Ripples in the pond.

A big pile of dirt.

2010-04-09T14:00:00.000-07:00

Today I am excited because a big pile of dirt (soil, that is) is being delivered to our house. 4 cubic yards of the finest fish compost/lawn mix blend, all black and earthy and ready to do some good in our yard.

Really, the whole Tyrrell family should be gleeful about this event and here is why:

I get to be excited because it marks the beginning of the cut flower garden and new patch of lawn I have been envisioning all winter.

Evvy should be excited because a big pile of dirt means lots of worms to take for walks.

Peter should be excited because shovelling dirt is a sexy husband thing to do.

Maqsoum should be excited because rolling in big piles of dirt is a time-honoured canine activity.

I will try to take and post pictures of the dirt-related excitement as it unfolds this weekend. Please, please, pleeeeease don't let it rain!!!

Those things she says.

2010-04-08T15:10:00.000-07:00

I have no doubt that Evvy will relish language and reading much as her dear ol' mom and dad do. Her pronounciation certainly belies her 2 1/2 year old tongue, but she loves to absorb and dispense various expressions that she hears, using them in appropriate situations, even if she does not understand them fully. Here are a few of my favourite Evvy-isms.

(Indignantly, when I have done something that has offended her delicate sensibilities): "Mama! Don't you do dat EVER again!"

(When asked whether she needs help with something): "No, sometimes I can do dat by myself because I am a BIG girl now."

(When asked what she is chattering about, apparently to no-one ,) "Oh. Sorry mama, I was just talking to myself."

(When asked what she is doing with the 3 earthworms she is carefully arranging on the lawn): "I taking dem for a walk. Dat's important because they need deir exa-cise."

(While at work with her felt pens. ): "See mama, dat's an email for you. You can put it on your ipod."

(When asked what her email says."): "It says "E-V-V-Y."

I think Peter already wrote about Shoygie and Eyoeyo, Evvy's self-named left and right feet, respectively, but I grin every time I think about it.

And my 5 minutes are now up...

Those who cannot do teach.

2010-04-06T11:10:00.000-07:00

When it comes to P.E. I have no problem agreeing with this statement - although usually it just offends me.
I somehow managed to end up teaching P.E. again this year, and for our spring units, which were divided up amongst teachers at random, I got Rugby. Seriously.

You know the public education system is in the midst of collapse when I responsible for teaching a rugby unit.

I have watched a lot of Rugby in my lifetime. Well, to be honest, I have watched a lot of very muscular legs and buttocks belonging to rugby players in my time. But I can't honestly say that I've paid much attention to what their hands are doing. Something about a ball, I think. And then they jump on each other and wrestle or whatnot. Oh dear.

I do like the New Zealand team's Haka. But that's more of a dance, isn't it? But, hey, that appeals to me... as do those short, short, shorts.

Sigh. Wish me luck.

Today's 5-minute post was brought to you by an Outsiders Test. Good luck kids. Yes, I am doing something HIGHLY important right now...

All up in my head.

2010-04-01T14:26:00.000-07:00

I have this problem. I love writing, but I feel that in order to write a blog post, it needs to be carefully considered, well crafted and painstakingly edited. It is my perfectionism at its worst. I never have the time to achieve this, so I simply don't start. Pathetic, when I think about it, which I have been doing all day today.

Just now, I was talking to one of my very talented and conscientious students who was having the same problem with beginning an assignment with a tight deadline. She told me, " I know I won't have time to do this to the best of my abilities, so I feel like I just shouldn't do it at all." I asked her why she felt this way and she replied, "I don't know, I guess I just get all up in my head about it."

I looked at her for a second and said, "you know what, so do I."

So here I am. My 5-minute blog post of the day. I am about to hit "post" without reading this through or editing it at all and I kinda feel like barfing. Here we go...

Why I don't Facebook anymore.

2009-12-06T15:42:00.000-08:00

Ah, Facebook.
To say I have put this little life-gobbling application on the back-burner would be a gross understatement. My actual flesh-and-blood, person-to-person social life is currently occupying the back burner.

This means that my blog has been plunked on our somewhat unreliable propane camp stove. Which means that my Facebooking* is festering away somewhere down in the cellar, hands clasped choirboy-style, gamely warbling, "The sun'll come out tomorrow..."

"Why?" you ask. "Why are you neglecting this useful social networking tool? Why has your profile pic. not been changed in nearly a year?"** Well the answer is simple. Sort of.

I am scared of Facebook.

Doing something simple like uploading a profile pic puts me perilously close to the black hole that will suck an entire productive day dry. First it starts by putting a photo up, then I want to see who else has put new photos up, then I want to comment on those photos, then I have to get all witty about commenting on people's status updates, then before I know it, it's dinnertime, my child and dog are eating each other, my husband has been sucked into his computer, my house has been hit by a tornado and I am still in my housecoat.

There. See why Facebook is so scary?

*please, Generation Z, help me out with a cooler word here
**see what I mean about my social life? I've got to invent my own Greek Chorous in order to carry on a conversation.

2009 in Review Part 1: Ripplebliss

2009-12-06T08:58:00.000-08:00

Like ocean currents, some parts of my life run fast and deep, others slow and shallow. Work is my Gulfstream right now, whisking away any vestige of free time that I try to hoard and depositing it who-knows-where. Maybe someone on the other side of the Atlantic is collecting all this leisure time it as it washes up on shore.

Really, my "New Year" starts every September, so January is usually just a continuation of what I've been doing all Fall and Winter. Jan, 2009 I was teaching 3 days a week and spending the rest of my time focused on Evvy and home improvement projects. I was comfortably busy and feeling quite productive. I had a weekly routine which included going to the gym, sharing childminding, visiting the library, going on Facebook and putting off my marking. Work had taken the back burner, which was where I liked it, and our home and yard were steadily becoming something we could be proud of. Peter's business was running well, too, despite the recession, which was something to be very thankful for.

I will skim over the part of last spring when my job was whisked out from beneath me like a magician's tablecloth. Most of April through June were spent pondering the greener career grass that other career options seemed to offer. "Hmmmm..." said I, "those chicks that hold up SLOW signs at construction sites are fairly well paid..."
But alas, I had to conclude that I am a teacher. There it is and here I am. Until an epiphany comes knocking on my door, you'll find me in a middle school classroom.

All this mess sorted itself out as best it could and September saw some huge changes in how my teaching career looked, including a move to a different middle school and a return to work full-time. But first, I had Summer: Lovely Summer!

Summer was great, as it should be. We did our usual couple of weeks at Shuswap lake with my family and we all thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. I had fun working on my waterskiing, which had fallen by the wayside over the past few years (think pregnancy and small baby), but a new water ski perked up my interest and I looked forward to mornings out on the water.

The one hard part about the summer was losing Mao. He died unexpectedly in August and it was hard on everyone. We've got plans to make a little memorial in the garden for him, come spring. One thing I knew, after losing Mao, was that no cat could fill those boots anytime soon, so we started slowly on our quest to find a dog. This quest finished with Maqsoum, a retired racing greyhound located for us through the Northwest Canadian Greyhound League. We picked him up in Calgary in mid-November and have been enjoying his company ever since. He's got a wonderful, calm temperament and has fit in very nicely with our family and routines. Evvy absolutely adores him, too.

On the work front, my RTW reality hit mid-August. Thankfully I had already found a daycare for Evvy, which turned out to be the silver lining of this whole ordeal.Peter and his mom decided to alternate Mondays with Evvy, which is great for all involved. Ev then spends 4 days a week with a wonderful lady named Alison, whose ability to deal with preschoolers is nothing short of magical. Evvy has made many friends since September and loves telling me about her day. The kids go on regular outings, and produce enough arts and crafts to plaster every surface of my fridge on a weekly basis. It makes my life so much easier knowing that she is in good hands while I'm toiling away.

I'm also working much closer to home now, which has allowed me to bike to work. The trip to MEC to get all the equipment was pretty fun, and I've gotten good use of it, riding to work on average 4 days a week. Of course, now that the roads are getting icy, I'm going to have to come up with a Plan B!

My job has devolved somewhat since September, too. The position I applied for, and accepted back in the spring was to be on a team of 2 French Immersion teachers, sharing 2 grade 8 classes of 20 kids each. Pretty cushy numbers, and straight classes. I figured I could handle working full time.

Hah! Goes to show how naive I was. The posting was a lure, and I was the bigmouth bass. The first week of school in September, they restructured classes and came up with 2 grade 7/8 split classes of 30 kids each. Ouch! Needless to say, I was ready to apply for a WalMart greeter position after that news. Some negotiating took place, and I got Wednesdays off work to do marking and prep (unpaid, of course) I still have to teach the monster split classes 4 days a week. It's still way too much work, but at least I'm keeping my head above water now.

Life is not ALL work and mommy-maid. I still have delusions of being a bellydancer in my spare time. My stream of creativity has trickled down to a drip, but like everything else in my life the past year, at least it is flowing in the right direction.

In June of last year, my good friend Sarah and I decided to go it on our own, and with the blessing of our longtime teacher Pamela, we formed our own duet: Sarelle. We've been relishing our Friday night practice and coffee sessions ever since, and we've even secured some gigs, one of which is on the mainland on the January 9th weekend (more details soon - come see us dance!) We will soon have a website, and had some gorgeous photos taken during the summer (much preening was involved!)

That's where things stand in my life right now. For brevity's sake, I've kept the digressions and anecdotes to a minimum, but I *do* have plans to fit blogging into my life somehow this New Year. I miss writing, and rarely allow myself the time I need to indulge in this pastime. I definitely have enough inspiration in my life to work with.

Well, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours. Those of you I haven't seen or spoken to in awhile, I would love to reconnect over the break. I hope all is well, and invite you to stick around for the next blog about Evvy.

Oh! And link to photos coming soon!

Bowling.

2009-01-01T20:53:00.000-08:00

Toilet bowling, that is. The weekly, or sometimes monthly act of cleaning the cuvette in which we relieve ourselves daily. Now that we have 2 bathrooms in our house, it's a double-dip of fun. But that's not the way that things should be, you see when we bought this house, the bathrooms were divided.

Peter got the small upstairs one (pedestal sink, shower, toilet), for his, erm, business. I chose the downstairs one which is a large full bath. More time consuming to clean, but the one that company is likely to see/use, therefore the one which needs to be cleaned properly.

Now, as things were to go, Peter was meant to keep his bathroom clean. I stocked it with Lysol wipes and Mr. Clean magic erasers for this very purpose. A squirt, brushy-brush and flushy-flush here and a few wipes there and bingo! It's in adequate condition for a male-owned bathroom. But no, alas, he could not even handle this small chore and I watched, in dismay, as the sink became toothpaste-crusted and the toilet started to look like pink and brown tie-dyed t-shirt.

Fast forward to the week before Christmas. Visitors are imminent. I knew that there was no use in asking Peter to clean his toilet. He is very adept at ignoring all requests for help on the home maintenance and cleanliness front, especially when he does not fancy the job at hand. I don't know how he manages, but he actually makes me feel GUILTY for asking him. Sick, I know!* Anyhow, asking, nagging, pleading and begging are not terribly effective and I lack the sociopathic nerve to take his kneecaps out with a baseball bat, so I decided to take care of the worst of it, ie. cleaning the toilet.

Off I went to put a new sponge on the toilet cleaning thingy (aka. a fresh brush MAX) which I inherited with the house. Anyhow, if you watch the little video on the link in the last sentence, you will see that a sponge is clipped onto the end of a wand. What it does not show is what happens when the wand does not click fully into place.

So there I was, scrubby scrub, trying to remove some of the worst scum in the drain hole when *click!* the sponge detaches and becomes wedged just out of sight.
"Uh-oh!" I thought and I got some BBQ tongs and attempted to dislodge it, to no avail. In fact, I think I only succeeded in pushing it down further.

Next step: rubber gloves. Rolled 'em on as high as I could, and reached down into the drain hole, but my fingers were barely scraping the sponge.

The plunger was just a bad idea. All that did was push the sponge down further. Toilet no worky anymore.

It's taken until today for us to pull up the toilet, and with much nagging and begging on my part. Peter hates home repairs even more than he hates cleaning, which usually leaves me holding the handy-woman wrench. For this, though, I needed his male upper-body strength for the toilet lifting part.

Still no luck, though. We can't see the sponge anywhere, and now the bathroom smells like poo-drain. Tomorrow I will go get a snake and we'll if we can't find that sucker... The, er, good news is that it offers us an opportunity to replace the wax seal on the toilet.

I know. Every cloud has a silver lining.

Dragons

2008-11-30T22:41:00.000-08:00

This week I will tame some dragons. Some I've hatched myself, a few have come from who-knows-where and some still swoop way up overhead - I have only to guess what those look like, and my imagination does not lean towards the cute and cuddly.

It won't be easy. They're equipped to put up quite a tussle. But they need to know who's boss and should have seen this coming. Granted, dragons are not ones for foresight.

Dragon taming is all about the element of surprise. They all sit and ponder, or fly on reconnaissance or lie around, fat from all the gorging, feeling safe in their numbers. The trick is to whisk one away without the others noticing. Then separate 'em and work on 'em one-by-one. As their numbers dwindle, the rest in the group begin to loose their poise - they look around, wonder, "where did all the others go" and get all sloppy. The last few are usually a breeze.

I've got two to tackle tomorrow. Oh, and treats don't work.

Collar, chain, electric whip, megaphone and courage: Check! Here we go.

Actually, she's 14 months old now, but who's counting?

2008-11-05T21:09:00.000-08:00

So, er, I guess I have been incommunicado for awhile.
I'd like to blame it on going back to work, or on the time I'm now spending doing marking in the evenings, or on my somewhat fitful efforts to get back into shape, or the fact that I can't even get near a computer while Evvy's around without her wanting to touch/smash/garble it. But these are all cop-outs. I just got out of the swing of things, and now it's going to take effort to get back on track.

So, on to my daughter.

Evvy is still very much Evvy. In fact, she becomes more Evvy with every passing day.

You, too can do the "Evvy" by following these simple steps:

- Repeating your favourite words in a variety of intonations and volumes a la Shakespearean actor. Gesticulating and pointing is also important - large gestures please, you are playing to an audience. "Dada? Da-da! dadaDaDA! Daaaaa-dah! DADA!!!"

-Toddling around cheerfully with a variety of random items to proudly display to household members. Choices include: dish gloves (put on hands by self), pictures of family members, a tin of cat food, a container full of playing cards or one of daddy's sneakers.

- Declaring that you want "DOW!" and accompanying this assertion with a nose-dive flop every time someone picks you up and attempts to hold you for more than 2 seconds.

- Being obsessed with dogs, dog books, dog sounds and dog pictures. Having no fear of dogs whatsoever, even when being bowled over and slurped mercilessly on the face.

- Running off in whatever direction mama or dada DON'T want you to go. Coyly looking back over your shoulder when called, then running away even faster with gleeful giggles.

- Loving your weekly routines and clapping enthusiastically because today is swimming day with daddy, or Grandma and Tessa-dog day, or playtime with Izzy day. Greeting nap time and bedtime with "night-night" waves and blankie cuddles.

- Eating next to nothing one day and pretty much everything the next.

- Waving "bye-bye" to anyone in the vicinity who makes eye contact - especially cashiers and street people.

- Learning new words every day. Very cute new words.
Some examples:
A clock is a clicking "tick tock" sound made with the tongue. Not to be confused with "horse", which is "nay!" THEN a clicking sound with the tongue to indicate galloping.
Strawberries are "wa-wee-wee"s, then a smacking sound (which also means "food" or "eat")
"Please" (which we are encouraging like crazy right now) is "tleee!" and my favourite remains "fish" which is an enthusiastic "shhhhhh!"
She also has some well-pronounced words like "keys", "duck", "cow" "night-night" and "towel" which can be recognized by your average person on the street. The rest take some deciphering.

There, got those instructions down? Now it's your turn to try!
Of course, all this is less effective if you are not a toddler. They also do not work well without the big blue eyes, chubby belly and soft blond curls. you would also do well to douse yourself in "Essence of Cute" before giving it a go in public.

Well, that's all the Evvy news for now. I guess I should share a bit about myself, but I will save that for another day. Not that you can handle any more suspense...

Evvy is one year old!

2008-09-04T19:33:00.000-07:00

(NB. I actually wrote this post in early September, but never got around to publishing it!)

I look back at the first few posts I made after Evvy was born and realize what a difference a year makes; not only to my daughter but also to my own life as a mother.
I am beginning to see why many women consider having a second (or, bless my heart, THIRD child). Motherhood, to some extent, becomes more involved, but also more enjoyable with a toddler. Really, I figure that one is an ideal age. Here's why:

She can walk, but cannot yet outrun me.
She is still light enough to carry, but chubby and delicious with baby fat.
She still needs me, but loves exploring her new world independently, too.
She knows enough words to tell me basically what she wants, but not enough to talk back or tell me off.
Plus: She is so darn cute... especially the way she toddles around like a little dinosaur-robot-baby.

These days Evvy is a busy little free spirit. Now that she can walk, that's pretty much all she wants to do... and she doesn't look back. She's always carting things around here and there - both hands are constantly full of toys, shoes, or random objects that she figures would improve Feng Shui if moved to another room. It's a whole new dimension in tidying up the house.

