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This is appearing about an hour and 37 minutes late. But it wasn't my fault, my computer wasn't connecting to the internet. Peter fixed it.
Date night went well. I only cried a little as we were driving away and a little again when my dad called me 10 minutes before we got home asking how long we'd be because Bella was refusing to take a bottle and was crying. Other than that, she did fine, and so did I. Next time I'll try a movie. Dinner was delicious, the appies were incredible, the mains were good, but the sides were totally uninspired. What can you do? We had a great time either way.
As for the bottle, we tried it again today and it worked like a charm, so who knows what that was about.
Anyway, it's nearly 2am and I'm going Christmas shopping tomorrow with Robyn. And I'm supposed to put up a link to her blog. And tell people to comment. She should keep blogging. So there you go. Go comment on Robyn's blog.
Peter and I are going on a date tonight. Alone. I am up at 8:30 stressing about it already. My mom and dad are going to watch Bella.
The plan was to go to dinner and a movie, but that would have worked out to about three and a half hours, and I just don't think I can do it. I didn't say this to Peter, just sat in the car trying not to hyperventilate. He mentioned that he actually liked my original plan, which included reservations at a really nice restaurant in Cedar but no movie. I don't know why we deviated from the first plan anyway, it's been causing me endless stress, thinking about being away from Bella for nearly four hours. He asked if we could just do what I had planned first, and I nearly fainted with relief.
The restaurant is in Cedar, so it's a half hour from here, and dinner will take about an hour and a half, so we're still looking at almost three hours, but that's not too bad. I can do that. I just didn't think I could do four.
Here's the scoop. I know all moms stress about this the first time. It's always hard. I've been away from her for two hours while Peter's home with her, and I am fine. And both of us were away from her for nearly three hours once before, and I think my problem lies there. She was having her MRI. It happened on the worst day of my life, and they told me when she went into the MRI that she'd be about a half hour. I remember every moment of those two extra hours. And when I got to see her again she wasn't fine. She'd been poked six times before they'd gotten her IV in. I can't imagine how she must have cried, and I wasn't there for her. I couldn't be.
I know this isn't the same. I know if she's really upset, my mom can call me, and I'll rush home to her. I know she won't actually even get really upset. She's so good, and so happy. She knows and loves my mom, was smiling for her like crazy last night. She'll be in her own environment. I know she'll be okay, and I know the longer I put this off the harder it will be. So we're going to go.
I'll let you know tonight how it went.
Last night we had Thanksgiving. My hen turned out okay, since I realized that my fig preserves were moldy and I had to wing it (no pun intended) with something else. My hen had a neck when I unwrapped it. I nearly threw it away, but composed myself and called Peter in to deal with it. I am no Julia Child, I'll tell you that. Once the hen was de-necked (okay that "word" makes me nauseated), I crammed some onion and garlic inside it and made a glaze on the stove top of some orange tangerine juice I had in the fridge, some white wine, and a bunch of maple syrup. It turned out okay. Guinea hen tastes remarkably like chicken. So much so that you wonder why you spent 13 bucks on a little chicken when a whole one is only 8. 10 if you want them to rotisserie it for you. I could have done that, and brushed it with maple syrup and that would have been it. And saved myself three bucks. We used to have guinea hens that lived outside our first house. They are horrifically noisy, they sound like a child screaming while being shaken violently. The first time I heard it, I rushed outside, certain something terrible was transpiring in my backyard. Eating one felt good on that level, I don't mind telling you. Ha ha! Revenge is mine, you noisy freak of nature.
Anyway, not at all the point of this post. Dinner came out okay. We also tried celeriac (ugliest piece of produce you can buy, I think) and they're tasty. And I cooked turnips for the first time, and they were also yummy. My stuffing was the best, I think. Want a good stuffing recipe? Take a box of stove top turkey stuffing, and add to it a cup of celery, about three or four cups of mixed mushrooms (spring for shitakes, they're delicious) and about a cup and a half of dried cranberries, and a half a small onion diced small. Instead of water, add about a cup of chicken stock, and a cup of white wine. Or more, or less, depending on how moist you want it. Toss it in the oven for an hour. It was pretty spectacular, and I don't like stove top stuffing.
Also not the point of this post.
Bella did so great last night while I was getting stuff ready. Slept on her own, not a care in the world. Two minutes before Peter came home, when I was filling water glasses and lighting candles, she started to cry. So in walks Peter to see his frazzled wife, a mess in a pair of pants with who knows what spilled on them, maybe sauce, maybe spit up. His baby is looking adorable in her happy thanksgiving shirt and screaming. He smiles, looks at the beautiful spread of food, and goes to sit down. He says grace and Bella screams along and I'm trying to hold her and calm her down while we have a nice quiet meal. No doing. I move to the rocking chair with her, and she starts to quiet. But my food is getting cold so Peter tries to move it near me and spills about a quarter of a bottle of wine, all over my plate, floods it totally, and all over his pants and the floor. He gets up, runs to change, and mop up the floor before we totally ruin our throw rug. He's mad the way only Peter can be at himself when he does something that he thinks is stupid and embarrassing. It makes me laugh a little, but I'm trying not to. By the time Bella is done crying, and the floor is clean, our food is stone cold. We heat it up in the microwave and turn on the football game and drink our wine. I made it just past halftime before I fell asleep nursing Bella with my shirt half off. Peter let me sleep.
Somewhere in there, I remembered another feast I made for him for his Thanksgiving. I remembered how beautiful everything looked, and the candlelight, and sitting at the table together with the fireplace on. I had brushed my hair and had some make up on. Wait, I bet I have a picture.
But all I kept thinking was that I wouldn't trade that for this. I kept thinking that we were right in the middle of a memory that one day we would talk about at pretty Thanksgiving tables with my makeup and my shirt on. We would eat warm food from the oven instead of the microwave and nobody would spill the expensive wine we'd splurged on and we'd laugh about the first Thanksgiving I tried to do with Bella. How tired we were that Peter spilled the wine and stormed around and I held Bella and tried to eat while simultaneously rocking a baby, dripping sauce over us both. It just seemed like one of those moments you know? That one day I would miss this mess and chaos and confusion while we figure out this mom and dad thing. That as I get better at this, I'm going to miss this part. I don't know, now it's not coming out right.
Either way, Thanksgiving was memorable and lovely. Wish me luck with Christmas.
Food makes me happy. Not just eating it, though that's lovely too. I love an excuse to try cooking something new. And loved having a reason to go to Whole Foods again yesterday. Today is American Thanksgiving. And, as I am married to an American, we do the feast twice a year. Since we had the big traditional feast on our Thanksgiving, I try and make his a little different, while not deviating too far from what should be on the table on Thanksgiving day.
Tonight's Menu:
Appetizer: Mini Crab Cake on a Bed of Spring Greens, Chipotle Garlic Aoli
Main: Roasted Guinea Hen with Fig Balsamic Glaze
Wild Mushroom and Cranberry Stuffing Autumn Baby Ravioli in a White Wine Butter Sauce
Medley of Spiced Roasted Root Vegetables
Dessert: Pumpkin Pie with Spiced Vanilla Whipped Cream and Spiked Egg Nog Hot Chocolate
All served of course, with a very nice bottle of red wine. And before you think me too ambitious, I'm doing it all without a babysitter for Bella. But I'm totally buying the pie, and you'll notice the word "roasted" a couple of times there. This menu was planned hoping that all I'll have to do with Bella is the pasta. Everything else will be prepped this afternoon while Peter is at home, and then tossed in the oven at the appropriate times. But according to my modified recipe, I need to baste that stupid hen every ten minutes. That should be a good time. Thank goodness for my infant carrier. I made soup the other night with Bella tucked into it. She was pretty okay with that, though she doesn't much like doing the dishes. Can't say I blame her. I'm getting nervous thinking about it. Wish me luck. If we can't carry it off, or I burn that hen, I'm calling for pizza and wings and we're watching football.
