing like you are suddenly dumb as a door knob? Yes yes feel guilty go ahead! I do! I've surely done the same thing to my friends when they were pregnant and I apologize. I'm grateful you ladies were kind enough to not whoop me ass right then and there. So I guess what I'm trying to tell you my dear reader is that the next time you run into a pregnant friend or stranger that is not in the best mood don't make judgments, don't express your opinions and just appreciate the fact that this possibly is one of the hardest things anyone can ever do in their life time. As much as meeting this little miracle growing in my belly is the most anticipated beautiful thing ever, I also know that I'm still not done. There's more pain and learning curves and a lost sense of self to come as we embrace and learn to be parents. It's frightening and exciting and though logically we understand your opinions, thoughts, excitement and photo sharing is not meant to be a negative thing, I will be the one to warn you that we the prego's are only seconds away from losing it one you at any time. So be ware and please do not make any sudden movements as you may just be the unlucky sucker that pays for everyone else's need to share. The next time I tell you I did yoga, ate dog food, threw up on myself, blamed you for making the sun go down too quickly, yelled at you for feeling too hot or anything else that is just not logical, just stand still and don't make eye contact. If you feel the situation escalating, don't RUN! It's for your own good we're like bears if you run it only aggravate us and we may try and mull you...mind you the extra weight does slow us down so nix that, RUN!!
Friday, June 21, 2013
What it's really like to be pregnant: The dirty looks and speed racers
Hello my lovely readers! Happy summer solace to you all. Today's post is for my currently and previously prego sisters out there who have experienced the speed racers and dirty looks...who am I kidding it's for the rest of you too who can use a chuckle at the end of a long work week to kick off your weekend right.
As I've mentioned in a few of my posts before, pregnancy comes with lots of fun wobbling, struggles of sitting up, getting up out of bed and the magic act of your feet disappearing. So you can imagine we the pregos of the world, minus the crazy marathon running champs out there, aren't exactly the speediest individuals of the bunch. As you can imagine the extra weight does keep us down and hey by the time you get to the end of the pregnancy, a foot massage is truly a gift from the gods as is any opportunity to sit your bum down especially on the bus, subway or street cars. Unfortunately being in this state has been a sad realization for many of the fabulous mothers I know out there where people will avoid eye contact and outright ignore you being in need of a seat in exchange for their own comfort. This of course doesn't just apply to us, it applies to the elderly and disabled as well. It's sad it what it is. I have to say though, I have been very fortunate to cross paths with many of the kinder individuals in this crazy city who are quick to give up their seats no matter how tired they look when they see me standing there and I'm always so grateful to them for it regardless of whether I accept the kind offer or not. It shows that kindness does still exist. So at this point you may be wondering "well what's with the post then?!". Well I'm getting to it.
As many of you may be aware I am one of the lucky individuals out there who is able to work out of my home office which is especially convenient when I need the extra snooze time. I do go into the office to get some face to face interaction from time to time to relieve my cabin fever and these tend to me my awesome days of social observation as well. Yesterday was one of these days. I arrived at the street car stop and when it arrived I started to wobble my way over to the door to hopefully get a seat. All was well (picture little turtle happy to be running a race) until a woman practically pushed me over in a race to the last seat on the street car.
Needless to say she beat me and avoided eye contact when I climbed my way up yet looked very pleased with herself for her achievement. I think I should have been upset or annoyed by her actions but truthfully I had to hold back hysterical laughter. This "big stupid" was taking pride in beating a very pregnant woman to a seat! That's like being proud of yourself for beating the Elephant lady from Who Wants to be a Millionaire in an IQ test for God's sakes!!
I didn't say anything of course and I stood there in this busy street car when suddenly this young boy sprung out his seat so genuinely apologetic that he had not noticed I was standing and proceeded to give up his seat. I declined but thanked him. It made me smile that there are parents out there that are teaching their kids kindness so they don't grow up to be like speed racer on the other side of me. I will make sure to teach my child good manners so they will be just like that kind boy that put a smile on my face.
Now on to the dirty looks. When pregnant, any sane and caring woman will give up her love of intoxicated indulgences like drinking and smoking. Sometimes even high heals, but believe me this last one is not by choice. We do not however, force all those around us to do the same. Which means we may occasionally go out to purchase booze or cigarettes for friends or spouses and heck even sit down in a bar and grab a bite with friends while sipping on a non alcoholic beverage which is still fine even when your baby is with you as long as your not in some crack den damn it!! We are pregnant, we are mothers, we are not dead! The dirty looks that we get however do not reflect this logic.