I am glad that I have a confident, outgoing, curious daughter, though. It has made going back to work part-time a bit easier in that she has adapted really well to being away from me and doesn't shed a single tear when I leave. I am lucky in that my family and friends have stepped up to be caregivers - and ideal situation.

Evvy is spending Mondays with daddy, Tuesdays with Grandma T. and Wednesdays with Sam and her daughter, Izzy who is almost exactly Evvy's age. On Thursdays I take Izzy for the day so Ev gets to spend 2 days with her little friend! So far, things have worked out great.

That being said, as the year progresses, I will miss being an exclusively stay-at-home mom. Hmmm... I also miss some other things already, for instance cuddles, which are now few and far between. It's go-go-go these days and Evvy does not want to be held back, or even held, for very long. Diaper changes could be mistaken for a wrestling match with a greased pig. She does still enjoy bath time, though and loves going to the swimming pool, which she will be doing every Monday with Peter.

Evvy eats pretty well and sleeps pretty well now, minus a few glitchy days here and there. She babbles constantly and is learning some new words, for instance "nnnnnnnnnno!" which Grandma T taught her unintentionally while scolding her dog, Tessa. She can say shoe "shhh-oh", fish "ashhh", num-num (for food), kitty kat "ki-khhh" and DVD (ie. Baby Einstein) "dee-dee-dee".

Evvy's birthday was a fun and well-attended event. Lots of friends and family were present to enjoy our home and deck. I spent several hours preparing a completely homemade and elaborately decorated birthday cake - a task that every mom worth her salt should do at least once in her life, just to find out how much effort it takes!

I'm looking forward to seeing the changes that this year holds in store for my little Ev. She seems to be growing in leaps and bounds and I can only imagine that this will continue. I thought I'd miss having a little babe-in-arms as Evvy grew, but I love how I can interact with her more every day and I am amazed at her adventurousness, spunk and sweet disposition. All in all, I couldn't be happier to have a toddler!

The great triathlon.

2008-08-29T21:05:00.001-07:00

I figure that managing a household is a bit like swimming. Whether you're going forwards or backwards you are constantly trying to keep your head above the water.

Working is a bit like running, then. While at work, it's important to pace yourself, keep up with the pack, stay hydrated and visualize your destination (ie. TGIF).

I guess that makes being a mom something like cycling... up Mt. Everest. It's hard work, but the further you get, the more spectacular the view behind you becomes.

Here's the thing: just because you can run a marathon doesn't mean that you could cycle the Tour de France or Swim the English Channel. Each sport takes different training and different muscles.

So, I got the whole swimming and running thing down pat. Swim in the morning, run, run, rest, run, run during the day, swim, swim and rest at night. K. Got it.

Then suddenly it's no longer swimming and running. It's swimming and cycling. At first it felt like I had ridden my bicycle clear off the pier and was frantically pedaling underwater trying not to drown. Now it's more like I'm cycling around the pool and occasionally jumping in to do a few laps whenever there's time.

Well, although I haven't forgotten HOW to run, some muscles have been neglected for the past year and now I'm expected to start a triathlon next week, like, BAM! Ouch. Things are going to be pretty sore for a little while, which is to be expected.

I think I'm up for it, though. Mentally, I'm there. They say that visualization is important, so I visualize myself prepared: got my goggles, fanny pack water bottle, vented hat and padded bike shorts on...

and I look like a complete dork.

The countdown begins...

2008-08-19T14:34:00.000-07:00

Id I'd have known how quickly this year would fly by, I would have spent less time sleeping and more time... Hey! Hang on, me. Stop being hard on myself!

I DID spend considerably less time sleeping than I ever have in my life, and more time doing pretty much everything a mom and lady of the house should do. In short, I don't regret a thing about my maternity leave, except that it's almost over.

This brings me to the nightmares:

I will my leaden feet to plod down the dark hallway, as that familiar syrupy wave of foreboding oozes its way down my back. The hollow clack-clack of my sensible shoes echoes on for miles and I am hyperventilating.

It is the first day of school and everything is wrong. Class started an hour ago, thanks to some administrative decision made without my knowledge. Worse yet, the school has been completely renovated and somehow my classroom has now found its way down into the catacombs.

Finally, I reach the appointed place. Room 13. Never a good sign. A dank smell emanates from the door vent. The hastily scrawled sign on the door reads "Mme. R. Tyrel". They have spelled my name wrong. Again.

Sighing, I push open the heavy door. My heart plummets as I scan the front of the tiny, gray-walled classroom. What? Where is all my stuff? No fridge, no whiteboards, no overhead projector, no computer, no sink!? All my belongings are heaped in cardboard boxes in the corner. The cardboard boxes appear to be covered in graffiti.
Then I remember. I can fix up my room in time. I must keep it together. My students are waiting for me.

I step into my kingdom. By the flickering of a single prehistoric fluorescent bulb I realize that the whole room is packed with teenagers. The bad kind. They are greasy, unruly and rank with B.O. Slumped on, over and under desks, they leer at me like a pack of hyenas, baring sharp yellow canines. My heart races.

"YOU're our new teacher? Hah!" says the ringleader, a lanky black-haired youth. I stare, mouth agape, amazed that his skin can sustain so many piercings.
I straighten my back, jut out my chin and reply with only the slightest quiver in my voice. "My name is Mme. Tyrrell, I am indeed your new teacher."
Before I can take a single step towards my desk, which appears to be made of cinder blocks and milk crates, the taunting starts.

"Well, c'mon then," the glassy voice of the popular girl chimes in, "teach us!"
"Yeah! Teach us!" the minions snarl in cacophony, looking to their adolescent ice-queen for approval.
She takes a moment to glance away from her hand mirror, lipstick tube still poised in her right hand, one perfectly plucked eyebrow arched high. A thin, cruel smile creeps onto her face. "Oh, and WTF are you WEARING?"

Here it is. The moment of horror. I slowly look down at my attire, expecting to see the dark trouser jeans and red crew-neck sweater I so carefully selected that morning. Instead, my eyes fall upon the vast expanse of my own doughy belly. I am wearing a belly dance costume. A really, really tight, sparkly seafoam bedlah. With no skirt.

All I can hear is a chorus of LOLs. That and the sound of my career imploding like a pop can in grade 8 science class.

The shame. The shame!!

So, can you tell I'm looking forward to going back to work?

Evvy is 11 months old!

2008-08-03T21:36:00.000-07:00

Here it comes, the countdown to toddlerhood! Evvy has taken her first steps already (as wobbly as all 3 of them were) and is slowly becoming more confident and adventuresome on her feet. She can "dance" to music and stand holding an object in each hand, something she likes to do for hours on end! She also knows how to crawl up stairs. Child safety gates to the rescue!

This month her pointing skills have evolved. They started with a general wave in one direction, followed by a palm-up pinching position, as if she were examining an offensive speck of dust that had the audacity to drift in her direction (complete with very posh outstretched pinky). Then it was a hands-sideways open-palmed gesture that one would use for hailing a taxicab, and finally that index finger started bravely pointing the way to... um, well, sometimes I have no clue what she's pointing at, but I always take my best guess.

Her favourite things to point at are: people she knows, other children, people she doesn't know but that smile at her, dogs, Mao, cats other than Mao, flowers, random things she sees out the window, boats (at Shuswap lake) and anything we have that she wants.

"Mao" is by far her favourite person right now. She says his name CONSTANTLY. She is, however, kind enough to vary the tone and volume of her "Mao"s from "MMMMMMMMMMMAO!" to "maomaomaomaomao" (accompanied by pointing and waving). She can say other new things too, like "dah" for dog and "bah" for ball, but Mao wins it every time.

She waves "hi!" "bye-bye" and "night-night" now and loves to clap. She will clap when excited about something but it's mainly for musical purposes these days. Grammy Friesen started teaching her Kodaly rhythms like "ti-ti-ta" and Ev will now clap happily and say "dit-dit-dah" along with it.

I bought her a kids' percussion set for fun, just to see what she'd do with it, and hoping she managed to inherit some of the musical talent gushing through her genes on both sides. Thankfully, she loves tapping her little tambourine banging together cymbals and shaking her wooden maracas.Evvy also enjoys putting objects in to containers and taking them back out again. I bought her a cool birdhouse which provides hours of amusement.

The highlight of this month was our trip to Shuswap Lake. Evvy spent lots of time with all sorts of family members and loved every minute of it, not to mention every scrap of attention she could get. Most of the extended Friesen family was there for a weekend, which was great because I rarely get time to visit with my aunts, uncles, cousins and their kids for more than a day at Christmas time. Evvy really enjoyed playing with her second cousins, Caden and Laine, both of whom were very patient and responsible with her. Of course, her time with Grammy and Grandpa, Uncle Mike and Jord was far too short.

As for the beach and the water, we explored many fun things to do with a bucket and some rocks, but the water was too cold for a baby swim, so Grammy found a kiddie pool and we filled it up so that Evvy could splash around in it. Good times all around!

Evvy did go in the boat, which was fine, all things considered. She showed no fear of the motor or the wind or the movement, but her lifejacket pretty much engulfed and smothered her into an unhappy mess. I think it will fit better next year.

The rides to and from Shuswap were as expected. Some much needed rest stops and soothing needed to be done along the way, but we made it. The cat was, thankfully, very well behaved and Evvy did well on the ferries, holding her own in the kids' play area alongside older tots.

In terms of eating and sleeping, Evvy is transitioning from two naps to one nap per day, usually starting sometime between 11am and noon, depending on how late she sleeps in. I use the term "late" loosely, as she routinely gets up at 5am, wanting a diaper change and bottle. She will then usually settle until 7 or 8, though.

New foods this month include cucumbers, peas, tomato, melon, perogies and pasta. She has become somewhat picky of late, and likes to throw her unwanted food on the floor and say, with a very concerned expression, "uh-oh!" Her other strategy for getting rid of unwanted food is trying to feed it to whoever is around. "Da!" she will say, thrusting half-masticated morsels into your face. A polite "no thankyou" is usually not enough to deter her. Pretending to eat the tasty tidbit is the best policy and usually elicits a grin.

There is so much more that I could say - this month has been a big one in terms of development. I do need some sleep though, so I'm off to bed preparing for my little sparrow to chirp me awake at 5 again tomorrow.

Night night (accompanied by enthusiastic hand flapping)

A blogging kick in the pants.

2008-07-24T21:45:00.000-07:00

So, my good friend, the lovely Yukon-mom Fawnahareo, noticed that I haven't blogged in awhile, so she tagged me with a meme. This one was pretty straightforward. You ask your siggy-other (in my case, hubby) to tell you 3 things about yourself. You know, the deep, important stuff; and then publish this information on your blog. You also have to pick more victims and then go to their blogs and leave them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged. The comment must end with the word ‘pthththth’. Dunno why, it just does. Hey, I didn't make up the rules, here!

Peter came to me this afternoon wanting to get at it right away. By "get at it" I mean, of course, getting the blog started. Being Peter, though, I know I will beat him to posting. Firstly, because his blog has flatlined since about Christmas. It will take some serious CPR (Copious Proofreading n' Re-writing) to get him anywhere near a new post. Secondly, he takes the words "free time" very seriously and rarely gets anything of merit accomplished while he's enjoying these precious moments. Currently, he is playing some sort of heroically-titled WW2 game. "Soles of Justice?" "Mettle of Honour?" "Brave to the Grave?" I dunno, they all sound so much like something George W. would say.

Anyhow, this leads me to Peter's first observation about me which is, in his words:

You always have to feel like you're being useful.

I'd even take that one a step further. It's not only about me feeling like I'm being useful, I actually have to be useful. Accomplish stuff. Even in my "free time" I am accomplishing stuff. Like this blog. I am blogging. That is useful, right?
Anyhow, he's dead on.

Then he said something which I think is a huge compliment, mainly because I spend so much time agonizing over decisions in this department which has chewed up most of my "free time" for the last 4 months:

You have a good sense of aesthetic (ie. home decorating, garden design)

He concluded with an insight about me that I cannot even begin to explain:

You are a sucker for pugs and other fat animals in general.

Let's see... otters, pugs, tubby kitties. Yeah, I guess he's right on that one. I like my critters pudgy and fuzzy. Perhaps this stems from my childhood obsession with plush toys.

There. Mission complete. A whole blog written in the amount of time it took Peter's little computer-soldiers to burn down an enemy barracks. Snap to it, Private Tyrrell, the web is waiting!

Hmmmm... who shall I pick on? This is a tricky one. I know lots of bloggers, but not many of them are couples who blog. I will pick on Joanna and Ranjit. Tag, you're it!

When Evvy was 10 months old.

2008-07-01T20:20:00.000-07:00

I wrote this way back when and forgot to post it! Oops! Well, here comes 2 months worth of updates on Evvy!

June 30, 2008: From crawling to standing, Evvy is quickly gaining balance and mobility.

She is crawling as quick as her chubby thighs can take her and pulling herself up on everything (and everyone) she can reach. There have been a lot of head bonkings (and head-bonking related tears) as she has learned how to get up and sit back down more gracefully. She is now standing up on her own for a few seconds at a time and is able to move around furniture on her feet. Perhaps she will be walking by the time she's a year old!

Evvy has lots of new sounds this month - some of her favourites: "gee-gee" "blab" and "mmmah" (which I think means "Mao"). She still squeals and squeaks, and "oh" and "ah" remain her preferred vowels, but I am glad to hear a variety in her babbling vocab.

She likes to wrinkle up her nose and sniffle - I believe this comes from me trying to teach her to smell flowers, which are among her favourite things to touch and hold (and occasionally shred). Also, there's the waving. We've taught her to wave bye-bye, but she hasn't quite narrowed it down to the appropriate times. All she knows is when she waves, she usually gets attention and often waving in response. She makes friends all over the place: in supermarkets, in restaurants, at the library. Speaking of which, our local library is a wonderful place for kids and only a short walk away, so we make frequent trips there.

Evvy loves books and bedtime stories (who doesn't). She likes her Touch n' Feel farm animals book and bug book the best. We read books on the potty, too, helping to improve the overall bathroom experience.

The quest for independence has already taken hold - our little one is busy learning to do things on her own. Because she no longer wants to be spoon-fed, most meals consist of finger foods and the resulting mess of such foods. My food prep methods have changed along with her eating habits. I've been busy boiling, cubing and freezing fruit and veggies. I've baked bread, loaves and muffins with lots of healthy ingredients. I cook up brown rice in chicken broth and whole wheat pasta to be dipped in pureed yams or squash. I make sticky balls out of rice cereal and pureed pear.

In general, she eats most of these things, as well as bits and pieces of whatever we're having for dinner. She does not like meat yet, but I can get her to eat kidney beans and the odd bowl of plain yogurt with fruit. She also still takes about 20 ounces of formula a day, for protein and fats.

Bedtime is at 8:00pm these days, preceded by our usual bedtime routine: bath, jammies, storytime (with dada is best), brush teeth, night-nights and boppy. We still use our little glowing night light man and our white noise machine. Both of which come with us when we travel.

Evvy remains very social and outgoing. She hasn't really hit a shy phase yet and has no separation anxiety to speak of. That may change, though.

I am enjoying being a stay-at-home mom right now and have started to think (with regret) about going back to work part-time. I still have the whole summer to enjoy being home with Evvy exclusively, so I will try not to think about all that yet!

Pictures to come...

May and June photos

2008-06-13T09:22:00.001-07:00

Just posted some new photos from May June on my Web Albums site. I have yet to capture a photo of Evvy standing up (which she does all the time now) or crawling, because usually I'm tooo busy trying to catch her or chase her! I will work on that for this week!

http://picasaweb.google.com/ripplebliss/Evvy910Months

This month so far has been pretty good. Life still revolves around the new house. We got brand new windows and back dooors, as well as some shiny new countertops. I've been re-covering some furniture and sorting the last of our garage sale items. We've gotten some more gardening and landscaping done, during the rare sunny days. I'm pretty determined to get through my DIY home checklist before I head back to work in September. Something tells me I won't be getting nearly as much done once I'm working!

Evvy and I both fighting a cold, which we've passed on to Peter (oops!). Noses are running like faucets around here and much fuss is made when I try to wipe up snotty little cheeks and chin.

Peter has been working very, very hard this month and he'll be away for the majority of next week and the one after, so I'm trying to prep myself ahead of time for the lack of any major accomplishments. Now that Evvy is fully mobile and determined to learn to walk, I can't leave her unwatched for more than a second! But more on that at the end of the month...

Evvy is 9 months old.

2008-05-25T11:36:00.000-07:00

Yay! My 9-month post is actually EARLY!

Just when I think she couldn't get any cuter, my little puff-pastry learns to say "Mama". Well, it's more like "Um - mum!" and it's only when she's upset that I'm out of the room, but still. She can also say "moo" for a cow, which I discovered while she was watching her Baby McDonald DVD. I'm sure she's trying to say some other things, too, I just don't know what they are yet.

Yes, I do let her watch Baby Einstein DVDs. Only one a day though (they're about 20 minutes long) and not in an attempt to make her smarter, either. Nuh-uh. It's just a way to distract her while I try to clean the kitchen or take a shower. Works like a charm. She likes the ones about people and animals the best, although there's this one spot in the Baby Davinci DVD (which is all about body parts) that she hates. The little monkey puppet "sculpts" a blob of clay into the face of a baby. She's really scared of the resulting sculpture and cries every time it is revealed. I don't blame her, it's hideously ugly and gives me nightmares, too.