I don't get my Christmas wish.
They lengthened the amount of time we're spending weaning Bella off the steroids. They added four more weeks. Double what I thought I had left.
That's four more weeks of stomach ache, the absence of hope for more than three hours sleep at a time, three more necessary medications and a mild case of thrush.
I'm tired. And disappointed.
I should just leave it at that. That has been my day so far.
It is 5:10pm. I am in my jammies. I have played most of World Three in Mario, and have been writing thank you notes from Bella's multiple baby showers and Christmas cards the rest of the time. And of course, nursing Bella, "fighting" with Peter about the heat being turned down (I'm a little funny about Bella getting cold, or anything close to it), and changing diapers.
Here's another selfish confession. I am truly very thankful for every gift we've got, and I love being able to tell people that. BUT, I love the stationary aspect of the "thank-you note". But if I wasn't a freak about beautiful paper and pens, I probably wouldn't have sent them. Don't get me wrong, I would have said thank you, and been just as grateful, but I'd have sent you a facebook note, or told you in person. I don't do it because it's the "proper thing to do". I just loved having a good reason to go to Michael's and get the cutest package of cards you've ever seen. Plus, I love an excuse to send, and receive real mail. I love getting anything in the mail that isn't a bill.
Here's the thing though. I don't know why we write down what we get and from whom. Do you really want your card to say, Becky, thank you for the adorable hat and the cute little shirt and bib. Doesn't that sound a bit formulaic? Don't you feel like you've gotten a form letter or something?
Dear (Insert Name Here)
Thank you so much for your gift of (insert correspoding present here). It was very kind of you, and we're so grateful.
Most Sincerely,
(your name here)
I will tell you that I thought of each of you while I wrote your card, and was really thankful, and wrote something individual to you. If you compare your cards, they are not the same. And they are on really cute stationary.
...then the last six months would have sent me straight to hell.
If you have kids, and you're reading this, I need you to do me a favor. Remember when you brought your first baby home from the hospital. Remember leaving with that tiny bundle and thinking, "they're really just going to send me home and see how I do?". Remember how unreal that was? To just take your baby home and get on with your life? And remember the weight of the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same again. Remember the first time you were totally alone with your child? How scary that was? Remember how all you used to do was stare at them when they'd sleep, thinking, "don't you need something?". It's funny how little maintenance the first one really is. Before the hospital and everything I remember thinking, "seriously, I should be doing something shouldn't I?" Stupid me, the answer was to go to sleep. Oh well. Anyway, remember that feeling, and try not to roll your eyes at me during this post. Or go ahead. I'd laugh at me if I were reading it.
Today, I put Bella down for a nap. In her room, in her swing, all by herself. It took me a long time but I closed the door. I used our baby monitor. Then I cleaned out the fridge. I cannot tell you about the fridge. Oh, what the heck, you've been there. There were cabbage rolls from Thanksgiving in there, and guacamole from before then. There were things in that fridge that were older than Bella. It was horrific. I cleaned it out, washed the disgusting dishes that held the offending items and took out the abominable smelling garbage. And when I was done, I checked on Bella. Still sleeping.
So I made the bed. Peter and I will go to sleep in a bed that was made that morning for the first time in probably six months. I didn't make the bed much when I was huge and pregnant. I ran to the kitchen to listen to the monitor. Nothing but the tick-tick-swish of the swing. I went to see if she was alive. She was. So I swept the floor in the kitchen, and then for good measure, the bathroom. Still sleeping. So I did the mirrors, sink, and toilet. I threw in a load of towels. Still sleeping. I took out a load of clothes and folded them. And put them away. In the same half hour period. Folded AND put away. Where they belong! Not just in the bedroom on a chair, but in the drawers. And I swept my floors in the main areas of the house, and in my bedroom.
And she woke up. So I picked her up and walked her into the living room and she looked around like she had no clue where she was anymore. And then smiled at me. And I was so proud of her, of me, and of us that I cried. I can't believe that I cleaned my house while my baby napped. On her own. What an angel. Oh my goodness, there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Today I got to be a wife and a mom. I've never done that before yet. I'm one or the other, and guess which one wins?
I also made a meal plan for the week, and a corresponding grocery list, and once we eat and watch Top Chef, and I feed Bella, I'm going to do errands. All by myself while Bella gets in some snuggle time with her daddy. I know. So laugh if you will, I will do it tomorrow at myself, but today I am simply amazed at myself. With no exaggeration, I am prouder of me today than when I got my high school diploma. When Peter got home for lunch, she was up, fed, medicated and changed. And his house was clean. And his wife was smiling. Unreal.
I mean, where do they get off? Stupid store. They should be housed in a corner of Stupidstore, except their prices are too high.
So by now you've realized you're about to read a ranting post. I went to the mall all excited yesterday with all my store credit everywhere. I had to go to the Children's Place, Babies R Us, and Baby Mexx. I never shop at the regular Mexx simply because I am not that trendy, and do not need to be constantly outfitted in linen. Do they even sell jeans? Anyway. I went to Baby Mexx to return a hat and socks I got. Apparently they were on clearance, so I got $10 off whatever I wanted in the store. I would have liked something for $12-$15. Nothing in that store is that price. Nothing. Maybe a pair of socks, but it seemed like a stupid waste to get a pair of baby socks for ten stinking bucks. But, wait! All of their infant clothes are 40% off! Maybe I can shop at Mexx after all!!
So I got Bella an outfit. With my $10 discount, and 40% off, I still spent almost $30. Can you believe that?! It's infant clothes!!! Made by infants in China! Where does the price come from? The fancy ribbon tag attached not with those plastic thingies, but by actual thread, and a little plastic clip, that also says Mexx? It's not like they're spending a lot of money in the real estate. The store is so tiny you can't flipping move in there. I hate children's stores that don't take into account that the people who shop there are mothers with STROLLERS! Morons. Anyway, where does the money go? I don't know.
But look at her. Could she be any cuter? Is that not the prettiest outfit you've ever seen? It may be, until I post pictures of her from Shawn's wedding (I'm working up to this, I look huge in all of them) and then her Christmas dress. Which I got at Children's place, along with a matching hat and panties, and a pretty pair of fleece pants for the same price. And the dress is to die for. I already have clippies to match. Anyway, this is our first and last outfit from Mexx. Stupid Mexx.
I woke her up to take this. I'm a jerk, and it looks like she may know it.
Look at the cuffs on the little knit pants! And how perfectly her little moccasins match. Seriously, I could also rant about people who treat their kids like accessories, but man, having a little girl is like being a little girl again yourself. Playing dress up and dollies all at once. I adore being her mom for more reasons than all the baby clothes, but it's hard not to love the clothes.
I had to enlist Peter to make her smile. She's such a little Daddy's Girl. Don't you just want to eat her?! Or take her to a little ski chalet and snuggle her in front of a fire? Man. I can't tell you how much I love this little girl.