My husband is still a smoker and I do pick up smokes for him once in a while which gets me stabbing looks of hate unless I go to the corner store where they know it's not for me. Same with the liquor store, I know many of you who have experienced the hateful looks when you walk into the LCBO (funny enough not so much the Beer Store) to purchase booze for events. I know it's frustrating but you have to admit it's sort of funny. They probably are seeing an episode of intervention in their heads where you get home and turn into a belligerent drunk not caring about your baby's health. Have some faith people!! Give me a dirty look if you see me drinking or smoking but don't assume that's what I'm doing and punish me for it. It's not fair for you to judge my purchase the same way it's not fair for me to assume your face had an unfortunate meeting with a wall or an ugly stick causing you to look the way you do when I walk up to the counter. Mind you, I'm feeling bad for your face situation while you're wanting to lash out at me...at least my concern is genuine!
And that boys and girls, is my Friday rant. To end it off, I share with you a picture of some dude who stopped in the middle of a one way street to jump on the hood of his car and danced his little heart out. I took this yesterday while enjoying a mean fish curry dinner with a dear friend of mine on a patio (Oh yea I did) here in the hood. Where do I find these people?!
Happy Friday my lovelies.
Tash
As I've mentioned in a few of my posts before, pregnancy comes with lots of fun wobbling, struggles of sitting up, getting up out of bed and the magic act of your feet disappearing. So you can imagine we the pregos of the world, minus the crazy marathon running champs out there, aren't exactly the speediest individuals of the bunch. As you can imagine the extra weight does keep us down and hey by the time you get to the end of the pregnancy, a foot massage is truly a gift from the gods as is any opportunity to sit your bum down especially on the bus, subway or street cars. Unfortunately being in this state has been a sad realization for many of the fabulous mothers I know out there where people will avoid eye contact and outright ignore you being in need of a seat in exchange for their own comfort. This of course doesn't just apply to us, it applies to the elderly and disabled as well. It's sad it what it is. I have to say though, I have been very fortunate to cross paths with many of the kinder individuals in this crazy city who are quick to give up their seats no matter how tired they look when they see me standing there and I'm always so grateful to them for it regardless of whether I accept the kind offer or not. It shows that kindness does still exist. So at this point you may be wondering "well what's with the post then?!". Well I'm getting to it.
As many of you may be aware I am one of the lucky individuals out there who is able to work out of my home office which is especially convenient when I need the extra snooze time. I do go into the office to get some face to face interaction from time to time to relieve my cabin fever and these tend to me my awesome days of social observation as well. Yesterday was one of these days. I arrived at the street car stop and when it arrived I started to wobble my way over to the door to hopefully get a seat. All was well (picture little turtle happy to be running a race) until a woman practically pushed me over in a race to the last seat on the street car.
Needless to say she beat me and avoided eye contact when I climbed my way up yet looked very pleased with herself for her achievement. I think I should have been upset or annoyed by her actions but truthfully I had to hold back hysterical laughter. This "big stupid" was taking pride in beating a very pregnant woman to a seat! That's like being proud of yourself for beating the Elephant lady from Who Wants to be a Millionaire in an IQ test for God's sakes!!
I didn't say anything of course and I stood there in this busy street car when suddenly this young boy sprung out his seat so genuinely apologetic that he had not noticed I was standing and proceeded to give up his seat. I declined but thanked him. It made me smile that there are parents out there that are teaching their kids kindness so they don't grow up to be like speed racer on the other side of me. I will make sure to teach my child good manners so they will be just like that kind boy that put a smile on my face.
Now on to the dirty looks. When pregnant, any sane and caring woman will give up her love of intoxicated indulgences like drinking and smoking. Sometimes even high heals, but believe me this last one is not by choice. We do not however, force all those around us to do the same. Which means we may occasionally go out to purchase booze or cigarettes for friends or spouses and heck even sit down in a bar and grab a bite with friends while sipping on a non alcoholic beverage which is still fine even when your baby is with you as long as your not in some crack den damn it!! We are pregnant, we are mothers, we are not dead! The dirty looks that we get however do not reflect this logic.
My husband is still a smoker and I do pick up smokes for him once in a while which gets me stabbing looks of hate unless I go to the corner store where they know it's not for me. Same with the liquor store, I know many of you who have experienced the hateful looks when you walk into the LCBO (funny enough not so much the Beer Store) to purchase booze for events. I know it's frustrating but you have to admit it's sort of funny. They probably are seeing an episode of intervention in their heads where you get home and turn into a belligerent drunk not caring about your baby's health. Have some faith people!! Give me a dirty look if you see me drinking or smoking but don't assume that's what I'm doing and punish me for it. It's not fair for you to judge my purchase the same way it's not fair for me to assume your face had an unfortunate meeting with a wall or an ugly stick causing you to look the way you do when I walk up to the counter. Mind you, I'm feeling bad for your face situation while you're wanting to lash out at me...at least my concern is genuine!
And that boys and girls, is my Friday rant. To end it off, I share with you a picture of some dude who stopped in the middle of a one way street to jump on the hood of his car and danced his little heart out. I took this yesterday while enjoying a mean fish curry dinner with a dear friend of mine on a patio (Oh yea I did) here in the hood. Where do I find these people?!
Happy Friday my lovelies.
Tash
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