Anyhow. I figure all the reading and talking we do with her should balance out any ill effects that exposing her to DVDs might have.

So, what else is new. Well, (maternal heart swelling with pride) she now poops in the potty.

(Pause to accomodate reactions of awe and admiration)

Yes, my child IS a genius!

Well, actually it's all about the timing. She prefers to perform her bodily functions with her diapers off, and will "hold it" for a few minutes until she's bare-bummed on the changetable, so I knew she'd probably get the hang of it pretty quickly. When she puts on her "poop face" I just start telling her to hold it until we get on the potty. I whip off the diaper, sit behind her, so she's on the front of the seat and, well, completes her business. I'm pretty pleased she's caught on, and I always give her lots of praise. She seems to enjoy it, so I guess we're onto something.

Moving on to more dinner-table-friendly topics:
She's eating more things with her fingers these days. Cheese is her #1 favourite treat, but she also enjoys roasted yams, bananas, well-cooked rice, organic rice krispies, special baby muffins, baked apples and rice cereal balls.
Evvy loves yogurt, too. Especially mixed with pureed pear or peach. Beats the pants off oatmeal cereal with formula, I guess.

I also discovered these freeze-dried bananas and strawberries. Why don't they make these things for adults? Yum, yum!

This weekend I plan on baking her some Baby Biscotti. Seriously. Somebody should market this. I discovered that teething biscuit recipes are really close to biscotti recipes. Makes sense, they both turn out hard as a rock, right. Well, I don't have the time or baking skill to sell these, but some designer baby food company should start marketing them. That and baby milk frothers. Then all the designer babies could have a double, extra-frothy, extra-cream, warm, bottled latte with a pumpkin Baby Biscotti while their designer mommies enjoy their Venti, soy, non-fat, no-whip, two-pump, extra-hot caramel macchiato.

So, what else is Evvy up to these days?

It has taken her most of this month and lots of encouragement, but Evvy has finally figured out how to crawl! It's still slow going right now, but childproofing is already well under way. She's a pro at sitting up on her own now and is pulling herself up to a kneeling position. I predict she'll be able to pull up to standing by the end of June. Also, she slithers backwards like a champ.

Turns out that Evvy is a dog person. Sure, she likes Mao, but he does not elicit the enthusiastic response she gives when a doggy is spotted. She loves to look at them in books, to pet them and to feel them lick her hands and face. She loves it when Peter pretends to be a dog. He pants and barks and tries to lick her face. The cutest thing is that she pretends to be a doggy and licks daddy's face, too!

Evvy loves eating out and people-watching at restaurants. Every time we take her out to eat she has an absolute ball entertaining the other diners. She flaps her toys up and down, grins, squeals, makes her "Oh!" face and puts on a show. It's a nice stage she's in right now. She's not old enough to go running around the restaurant yet, but old enough to sit in the high chair and play with her toys.

She sleeps through the night on and off now and is usually up at 5am, chipper as a bird. It would take about ten gallons of espresso to make Peter that chipper in the morning. He's about as chipper as a walrus with a tusk-ache.

We're getting the windows replaced at the end of this week and I'm planning on getting some pull-down blinds. Hopefully these changes will reduce the morning light and bird chirping so that she can sleep in a bit longer.

We have all had a busy month, but a good one. I've almost reached the end of unpacking and the main floor is nearly painted. There are projects on the go and people to visit. The weather is getting better and there have been some gorgeous evenings out on the deck. Evvy has been healthy and happy this month, and I am feeling more healthy and happy too.

The Nestling

2008-05-13T19:59:00.000-07:00

Our experience being landlords has, thus far, been pretty predictable. There's the good, the bad and the ugly. Our tenants are good, no, GREAT! A mom and her 8-year-old daughter and her long-term boyfriend, who seems to be in it for the long haul. They are really friendly, neat enough and responsible about paying the rent. Of course, the suite was constructed rather hastily by some previous owner who wanted rental income ASAP. This means some corners were cut.

Our tenants emailed us last week saying that their faucet was leaking. Leaking would be an understatement. The spout of the faucet (circa 1970) split down the side and was gushing water in a long, thin jet every time it was turned on. That had to be replaced. No probalo. That's what being a landlord is all about.

Then their dryer went kaputt. Called Doug the Dependable Dryer Guy and he repaired it to the tune of $300 (expensive, I know, but cheaper than a new dryer). He then announced that the dryer was broken because the vent pipe was all clogged. This would be because whoever installed the vent pipe used this cheap plastic crap that clogs easily. We were sure that we'd have to cut out some drywall to replace the pipe, but the whole downstairs bathroom (the ugly) needs gutting due to some genius who put linoleum in the shower instead of tile (again with the cheaping out and cutting corners). We didn't want to replace the dryer pipe it until it was time for the bathroom reno. So Peter got his dad's pipe snake and went about unclogging the pipe as best he could.

This is how we found the nestling. She was hopping around, mostly fluff, under the dryer vent, which happens to be directly under the gable vent in our house, a prime nesting site for sparrows. This little sparrow somehow took a plunge and survived. Not enough feathers to make a good go of flying, we knew we'd have to put her back in her nest in order for her to have any chance of survival. Her parents were still feeding her, but she was certainly alarmed, hopping about with her big yellow beak wide open. Very tiny and very cute.

We didn't have a ladder, so after inquiring at our neighbour's to no avail, Peter retrieved his dad's ladder and carefully caught the little peeping nestling in a plastic plant pot lined with a clean rag and climbed the ladder to put her back in her nest. Our plan worked and she hopped right back through the gable vent to her home. Needless to say, this made my day. Not only did I keep my own little fluffy-headed nestling all safe, warm and fed, but I also helped some other creature's nestling back to its loving parents. Feels good to be alive!

Rachelle at 8 months.

2008-05-03T21:54:00.000-07:00

Although I have blogged here and there about being a mom, I haven't really revealed much about my own emotional journey during the past 8 months. I guess this is primarily because I have defined myself by my role in raising Evvy, which has been all-consuming in more ways than one. It makes my own life, interests and emotions seem inconsequential in comparison.

It is also because I have trouble admiting to my own weaknesses and shortcomings and don't like people worrying about me, tiptoeing around me or seeing me as a victim in any way. I haven't really talked in-depth about my emotional struggles except to Peter and some medical professionals, but now that things are getting much better, I think it's time for me to blog a bit about things I figured were better left un-blogged.

Motherhood took me by storm. The anticipation was palpable - I knew when and exactly how my baby would arrive - and I was scared to death about the process. The c-section was indeed a strange and terrifying experience for me, which culminated in the most incredible surge of happiness I've ever experienced. Then I entered an emotional roller-coaster which involved the usual copious hormone surges and the problems with nursing. Basically, the whole SNS, pumping, breastfeeding insanity took over the first 3 months of Evvy's existence and my main concern was feeding Evvy.

In a way being crazy-busy with struggling to nourish my baby kept me from thinking too much about how I was coping with my postpartum self. The changes in my body and emotions were almost incomprehensible. I certainly did not feel like my pregnant, or pre-pregnancy self.

I was up and down like a yo-yo. Sometimes I would look at Evvy and feel an aching love for her, other times I felt nothing at all. Yet other times, especially during the difficult nights, I wished I could just vanish. Someone more capable, better equipped than I could raise my child - and I thought about harming myself in order to escape the overwhelming panic that I felt. In the privacy of my own mind, I became constantly preoccupied with this and that and worried a lot about how Evvy was doing. Was she eating enough? Gaining weight? Sleeping enough and at the right times? I often felt impatient, restless or frustrated. But I figured that this was a part of being a new mom and assumed that it would pass with time.

I spent a lot of time talking myself down from my own self-grown tree of anxiety. Getting out for walks, being around friends and family and spending the odd moment on my own were things that I knew would help and most of the time they did. It was important to me to keep going - I'm not one to sit around feeling sorry for myself for very long.

On the surface, everything improved. Evvy got easier. Things smoothed out after a bumpy ride on the real-estate wagon. Around 6 months postpartum, Evvy had weaned herself. I had lost the rest of my baby weight, we had bought and sold our house(s) and we went on vacation.

Life *should* have been ideal, but I felt drained. Even during my Hawaii trip, I was worrying constantly, sleeping poorly and feeling panicky about the smallest things. I wanted my life, my body, my baby, my house to be perfect, felt like I needed things to be just right, RIGHT NOW and anything less was a shortcoming on my part.

In March, I didn't feel like being social or going to dance class anymore, even though I forced myself to put on my game face and proceed with my existence. Peter told me I was "inventing problems". I constantly felt like crying, "what is WRONG with me? Why am I not feeling normal again? My life is great, why can't I just relax and enjoy it?!"

At Evvy's appointment for her 6 month shots, the nurse came to see me and had me fill out a couple of questionnaires, then asked me some questions. She took me into her office and explained that she wanted me to see my doctor because I was showing many of the classic signs of postpartum anxiety disorder, a type of postpartum depression.

My first reaction was to take offense to this suggestion. I felt like I was being labeled a wimp. "Failure to cope with motherhood" was the first thing that came to mind. As the nurse started talking about how PPD works and affects new moms, I started nodding my head. She was describing EXACTLY what I felt.

She explained that many things can worsen or trigger PPD, including the change in hormones from weaning the baby and external stress, such as moving could generate. I soon felt a sense of relief, calm even. The knowledge that this emotional ball and chain I could not shake off was not my fault was somehow comforting.

I was reluctant to try medications, preferring instead to get some help through counselling, but with my doctor's encouragement, I agreed to take a very low-dose medicine which targets anxiety. I also attended a group called "moms who worry too much" for mothers with PPD and anxiety problems. I could relate to the ladies I met there and appreciated their honesty and humour when describing their own problems. I have also been seeing a counsellor who specializes in working with postpartum women. She gave me some strategies and assured me that when the medications "took the edge off" my anxiety I could start to implement them.

It took nearly 5 weeks for me to start feeling a difference, but slowly I began sleeping better and getting less wrapped up in whirling hurricanes of worry. Less obsessed with getting everything right. More patient with myself and others, especially Evvy. These days, I am finding that I can let things go easier, especially when I use some of the strategies I've been given.

Lately, I have been truly enjoying our new house. I am able to take things slower and feel pride in what I accoplish every day, even if it is only a little bit. I am able to stop and marvel at my child and how quickly she is learning. I am able to breathe when I feel worried or overwhelmed and wait for the feeling to pass. Soon I hope to have company over more regularly and get back into my dancing again. All in good time.

I wish I had possessed the courage to talk more about what I was going through when things were at their worst, but a part of me knew it was not normal and worried that even those I loved most would not understand, or would think I was being weak or dramatic. I know this isn't true, but that too was a part of the anxiety I was feeling. I know that many other women have been through PPD and will go through it in the future. Maybe even some women I know and love. I guess that's why I wrote this.

Motherhood is supposed to be this rosy, sparkly, glowing, happy experience. To admit that it is anything less or different makes me feel like a rotten mother, which seems unfair. After all, most valuable and important things in life are achieved through blood, sweat and tears. I'd like to think that motherhood is made real, is polished and burnished by the struggles involved. It may not be rosy, sparkly and glowing, but motherhood feels rare, rugged and beautiful like a desert flower.

Evvy at 7 - no- make that 8 months!

2008-05-03T21:05:00.000-07:00

Check out this month's selection of photos (from March and April)http://picasaweb.google.ca/ripplebliss

It's amazing to watch a personality grow from the tiny seed of a single smile to the tender but vibrant green of the first sprigs of spirit. Evvy is becoming more of a little individual every day. She has a dozen different smiles, each for a different occasion, my favourite being the little squinty ones she does when I blow raspberries on her tummy - the ones where I can glimpse her two sharp teeth, which started emerging around 7 months.

Evvy loves to entertain and to be entertained. She knows when we're being silly and loves to laugh at us, and herself. Peekaboo is popular these days and she has started "feeding" us things. She is constantly working her charms on random people out on our errands. I got a great deal on some wool rugs, thanks to her little gummy smile and happy squeaks, which knocked the socks off the owner of a carpet store. Glad to see her talents are already paying off!

Evvy still loves her jolly jumper. She is pretty wild in it now, and I've had to pad the door frames to prevent collisions. Sitting up is no problem for her, although she does still occasionally fall backwards and bonk her head, so I usually try to make sure she's sitting with her back to something soft.

She has been getting up on her hands and knees since about 7 months, but has only figured out how to scoot backwards. She's trying like crazy to locomote. I can see her little brain working, "I KNOW this is possible! Now how the heck does it work?!" Sometimes she gets frustrated from all the effort, especially when she ends up FURTHER from her toys than when she started. I know she'll get the hang of it soon and am only glad that it hasn't been in the last month, because of all the unpacking going on.

Evvy comes complete with some very adorable quirks. Sometime in the last 2 months, she has started doing "barnacle hands". When she wants something, or is interested in something, her little fingers start grasping, like the feathery appendages that barnacles use to feed. As well, ever since I remember, she has had a characteristic "poo face" that signals the final stages of digestion. Her little mouth becomes pursed into a flat line and stretches from ear to ear, while her eyebrows knit furiously. Kind of gross, I know, but SOOOO CUTE! Also, she has started making a little wide-eyed "Oh!" face like a startled orangutan when she wants to be silly.

She still loves exploring objects with her hands and has remarkable manual dexterity, turning things around and examining them from all angles. Shaking and banging objects together is also loads of fun, especially if they rattle. She can manipulate objects as small as a Rice Krispy, but, ironically, refuses to feed herself any edible small food particles and will only stick non-edible objects in her own mouth. Hmmm... not sure of the evolutionary advantage here...

Feeding became a bit of a power struggle during month 6-7. She would flat out refuse to eat more than 5 bites at a meal. The carrying on that ensued - I tell you!!! I finally figured out that what she wants is VARIETY! She likes to taste a little bit of this and a little bit of that during a meal and will refuse to eat 3 spoonfuls of the same substance in a row, so I put 3 or 4 blobs in the bowl and alternate. She likes most veggies now, except green beans (but honestly, the pureed ones are pretty gross!) Bananas, pears and peaches are a hit for dessert. Mashed Banavocado (exactly what it sounds like) is also a treat. Never tried it? You're missing out!

She is now eating 3 meals a day plus about 20 ounces of formula and a couple of little snacks, including organic rice crisps, gouda cheese, freeze-dried fruit and baby mum-mums. I am trying to vary her diet and have introduced yogurt, mashed foods and some finger foods. She's still not doing well with the mashed stuff and usually gags on it, but I'm continuing to offer it from time to time. She is now drinking up to 7 ounces of a bottle at a time, but only before naps and bedtime.

Sleeping is, well, not terrible. Except when she was teething, which involved frequent night wakings, tummy trouble, pain and vomiting (can't wait 'til those upper incisors poke through...) These days she goes down at 8pm. Peter gives her a "dream feed" at around 10:30 and then she generally sleeps until between 3 and 4am, when she will take a whole bottle. At 6am she's restless and hard to settle, but still drowsy and not hungry. I often bring her into bed with us where I can sometimes coax her into sleeping for another hour or so. I know that I could probably eliminate that 3-4am feed, and would really like to, but need to marshal my nerves before embarking on this last stage of sleep training.

My favourite moments with Evvy are when she is all snuggly after waking from a long nap. I am greeted by a beaming grin and two little reaching arms (complete with barnacle hands), inviting me to pick her up.
She loves to hold her special blanket and burrow her nose into my neck, making happy little "hmmmm" sounds.
We open her curtains together to look outside and I tell her about the weather, the birds and what's growing in the garden. She listens and looks at me, then presses her hands against the window and looks out.
These moments I say a little prayer of thanks because I could not imagine life without her. These moments, I breathe in the delicious smell of her fuzzy little head and hope that the incredible bond we share will weather the test of teenagehood!

Evvy is 6 months old!

2008-03-16T17:43:00.000-07:00

(This post is up 16 days late, due to our Hawaii vacation.)

6 months of life with a turtle-beaked, sweet-cheeked, squeaky-squeak! I barely recognize the little 7 ½ pound wonder that was plucked out of my belly half a year ago. Everyone told me I would feel this way and they were right: time flies when you’re watching a child grow. And grow she has. At 18 pounds, Evvy is learning to wiggle about in the world and learning how to take up more space. Good thing we’ve got some coming!

This has been a big, important busy month for our whole little family. House shopping, house cleaning, house selling and then a big trip to Maui! Considering all the upheaval around here, Evvy has been remarkably adaptable and happy.

February started out on the crazy side. Between looking for houses and preparing our own for sale, I was constantly busy and she often had to play independently. She sure let me know when she was tired of entertaining herself. All that play time on the floor did really improve her locomotion skills. Although she is not yet crawling, she can roll around like the dickens and has figured out how to creep and wiggle along both forward and backwards.

Evvy has been exploring the tactile and her little fingers are getting more dextrous. She is fixated on touching, holding and manipulating anything she sees – particularly if it is NOT a toy. My hair continues to be confined to a ponytail and I don’t dare wear any baubles on my ears or around my neck. In Hawaii, she loved touching all the different leaves and flowers, especially the bright hibiscus bushes. Also, she can now get her own soother into her mouth, with a bit of careful turning and manipulation.