Oh, and if you haven't had enough, there's another photo on Bella's Blog.
I'm going to do this in the morning, and hopefully save you another super lame post.
Do you know what I love more than most things? Store credit. It makes me exceedingly happy. My work friends threw a baby shower for me and my friend Tiffany the other night (who had the cutest set of red haired twins you've ever looked at, a boy and a girl!) and I got so much stuff! Seriously, if you've sent me a baby gift, I'm ever so grateful, and you'll get a thank-you card as soon as I can write about a hundred of them. I'm working on it, and I also have Christmas cards! Oh yipes, I'm starting to stress out.
Anyway, back to the store credit. I got a couple of things that I actually have doubles of (that's how many gifts we keep getting, we're starting to double up) and so I get to take some back today. I have a beautiful sweater and jeans for the Children's Place, and a matching hat and slippers from Baby Mexx and a gift card for Babies r Us. And the mall is all decorated for Christmas, and Santa will be there. One weekend soon, we need to take Bella for her Santa pictures. I want one of these more than I am afraid of the germs. Hopefully I won't offend Santa if I sanitize my baby right after they're done with their photo.
While I am gone, Peter said he'd put up our Christmas lights. There are two houses on our cul-de-sac that already have them up. Everyone decorated for Halloween as well. I can tell this is going to be a fun place to live. Loads of kids. And cats that poop in my yard, but that's a post for another day. Anyway, Peter offering to put up the lights is a really sweet way of saying he'd rather do hard labor outside in the rain than go shopping with me. Oh well. He's too much of a voice of reason in the baby section anyways. Who needs it? Maybe I'll call my friend Joy and have her come with me, and her husband can help with the lights. They need to come and pick up their Bailey's anyway.
I can't tell you how excited I am for Bella's first Christmas. Can. Not. Wait. I also bought her a little gingerbread house kit, that I plan to decorate exclusively in pink candies. Stop rolling your eyes - it's going to look so stinking cute! With a little sign in the yard that says "Bella's House". I'll post a photo. For thinking the entire time I was pregnant, that I was having a boy, I am absolutely in love with having a daughter. I love all things pink and girlie and frilly. Okay, time to get in some Mario before I have to go the the mall! YAY for Christmas and weekends! Do you think Peter would allow a couple of pink Christmas lights with our white icicle ones? Pink is the new red and green folks. It totally is.
This is about to be a very lame post.
Robyn and Luc are over. Bella is happy. We had shepherds pie for dinner, but I tried to make it with roast beef instead of ground. It was delicious, but texturally, a total failure.
We're going to play Super Mario Bros for my Wii. We can all play at the same time, in the same level. This makes me super happy. Mom came over today, we played all of world one while dad snuggled Bella.
I have a hot chocolate spiked with Bailey's. Joy, if you're reading this, never leave alcohol at my house again. I guess I owe you.
That's all I got, folks.
The craziest thing just happened to me. Maybe much more miraculous than crazy.
I was driving with Bella to my mom's place, and if you're from BC I was between Lantzville and Nanoose, in the left lane. Not because I was going desperately quickly but because I had been at a red light and just sort of ended up there.
If you're not from BC, all you need to know is that I was on a curvy sort of highway and though it's divided, it's divided with a huge cement median. Which is about 12 inches away from your lane. It's super close.
Anyway, I'm driving along, not going slowly, but not really zooming either, since it's pouring rain again. Some stupid 18 wheeler comes up beside me and I get a little nervous, because the other night someone cut me off in the rain and kicked up enough water on my windshield that I was blind for a few seconds, even with my wipers on high. I was terrified of this happening with the semi, especially since I was right next to that huge cement median. He wasn't going much faster than me, so I sped up to get around him. He sped up. All of a sudden I looked down and I was going 110 and he still wasn't letting me by. He had me pinned and there was traffic behind us, so I tapped my brake to slow down to get behind him, and as I did I hit a puddle and started to hydroplane. I swear to you, I felt us heading toward that median, and then all of a sudden we were sliding the other way, toward that stupid semi's wheels. I yelled and I knew we were going under him, I could feel us and I couldn't steer. Out of nowhere, it's like we were bumped and we were still sliding but we were going in a completely straight line. I bet we slid 40-50 feet like this and then I tapped my brake and it held and I got behind him.
I do not know how we didn't die today. Or rather, I do know, and I'm amazed and shaken up. I felt the car being bumped back into place. Oh thank God we're okay. And she didn't even wake up. And now she's starving. Gotta run. Just thought you may want to hear a good miracle story.
My clippies came today. I was going to lay them all out and show them off in a picture, and do another one of Bella wearing one, which looks so adorable on her it could nearly make you cry. I was going to. Then we gave her her medicine a little later in the day, and now it's 11:46 and she's acting stoned. Poor angel. She's jumping from sleeping to wide awake and smiling, to crying and squirming in mere moments. It's psychotic. It would actually be a little bit hilarious if it wasn't so sad.
In other news, Peter is going to Denver in a couple of weeks, for a ski weekend to meet his sister Katie's new beau. He's an Australian surfer/pharmacist who is also a missionary in an orphanage in Bali. He's raising 12 little orphan boys. He is, shall we say, very easy to look at. Even Peter will admit this. His resume reads pretty well, and so we have high hopes, which is why Peter's going to check him out. I'm praying for a destination wedding in Bali. On the beach. I could really do Bali right now.
NOTE: Please stop reading here, if a moment of my selfishness will make me lose any sort of regard you may hold me in.
I want to go too. It's something we would have done before Bella. Something together. Now he's going and I'm staying home with the baby. It's not like she can snowboard. It would be stupid to go and sit in the lodge for a day. It would upset her. She doesn't have a passport. We can't afford it. I'm afraid of all the germs involved in traveling.
Still. I'm going to my mother's for three days, and he's going to Aspen. Next year things would have been different, but he needs to go and be a big brother, and I would have just been an extra anyways, baby or no. I'm really glad he gets to go. He could use to go blow off a little steam in the mountains. He's meeting friends of ours I haven't seen in a year. I would love to see them. We're still going in the spring, and I'll see them then. Still. Nanoose vs Aspen.
It's the getting on a plane and going somewhere I think. That's all it is. I just want to get on a plane and go somewhere. Maybe Bali for a wedding. One can only hope. If this works out, and Peter and the rest of the family approve, and there's a wedding, I will be very happy I sent Peter to Aspen for the weekend. I'm happy anyways...oh blast, I don't know. I just wish I could go somewhere, and I so love Denver. I'm being such a big stupid baby about this, it's actually nauseating to me.
Stoner baby has started to cry. I better go in there before she starts laughing hysterically. Crazy baby. Stupid medicine. Lucky Peter.
Okay, I've finally got a moment - it's first thing in the morning and I've got a coffee and Bella is chattering away to herself and smiling (it's how she begins every single day). Yipes! Is my coffee gone already? Give me one sec.
Ahh, much better.
First. I actually need one of these. I have too many doctors appointments to keep track of, and now that I'm not working I barely remember what day it is, let alone that I need to be somewhere at a certain time and date. I'd like one of these a lot. But this one is expensive. I'd be happy with this one instead. Plus I can put a photo in it. Nice. If I could have any one I wanted, I'd get a Kate Spade one. But who are we kidding? I'm not that trendy. Moving on.
I'd really like this also, and it's not too expensive! I love this movie. Love everything about it. Perfect gift for a person on a budget. My face will light up, I'll watch it again and again, and one only has to spend $15.
This would be nice also. Or just a gift certificate to Michael's. I'd be great with that as well. I want to keep crocheting, and once Bella's blanket is done I'm going to be all out of pretty yarn. This is a great idea for Peter, since when I'm doing it, I actually stay awake in front of the TV!
Well, it's my wish list isn't it? I've wanted a pair of these for AGES. My 5th anniversary is coming up though, maybe I could get them then? I'm not ever thinking that they'll be under the tree, but a girl can dream can't she? And diamonds don't care if you are still carrying your baby weight. Or your "crap-I-got-fat-on-holidays-and-then-had-Christmas" weight. Whatever, it's my wish list and I want them. They're beautiful and make me smile.
You know what else doesn't care if you're fat? Purses and shoes. Oh, I love accessories. Not shoes as much, but purses and scarves and the above mentioned earrings. If you want to get me a handbag, this site will work. So will this one. Oh, and Kate Spade does those too, and I don't care if I'm trendy or not, I'd haul one of those around. Especially this one. Oh my gosh, I'm salivating right now over that bag. Oh my, oh my, oh my. But no, if we're being honest, this will do just fine. Man, I could do a post just about purses.
This. I need this one. I'm getting to the point of not using my Lavender Vanilla Sleep Therapy lotions and scrubs. Because I'm going to run out, and then I'll be sad that they're gone. I want this. Anything from this site will work, even if I'm still fighting with them because they took away my favorite scent. I like this one a whole heck of a lot though. And speaking of lavender: 
I love this store. I went there last year while in Denver. I spent quite a bit of money but got some really lovely things. One of which was a jar of real lavender. I put it in hot chocolate and it was blissful. I put it in jasmine tea, and it's even better. I made Robyn make me some lemon shortbread with it, and they were really good also. Plus I'm out of my spiced vanilla sugar, and I need that. I may shop here later today. Blast. Don't leave me at home alone with the credit card. I'm bad news.
Okay, Bella is fussing now, and it's time for her morning nap. Despite every effort to the contrary, she does have a bit of a schedule, and 10am is nap time. Holy, it took me this long to do all this? Must have been the handbags. I need to gaze at that Kate Spade bag just one more time.
I think this once-a-day-posting would go better if I stopped trying to do it at 11:30 at night. I'm boring myself. This week I'm going to do my Christmas list, but I want to do it justice, and I just don't have the time right now.
So I'm going to do a couple of truths about me, since everyone else was doing that one too - although, Kathy, if you're reading this, I'm still disappointed with yours. I need a secret, I want to find out something new about you. This means I need to share something new about me, I suppose:
I have an incredible mind for numbers. Not mathematics, please don't get confused. I can tell you hundreds of numbers off the top of my head, and I find them very easy to memorize. Since Bella has been born, I can tell you by heart, her care card number, the phone numbers for both of her pediatricians, the pharmacy, the travel assistance line I need to call when filling out my ferry forms, the identification numbers of both her referring and attending physicians. I know my phone numbers from when I was a kid, and given how many times I've moved, that's a lot of phone numbers. I know my library card number by heart. It's weird, they just stick in there. I'm a little bit the same way with song lyrics, but can't ever remember the artist. Ever.
I hate, passionately, my post-pregnancy body. I don't look like me anymore, and with everything else that's going on, it's exhausting to think about diet and trying to fit in some sort of exercise regimen. In no way do I blame Bella for this, and if you had asked me a year ago, when we were trying and it wasn't happening if I wanted to forfeit the way I looked for a baby, I would have taken it in an instant, no hesitation. It's not like I was so smoking hot before. She was absolutely worth it. And I know it's only been just under three months. I know. I happened to get pregnant at my heaviest weight ever, so even though most of the baby weight is gone, I still don't like what's in the mirror. Being a mom makes me feel like the least sexy thing on the planet sometimes. Sexy like tube socks and flannel jammies and unshaven legs. I feel like after being a mom, I have no energy left for being anything else. Not a wife, not a very great friend or daughter or sister. I don't journal, I don't do almost anything that doesn't revolve around Bella. And I love her, I love being her mom more than I love anything else about me, but I would like to have a clean house, smooth shaved legs, a coffee and my journal with my music on and take a minute to myself. I don't do that ever anymore. I got a $75 gift certificate to a very beautiful spa nearby, and Peter even said he'd top it up for me so I could get a few things done, and I have no clue whatsoever when I'll use it. I know it'll get better, and easier, and I'll work a little harder to lose the extra 30 pounds I'm now lugging around, but I wish that day was tomorrow. I don't want to hear that I need to take some "me time". I need to get past the doctors and medication and exhaustion to where me time is even the most remote of options. Then, I could leave Bella alone for a day with no guilt or separation anxiety and go to the spa. I could really, really use a makeover. I feel a little like that woman in the commercials, all overweight and frumpy and going to the lost and found looking for herself. Have you seen me? I used to be funny and silly and not so worried. I used to look hot in a cocktail dress. And this conveyor belt rolls out and she finds herself and rushes up to give herself a big hug? I could use to find that lost and found.
Well, there you have it. Nothing too earth shattering, but two truths is all I have the energy for tonight.
Shawn got married today. It was lovely. The ceremony was beautiful, the bride cried coming down the aisle, Shawn was beaming and told her "this is the best day of my whole life". Which was pretty stinking sweet.
Bella looked so cute you could have eaten her right up. I wanted to nibble on her she was so completely adorable. She also giggled for the first time tonight, we're pretty sure. She did it to herself and we all looked at each other like, "did she just laugh?" I didn't hear it well enough to know with certainty.
But I'm not going to lie, the highlight for me had to be watching Carrie and Carlie dance. Carrie, you're my hero.
Goodnight.
I'm telling you right now, I'm only posting because of this once a day thing. Today we found my mom something to wear for Shawn's wedding tomorrow, and dealt with a lot of other drama, that really doesn't involve me, but made for a great distraction.
I met my new pharmacist and he was so nice to me I nearly cried. He told me that if Bella is having trouble with her meds, that he'll make them different flavors until we find one she can stand. For now, they're tutti-frutti because that was always his kids favorite, even when they were as little as she is. He gave me his work schedule and his card with his number and told me to call anytime I ever have a worry or concern. He made up Bella's medicine in an hour. It's taken four hours before at BCCH, though, granted, they deal with a much higher volume of people.
I'm excited to see how Bella looks tomorrow, she's going to be the cutest thing ever. Tonight I'm sitting at my mom's and we're trying on nail polish and dresses and wraps. I'm not because well, I just had a baby and I'm fat and frumpy - and I challenge anyone to find worse Braun fingernails than I have. I'm going to buy stick on thingys at Shoppers tomorrow, and wear closed toed shoes and nylons with control tops and thighs, and hopefully everyone will look at my baby and not notice me at all. That would be fine by me. I wish my clippies had arrived in time, but I wasn't really counting on it, so I bought her a little beret. Of course I did.
In other news (STOP READING NOW IF YOU'RE MALE AND DO NOT CONTINUE FURTHER) I got my period today. Bella is only two and a half months old. I only stopped bleeding from having her three weeks ago. This bites. I'm so stinking mad I could spit. Oh well. To make all you women who have had babies laugh, I shall share a funny story about my Peter.