I wish I could tell you what her favourite food is, but it seems to change on an almost daily basis. Some days she is all about the rice cereal and fruit, others it’s the veggies and chicken. On vacation, she pretty much refused to eat a full meal the whole time. Too much to see, I guess! True to her reputation, Evvy continues to be a less-than-enthusiastic eater. She sips on formula, rarely drinking more than 3 ounces at a go. This means, of course, that she wants her “boppy” every couple of hours, silly boo!

Sleeping is neither here or there. The only consistency is that she is waking during the night, it is just a matter of how many times and when. She is waking mainly because night time is her favourite time to eat. I’ve tried loading her up before bed, to no avail. She is a very spirited little one when it comes to rejecting food. She IS settling better at bedtime and nap times in general, though, which is an improvement. So I can GET her to bed no problem, but the STAYING asleep part is the trick.

Traveling went very well. I thought she’d be all out of sorts. I was so afraid that she would hate the plane rides, but Evvy was full of wonderful surprises and was an absolute pleasure to travel with. With her easy smiles and curious personality she charmed everyone we came into contact with from ticketing agents to snorkel salespeople to fellow airplane passengers.

When we arrived, it was late at night and we all crashed. Evvy was up bright and early the next morning, serenaded by the birds at dawn. The next few days were spent exploring her new world. At first, I think she was put off by the heat, humidity and sunshine. A 2-hour time change did not help her routine any, but we worked things out with an early bedtime. The beach was a bit much for her with all the sunshine and crashing of waves. She clung like a limpet every time we went to the shore for the first few days. Eventually she got over her terror enough to dip her toes into the ocean. The swimming pool, however, was popular from the start. She also enjoyed getting to know her own bare arms, legs and feet, although they had to constantly be slathered with sunscreen.

Coming home on the red-eye was remarkably uneventful. Evvy slept pretty much the whole way home; more than I can say for Peter and I! We are now back and getting prepared for the big move – Evvy’s next major life adjustment. I am imagining that my seven-month update will be a bit late as well!

Home at last.

2008-02-21T11:14:00.000-08:00

I am moving just so that I can play with paint chips. Oh, and the extra thousand-odd square feet won’t hurt either. In any case I, or rather, We (the quartet of Tyrrell, Tyrrell, Tyrrell and Cat) are moving on April 1st to a new home close to the Gorge.

We’d been looking seriously since Christmas and scoping out listings since September.
Hoping to stay in lovely Fernwood, we kept an eye on the listings. Unfortunately there wasn’t much in our price range that would be suitable in our area. Most homes were 4 bedroom: 2 beds up and a suite downstairs. We needed at least 3 bedrooms at our immediate disposal. There were some lovely turn-of-the-century homes, but they were not very structurally sound and STILL out of our price range. We decided to widen our nets.

We saw a few places before putting an offer on a 1960s home in Gordon Head, which was in serious need of some updating. Well, we TRIED to put in an offer on it, but the sellers were playing games to the tune of constantly backing up the date that they were taking offers and pulling it off and on the market not once, but twice. The whole thing was rendered more frustrating because we had already paid to get an inspection done in an effort to make our offer more competitive. “Money,” I sigh, “down the toilet.”

We decided to look elsewhere, which was a bit difficult for me, seeing as how I was already mentally pulling up the green shag carpet, buffing the hardwood floors and renovating the kitchen. Seriously. I get attached to places very quickly.
In the end it was for the best because the house sold for 10,000 more than we would have been willing to pay for it. Good for whoever bought it.

During the next few weeks, I did some reconnoitering. I went a bit above our price limit to see if there were any suite-able (and suitable) homes. A dangerous and risky move, I know. Some promising properties had been on the market for awhile, but as one discovers with houses that have been on the market for awhile, there is always a deal breaker: location, size or complications involved in adding a suite. Cue more disappointment.

Skip to the part where we get back on the horse and scope out some truly squalid Gordon Head digs. I am talking pot-fumigated, beer-stained, bedsheet-curtained student slums.

“Take your shoes off?” I asked the hand-scrawled sign incredulously, “my SOCKS are worth more than all the flooring in this WHOLE rat’s nest!” In fact, rats are meticulously tidy creatures compared to students. Yes, and generally more industrious and useful to society too. Remember this post? Case in point.

Anyhow, we left those places to the predominantly Asian "Landlord Faction", which arrived in droves both before and after us. Hmmmm... Rental market a bit too hot around here. Maybe Gordon Head is not the place for us after all!

Thank goodness we stumbled on the little corner house on Parkview. A block from the Gorge Waterway, walking distance to the movies, library and Rec centre, located near plenty of parks – the neighbourhood is just what we’re looking for. The home itself, a late ‘30’s character piece. Yay for coved ceilings! It is in need of some upgrades and maintenance, but has a suite downstairs which is tenanted, so we won’t be up to our eyes in mortgage payments and can afford to do a few repairs. I think this place has some real potential to be a gem! I can’t wait to have friends and family over for dinner and games, now that we have more space!

Now our own beloved home is on the market. I’m hoping for a quick sale (you know me, not one for patience) but I also recognize that we need to get a fair price for our home, because it has been our investment and it is a kickin’ little house. Besides, we can use every extra cent to put towards getting our new place fixed up... which brings me to the paint chips.

Could picking out paint colours be any more fun? I am like a kid in a candy shop, here!

O.K. For the living and dining rooms: Benjamin Moore York Harbour Yellow – similar to what we’ve got for most of our home right now.
Northern Fire Red in the kitchen, (a dark, ruddy terra-cotta) with Bavarian Cream cabinets.
Georgian Green (an olivey sage) for the hallways and den.
Evvy’s room will be Buttermilk and Indian summer (a dusty peach) with fresh Lemon Grass accents.
The outside? Georgian green for the main part, Tate olive for the foundation and stairs and Albescent white for the windows with Hot Apple Spice Red for the accents and door. Yummy!

If only painting were as quick and easy as picking out the colours!

Kudos to kitty.

2008-02-21T11:12:00.000-08:00

I am impressed with Mao. Considering how much we used to dote on him before Evvy came along, he has adapted quite nicely to being more or less ignored. Well, maybe not ignored so much as overlooked. His persistence and assertiveness is pretty formidable, though, so he still gets his daily doses of food and affection. Just not quite so much cuddling and conversation. I used to talk to my furry adoptive son quite a bit during my days at home, now I’m busy babbling to my tousled more-or-less furless daughter.

Evvy has taken quite a shine to Mao over the past month. She will watch him and smile at him as he walks by. She really like to “pet” him (with my assistance, naturally) – which consists of touching and grabbing handfuls of his fur, and sometimes his ears or whiskers if I’m not quick enough to correct her. “Be gentle with kitty!” I entreat my little peach. “Be gentle with the baby!” I plead to my clawed cat. For the time being, Mao is very patient with Evvy’s budding curiosity. I think he is just willing to take whatever attention he can get. All in all, this is going much better than I expected!

Evvy is 5 months old!

2008-01-25T20:46:00.001-08:00

This month has been a big one in terms of establishing, adjusting and occasionally obliterating routines.

At 14 pounds, 15 ounces Evvy is set to double her birthweight by 6 months, right on schedule! She has nice, chubby little thighs, which I counsel her to enjoy every day, cause 20 years from now she will start cursing any remnants of chub remaining in the thigh region.

I'm not sure how she manages to gain weight these days. She is the most distractable thing while eating. She used to just glom on and breastfeed, taking the occasional pause or squirming when she needed to burp. I am currently wishing I had periscopes for nipples. If there are any, and I mean ANY (lights, music, voices, movement) distractions, she is eager to turn her head and check them out while nursing. Not the best time to practise multi-tasking, but she insists on trying. Those little paws of hers sure like to get in the way, too!

Some things have remained consistent this month:

Kiddo still loves her jolly jumper and is doing some tap dancing and more aggressive bouncing in it.
She's still into bath time and getting her diaper changed.
The cat has been dying for some industrial-strength ear protection as Evvy continues to practise her patented squeaking.
She has grown yet more hair, which is blond, fine, fuzzy and straight.
And finally, she is still a very happy camper when well rested and fed.

Some new things this month:

Feet, feet, feet!She has discovered them and finds them fascinating. She likes to grab them, but they still have not made it into the mouth.

Food, food, food! Just to mark her 5 month anniversary of existence and to try to make her more excited about eating, I decided to experiment with a little brown rice pablum. I know that, strictly speaking these days, you're supposed to wait until 6 months to try solids, but she shows all signs of being ready and I'm not planning on offering her a whole lot of variety this month. Maybe some oat pablum and sweet potatoes, but not much else. Anyhow, she seems to enjoy it, in a somewhat positively indifferent way, and I'm having fun scooping up the mess on her chin - and everywhere within a 2-foot radius, for that matter.

Occasional soother use! She likes the gumdrops soothers that I ordered and will, with encouragement, take them. She is still fist-mashing and hasn't discovered her thumb yet.

Napping in crib! Consistency may be a bit dull and restrictive, but she now (on good days) will take 3 naps in her crib. She still needs to be swaddled and insists on the drapes being pulled, but at least she's not hooked on chest-sleeping anymore.

Hmmm. Since I managed to crib-train her in one month, maybe by next month I can get her to sleep without breastfeeding her (yes, folks, it's on to the next frontier!) She gets pretty upset when I am out at dance and Peter puts her to bed. It's simply because of his lack of boobs, I am sure. I think Peter's upset at that too.

I admit that developing routines and being consistent has been difficult. In a way, now that Evvy is napping 3 times a day and going to sleep at around 8 at night, it really restricts my activities. I'm pretty tied to home these days, but it's all for the best in the end. She is a way happier baby when she's in a routine, which makes me a way happier mommy.

That being said, sometimes everything goes out the window, like this past Monday through Wednesday. I went to dance class Monday night and Peter put her to sleep (with much fussing). I guess this made her upset and threw something off, so she was up every hour that night, wouldn't nap on Tuesday (Peter left for Vancouver overnight) and that night wouldn't sleep again. She was bawling, I was bawling and barely able to think.(I do very poorly when sleep-deprived) Beanie came out on Wednesday to rescue me and I got enough sleep to maintain basic brain function. Things have improved a bit since then, but she still isn't quite back to the way she used to be. I blame it on the full moon.

I always figured that babies were like scientific experiments. If you repeat the procedure with all variables being the same, you should get the same result every time. Not so. Evvy is a spirited little being and she's got her own thing going on, despite what I do, or don't do. Every day is a different experiment and the best part of that diversity is seeing what surprises she has in store.

Small blessings.

2008-01-15T11:58:00.000-08:00

Evvy has now been napping for almost 2 hours. In her crib. While this is not exactly consistent (as they say in the weight loss program ads "results are not typical) it is an indicator that things are going in the right direction.

Her new napping schedule, far from motivating me to be more on top of my housework, has given me time to pursue a simple pleasure I've been missing for going on 4 1/2 months. The solace of a good book. I borrowed several books on CD from the library during the past few months, but I prefer reading.

I am happily immersed in Three Cups of Tea, the story of Greg Mortenson>. His failed attempt at climbing K2 led him to building schools in impoverished Balistan. This is a great story that has, for once, an uplifting message to share about the northern muslim world.
This book was recommended to me by my Auntie Dorothy during our Christmas CD and Book exchange this year (a great tradition I'd like to see continued!)

Better count my blessings and get a few more pages in - this nap won't last forever :)

Evvy is 4 months old!

2007-12-29T13:02:00.000-08:00

This month has been all about the hands.
Evvy has caught on to reaching and grabbing now and is able to drag all manner of inedible object into her mouth. She's still not doing "precision strikes" on things she wants, but she is getting to the point now where she can focus in on something and get a firm grasp on it after a couple of attempts. My hair, when not firmly secured in ponytail, is popular as are any necklaces I decide to wear. She has not yet succeeded in ripping out my nose stud, but has come close a few times, more by accident than on purpose!

Evvy also discovered laughter half way through the month. She will now giggle and squeak together when excited about someone or something. All in all, when she's had a decent nap, a good feeding and a diaper change, she's a very happy little girl and quite the charmer!

She's definitely growing and now fits into all of her 3-6 month clothes and is wearing 6 month pyjamas. She's also started to grow a bit more hair. It's still fine, blonde and fuzzy, but there's more of it now. All the better for the winter months.

Her first Christmas went well - lots of attention from grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles! It has been great spending time at Grammie and Grandpa's place in Coquitlam and seeing family and friends that we don't get to visit with as often as we'd like to. We had a nice visit with Paul and Tracey and their little ones, Owen (2 yrs) and sweet little Rylee (2 1/2 months). Bill and Kym also showed up with Bridget (5 1/2 months), who wins the cute n' chubby contest by a long shot!

Evvy enjoys meeting new people. She is also fascinated by her new toys and books. Each one has a different feel and taste which is fun for her to experience. We will have to dole them out one at a time to keep her excited for the next few weeks.

We're working on sitting up now. Evvy likes to be propped up so that she can play with toys and see things around her. The car seat is an unpopular way to do this, but I got her a Bumbo chair and she seems to enjoy sitting and playing in it.

Feeding continues to go well. She's plumping up nicely and now weighs about. She is a happy little nurser now, but she has had some gas problems on and off which have caused us all some grief. With some patience, rocking and Tylenol, they can be brought under control. She's also had a head cold and cough all month.

The larger challenge is getting her down for a nap. Evvy is still very resistant to napping in her crib. Or anywhere but on the chest of a warm, immobile body. The silly little goose gets herself worked into a right frenzy if she is put down while sleeping. Trying to break her of this habit has been frustrating and heartbreaking and, so far, has not worked particularly well. I've tried warm water bottles, swaddling, white noise all the tricks, but she's got this little radar that goes of if she's not sleeping ON someone!

I know that she will settle into some kind of routine eventually, I'd just like to think that it will be sooner, rather than later! Any tricks or tips out there to encourage a relucatant napper? I will take any advice that comes my way, at this point!

Well, tonight Evvy enters the second year of her existence and I hope that 2008 is a wonderful one for her. She has changed so much already, I can't wait to see what the next year will bring!

An unusual day.

2007-12-20T16:03:00.000-08:00

On your typical day things sort of roll along. Approximately according to some sort of schedule. For comparison's sake I will relate to you a portion of the average day. La-dee-dum and so forth:

8:30am: Wake up, feed Evvy, change Evvy, interact with Evvy.

--- EVVY MOOD = HAPPY! ---

10:00am: Put Evvy in bouncy chair with dangly toys and attempt to change, groom and feed self while she is temporarily amused.

--- EVVY MOOD = FUSSY ---

10:30am: Soothe Evvy. Put Evvy on blanket in kitchen to play.

--- EVVY MOOD = TEMPORARILY PLACATED ---

11:00am: Clean messy kitchen, throw in laundry. Coo/sing/make animal noises boisterously while completing these tasks in an attempt to keep infant amused. Plan to leave the house sometime today. Now, where should we go? What needs to be done? Oh darn! It's already...

12:00 noon!

--- EVVY MOOD = HUNGRY and SLEEPY ---

Feed Evvy, change Evvy, try to get Evvy down for a nap. Grab some lunch. Check email and phone messages, prepare to go out for walk/running errands/visit/appointment etc.

--- EVVY MOOD = READY FOR ACTION! ---

1:30pm: OK! Let's leave the house!
2:00pm: Actually leaving the house.

and so on and so forth...

On Monday, the whole day went more like:

Wake up.

--- EVVY MOOD - SCREAMING FRANTICALLY ---

Feed Evvy.

--- EVVY MOOD - SCREAMING FRANTICALLY ---

Change Evvy.

--- EVVY MOOD - SCREAMING FRANTICALLY ---

Soothe Evvy.

--- EVVY MOOD - SCREAMING FRANTICALLY ---

Repeat over and over and over again.

I knew there was something wrong. She was clearly in some sort of pain. I tried all my tricks, Peter tried all his, but nothing worked. Poor kid was inconsolable and so was I. Could this be an ear infection? It was time to call in the big guns, so we took her to the clinic Monday eve. Lucky us, we got the indecisive (and possibly visually impaired) Doctor who sent us to Emerg.

3 and 1/2 boring hours and a few trauma victims later we saw Doctor #2 who checked Evvy out head to toe. She did not have an ear infection. It was most likely some digestive/intestinal problem which had eased during our wait in the hospital.
A fussy Tuesday on Tylenol and Evvy's pain passed, along with a particularly thick n' frothy poop on Wednesday morning. Now the little squirt is fine. Back to normal. As if Monday and Tuesday never happened. I am, of course, thankful for her good health.

I, however, am two days behind in laundry, grooming, Christmas shopping and errands. If you see a sasquatch slumping to the mall in a green coat and hat, it's just me.

Evvy is 3 months old!

2007-11-30T18:22:00.000-08:00

Little Evvy is growing like a weed. A very cute weed. The non-invasive pretty little flowering kind that you'd never want to pluck.

Evvy has made some remarkable accomplishments this month. Her patented Happy Squeak has risen in both volume and pitch by about 200% this quarter. Quite the achievement for someone with lungs as long as your pinky finger! Her favourite sound, other than the squeaking is "eau" like the French word for water. Evvy does love the bathtub... She has her chatty times on the change table and hangin' out with me and Peter in the evenings.

As of 2 1/2 months, she has been standing up (with assistance, of course!) Sometimes she does the "stiff baby" when she doesn't fancy being put in her car seat. Her head control is getting much better and she's able to look around on her own without all that newborn floppiness.

I put her in the Jolly Jumper this week and she absolutely loved it. She's still a little young, so rather than jumping, she sort of bounces from side to side and flaps around. She is batting things with her hands, but has yet to look and grab something. It's coming soon, though! She loves chewing on her fist, and still doesn't really take a soother, just daddy's finger.

HREF='http://bp0.blogger.com/_rcqiAqkBhKs/R1iGRFjakhI/AAAAAAAAATA/8kC2zx6dzGo/s1600-h/DSC_4665.JPG'>

And on the Eating and Sleeping Front...

Our little sweet pea is getting more efficient at breastfeeding. FINALLY! I'm able to avoid supplementing with the bottle for most morning and overnight feeds. She's gaining weight really well and is quickly growing out of her 3-month sleepers.

She usually has 2 longer naps each day, with a short one in between. She still does not nap in her crib during the day, which Grammy thinks is an Absolute Travesty. I guess we just never got her into the habit, since Peter can just snuggle with her in the Baby Hawk while she's working. I admit, though, when Peter's not around, it makes it a tad more difficult for me to get anything done. Maybe we'll try to train her out of the habit this month.

At night, she has slept for up to 5 hours at a time. It's usually more like 4, though. Putting her down to bed can be hard. She fights falling asleep like crazy! She tends to be all awake in the evenings and will go down typically between 11pm and midnight. With 2 wake-ups, she will sleep until about 8am. I'd love to back that bedtime up to 10pm and get her onto some kind of evening routine. She had a nasty cold this month, which made routine-making a bit tricky.

Being a mom is getting better and better as I interact more with Evvy. I'm getting to know her unique little personality. She's sweet, social, active and opinionated and only 3 months old! This is starting to be fun...

Little Squeeka at 9 weeks (and counting)

2007-11-03T17:56:00.000-07:00

Evangeline is now 9 weeks old!

Although a lightweight for her age, at a mere 11 pounds*, she is growing out of her tiny sleepers and into less-tiny ones - which is great because I have some really cute 3-month clothes! And so it goes, from less tiny to even less tiny and soon she will just be small, or wee if you prefer. Feeding is still our daily challenge, and some days it's easier than others. She's just not an eater!

"So, what can she do?" you ask. Well, the list goes on and on.

She can make way more facial expressions now, which is great because now we get more specific feedback. This makes the whole parenting thing way easier. Before it was content/miserable. Now it runs the gamete from thrilled to ornery. She smiles and giggles when entertained and especially likes funny faces. Her daddy is really good at eliciting squeals of happiness with his funny rubbery mug and loud raspberries.

The bathtub and change table are two of her favourite places when she's awake because she has our undivided attention. That, and her bum is naked and gets cleaned for her. Who wouldn't like that? Also, her bodily functions can explode unhindered by a diaper in both locales. She pees regularly on the change table (especially at 2am when I am still half-asleep) and made a nice, frothy bathtub poop this past week, which was not so fun for us, but a riot for her!

Evvy has started chatting a bit. She's not so big on consonants (who is, though) but likes her vowels: mostly "oh" and "ah" in varying tones and pitches. Sometimes she talks to people, and sometimes to her books or a pattern on the wall.

Sleeping is going O.K.. At night, she will sleep (which means I will sleep) for a couple of 3-hour stretches between feeds. If I'm lucky I can squeeze another hour out of her in the early morning, then I'm up for the day. I can't wait until she's sleeping for 5 hours at a time. I still feel as though I'm running on empty most days. During the daytime, she naps very soundly for an hour at a time, when bundled up in a wrap or carrier and taken out for a walk in the fresh fall air.

I've started her on cloth diapers now and she is wearing them for the most part, except when I figure there is a poop imminently arriving, which is every two days or so. They're a bit more bulky, but work well. I've been using the Bella Bottoms one size diapers and Sandy's Diapers by Mother-ease I also have some Mother-ease one size diapers, but she's a bit small for those still.

I am doing better each month. I can chalk it up to experience and the natural healing process. The pregnancy weight is peeling off slowly, helped by breastfeeding, my dietary restrictions and daily walks. I still have a few months to go before I'll be fitting into my pre-pregnancy jeans, though, which I find frustrating.

I'm back doing belly dance on Monday nights and will probably start teaching beginner dance classes in January one or two nights a week. I have no time to do knitting or work on my costumes at present, but I have been able to spend time each day with friends or family.

Peter manages to work with me and Evvy at home. She doesn't fuss much and I try to stay out of his hair. There is no doubt that we need an extra room, though. Evvy still sleeps in our bedroom and needs her own room ASAP. Guess that means we're thinking about moving come the springtime!

* Most 2-month-olds we've encountered are about 12 pounds or more.

Drums in the deep.

2007-10-20T15:34:00.000-07:00

Peter and I attended a tabla workshop with Issam Houshan last weekend. He is a very famous and accomplished drummer in the Middle-Eastern style and it was a great experience to learn even the small amount of technique we were able to cover in the 3 hours we spent under his instruction.
The sounds he's able to get out of his drum were just amazing! Everything from deep, rich reverberating "doums" to ear-splitting sharp "teks". I actually own a smaller size of the exact same drum that he uses for performances: the Issam Signature Doumbek. My only complaint about the workshop was that, with 40-odd drummers in the room, it was difficult to hear what kind of a sound I was making as we all simultaneously practiced the rhythms.
So I picked up the drum when I got home and gave it a whirl. Turns out when I play the tabla, it sounds like I'm beating on a cardboard box with oven mitts on.

Seems I have some work to do before taking my show on the road!

I know it's all about the pictures...

2007-10-05T11:54:00.000-07:00

But first a quick update:
Evvy is now 5 weeks old and weighs just over 9 pounds. Feeding still has its challenges, but she will now sleep for 2 3-hour blocks a night (with a 2-hour wakeful period in between at around 1:00am...)

She is practicing holding her head up (tummy time) and she can now follow objects and people with her eyes. She's started smiling, too, though it's mostly still at random things and situations.

She makes all sorts of sounds, most of which do not bear any resemblance to linguistic-type noises - but she does come out with the odd "ah!"

On with the pictures!

The most popular guy in the house.

Tummy time is fun!

Meet the happy naked baby.

Two steps forward...

2007-09-24T11:56:00.000-07:00

Cold naked baby - 2 1/2 weeks old.

Evvy wearing Grandma T's very cool knitted sweater. - 3 weeks old.

Evvy snuggled in the sling. - 2 weeks old.

Evvy, Granmmy and I (a bit worn out today!) - 2 weeks old.

Here is a very quick one-handed between-feeding update:

Still getting used to the new mom thing. Evvy is generally great, but the hours between midnight and 3am remain insane. Or rather I remain insane during those hours!
Feeding troubleshooting continues, but Evvy seems to be gaining weight, between the breast, the SNS and the newly introduced Bottle o' Breastmilk, administered by daddy. Feeding, pumping, sterilizing and diaper changes - there's not time to do much else, so the housework is lagging terribly as is any semblance of my former life. My kingdom for a clean bathroom!

Some high points this weekend: Alice-mom and Shannon came by to bake me some muffins - essential for snacking! We also enjoyed a wonderful dinner at the Milligans' the other night. A welcome break from our usual scramble-together-whatever's-handy routine. We also went for a walk in Beacon Hill park the other day, which was nice.

I am trying to apply for a passport for Evvy and I. It's an annoying and time consuming process WITHOUT an infant, so you can only imagine the snail's pace at which I travel on the "road to passport". I have the forms almost filled out now, but need to get pictures and a guarantor. Pictures should be a challenge. Evvy needs to have her eyes open and a "neutral expression" on her face. Should be a challenge!

How to plump up a baby.

2007-09-09T13:12:00.000-07:00

Things are pretty good today. Evvy is sleeping in a maya-wrap* snuggled against my chest and making "meh-meh" sounds of contentment after a particularly hearty feed.

She is gaining weight steadily after having lost 10%+ of her body weight (she was down to 6 pounds 13 ounces from her 7 pounds 10 birth weight). We were getting pretty worried there. She was really lethargic due to lack of energy and would fall asleep while feeding, which meant she had yet less energy. She was fussy all night because her tummy was never quite full and my milk supply was getting lower.

The turning point was when we started supplementing with a SNS, or supplementary nursing system. Basically, the container hangs around my neck and the two tiny tubes are taped onto the breasts so that the baby sucks on them at the same time as she sucks on the nipple. At first, we had to supplement with formula, simply because I could not pump enough between feeds, but now it's mostly breast milk going in the bottle. This means she gets milk from me AND the SNS at the same time - double the output in half the time!

Feeding is still a time consuming process. It takes about 10 minutes for me to get set up, then I breastfeed her with the SNS for about 40 minutes (and daddy does a mid-feed diaper change), then I pump for about 20 minutes to get milk for the next feed, then I sterilize all the equipment for the next feed, which takes about 10 minutes. I then have about an hour and a half, depending on whether Evvy is awake or not, to get some sleep or get something accomplished.

I'm hoping, now that my milk supply has increased, that we can gradually phase out the SNS as she gains weight, strength and stamina. It's a bit of a complicated system and doesn't travel well, so I'm not really at liberty to go on any outings while using it.

Anyhow, Evvy is being weighed in on Monday and I can't wait to see if she's back to birth weight. I like my babies chubby!

* I will soon be doing a photo-blog post about the many ways to wear a baby.

Mama's got a new gig!

2007-09-06T08:17:00.000-07:00

Tuesday was the first day of school. I would have been busy doing many things, had I been going back to work this year; September startup is always a bustling time for teachers.

Still - the word "busy" has not ever been defined for me the way it is now.

I have this amazing little being - Evangeline. She eats and sleeps and breathes us. We are run off our feet by a tiny miracle.

I am enjoying a few moments of "free time" right now. Evvy is in a very comfy sling dozing across my chest as I type this. Mornings are mommy and baby time - 6am to 9. Daddy doesn't do mornings, so he gets to sleep in and does his late-night shift from 11pm to 2am as I get some not-optional shut-eye.

I learned very quickly that I am not a night owl:
No sleep and all baby makes mommy a crazy person.
No sleep and all baby makes mommy a CRAZY person.
NO sleep and ALL baby makes mommy... well you get the idea.

Some things are easy:
Being completely and utterly in love with my Evvy, for one.

OK. let's amend the previous statement - One thing is easy.

We have faced some serious challenges in the past few days involving breastfeeding and sleep/wake schedules(I say "we" because I'm the one with the boobs, but Peter's got to help wake up Evvy as she dozes off mid-feed and help keep me from bawling as Evvy latches on to the sore side).

I know we will get through them, and Evvy will start plumping up soon, but right now these problems loom very large in my mind. I am so thankful for the support and advice I've received from my doula, Heather and an amazing nurse, Annette, who dropped by yesterday. I honestly, really, really could not and would not be still breastfeeding without them.

Speaking of support, Peter is absolutely amazing. Boy did I pick the right guy to father my child! He is unflappable, dedicated and devoted to me and Evvy. From spending 4 nights "camping out" in my hospital room to changing diapers under the most grueling circumstances, the man is there for us. Can you feel the love?...tonight? Sorry. Hormones making me all mushy there.

I am so glad my mom's been around to help us with all the things we can't get to during the day. Which pretty much includes everything we normally do around the house. We would be starving and living in utter chaos were it not for her help making meals, cleaning up and taking her turn with the baby. I know we'll be needing plenty of support for the next couple of weeks and am so happy to have the experienced hands of grandmas who have been there before. Evangeline Alice Merilee Tyrrell is lucky enough to have two wonderful grandmothers, which is why we gave her both of their names.

So, there it is in a nutshell. I apologize to all those of you who have left me messages and emails! I am getting around to reading/listening to them and I am so glad to hear from all of you. I will get back to you in the coming weeks when things settle down.

Lots of love - From me and Evvy.

PS. You can see pictures of Evangeline HERE
or click on the link:http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=51244&l=2daff&id=890715120

More Last Preggy Pics.

2007-08-30T17:41:00.000-07:00

The Last Preggy Pics!

2007-08-30T17:40:00.000-07:00

39 and 1/2 weeks and it feels like Christmas Eve.
I've got a big ol' parcel wrapped up 'round my waist.
Tomorrow morning we get to see what's inside!

The News.

2007-08-28T12:54:00.000-07:00

This is me during today's non-stress test. They like to monitor the baby for 15-20 minutes prior to the ultrasound to see how things are going.

Sorry folks, I know you were getting the sawdust spread and the trailer painted up, but there will be no two-headed baby. Not this time, at least.

I was right about the tight little bubble-bum. There it was on the ultrasound in black and white, pressed firmly against my cervix. Sorry, baby. Right idea, wrong end!

The baby's body and head curve up my right flank and the arms and legs are on my left, where they have been firmly punching their way through my uterine walls for the last week. Unlike last time, the knees are a bit bent (more leverage that way). Since the baby's bum is "engaged" there was no way, yet again, to accurately determine the sex. So, I'm still saying it's probably a girl, but possibly a boy. Looks like the baby is about 7 pounds, 7 ounces at the moment, which means I'll have just under an 8-pounder by Friday!

All this boils down to one conclusion: it's going to be a c-section. The whole thing is exactly like a birthday party, all planned out. I should bake a cake and bring some balloons to make it more festive in the operating room. Maybe some party hats for the surgeon and anesthetist. Wheee! I will make up an invitation for Peter, since he's the only other one allowed to attend the actual birth (our families will be able to visit us in the Mom and Baby ward a bit later):

(Picture of brightly-coloured birthday cake with no candles)

You are invited to a very special 0th birthday!

When: Friday, August 31st at 7:50am

Where: Victoria General Hospital Labour and Delivery Operating Room

Why: 'Cause the baby is breech and needs to get out somehow.

Bring your scrubs, mask and foot-covers to be ready for all the fun!

RSVP to: Your wife and unborn child.

There. We're all ready to go and now I'm all excited. Not about all the poking and cutting and sutures, though.

I'm going to be a mommy on Friday, how cool is that?!

"The Machine" which shows baby's heart rate, movements and uterine pressure, as well as my blood pressure and some other statistics I don't understand. The button in the corner is the one I get to push when I feel the baby move. As you can see from the little black horizontal marks on the paper, the baby moves a lot!

Peter and I on our anniversary out for dinner at the Black Olive.

Mr. Bristles has to go.

2007-08-25T16:10:00.000-07:00

I need your help, folks. Honestly, I just can't cope anymore.

Peter has grown some semblance of a beardy-thing on his face. It's all hairy and bristly-like and it's been there for awhile now - enough time to make me think it might be sticking around. Not good, not good. Now here's where you come in. LISTEN CAREFULLY:

Please, I beg you, there can be NO MORE unsolicited complimenting of my husband's beard. Or solicited complimenting. Or complimenting of any kind! I do not care HOW it looks. I am TRYING to get rid of it, here, because, despite how maybe-just-barely-O.K. it might look, it FEELS exactly like a boar's bottom. The beard has got to go.

If you like me and value our friendship/kinship/peaceful relations, you will help me by telling Peter he looks like a deranged and rabid bushman. Or an ourangoutan. Or tell him his beard makes him look MUCH OLDER (point out the white hairs in the chinny part).

I don't know, think of something NEGATIVE to say for once, and be creative! Think of all the lip-rash you'll be saving me from - and if that doesn't work, think of the poor baby! Do you want her coming out and thinking her father is some kind of PRIMATE*?

Thank you for your support in this. I know you will pull through for me.

*I mean, she'll find out the truth sooner or later, but at least give her a few precious years...

Certainly Uncertain.

2007-08-25T15:44:00.000-07:00

Thank you to everyone who has shared their stories and experiences with me! It's really reassuring to know I'm not the only mom-to-be out there who has been nervous
about "the birth!" I'm doing much better with the c-section thing now. I've come to a calm, happy place about it. Of course, now that I feel that way, things aren't so certain anymore.

As of this past Tuesday, I have been thoroughly confused about the position of the baby. At my appointment, Dr. McLeod (with my mom as witness) found what appeared to be a head at the TOP of my uterus, but then also found what appeared to be a head down close to my cervix.

Now, in the olden days, they would have suspected twins, but that has been ruled out by three ultrasounds (much to Peter's relief), so I suspect that the baby has either:
1. sprouted an extra head (very cool hydra-baby) or
2. grown a bubble bum. The cute, tight perky kind. The kind I once had sometime before pregnancy (forever ago) and will probably never have again.

The good news is that we will know on Tuesday. Yes, another ultrasound. This will be "the decisive one". If the baby is NOT head-down, we will proceed with the c-section. If the baby IS head down and looks like she's engaging, then we will let things proceed naturally and hope for the best!

I'll update on Tuesday!

37 Weeks: How to get to Cephalic street.

2007-08-15T15:53:00.000-07:00

I have always been a bit directionally challenged. When I'm the passenger in a car I have a tendency to look more at the details of my surroundings; a freshly painted fence, a kitty cat in the window of a house, the crazy person hauling his chattel goods down the street, rather than paying attention to where we're actually going. This means that when it comes to be my turn to get somewhere on my own, I'm usually pretty clueless. Maps are somewhat helpful, as are directions, but usually I'm still a nervous wreck finding my way somewhere new.

Peter, however, is a pro getting places. I have an inkling that he just reverses whatever my instinct seems to be, because I'm usually wrong. In any case, it seems our unborn child takes after me.