I was bemoaning the state of my once-perfect-perky breasts and how saggy they have become and what a nice distant memory my breasts became. Peter encouragingly said to me, "honey, don't worry so much. When you're done nursing, they'll bounce back a little". Now I'm alarmed. He obviously understands nothing of female anatomy after childbirth, and I was sure I had prepared him better. I say, "Babe, this is what my breasts look like full of milk. They are going to lose that milk, and then they're going to look even worse. I wonder how long I can legitimately breast-feed Bella for without causing any psychological damage?" He returns with, "Melanie (insert "tone" here), I have known women with four kids and their breasts looked just fine" (Insert "so there" pause here).
And me, "Yes darling, but did you see them with their bras OFF?"
Silence. Poor Peter, some things you just can't prepare a guy for.
The doctor said I'm allowed to go to Shawn's wedding. I can't let anyone who is sick touch Bella, but he said that she should be fine, and that she needs to be out with healthy people and not to let myself become housebound. So yay, she gets to wear her dress. Photos to come early next week.
This morning I got up and saw to my dismay, Bella's beta-blocker sitting on the counter. It's supposed to be refrigerated. I had left it out for 11 hours. I called the pharmacy, left a message and told them to call me back, but in the meantime, gave her her dose of medicine.
Went to the doctors office, was told we could go out and headed straight for Grandma. It was nice, I had coffee with Grandma, Auntie Margaret and my mom, and then mom had to go, and as I was getting ready to leave the pharmacy called back. They didn't know if the medication, when left out just became ineffective, or if it actually went bad and became toxic. "Don't give her any more" they told me. I asked how I could find out, and they told me they didn't know. I freaked out, called my doctor here and asked if there was some way I could find out if I'd just poisoned my baby. The nurses there were very nice, and made a bunch of phone calls and kept me on hold. In the meantime I found out that nobody in Nanaimo will make the drug within two days. She can't go that long, so I'm trying to figure out how to get to Vancouver to get more medicine. The nurse at the doctors office finally figures out that the medication is not toxic, and goes to the trouble of finding a pharmacist that will make my medication in Nanaimo, and gives me his name and phone number, tells me to give her the stuff I have until I can get more tomorrow.
Thank God. Another 45 minutes of terror. I thought I'd screwed up and poisoned her. I kept saying, "how could I be so stupid" and finally fell apart in Auntie Margaret's kitchen while Grandma walked Bella around and calmed her down. She doesn't do very well when I'm stressed out. Auntie Margaret hugged me and cried because she felt so sorry for me. Goodness. I'm glad I wasn't alone when I got those calls.
All in all, that was my day. I'm at home with Peter and Bella and our good friend Loren and a good glass of wine, and so things are looking up.
I have too many things in the air and I figured dropping a few, like my housework and shaving my legs, wasn't so bad. But I can't drop some of these. Some of it I have to do just right. I can't screw up, and honestly, I've been a mom for a grand total of 75 days. When it all comes down to it, I have no clue what I'm doing. I'm wading through it as best I can, and I'm scared and my word, I'm so stinking tired. I know it's going to get better, but it's amazing how close I live to the edge of having a complete breakdown. I just fell apart today. Now I'm okay, but I wonder how close I am, what minor crisis can send me back there. I'm tired. She's perfect and amazing and I wouldn't trade one second with her for anyone else's life, not for a moment, but oh my goodness. I'm so tired. The worry is more exhausting than the sleep deprivation by about a hundred times. But both? Both is too much.
What dumb pharmacist says they don't know if I've poisoned my baby, and can't find out for me!?!?! Seriously, you go to school for endless amounts of time. C'mon now.
So since Peter works for Shaw Cable, we literally get every channel known to man. They say if he had to pay for it, it would be over$300 a month. It's exhausting. I wish I could pick 20 channels. I'd be fine. I don't need 200. I like getting things in HD, but Peter is always walking by and switching my channel from regular TLC to HD TLC. Seriously, I'm watching "Say Yes to the Dress" - who cares if it's HD or not? Honestly, most times, unless I'm watching an action flick or a football game, I can't tell the difference. Saying this is the only way to get Peter to look like he's sorry he married me. It's good times. Watching football in HD is life changing though, I don't know how we lived without it from September to February.
You'd think it'd be great never wondering what you're missing on those channels you don't get with your bundle. Would you like to know? Here goes: a list of shows that are on at any given time, providing you have enough channels.
Friends - obviously. I don't think you have to have very many channels to be able to watch Friends 24 hours a day.
CSI (wherever) - I like Miami the best, because I like Horatio, reminds me of my father in law. I never watch though, most times it just depresses me.
Dog the Bounty Hunter - I hate this show. I know it's got a good following, but I honestly couldn't care any less. He's a schmuck, and annoying like crazy and she's worse.
Hitler Documentaries - we got really into this for a while. I love anything related to WWII. Fascinating, but it's run it's course.
Oprah - because what if you don't get off work until 5 and by then it's over? Done with Oprah, but I wish I had watched when Ellen was on.
House Hunters - or any of it's spin offs, like "House Hunters International (love it) My First Place, For Rent, Property Virgins, and a bunch more I can't think of right now. If I can't find anything to watch but the above mentioned, I'll usually have it on TLC. If Food Network is showing, say, Jamie Oliver or Gordon Ramsay, both of whom I harbor a strong dislike for. Anyway, House Hunters is literally on 6 times a day. Who knew?
Tonight I got to watch the CMA's while Glee was taping. Taylor Swift won entertainer of the year and cried like a little girl, because well, she's 19 and she is. I love her - made my whole night. She also took home female vocalist of the year and thanked "every person in this room for not walking up on stage and interrupting me". There was a lot of fun at Kanye's expense tonight, which was good times. I love any awards show of any kind. Guilty pleasure I guess.
In good news, tomorrow I'm going to the doctor with Bella to get the low-down on how house bound I need to be, so maybe I'll have something to write about other than TV. Gosh I'm so lame it's exhausting even to me.
I hate Superstore. I've blogged about this a long time ago, but if I'm going to do a blog a month you're going to get something of a re-run here eventually. I don't have 30 original ideas.
I hate that you need a dollar for a cart. I never have a dollar. Don't tell me to keep it in my car, I'll spend it on a coffee every last time. There's a contraption you can buy for your key ring, but I hate spending the dollar. I'm not spending more money to have the dollar.
I hate the colors of it, and the warehouse feel of it. I'm always freezing cold in there and all that yellow stresses me out.
I hate that it's so stupidly laid out. If I want diapers, coffee, meat and bread, I have at least three miles of walking to do, which wouldn't do me harm, but that's just not the point. And it's fine that it's big, it's just that if you want cheese and bread, they're at least 200 yards from each other. If you want to run in for a rotisserie chicken, and a loaf of bread, they're nowhere near each other.
I hate paying for bags. I wish they'd raise their prices two cents on every last thing and leave the dang bags alone. I hate bagging my groceries and feeling rushed when I don't go fast enough, because I'm trying to grab my debit card, and my baby is crying and some dumb woman is trying to make me figure out how many bags I'll need.
BUT ALAS:
I love, with all my heart, their clothing section - especially the kids stuff. Tonight I got Bella two hats, a pair of mittens and a sleeper, all of it easily as cute as the stuff you get at Baby Gap. I didn't shop the sale rack at all, and it was all less than thirty bucks. A sleeper is six dollars, and they're so much nicer than the WalMart ones.
I love their Italian salad dressing. I would go for that alone, even if I had to walk two miles, which I do.