I know that babies in utero are born with the instinct to flip head-down - in fact they're DESIGNED to do this, by virtue of the fact that, as of the third trimester, their head is by far the biggest and heaviest part of their body, therefore it should naturally end up (thanks to gravity) on the bottom. Problem is, my baby has never been head down and probably doesn't know how to get there. So, like me, baby prefers to just hang out in the hood she's* used to.

The best position for a baby to be in when beginning birth is in a Cephalic (or head-down) position. The LOA or Left Occiput Anterior position is most favorable. Our little darling seems to be enjoying the Frank Breech position. I dunno. Looks uncomfortable to me. In any case, she still moves around in there, which makes me feel as though there's a cheese grater in my belly (I suspect the baby will be born with fingernails and toenails), but she always settles back into a breech presentation.

There are some ways to encourage a baby to turn. Many ways, in fact, and I have been trying them all. Without going into too much detail about the difficult decision making process Peter and I were involved in last week, I'll just say that the best course of action seems to be to wait and see, but plan for the worst.

That means we've booked a Caesarean section for the 31st of August, a Friday at 7:50 in the morning. Seems like a good day to be born, if you ask me. I'm actually due Sept. 4th, but the c-section is scheduled early because there is an element of danger if I go into labour naturally while the baby is still breech. If my water breaks, the umbilical cord can come out and get pinched because there's no baby head in the way to keep the cervix blocked. This is very bad because, like a kinked garden hose, a pinched umbilical cord doesn't let any fluid through, which means no food or oxygen for baby. Which means an ambulance ride in downward dog position and an emergency c-section for me. Not my idea of fun.

I figure, if I'm going to have abdominal surgery, it might as well be under optimal conditions. I hate surgery, especially needles of all types. IVs are scary and the idea of a pokey-poke in my spine is making me shudder. I'll be freaked out enough as it is without having to deal with contractions and worrying about the baby.

There is still the chance that baby will turn and I am holding out for this.

Perhaps if I drew her a map...

* I say "she" because both ultrasounds failed to show any boy-bits, so rather than call baby "it"...

Waiting for updates...

2007-08-12T11:06:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted for awhile, even though tons of things have happened and Peter and I have had to make some tricky decisions.
I haven't posted because I'm waiting for an ending to my story, which I probably won't get until Tuesday. Even then, the ending won't be set in stone, because things could change between then and... whenever it is that whatever happens happens.

Vague enough for you?

In any case, with only a few weeks until d-day (delivery day) and with the baby being considered full-term now (37 weeks) pretty much anything could happen and any of those anythings will result in a nice-sized, healthy baby. Just waiting to see how baby will arrive. It may or may not be a surprise. I' will spill the beans when I know a bit more.

Until Tuesday, then!

Person in a lake in a person in a lake.

2007-07-30T15:35:00.000-07:00

It's hard to write a blog with Jord firing ridiculous blog-topic ideas over my shoulder, but I will try to maintain my focus. Ahem. So here I am at the cabin on Shuswap, feelin' pretty posh. It's all comfy and cool and tastefully furnished and the lake, despite being slushie-temperature since the wind blew up last night, is a happy refuge for this mama manatee.

Peter likes to go for marathon kayaks in the morning. He sets off like some intrepid explorer for 3 1/2 hour paddles with only a granola bar and bottle of water. Not sure what he's trying to prove, really, but it seems to make him happy. After a few hours I start scanning the horizon for a little orange blob and two waving yellow specks, just to make sure he's not gone and drowned himself. The cat and I prefer relaxing in the shade on the front deck overlooking the lake.

Mao is a very happy kitty. He's got the run of the place and it's like Kitty Club Med. His tummy is bruised, but looking better every day. I'm pretty sure he's mostly recovered from all his trauma, as he is currently lying on a recliner on the deck with his 4 paws in the air and his tongue protruding slightly through grinning gums...

Peter, Morgan and I have all finished the last Harry Potter as of Wednesday. Just read it, already! (If you haven't yet.) That's all I will say on that particular topic.

We're heading back to the Island sometime this coming weekend. I'm sad to leave, for one, because it's been so amazing here, but I have a Dr's appointment on Tuesday and we're booked for an ultrasound.

Five weeks to go and Baby is still breech. Bum down. Feet kicking bladder. Constant alien-like elbow scrapings. Very uncomfortable. I'm trying everything: hours on my hands and knees, pelvic tilts, sleeping on my left side, lots of breaststroke in the lake, sitting up straight, not reclining, not lying on my back, sitting on an exercise ball. Any other ideas? I mean, short of riding roller coasters.

Anyhoo, the ultrasound will ensure that there's nothing physical preventing the baby from turning (entangled cord, etc.) so that maybe I can try some other methods. Also, perhaps at this ultrasound, we will be able to confirm that she is a she after all.

Well, it's about snack time and I see some blueberries wanting to be eaten on the counter. With my current fruit consumption, I wouldn't be surprised if the little one comes out berry-scented. Or at least maybe her diapers will be...

Third Trimester: Week 34

2007-07-18T09:34:00.000-07:00

I'm into the final 6-week countdown now! Our last Dr's appointment went well - no imminent birth likely, I just have to avoid doing stupid things.

I'm feeling better now that I've discovered my limits are. Mainly, I have to stay off my feet as much as possible, and avoid lifting, bending and just generally overexerting myself.I can tell when things are starting to get tense now, so I just don't push it!

I've got all the usual 3rd trimester issues: swollen ankles and feet in the evenings, sore lower back, which gets worse the longer I walk for and constant need to pee, but all told, it's not that bad. I'm starting to feel the anticipation now. My hospital bag is packed and I'm getting busy making and freezing casseroles for after the baby is born.

The cat is doing better, too, which improves my state of mind immensely! He's eating well. His cone is off and he's still on antibiotics, but the shunts have been removed and his saroma *appears* to be healing well. I'm keeping a close eye on him, though... With this cat, you never know.

Can't wait to go up to Shuswap next week! I'm looking forward to spending time with my family and going for a swim every day.

Here are some pictures that Peter took of me last night. As you can see, I'm really protruding now. No wonder my back is sore - I'm developing an overhang!

South of the border.

2007-07-17T16:44:00.000-07:00

I tried cutting my toenails the other day. It didn't go so well. Any complicated maintenance lower than my belly button is a guessing game these days. A blindfolded covert ops mission. Or perhaps an exercise in strategic futility... and yet I try.

Anyhow, after a few ill-placed snips, my left big toenail looks like it's been through a meat grinder.

I give up. Cat bills be damned, I'm going for a pedicure.

And ladies, I shouldn't even have to describe the mess I made out of my bikini line. You can only imagine...

The June insanity continues in July...

2007-07-12T12:48:00.001-07:00

My summer vacation officially started on June 30th, but not the usual way.

Usually, summer for this teacher kicks off with our final Pro-D Day: a morning of half-hearted classroom cleanup, followed by an afternoon of wholehearted socializing with other staff members which culminates in the yearly staff party where you can pretty much see the steam rising in mushroom clouds as it is being blown off with the aid of chilled screwtop wobbly-pops, a trampoline, bocce and some karaoke.

Unfortunately, I missed the staff party this year because of my bedrest.
Fortunately, I missed my classroom cleanup - although I'll have to get that over with sooner or later, I suppose.

After 5 days of complete rest I headed out to Coquitlam to fulfill my FSA marking conract. Despite some misgivings, I'm glad I went. I managed to stay off my feet for most of the week and got the marking job done. It was mind-numbing work. For those who don't know, FSA testing is provincial standardized testing done on Literacy (formerly Reading and Writing) and Numeracy (formerly Math) for all grade 4 and 7 students in the province. That's a lot of students, which means there are a lot of markers (350) and a LOT of papers!

In the process of marking over 1200 4-6 page-long stories, I discovered that the vast majority of them were dull as gruel and contained absolutely no imagination or originality. Oh. And. Just to be clear, it's "the sun was shining" NOT "the sun was shinning!" Because if I see a sun that shins one more time on paper, I'm gonna lose it! There were some original stories that got me laughing, thinking or sighing, but for the most part - blah! It was, however, a reasonably well-paid "blah" so I will cease my complaining.

I came back to Victoria and spent a lovely Monday, July 9th getting back on track with my errands and organization. Peter and I spent a divine Monday evening at Butchart Gardens watching my troupe perform on the big stage. They were AMAZING! I wish I could have been part of it, but was also incredibly happy to be a spectator!

Then came the heatwave. This would be the crying part. Tuesday and Wednesday were BRU-TAL! Most of the afternoon and evening our indoor thermostat was at 32 degrees celsius My mind melts and I become a pregnant, mostly-naked, blubbering idiot at around 28. Not a pretty sight.

**The following cat report contains some graphic descriptions!**

Oh, and there's the cat. We took him into the vet before I went out to mark exams because his belly was really swollen and distended. We figured it was constipation. Not pooping for nearly a week could do that...
Turns out, after an internal bleeding scare, it was a bloody, pus-filled seroma. Yum! The vet said it should slowly harden and the swelling should go down over a couple of weeks. Mao got some pain medication and was given the run of the house for awhile.

He pretty much stopped eating on Tuesday, which I figured might be attributed to the heat. Then he wouldn't really drink either, which was very disconcerting because I figured he was going to die of dehydration (insert crying) so I took him off to the vet. In the sweltering heat.

The saroma is not getting better. Still bloody and pus-filled, as the vet demonstrated by removing a whole syringe of fluid from our spitting, writhing cat. Only now it is infected too! The cat, still writhing seconds after being punctured, flung himself down off the table onto the floor. In the process of doing this, he released a warm, gooey jet of saroma-filling, which splattered all down the side of my face and left sickly red droplets all over the walls and floor of the exam room. It was 28 degrees in the vet's office. The weeping was inevitable - and that was before I was handed the bill.

So, about the cat:

He is wearing a big plastic collar, which he hates. His saroma is draining through a lovely surgically-inserted tube, which leaves gross little puddles all over the laundry room, where he is currently imprisoned. Oh, and this morning, feeling extra-mobile due to his strong pain meds, he discovered how to jump over the child gate, and left a trail of saroma-pus all around the house, then out the front door, which was left open to cool things down. I rigged up a cardboard blocking device to keep him from jumping the gate again, but it didn't end there.

The final straw was when Peter tried to administer his antibiotic squirt and he proceeded to foam at the mouth, then vomit all over the laundry room. The mop has been in active duty all day.Haven't cried yet today, but I'm close. Then again, it's only 25 degrees in here.

I will be picking up a new prescription (which had better damn well work) this afternoon. The cat is presently in a funk, refusing to eat and drink and just generally being as miserable as he can be. We can't figure out whether or not he kept his pain pill down. We didn't find it in all the vomit, but he threw up a lot and we may have missed it. Not sure what to do... I guess if he's not looking perkier in an hour or two, we'll give him another one this afternoon.

Hey, at least I don't have to work...
Poor Peter. It's his birthday AND he's working AND dealing with all of this.

What I did at summer camp

2007-07-01T15:12:00.000-07:00

I got well acquainted with these retchingly putrid fellows:

I made myself a little home:

I tried to stay as clean as possible using the excellent sanitary facilities:

I got lost and hiked for way longer than I should have:

I got some incriminating photos of me having fun on a tire swing:

I came home and immediately went to Camp Antepartum where I enjoyed some fetal monitoring and preterm labour assessment.

The facilities were WAY nicer at that camp, though.

Pink PJs

2007-07-01T15:08:00.000-07:00

These are from back in the beginning of June. I'm about 29 weeks pregnant in these.

Bump on a Log.

2007-06-28T10:29:00.000-07:00

Cause:I went camping with my grade 8s this week.

Effect: I spend yesterday evening under observation in the Labour and Delivery ward at the hospital.

Let me elaborate:

Cause: The 3rd Annual "Les Vikings Verts" Team Camping Trip. This year was my year to plan it, and I decided on Horne Lake Teepee Adventure Camp.

Pros: (which I was informed of from the get-go)
- Lots of cool activities, including caving
- Friendly staff
- Spectacular, pristine waterfront setting
- Ability to accommodate our whole team of 73 students.
- Kids get to sleep in teepees (how cool is that for a 14-year-old?)
- Fully catered meals brought on site

Cons: (most of which I found out about two weeks ago)
- In the middle of nowhere
- No power
- No running water (Hot OR Cold)
- Foul collection of outhouses that were meant to pass for "washroom facilities"
- No buildings other than the teepees
- Garbage bin: 15 minute walk from campsite
- Lots of duck mites in the lake

I came equipped with a borrowed tent and air mattress, which was very comfy, considering. There was a lot of walking around to be done, even for me (I chose not to participate in the activities, for obvious reasons - I would get stuck in the cave, for instance). We had to walk to the food and back, to the outhouses and back, to the garbage bin and back. I guess, thinking back, I was pretty much walking most of the time I was there.

I thought I had done a good job of taking it easy until Tuesday morning, when I decided to go on a little half-hour walk to photograph the kids doing some rappelling. Well, the group I went with got lost, and a walk turned into a 10km hike up a gas line road, then back down again. I knew at the time that I shouldn't be doing it, but there was no way to get back to camp, other than more walking, so I toughed it out and we eventually made it back to camp.

Needless to say, I was pretty exhausted throughout the rest of the trip, and a bit sore too, so I did a lot of sitting in my folding chair. I really started to notice the soreness on the drive back to the school. By the time I got back, told all the waiting parents that the bus would be arriving soon, and carried empty water jugs up to my classroom, I was feeling a bit uncomfortable and there were some bad signs...

Effect: Peter and I ended up at the hospital in Labour and Delivery for most of the evening yesterday, where they hooked me up to a bunch of machines that made noise and monitored me for quite awhile, because I was showing signs of early labour.

The baby is fine, but it seems my body isn't quite cooperating because it is under too much strain. That, coupled with the past 3 weeks I've had have made my bits forget their job: Must. Keep. Baby. In.
The doctor was very firm. I get to go home, but I'm under observation. Strict rest for the next 5 days: sitting or, preferably lying down. The slightest cramp, twinge or anything and I'm back in the hospital. I may not be allowed to start up any form of exercise again until my due date. :(

So, it's day 1. I am not very good at relaxing. I'm already restless. Plus, the house needs attention. Going NUTS not being able to get things back in order.
Peter the pinch hitter will now step up to the plate, which he has done competently in the past. He will be a busy guy: working, taking care of the cat and attempting to meet my (relatively high because they actually exist) standards when it comes to keeping house. I'm honestly trying to relax my expectations for the sake of his sanity... Really!

I can do this, though. For the sake of the baby, I can learn how to relax.

That being said, I need to find some projects that I can do sitting or lying down. DVD recommendations and book recommendations would also come highly appreciated. Or just chatting. After the time at camp, I miss talking to adults.

If all goes well over the next few days, I will be allowed to attend my FSA marking session on the mainland, just so long as I take it easy. I'd really like to be able to go, because I haven't been out for a visit for awhile, so I will be good for the next 5 days and I will relax.

Feel free to check up on me :)

The T. T. & C. Animal Hospital, Inc.

2007-06-16T09:44:00.000-07:00

Here is Mao, back in his glory days of this past January.

Good news today. The cat is at home. It is still a long way to recovery, but there is hope, and now he is finally back where he belongs.

He was released into our care last night with many, many specific instructions. He can't move very well at all, his rear end having been crushified. He is in a long, long healing process, so he is confined to the laundry room for the coming weeks, with all necessary amenities. He's still on a heavy pain medication patch, which the Doctor will re-evaluate on Tuesday. He has to be fed and medicated on schedule and we've got to be vigilant for "soilings" as he is still working on getting into and out of his litter pan.* We are now the Tyrrell, Tyrrell & Cat Animal Hospital, Inc.

We're getting a baby gate to put in the laundry room door, so that he can hear and see what is going on in the rest of the house. He is VERY happy to have attention whenever he can get it, so we're giving him frequent rumples on the head. We are rewarded by purring and squints.

He sleeps most of the time, a testament to his healing body. Who knows how much and how quickly he will heal, but as long as his blood count does not drop again, he is making progress.

Of course, this means that someone has to be at home at all times, particularly since we can't move him about. He won't let us touch his hind quarter at all. Very sensitive, still. We will not be going anywhere, at least together, anytime in the next few weeks, that is for sure, which is O.K. since we can't afford to anyways.

I am so glad to have him at home. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers - please keep on sending him good vibes for the coming weeks!

*Old cookie sheet, he can't climb in a box.

Thinking of my Mao.

2007-06-14T19:10:00.000-07:00

As Peter wrote on his blog, Mao is in the hospital. My heart breaks for this furry fellow. Ever since he snagged my sweater at the Humane Society way back when, he's been He is such an integral part of our day-to-day life that the house feels empty without him, which makes me unable to stop thinking about him. I try to explain to people that yes, I have a baby coming, but HE's been my baby for the past seven years. I want to do the best I can for him, because, quite frankly, I adore the little fellow. Besides, when I adopted him, I promised to take care of him the best I could. A pet, in my mind, is a very serious commitment. Peter and I are determined to stay the course, hand over our VISA and let the vet do her work. It's a wait-and-see situation.

In the meantime. I tell myself it does no good to worry, but it's been hard to concentrate on accomplishing much of value for the past couple of days. I've been at work, and teaching is fine, but the moment the kids leave and I have to get anything else done, I'm a mess. This could get problematic; my report cards are due next week. Stupid work. Stupid report cards. Extra-stupid camping trip. Why can't everything just STAND ASIDE while my cat is in the hospital? Pause button, please.