I love their frozen desserts. You can show up at someone's house with a really beautiful, yummy dessert for seven dollars. For someone who can't bake to save her life, this is a treat in itself.
I love all of their menu things. Anything with the label "A Taste Of" on it is delicious. I've not found one that's not yummy. They have this fig balsamic sauce in a jar, which when paired with goat cheese on a Triscuit is life changing.
I love their prices. They have a rotisserie chicken, loaf of french bread, and two salads deal that's only ten dollars. Ten! To feed four people!
And now that I have a baby, I love that it's one stop for all that I need. Tonight I got baby clothes, a wedding gift for Shawn and Stephanie, cards and wrap for the same, some dishes, eggs and milk. It was nice not to have to load Bella in and out of the car three times to do that. Even if I didn't have money for a cart and loaded down her stroller so much that I nearly buried her.
So I go. Bella fell asleep in the stroller while we were there tonight and I had her all tucked away from people and their germs, and had disinfected my hands and the stroller, so I felt relaxed enough to take a walk. I learned today that they also have really nice kitchen things. I got a set of french onion soup bowls for ten dollars. For four bowls, and they're pretty and white, so they match my other dishes. Melissa inspired me to try the french onion soup, and now I have bowls to do it in!
Oh Stupid Superstore. How it vexes and delights me. Another love-hate relationship.
That's all I did today worth talking about. Oh, except that I played at least four hours of Tomb Raider for my Wii, and managed to forget to save my game both times and so now I have nothing to show for what was already wasted time. Stupid Laura Croft and her slutty outfits and her confusing save options. I hate-hate Laura Croft.
I finally posted to Bella's blog. Pictures and a video and everything. I know.
For all the time I have on my hands, I don't do a heck of a lot. Today I spent a lot of time and a little money at My Sweet Bowtique. Oh man. I could go crazy there. I already watched Top Chef, Peter goes back to work in a few minutes, and I'm alone here again. Maybe if Bella sleeps on her own a little I'll finish the laundry, or clean the kitchen. When Peter comes home, then we're watching Monday Night Football, and having pizza and wings. That'll be fun. I'll have to crochet all evening in order to stay awake, or maybe have a nap with Bella when he's gone.
Crocheting! I haven't posted about that yet. I have made a scarf semi-successfully (in that I'm not embarassed to wear it out) and am now working again on Bella's blanket. If you were on facebook you will know that I started a blanket and then realized a long way in, that I was screwing up over and over again and had to pull the whole thing out. I was depressed. So now I'm a little further than I was before, with no real critical errors. It's a dark red color and it's going to have a soft ivory trim, and I'm giving it to her for Christmas. This sounds so Martha Stewart and Good Housekeeping of me that it makes me almost as happy as the blanket itself. I love the idea of crocheting and knitting, and so I got my mom-in-law and sister-in-law to teach me when they were here and I've been going to town ever since. I don't know if I have enough time to get the blanket done. I'd like to make a matching hat too...hmm. The thing about crocheting,in my experience so far, is that it's really not much cheaper than buying what you make. Not if you get something nice anyway. I used some super-soft bamboo yarn for my scarf and it ended up being about 25 dollars. I was going to use it for hats for Bella so I didnt' mind spending the extra, but then I couldn't make the hat, and tried a scarf and needed WAY more yarn, which was no longer on sale. Oh well. The blanket in the end, if I don't run out of yarn, should run me about $15 though. So that'll be okay. I love doing it though. I love having something for Bella that I made for her under the tree.
I'm still waffling about Shawn's wedding and have decided that I will make no decision until I talk to the doctor on Thursday. We'll see. I also may break my promise to not look things up online that pertain to Bella and do some research of my own. Peter is afraid this will scare me into further hibernation, and he may be right, but I think I need to know more...
Okay, this is all I got. I don't know what the title is and my stinking video for Bella's blog is still loading, so if you're reading this immediately after I wrote it, then maybe don't go check quite yet. Looks like it may be a moment.
EDIT: No video, it wouldn't load in an hour, and I got tired of waiting. It wasn't that good anyway.
Oh my gosh, no time!!
Okay - here's what I'm excited about this week, which is actually a stunning glimpse into what my life has become.
Monday - Top Chef. Oh how I love Top Chef. It's by far my favorite thing on TV. Also, the Broncos are playing Monday Night Football, against the Steelers at home.
Tuesday - The Good Wife. I find it strange that I like this show, but I really do. Good drama.
Wednesday - GLEE! Oh thank heavens for glee. It sure is aptly named as that is the feeling that fills my heart when it is on.
Thursday - Grey's Anatomy, though I still don't know why I watch, I never miss an episode.
Friday - nothing, but that's only one day. Maybe I'll get out of the house a little.
There! Did I make it?
So last night I went to hang out with friends of ours, Phil and Joy. They have a little baby girl that is exactly four months older than Bella. Every time they're together we all laugh at how brown Bella is. Seriously, she looks like she's Native. My mom says it's so Luc doesn't feel left out, being the only brown kid in the family. He went on and on this summer about how brown he is, and how white I am, cutest thing ever. Anyway, getting out of the house was what I needed. Today I felt better.
She's so much braver than me. True, she understands not one thing about what is at stake here, but that would make things more scary to me. Sometimes she wakes up from a dead sleep screaming in pain from her stomach. Sometimes when we go to give her medicine, she looks at us with her huge eyes and cries until she isn't even making a sound, just tears on her face and sobbing so hard it just breaks our hearts. My mom burst into tears the other day giving her medicine. I cried for about an hour afterward. She usually calms down right away after, and I hold her and apologize and we rock and cry.
But most of the time, she's brave. The other day she grinned at us the whole time we were shoving syringes in her mouth. Never made a peep. I can now give her medicine on my own. Probably 65-70% of the time she does okay. She gags on the anti-nauseant but I don't blame her. I make a point of tasting every medicine that I give her. Here's the break down.
Ranitadine - foul. I touched the end of a 1ML syringe to my tongue and seriously, my whole mouth tasted so bitter and alcoholic that I was shocked. Gross! She takes 0.6ML of this three times a day.
Propranolol - not bad. Texture is similar to hair gel, and we have to keep it cold, so she doesn't love that, but it has a mild flavor, so that's not too bad. She takes 1.75ML of this three times a day.
Prednisol- kind of citrus-y. Not terrible. Out of the three, she likes it best, which is lucky since at one point it was 20ML a day, broken into two doses. Now we're down to 7.5 in the morning, and 2.5 at night.
Fluconozol - creamy and thick, so texture sucks. But it tastes a little like ground up vitamin C tablets. Peter says it smells exactly like that orange industrial hand cleaner. I think it's fine, she's not a big fan at all. Gags on this one a lot too. But we only do 2MLs once in the afternoon, so she copes. And of course the Gripe Water, which tastes like dill and licorice. Weird.
I don't know why she's so sweet, and so happy. Honestly, if she isn't in pain, or super tired from being in so much pain, she's smiling. She talks away, and what's also cute, in a super sad way, is that she has learned how to complain without actually crying. She makes these mad yelling sounds, or sad yelling sounds and sometimes will do it until she's asleep on my chest, still yelling occasionally, but eyes closed, totally relaxed. It's like she just needs to tell us that she's having a hard day.
I think, as far as the crying and the pain she's in goes, I have reached a sort of break through. I do not try to get her to stop crying. I know, how very "zen" of me - but I just accept it. She's in pain. I cannot do one thing to stop that. I'm not going to ask her to not communicate with me about it. She communicates by crying, and so would I if I were in that much pain. So I talk to her. I rock her and tell her that she is allowed to cry, that I don't mind one bit, and that I'm so sorry it hurts and that I love her more than anything in the world. I don't know if it shortens the spells, but it helps me. To say out loud, "it's okay sweetheart. You go ahead and cry. I know you're sad. Tell mommy about it, I want to hear. It's okay." doesn't do a whole lot for her, but it calms me down. To hear my voice saying it makes the frantic "PLEASE stop crying!" panicked feeling go away. And when I relax, eventually, so will she.
In other news, I FINALLY found her the tiniest little pair of black shiney dress shoes for Shawn's wedding. She's wearing black and ivory, and I think she is going to look like a tiny little Audrey Hepburn. I'll take photos. We're going, we have to. I'm going to pray like crazy and stay the heck away from absolutely everyone. I don't know what else to do. The doctors aren't so terribly worried, they're not calling for her quarantine, but letting us know to be careful. The doctor did tell me that she gives the same medicine to babies who have siblings in school, and she's never seen one group of kids do better than others. She said I'm not to become house bound, that that's an over reaction. So we're going to try.
That's all I got. She's been crying with Peter the entire time I've been typing, so I'm going to go.
The title of the blog is actually a song title - by a group called Addison Road. Check them out. That song, and another, What Do I Know of Holy, are amazing. The rest of their album is unfortunately, a little blah. But those two are fantastic.
Sorry, I'm about to whine a little bit. Feel free to ignore me if you think my issues are small potatoes when compared to yours; you're probably right. But I need to post today and this is all I'm thinking about.
Robyn has a fever and a cough and feels achy. She lives with my mom. Therefore, due to Bella's immune system being suppressed, I can't see my family for approximately a week. More, if any more of them get it. I know that H1N1 is contagious for about a week, from the day before you show symptoms, to about a week after. So if, say, my mom shows symptoms in a week, then I have another week to go. And if, say, my dad shows symptoms a week after that, then I have another week after that. You see where this could start to make me panic?
I'm terrified to go to my own brother's wedding next weekend. Too many people have been sick. What do I do? Sit in the back of the room with Bella in her carseat with the rain cover on, even though we're inside? I don't want her breathed on, let alone held. I'm so scared of her getting this. So scared. Do I just not go? Or go and leave her with Peter at home with some frozen breast milk? I don't know what in the world to do.
On top of all this, I need my mom. I'm tired and scared and I worry incessantly for Bella. I need my mom around. The two weeks she was in Saskatchewan were nearly intolerable for me. Peter is at work for nine hours a day, and sometimes I just need someone here so I can have them hold her while I go pee, take a shower, or sweep the floor. I can't do without my mom for 1-3 weeks. I just can't. And now I have to. I would never forgive myself if I were responsible for Bella getting sick just because I was being a baby and needed to be with my mom for a while. So we're pretty much house bound. I don't take her out in public unless it's necessary, and really, most things aren't. Like taking Peter out for dinner tomorrow night. That was the plan. Our first date night since Bella was born. Something we both "need". My mom and dad were going to watch her. Now I get to call the restaurant and cancel our reservation. Maybe in two weeks or so we'll try again. And I don't want anyone else watching her, because she doesn't really know anyone else and that seems unfair to her too.
This sucks. I want my mom. I want Bella to be off this stupid medicine, and not in 47 days. Today. I want her off today. Or rather, two weeks ago, so her immune system would have had time to rebuild and I could feel like a normal parent, going out for dinner and getting a babysitter. I want to go to mom's group on Tuesday mornings. I want to go to the mall and not have a panic attack when some stranger goes to touch her face. The other day at the grocery store she was crying and a sales lady stood about 10 inches from her face and went on and on about how beautiful she was, and I must be so proud. I didn't feel proud. All I thought was, "who are you? Are you sick? Is your family sick? Did you just come from getting the stupid H1N1 shot? When was the last time you washed your hands? Please back up, back up, back up." I would have told her, but I think she was slightly disabled and I didn't feel like causing a scene. I bolted instead. Threw all my stuff into one plastic bag and got the heck out.
She can't get sick. I'm not being paranoid or overreacting. This isn't the flu to me. This is dangerous. People die from the flu every single year. Not normal healthy adults. People with prior conditions. Like having a suppressed immune system. If she gets it, there's not a thing they can do for her. Her body can't fight it off - I can't even think about what that could mean for her.
I'm so tired. I'm so so tired of this.
I'm also too busy to figure out something interesting to say. I have to leave to fetch Peter from work in approx 2 hours and 45 minutes. In that time I have to clean my kitchen and bedroom, and make the following menu:
~Real bruschetta with my driveway mozza, tomatoes, balsamic and some stupid basil paste I have to use because SaveOn was out of real basil. Argh. If I had gone to Whole Foods this never would have happened. Why didn't I buy basil yesterday?!
~Breaded shrimp things and some sort of sauce to dip them in.
~Stuffed mushrooms (these I bought, didn't make them, so I just have to fire them in the oven.)
~A bunch of little crostinis to put cheese and stuff on.
~A cheese and meat and olive platter
~A platter for our fancy goat cheese that I bought. Goodness, we eat a lot of cheese!
~Proscuitto wrapped asparagus
I also need to wrap two birthday presents, write in two cards and occasionally nurse and change the baby. Also, after picking up Peter, at 9pm no less, I need to go to the store and get a good bottle of wine, and some firewood. I was going to do it now but it is POURING rain and I couldn't take Bella in and out of the car that many times without risking her getting sick.
I'm tired just thinking about it. And there goes Bella. Gotta run.
Yes, I'm going to use the driveway mozza. Don't you wish I was making dinner for your birthday?
So my posts so far have been a little angry or depressing so I'm going to post something good.They say (whoever they are) that before you go to bed you should think of five good things about your life, or about that day, and five good things about your spouse, and you'll live a much better life. I think "they" might have been Oprah, now that I think of it, but hey, can't hurt.
1. Today I was told that I can again reduce Bella's steroid dose. I prayed that we'd be off steroids by Christmas, it was what I wanted under the tree. Empty steroid bottles and no refills on the prescriptions. We'll be done by December 23, so I get my wish!! This made me so happy that I cried in the hospital Starbucks today.
2. I cooked with parsnips for the first time yesterday and they were wonderful!! Actually the second time, the first time I cubed them, threw them in the oven to roast and forgot about them. This time I made them into soup with some potatoes and white asparagus. I blended it all with my immersion wand blender thingy and it made delicious white soup. I love that blender more than anything in my kitchen, except for the mug Peter got me about a month after we met, when he randomly pulled my name for a Christmas gift exchange. We weren't even friends then really. Aww. That's a good thing in itself. I love that mug.
3. My mom came with me to Vancouver today and Bella barely cried all day, despite being crammed in her carseat for the better part of 12 hours. She was an angel. I love having my mom around when things are going on, it just makes things easier to take.
4. I got to go to Whole Foods today and have lunch and pick up some things for a little bit of birthday dinner for Peter tomorrow. I love Whole Foods. It's like Mecca for me.
5. Tomorrow is Peter's birthday. I met him exactly five years ago and have loved every minute since. I can't believe he's mine, and that we have this beautiful baby girl that's a part of us. No matter how crappy things can be with screaming medicine times, and scary trips to the doctors and the hospital, I wouldn't trade our life for anyone else's. I wish we lived near Whole Foods though.