Don't worry, Aunties, Uncles and Grandparents, I am eating properly, drinking plenty of fluids and sleeping as much as I can muster (going for quantity over quality, here.) The baby is fine, probably better than fine. The baby has nothing to worry about, lucky baby! Don't I wish I were In Utero right about now!

I will post again if and when we get some news that will give us an indication of how things are going. Until then, thank you for your thoughts! If you have anything to say to Mao, let me know, I will pass it on to him when I visit him tomorrow. You know how he loves it when everyone is thinking about him!

A stay-at-home mom-to-be.

2007-06-02T13:33:00.000-07:00

I stayed home alone this weekend by choice. Perhaps it is a testament to my increasingly strong nesting urges, or maybe I just needed some time alone (very rare that this happens!)

Peter has gone up to spend time with his parents, Morgan and the Bryants at Tigh-na-mara and I'm sure they're having a lovely romp up there. I would have enjoyed going too, but I needed a weekend to defragment and get caught up on my work. Besides, the cat needs some quality attention.

So far my weekend has gone to very good use, despite my feeling a bit under the weather.I must be fending off a mild stomach bug that's been going around the school, so I'm planning on getting some R&R tomorrow when all my cleaning, marking and errands are done. I've been up since 7 this morning. Some may call it insanity to get up that early on a Saturday, but I'm calling it proactive productivity - standing on the brink of June madness once again, I'm busy sewing my parachute all weekend...

By the way, for all those who have inquired, the recital on Wednesday went really well! I enjoyed myself this year and relished every moment of performing. It was a tiring evening after the fact, but me and the baby were running on adrenaline the whole time. Pictures are coming tomorrow, if I get all my not-fun work done.

I had lots of friendly faces in the crowd, which always makes me happy: Peter, my mom-in-law, Selena, Beanie and Bethany all made it out to brave the stuffy theatre and long evening of listening to Middle-Eastern music.

I will miss performing this summer, but I am also looking forward to being the "programme girl" at Butchart Gardens while my troupemates perform in July. There's a lot less pressure on you when you're just responsible for handing out programmes! Oh yes, and I have plans to make another costume this summer... could be fun!

Next week I will be entering my 3rd trimester and I'll tell you all about that later...

My last appearance for awhile...

2007-05-16T16:07:00.000-07:00

It's that time of year again. I'm frantically sewing fringe onto costumes, perfecting hems on skirts and nailing down those last bits of choreography. Yes, folks, my end-of-year belly dance recital is coming up on Wednesday, May 30th.
This will be my last official performance before baby arrives, and probably for awhile afterwards - I will be opting out of dancing at Butchart Gardens with the troupe in July for belly-related reasons!

I would LOVE to have some friendly faces in the audience. I'm dancing in 5 troupe numbers, a duet and, of course, my solo (I have the cutest beledi dress to cover my baby bump!)And if cute and sparkly costumes don't entice you... I will be balancing a sword on my head!

Also, some of my girls from Cedar Hill will be performing, as well as some previous students from last year. All in all, it will be a great show! Keeps on getting better every year. The seats are also very comfortable...

So, for those who would like to and are able to come, it will be @ 7:00-9:00pm on Weds. May 30th at Claremont School in the Ridge Theatre. Tickets are $12 and you can buy them through me - Peter can deliver them to you at the door if you can't pick them up ahead of time.

Hope to see some of you there :)

6 months: Where DID that 5th month go?

2007-05-12T19:23:00.000-07:00

So the weekend we went to the aquarium, I should have been getting photos taken of my belly because it was 4 weeks after the set before were taken, but I just didn't get around to it. It has been a busy month!

On to the pregnancy: Flipper/tumbler has been very active. Whenever I sit down or lie down for more than a minute, I feel lots of movement, from somersaults, to bumps to good ol'kicks. Baby is definitely getting bigger and stronger. There seems to be some kind of primitive conversation going on. It involves music.

Yesterday I was listening to my itunes while working at the computer and I put my headphones on my lap for a moment. I felt the baby pull a 180, I'm assuming, to get its head closer to the music (since it started kicking the top of my uterus). So I tried putting the headphones up above my belly button. A few seconds later, another 180 and kicks down in my pelvis. Then I started experimenting. Here are the results based on a scale of 1 to 10. 1 being sedate and 10 being "kicking the snot out of mommy." This experiment is ongoing, so I will post results as they come.

Belly dance music:
- Tabla solos: 6
- Classical egyptian: 7-8
- Modern upbeat (especially involving zills): 7

Classical music:
- Bach with harp: 1
- Debussy piano: 2
- Handel's Water Music: 4
- Violin concertos: 10 (Peter figures it's because violin carries better through water, I maintain that we have a little prodigy in there!)

Chelle's music (still collecting data):
- Tori Amos downtempo: 2
- Morcheeba: 4
- Various Alternative Artists: 5

We have yet to try Peter's music. Make that a *limited* selection of Peter's music. Remember the King Diamond episode last May?

As for me and the blossoming bod: I've had to give up on wearing pre-maternity pants with elastic at the waist... the gap is just getting too precarious to bridge these days. That means I've been shopping for some pants and shorts which will hopefully last me through the summer. Ah, the joys of an (even more) limited wardrobe!

I'm still doing prenatal yoga with Helga Beer, which I will continue until the baby is due (and beyond, if necessary!). I'm also still belly dancing with the troupe, and teaching some students at school. Our big end-of-year recital will be on May 30th. Also, Peter and I have started prenatal classes on Tuesday nights. I'll let you know how those are when I've had another couple of weeks under my belt.

Peter and I are researching strollers this month. I thought we had it narrowed down to the Zooper boogie and the Peg Perego Pliko P3, but we went to TJs kids yesterday and the lady there introduced us to the BOB (baby on board) stroller. Stylish, modern, well-built and folds down better than the Zooper (but not as well as the Pliko). Unfortunately, we seem to be drawn to the medium-to-high end strollers (not Rock Star strollers, though that's just silly!) so we will end up dropping a good wad of cash on whatever we decide to purchase (I've been saving up!) so it is totally worth researching well.

Finally - got some diapers in the mail last week! The first of 2 batches that I will be ordering. Thanks to indispensable advice from Fawn and diaperpin.com, I settled on a couple of brands that look like they should work. I just got a shipment of 12 cloth diapers, 3 pocket diapers and 4 covers from Bella Bottoms. Very impressed with the quality - and very cute, too! I will be ordering my next set from Mother-ease later on this month. Doesn't hurt to be prepared!

Yes, we are doing cloth diapers. No we are not insane. As you know, I don't take these kinds of decisions lightly (especially when Peter and poop are involved) and I have discovered several very good reasons to go cloth. Including cost. But we'll save that for another post some other time.

That's it for this month!

The Jim Boz Experience.

2007-05-10T18:48:00.000-07:00

Back in March I was all excited about attending the Jim Boz workshop in Nanaimo. Here is the sequel to that blog:

I decided to make a weekend of the whole event, which we now fondly call "The Jim Boz Experience" and invited Sarah, John and their little little toddler, Zoe, to join us at Tigh-na-mara for the weekend. It worked out well for everyone. The men kept themselves busy with the cat, the toddler and the 13-year-old (aka. Morgan) and we ladies went out to shake our hips and learn some new moves.

We were a merry little bunch at Nanoose Hall on Saturday, as we met up with Pamela, Lee and Bobbie. While cinching up our jingly coin scarves, and slipping our dance shoes, we waited in anticipation to see what Jim Boz was all about.

I could not help but size him up, as he appeared on the scene wearing a an understated jeans-and-polo-T combo. Conclusion: Mr. Boz is just as tall and broad as he looks in his photos. As he got ready to teach, his relaxed stance radiated the demure confidence of a man that excels at his art. He has an authoritative grace that makes you take notice: look out! Here is a man who can move!

The shaved head and well-groomed goatee, far from being scary and biker-looking, serve to accentuate his expressive features. His voice has the deep, warm and resonant ring of a trained classical singer, which in fact he is. This guy can PROJECT when he needs to and did not use a mic for the workshop, despite it being in a large gymnasium-type space.

I immediately got the sense that he could entertain just as well as he could instruct. And in true form, he kept us giggling as we learned - his humour ranges from dry, to playful, to slightly gross ("The line of snot" helping us to remember our alignment for a particular move). Coming from a lady, some of his descriptions and observations would have seemed weird - but that's the joy of learning from a man: you get the straight goods!

As I found out after our workshop, Jim was far from serious when he started dancing. He is a very well-rounded guy with a hand in physics and electronic music composition among many other things. It seems he started dancing as a joke and, as it often does, the music and the movement snuck up and grabbed him and claimed him for its own. Now, like the rest of us that love and live for Middle Eastern dance, he's hooked and has made it his life. (O.K. I can only WISH it was my life...)

It was refreshing to see that he loves and excels at what he does, without taking himself too seriously all the time - a characteristic I really admired about Aziza as well. Jim is very personable and during the course of the day, often took the time to come around to give us individual feedback on our movements, even though there were nearly 30 dancers in the room.

His movement is very Egyptian: interior, focussed and expressive. He is precise and fluid in his technique and spent a great deal of time breaking down simple movements into their more complex variations, which he encouraged us to use in order to explore and express the shades and nuances of music. He also had really funny and descriptive names for moves, which made them even more memorable - "bleh" "eee" "tick-tock" - now imprinted in my memory!

What I found most impressive was that he put a huge importance on listening to and interpreting the music, which we've all been encouraged to do by Pamela. Even the choreography he taught us reflected this philosophy. Rather than capitalizing on every single beat, I found that his combinations gave me the freedom and space to feel the music push and pull me through the movements. It FELT good in my body, even with my increasingly awkward bump!

At the performance later on that evening, it became clear that Jim knows how to please a crowd. He's got a strong stage presence - I mean come on, even without the shiny liquid-black bodysuit and turban, he's pretty hard to ignore! It is quite the juxtaposition - hmmm..."beefy grace" I will call it. But his size and stature aside, I found him a pleasure to watch because he enjoys playing with the music using the very same principles and techniques he taught us to add texture and personality to his fluid moves.

He also enjoys playing with the crowd, which makes for a great audience experience. At times, my brain could not process what I was watching - It seems so strange that a man of his shape and size is able to move the way he does. I'm just not used to seeing it - and yet there it was, and I was transfixed every minute!

Oh... and for those of you who are wondering... he does indeed ride a motorcycle! Now there's a well-rounded individual for you!

Tremors.

2007-05-02T10:36:00.000-07:00

Everyone who knows me knows that my career is very important to me. Generally, I love what I've chosen to do. It is a part of who I am.

The last 3 years of my career have been amazing. When I was recruited by my teaching partner to my current position, I was worried that it would take some adjustment. In reality, it fit like a glove. I've had the privilege for the past 3 years to work with the BEST staff and a wonderful admin, who has been nothing but supportive.

Here's where things begin to fall apart.

Before Christmas, I started feeling strangely unsettled about my career. The feeling got worse throughout the holidays, as expressed in this blog. Fortunately, I discovered I was pregnant shorty after this, which made me immediately feel a sense of inexplicable relief. It turns out that I am psychic.

Fast forward to this week. Without making a C.L.M.* on my blog, the best I can say is that things are coming apart at the seams. Those of us who felt bad changes looming tried valiantly to save ourselves and our carefully-crafted program, but higher powers (for reasons beyond a mere teaching professional's comprehension) have been eroding the terra sancta on which we have built our empire. And it is happening sooner than we thought. There's some stuff coming down the pike that I'd hoped never to be a part of again. The canary is dead. I predict a mass exodus.

In addition, our principal is retiring this year. I can honestly say he has been the best administrator I've ever taught under. Experienced, professional, thoughtful and committed to supporting his school and teachers. A huge loss to the profession.

On one hand, I am SO glad Peter and I decided to start a family when we did. I was originally thinking of putting it off a year, but went with my instincts. Only now have they proved to be right.
On the other hand, I'm gone for a year, but the question looms large: "What on Earth am I going to come back to?"

I've experienced extremely stressful work environments before. Who hasn't? The problem is, I don't like what they do to ME. I absorb the negativity and it permeates my entire existence. I have very high standards now and I would NEVER subject myself, my husband or my child to the me I was 4 years ago. If things are starting to look bad, I would rather jump ship. The question is: When? -- and How?

I guess I've got some thinking to do...

Peabutter.

2007-05-01T09:34:00.000-07:00

I've been on my no-nuts diet for 8 months now. Mostly, it's no big loss because I've never enjoyed them that much. The only thing I really miss about nuts is peanut butter.

Peter and I buy the "good kind": the all-natural stuff by Adams that comes in the glass jar (which does not leach toxic oils into the peanut butter). I used to love spreading it on toast with honey and sliced-up bananas. Yum. Peanut butter, honey and banana sandwiches (PBHBs)!

I've tried simply omitting the peanut butter from the equation, but IT'S JUST NOT THE SAME! You need the creamy/sticky texture of the PB! So, in an act of sheer breakfast-related desperation, I bought a jar of Peabutter.

Yes, Peabutter. Like peanut butter, except made out of peas (I'm assuming the dried yellow kind) instead of peanuts. It's sweetened, but other than that, it's peas. Looks like peanut butter, though - a bit more yellowy. I tried it out this morning and, though it was not perfect, it did the trick when smothered by honey and banana. It does have a bit of a pea-soup aftertaste, but the texture is all right.

I would NEVER eat it with a spoon, though. Just plain yuck.

We'll see if I'm able to get through a whole jar of it...

Aquarium

2007-04-29T10:44:00.000-07:00

As you can see from my new flickr badge (look down and to the right on this page), our aquarium photos are now posted!

See them HERE or at:http://www.flickr.com/photos/ripplebliss/476986614/in/set-72157600156519677/

I love going to the aquarium. I have the most awesome childhood memories of sunny (and not-so-sunny) days watching the whales, fish and crustaceans. My favourites have always been the wolf eel and the sea otters, but I love the whole experience from beginning to end.

It was even more fun this time, though, because Peter and I took Hallie and James (our niece and nephew) for their first visit. They were amazed at the huge tanks with all the different fish and sea critters in them. We all particularly liked a gigantic disgruntled sea lion that we christened Mr. Burpy.

We were there for nearly four hours and still didn't get to see everything. It was an awesome day and I can't wait to go back with our little flipper in a year!

Photo update!

2007-04-22T14:59:00.000-07:00

A time-consuming job, but I have now downloaded, organized, cropped and arranged my photos from the last couple of months.

You can find 3 new sets of them, "Easter Egg-Stravaganza 2007" "Pregnancy Photos" and "Botanica: Spring in the Garden" on our flickr site:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/ripplebliss/sets/
or click HERE

You can also click on the badge in the right-hand margin to get to our Botanica page.

Blog and photos of our Vancouver Aquarium trip with Hallie and James will be posted soon!

Pink or Blue?

2007-04-13T13:31:00.001-07:00

We went for our second ultrasound on Thursday. Part of the preparation for this is to have a full bladder. That way they can get a better view of the cervix and lower placenta (to check for placenta praevia).I drank less than the recommended 32oz. of water that morning, and still ended up doing the frantic 3-year-old pee dance in the waiting room, wiggly feet and all.

When I was called into the ultrasound room, our technician smiled and nodded as I described my extreme discomfort. I'm sure she was thinking to herself, "great, another whiny one..." Then she scanned my lower abdomen and found that my bladder was as distended as a pair of hot pants on Rita McNeil. I was immediately sent off to rectify the situation, not once, but twice. I didn't pee ENOUGH the first time.

I found the ultrasound harder to "get" this time than last time. The baby is bigger now, so you can only see one part at a time. The technician, who was very pleasant and chatty, scanned my placenta and the baby from head to toe at many different angles. Although our Doctor gets the final say, we are right on schedule and everything appears to be super, yet again.

Yes, we did want to find out the gender. And yes, we do have a pretty good idea of what our child will be - although we were told to keep any receipts for purchases that are gender-specific, just in case! And yes, we have our names finalized for a boy and a girl, just in case!

I won't reveal the sex (or the names, for that matter) on my blog, because some people don't want to know just yet (ahem - Mom!) Those who are curious can email me, or message me on Facebook to find out. Alternately, you could leave a comment and I will email you back.

Happy wondering!

4th Annual Easter Egg-Stravaganza.

2007-04-09T21:32:00.000-07:00

All in all, the Friesen Easter was good times. Peter, Morgan, Mao and I agree that it is well worth the annoying ferry ride every year.

So, Highlights of the weekend include:

1. Grandma Friesen Wii boxing:

No doubt about it, our 90-year-old contender has a mighty right hook. Best not be messin' with THIS grandma's purse! Moo recorded the whole event on camera - check it out on his blog.

2. Jordan's cauliflower with cheese.

I'm not allowed to eat cauliflower, normally. There is a very good reason for this: It makes me (more) gassy (than usual.) However, I ate some, then I ate some more afterwards. It was delicious and totally worth it, as far as I'm concerned.
As I settled on the couch for my evening ritual (reclined on my left side, of course) I knew it would be a spectacular show. It's not often you can gross out a room full of young bachelors. I'm actually pretty proud.