6. (Because I was always a bit of an overachiever). Just a few minutes ago when trying to get my Whole Foods purchases into the house, the funniest thing happened. I pulled my 85% recycled eco friendly paper bag out from the trunk and the bottom fell out spreading onto my driveway a container of olives, a pumpkin cranberry loaf and a ball of real mozzarella, in the container with that weird watery stuff that's in there. I found eveything but the mozza, which I accidentally kicked while looking for it, sending my mozza ball rolling onto the driveway and the watery stuff spilling everywhere. I laughed like crazy and didn't know what to do so I stuffed it back in the plastic tub, gathered it up and carried it to the door where I proceeded to drop it again while searching for my house keys and sending it rolling across my step, bouncing off and down the walk a little. My mom and I laughed so hard at the sight of my $8.50 mozza bouncing away that we nearly fell over and peed ourselved. You should have seen it. Funniest thing that happened to me all day.
First, I must apologize to Carrie for the loss of her beautiful template that used to be here. I thought it would be fun to play with the idea of a new one, since I haven't used the older one for a couple of years. In a lovely show of technological genius, I lost the old template forever. I blame her partly though, as I got hooked on the idea by looking at her new template and then that was that. So I also did up a blog for Bella, and hopefully can publish to that more often. I'm becoming less and less of a fan of Facebook every day. Here's my latest reason:My biological father had the unmitigated gall to show up at my Uncle John's funeral. I am so sorry to his family for this. What a bastard (hmm, three posts, two cuss words. Hopefully this isn't the start of a trend). I can't believe the uncles didn't get together and bodily remove him from the premises. I would have done it, if I had been there, and if I were big enough...however with this baby weight I'm still packing around...sorry, I digress. I know why he was there. He wanted to see me or Robyn, Reagan or Shawn, and assumed we'd be there. I should correct that. He didn't want to see us. He wanted my mom to see him seeing us. Oh the words that run through my head (see above). Anyway, his new wife Nettie commented to my mother how beautiful we all were. My mom wanted to know how in the world he got pictures of us, and he said that my "uncle" Joe had pulled them off of Facebook and saved them to the computer for Dave. Unbelievable. He has not one right to look at a photo of us. He is not at all worthy of looking at my beautiful daughter and fancying himself some form of grandfather. He's not. He is Bella's mothers sperm donor and nothing more. If I could erase him from her family tree, I'd do it in a heartbeat. In fact, in her baby book, he's not on the family tree anywhere. If I could somehow never tell her about him, that'd be great. I'd be happy if she never even knew of his existence. Anyway, I have ruthlessly pared down my friends list, and I'm pretty sure everyone we know has removed Joe Adrian as a friend. My privacy settings on Facebook are pretty tight, but still. Ewww. It just makes me furious to think about. I'm toying with the idea of making this blog private, which I will likely do soon. Bella's new blog is. You have to have permission in order to see it. This makes me more calm. I like it more. I'm tempted to take pictures of her off of Facebook entirely. Maybe this is overkill. I should talk to Peter about it. He'll tell me if I'm overreacting. You know what scares me? Lots of stuff. But lately, it freaks me out that you can't get your photos off the internet. If I deleted my Facebook account this instant, lots of other people have photos of me on theirs. I can't control who Shawn is friends with, and in a couple weeks he is getting married, and then I'm sure he'll want to post pictures up. Those pictures will contain us. People I don't want to see us could see us. I don't know who Shawn is friends with. Probably nobody unsavory, but who knew Joe Adrian would give photos of me to one of the last people on earth I would want to have them. I don't like this one little bit. Anyway - that's my hypersensitive rant for today. With so much garbage going on, it shouldn't be at all hard to post once a day. If you'd like to see Bella's blog - just e mail me your e mail address and I'll add it on. I tried to take a few e mail addresses from Facebook and put them on, so some of you will be able to just log on and see it, but if you can't, just let me know. In the meantime, the address is http://www.ourlittlecookie.blogspot.com/Anyway, back to the template. Want to know what sold me? Well the coffee, and the pen and the post it (I'm sure I've blogged about my love of post-its before) and the leather-looking notebook. But above all of that is the paper looking placemat. Doesn't it look like something from Country Dining in Martensville?! Made me think of going for fries again. Which I apparently missed so much that I made them last night. Not exactly shrimp-chicken-lemon-dill-cream-carbs-deliciousness but I did have one culinary masterpiece of last night. I somehow managed to recreate in perfect detail, Moxie's basil-mayo french fry dip. It was divine. I'm thinking of all sorts of recipes that I could slather it on. Can't wait.
I miss everyone. I can't tell you how badly I wanted to come for the funeral. Not the funeral, I hate funerals, though I heard this one was amazing. I wanted to be with my family in a difficult time. It's been five years this fall since I've been there. Think of all that has happened to you Saskatchewan folks in five years! I've missed births, deaths, weddings.
I'd have been there except for Bella's immune system. I just couldn't take her on a plane. And she had doctors appointments and all sorts of crap to do here. But I so wanted to be there. This year, I'm coming. If it's for the family reunion that I hear rumors of, or just to come - I want to do it.
I've never met either of Cindi's kids, or Jen's or Amy's. I met Ben when he was really little, and don't know Sam or Hannah. I've never met Johnny's wife Melissa, though I blog stalk her a little bit sometimes. I love the way she writes. I don't comment though because it seems silly since I've never even introduced myself. I don't know what Auntie Susan's house looks like now that it's all renovated. No idea. I see pictures of it and it looks totally strange to me. I hate that. I don't even know what Grandma's house in Martensville looks like. I still think of the big house in Osler with the basement when I think of her. I was at the other little one in Osler, but only once or twice. I haven't gone for fries with the girls in ages. I've never been to Becky's house. I don't know who Lisa married (except that if the name is an indication, he's gotta be great) or what Heather is doing now that she's not travelling the globe.
Sometimes I hate Facebook. I don't want 420 characters about what's going on with you. I want pages and pages. Novels. Write away, I love long posts. I love to write them and to read them. I'm all for this posting once a day thing. I hope everyone does it. I miss you all. And when I'm alone in my house with Peter gone and it's raining and I'm feeling sorry for myself, it helps to read about what you're all doing. Even if it's what you made for dinner. I love little details like that.
Here's mine for today. I want someone to come over and snuggle Bella so I can blow off some stress by cooking. I want to make chicken and shrimp with a lemon-dill-cream sauce over pasta. Maybe with some fresh tomatoes and green onions to garnish and some fresh shaved parmesan cheese. I relax by cooking. It's such a great outlet for me. It requres something of me, and I can concentrate and if I put enough pieces together, I can make something work. I can do something I haven't done before. When everything falls apart, this makes sense to me. And it makes something beautiful and tasty and comforting. Someone (probably on Food Network) said that food is the only art that appeals to every sense and I like that. I'm not very artistic, but I can tell you my five best meals and exactly what they looked, smelled, felt, tasted like. What they sounded like cooking. If I know Bella is being comforted by Peter or someone else she knows then I can put on head phones and relax. I can take a million little parts and make them all do one thing, make one thing. And when it's all on a plate then something inside me relaxes. It makes me feel like I can do the same thing with my life. Plus it's enjoyed with a glass of wine, and that always helps.
Come for dinner. Please?