3. Full-contact Easter Egg hunt with handicaps.

Yet again, the crazies (minus two this year, as Jess and Thomas were with their Dad's side of the family) got together and ran around looking for candy-filled eggs. Thanks to reasonably clement weather, the hunt was held outside this year, the first time in 3 years.
Mostly, Kevin got dirt, Mike got nothing, Jordan got basketballs, Ross held his own and Morgan kicked butt (mainly by staying out of the guys' way).

4. The Pasqua:

Easter bread. Definitely a tradition in my Mennonite family, although I'm not sure of its roots. Probably Eastern European or something. Sweet, but not too sweet, fluffy, with a tart icing and those little coloured sprinkles. Yum yum. In order to eat it, one must also know the Mennonite Easter greeting: Person 1: "He is risen." Person 2: (enthusiastically) "He is risen indeed!" Always sounds better when mouth is full of pasqua.

5. Enduring belly abuse. (Not really a highlight, but needs to be mentioned.)

Although I looked forward to painting up my belly as a festive Easter egg to celebrate Christ's resurrection, all hopes were dashed by my mother's complete revulsion at the very mention of me exposing my bare, burgeoning stomach.
Then my Auntie Janet called me "fatty" all day Sunday in a vain attempt to burst my overinflated self-esteem.
Oh, and let's not forget Jord's lovely illustration of me as a flatulent whale.
Well, no dice. bellyhaters! "Too bad for you," I say! "I have a belly. It is a nice belly, and I now that have an outie instead of an innie, it is much easier to clean!"

Besides, I'll have plenty of time to run around with my ginormous tum bouncing about willy-nilly when I'm up at the lake this summer. And NOBODY will be able to stop me! Tee hee hee! I shall paint it orange so I look like giant a buoy floating around.

Hope everyone had a great Easter weekend!

Luxe.

2007-04-03T13:34:00.000-07:00

Many of the "basic luxuries" in life elude me - some by choice, some by necessity:

- Don't have cable.
- Don't buy gossip mags (but I do read them at the hairdresser's)
- Can't claim to be a fashionista; (Not enough shoes or handbags!)
- Allergic to retail therapy - I usually suffer from a guilt complex after dropping unplanned cash at the mall.
- I'm reduced to a very basic wardrobe (albeit temporarily).
- O.K., fine, so my wardrobe is pretty reduced at the best of times.
- No martinis or other fun libations for me (while baby is in tum, at least).
- Because of my cursed grapeskin allergy, I am never allowed to drink wine ever, ever again. (C'mon, I need a big chorous of "awwwww"s here!)
- For the same reasons, no artificially sweetened/flavoured/coloured, preserved or caffeinated, food or drink (yes, this means chocolate!)
- Can't eat shellfish, coffee, tea (the real kind),nuts, citrus fruits and asparagus. And it's asparagus season...

The list continues, but I will stop here.

This doesn't mean, however, that I don't have my indulgences. Some things I splurge on, I guess to make up for all the stuff I can't, or won't have.

For instance:

Cheese! Instead of wasting empty calories on sweets and pastries, I opt for the fatty, salty stuff - great for the arteries, I know. Mmmmm... Gouda, Camenbert and yummy, nutty, firm french cheeses.

Eating out: No Denny's for me. I'd rather eat out once a week and do it well than go for frequent "value" meals. If I am taking the trouble to go out for a dins, there needs to be some ambience involved. Especially if I can't have wine.

Abba Moisture Scentsation Shampoo and Conditioner. "Coute cher" and hard to find, but makes me feel like I'm at the spa every shower.

MAC Cosmetics - especially the eyeshadows and brushes. The best staying power on the market and I love the colours!

Silk Road Looseleaf Herbal Teas. It's fun just to go in and smell them all!

Pedicures... and most other spa treatments, for that matter. In town, it's Ronald Grant. When we go up to Tigh-na-Mara it's Grotto Spa.

And most importantly:Belly Bling. Mostly it's just window shopping, and troupe-related purchases but someday THIS WILL BE MINE!

I guess you could say it's a trade off. Five chocolate bars for a nice wedge of camenbert. A subscription to "O.K." magazine for a sea salt scrub and massage. A bottle of wine for a tin of Angelwater tea. Eight pairs of the latest strappy sandals for one sparkly costume that makes me feel like a diva.

Choices are what makes us individuals. Luxuries are what make us pampered princesses. I like to have both!

So... what are your indulgences?

Aie! My spleen!

2007-03-29T11:20:00.000-07:00

My mom has given Flipper a new name, which I quite like - "Tumbler". Seems appropriate, since it now has fingers and toes (complete with nails) and also, given my Dr.'s discovery at our appointment on Tuesday. She had the doppler all ready to track down the fetal heartbeat and my stomach was all jellied up. She quickly found the rapid "kwoosh-kwoosh-kwoosh-kwoosh" that signals life, but couldn't keep track of it long enough to get a count.

It seems our little one is an acrobat, soccer star and escape artist all at once. Apparently it was doing somersaults in order to avoid having its heartbeat measured. Whenever I sit down or lie down, it jabs at me with its minisclue pointy feet and elbows (which it surely has inherited from its dad, Prickly Pete) "Whatcha doin' mom? Hurry up and get moving!"

Yesterday just before lunchtime, it located a particularly sensitive part of my intestine. I couldn't help but squeak in surprise, right in the middle of my Science lesson. Felt like someone was tapping an interior funny bone - it's the strangest sensation! I can only imagine that as it increases in size and strength, I will never feel alone, what with the constant reminders of a little tumbler inside me. I'm getting ready for some "alien footprints" later on in pregnancy!

I just hope it calms down by the time it's ready to enter the world, or we might just be in trouble...

Toppling the tube.

2007-03-28T17:34:00.000-07:00

I don't have cable. In fact, Peter and I haven't once had cable since we've been married. The decision started as a financial one, but just grew into one that worked for us. I'm kind-of proud to be living without something that destitute trailerpark rednecks consider a material priority in life, and yet...

No! No "and yets"! Cable is the enemy. Must fortify trenches. Need sandbags.

Hmmm... O.K. I have it: I can't stand commercials, find most sitcoms and series utter mindless pap, have no interest in watching the news, sports, the weather etc. and am able to entertain myself quite well with books, projects and the ample selection of decent TV series and movies available at my local Video Store.

But will things change when I have a baby? Will I be stuck on the couch with both hands occupied by a suckling infant for most of the day? If so, won't I need TLC? I mean, I could watch that channel all day. I could live vicariously through half of those shows - and I won't really HAVE a life by then...

And will I need to get the dreaded TREEHOUSE channel in order to zombify my hyperactive toddler? What if I'm just sick of parenting and need a break? Doesn't every parent need the flickering one-eyed babysitter every now and again?

If I could just pay for 2 or 3 channels, that would be great! I'd feel like it was worth it. I'd feel less like a passive participant in consumer brainwashing. I could JUSTIFY getting cable...

But alas, life doesn't work like that. They give you a shovelful of crap, charge by the pound and leave it up to you to squidge through the dungpile to find one or two decent channels. Hmph. Not interested.

No! I shall frequent helpful community establishments such as my local library, purveyors of fine illustrated volumes and many, many Barney videos for kids. I shall engage in active bartering and trade with other parents so that I don't have to watch the same damn Disney DVDs over and over again.

I shall be a Cable-less parent! I shall choose WHICH Ruby and Max episodes to play and WHEN to play them. I shall download podcasts and play them. I shall ask friends and co-workers to tape* "What not to wear" for me. And they will, because I will have a squalling infant. And I will bring said squalling infant over to their house if they don't.

*do people still tape things these days? How does that work now, anyhow?

Cooking for preggies.

2007-03-21T15:56:00.000-07:00

I actually meant to post this a month ago. My food cravings have gotten considerably more tame lately, but this will give you an idea of the type of things I craved ravenously.

O.K. Are you ready?

First, gather the necessary tools and ingredients. Ensure that ingredients are fresh:

Next, use tools to access ingredients:

If tools are not working, improvise:

Carefully pour ingredients into pot:

Make sure can is empty. Wouldn't want to waste any precious letters, now would we?.

Slice up European tube-steaks. Set icky end-bits aside:

Put cut-up tube steaks in pot.
Crud! Where did that 4th icky end-bit go?

Stir it all together:

Put pot on stove on mediumish heat:

Cover with lid. Or if you cannot find lid, save time by using frying pan from this morning's eggs.

Take note of the time. Add exactly about ten minutes. Stir while cooking, if you like. Or go lie on the couch. And rub your belly.

Presentation is important. It tempts the palate. Make sure that you have some toast on hand to cut up into strips. Serve with cold guava juice:

Don't forget all the vitamins and minerals that will make this a complete lunch. Enjoy!

Pregnancy Update: 4 Months and Counting!

2007-03-21T15:07:00.000-07:00

All the books I've read said that I'd start getting my energy back in the second trimester - they were right! I'm back to sleeping 10 hours a night - no more naps necessary during the day!

My nausea is mostly gone, but I'm still on 4 Diclectin a day for my digestion. I tried going off, but I got this weird "bubbly tummy" thing and lots of heartburn. Better to stick to what works, especially since Diclectin is a safe drug. I'll finish off this month, then try going off again.

As you can see, Peter took some photos of me. Then he had to take some more after I looked at the first batch. My mistake. I had the camera in a mode that required him to light meter and set the focus area. My hubby may be brilliant with computers, but when it comes to cameras, he's better off in dummy mode (also known as Auto Everything).

Last month's photos were taken right before I got the Norwalk Virus. I actually lost close to 5 pounds right after they were taken, but have managed to bounce back. As you can see, I'm starting to "pop" now. I've definitely got a bump and apparently I'm "carrying high" whatever that means.

My bump is hard as a rock and everyone seems to want to poke it to prove this. Some days I feel like my organs are under so much pressure I'm going to explode. Someone should make me a WHMIS warning sign. It would only be fair to Peter. Especially in the evening after dinner... Ah! Pregnancy is so glamorous!

We have an ultrasound on April 12th. Both of us are hoping to find out whether it's a boy or a girl. I know that the whole "knowing the sex of your baby" thing is controversial. I haven't yet met someone who's neutral on this issue, however our reasoning is this: Yeah, surprises are great but we're too dang curious NOT to find out now! Besides, I'd like to buy things ahead of time in colours other than green and yellow.

I've started moisturizing every day to try to avoid stretch marks - here's hoping!

Exciting news! We've found a home for our piano until we move. Friends of Shannon and Neil are taking it, which works out perfectly because their young daughter is interested in starting piano lessons. The extra room in the office will accommodate a crib/playpen. I've started emptying out a dresser and making room in the closet. I'm also painting some shelves to match the walls for some extra storage. We're almost ready to start accumulating baby stuff!

Speaking of which, we've made a list of "equipment", which can be found HERE. Check it out, especially all of you who are baby-savvy! Are we missing anything? Is there anything on our list that is useless? Input is appreciated!

Trapped in a biker's body?

2007-03-09T14:43:00.002-08:00

When I'm not teaching, sleeping or complaining about pregnancy, I'm bellydancing.

It has now officially been my all-consuming* hobby for 4 years. During that short period of time I have learned a lot about dancing - which I love! I've learned even more about the belly dancing community - which I find absolutely fascinating!

It is a thriving culture at many levels: from fishbowl (Vancouver Island) to aquarium (The Westcoast belly dance scene) to ocean (The many faces of international belly dance and fusion).

It is a world of personalities each of varying fame, each of different talents, images and reputations. Not unlike Hollywood's star culture, it can sometimes turn into a carnival of oogling, and gossip - we're dealing with a bunch of chicks who love the spotlight, after all.

While I DO enjoy ogling... at expensive costumes and I have, of course, developed ,my own still-expanding opinions on the styles and types of dance- and dancers we appreciate. Neither me, nor anyone I dance with takes themselves so seriously that it becomes an ego thing. We love dancing. We love dancing together and we love sharing our love of dance with others.

That being said, I have to admit that once, in a moment of boredom, I tried googling "Male Belly Dancer" because I was honestly intrigued... Really! You don't often see male belly dancers around. I mean, we've got Nath Keo on the island here, who's got a style all his own, but I've never seen any other males dance.

Anyhow, amongst the many flamboyantly interesting icons of male belly dance, (some veiled, some not), I ran into one that piqued my interest so much that I had to share him with my friend and dance-mate Sarah. His name is Jim Boz. He is not a girlyman at all.He has the build of a trucker, or maybe a biker, or perhaps a WWE wrestler - in any case, he's got an enormous torso and a neck thick as an oak tree. Looks like the type of guy you'd expect to see donning a skullcap helmet, riding a Harley, not dancing. Yet, he is an Egyptian-style bellydancer - in my opinion, the most poised and graceful kind! Fancy that!

Hmmm... I said to myself, I wonder if he can dance. Turns out he can. Very well. Technique? Flawless. Plus, his costumes are tasteful and manly-looking (at least for a belly dancer) he doesn't wear makeup beyond what is required on stage and apparently he's an amazing teacher and has a great sense of humour.

Well, it turns out he's teaching some workshops in Nanaimo coming up in May. How can I NOT go? The curiosity is practically killing me! I'm sure I can learn more than a thing or two from someone who has the soul of a dancer, but is wearing the body of a professional wrestler. Talk about rising above challenges!

* Time, money, interest, you name it...

Shortcuts to the nearest couch

2007-03-07T11:19:00.000-08:00

I'm not normally one who abides slacking off - but lately I have been looking for the shortest route to the couch. Due to my pregnancy and recent illnessesss (many plurals) I've recently developed an appreciation for doing nothing - well, not exactly doing nothing, because I mostly just want to sit there and be entertained... by Peter.

This poses a problem because Peter usually wants to be entertained by his computer - THAT IS when he is not:
a. working at his computer
b. researching at his computer
c. catching up on his RSS feeds at his computer
d. blogging at his computer
e. snogging with his computer
f. wiping his computer screen with windex

This is not helping with my clinginess! Need to cling!

I guess having to entertain oneself is one of the downfalls of not having cable. I never realized it though, not normally having the urge to become surgically implanted into my couch.

Usually I'm doing some kind of yoga video or trying to work on one of my many incomplete projects.

Really, I SHOULD be getting ahead of the pruning in the garden, or working on costumes for the big May dance recital (especially since most of the ones I now own will definitely not fit!) I could also make some kind of soup or stew - or even toss some ingredients into the breadmaker. I could definitely spend some time starting to clean out the baby's dresser and closet. I have shelves to paint, baseboards to paint and clothes to sort through. I could revise the Antonyms unit I've been working on for after spring break. There's also the shredding to do - and the fridge could use a once-over. And my desk is a mess.

Gee! I made a list! That felt pretty productive. I'm going to go sit on the couch now.

For the sake of science...

2007-02-27T16:37:00.001-08:00

Lovely, dear!

I've decided that, along with my bi-weekly preggy photos, I will be taking a picture of Peter, so that I can be sure he is not developing any of the womanny symptoms of couvade syndrome.

Chelle-boobs good.
Peter-boobs bad.

Meet Flipper.

2007-02-23T10:54:00.000-08:00

Today we had our first ultrasound!

At 13 weeks, it's actually quite early to have one, but having read up on the diagnostic advantages, I decided it's what I wanted to do.

Dr. Cooper is one of the 3 doctors in B.C. currently performing these tests, so we really lucked out in getting an appointment. He was very friendly and knowledgeable and made us feel comfortable and well-informed.

Great news all around! Flipper's measurements indicate that I am, indeed, 13 weeks pregnant - and that he/she is developing perfectly!

We got a very clear picture of our little one from head to toe and most of the time I could tell exactly which bit was which! Even though, from head to rump, Flipper is only about 6-7 cm long, he/she has the most adorable little hands and feet with five fingers/toes on each, two eyes, a strong heartbeat , a well-developed spine and even a nose bone (which is apparently an excellent sign this early!)

Our first view in the ultrasound was a bird's eye of Flipper's head, hands and feet. He/she was just bopping around like mad! It really hit home at that moment that I have a little living being in there - I couldn't stop giggling. What an amazing feeling!

Unfortunately we don't have any photos from this ultrasound, it being primarily diagnostic, but I will be sure to get some when we go in for our 18-week ultrasound at the end of March. But I did get Peter to take some pictures of me and my belly, so here are some 3-month photos:

Crappity crap crap...

2007-02-21T17:28:00.000-08:00

Just made a serious CLM.*

So, I have this OTHER BLOG that I update from time to time, which also shows up on my Blogger dashboard, only Ripples in the Pond is ALWAYS on top... ALWAYS!!!!

So, of course, without checking, I click on the blog at the top, like I normally do and type away. Then I hit "Publish" only to realize in !!HORROR!! that I had posted to my school blog.

So, of course, with much hyperventilating, I deleted the post as quickly as I could, but there are automatic updates sent out to a dozen or so parents and I have NO CLUE whether they have been sent yet. Peter thinks not. I reallyreallyreally hope not!

How embarassing.

'tupid, 'tupid Chelle. Pregnancy turn brain to mush.

* Career Limiting Move.

Trimester 2: Return of the Teacher

2007-02-21T17:26:00.000-08:00

Yes, yes, I know I promised a pregnancy photo, but I just haven't gotten around to making Peter take one, so this is a lovely crocus coming up in the Cedar Hill golf course.

I spent last weekend pondering a few facts:

- Running out of sick days
- Wonderful Teacher on Call who is replacing me has vacation booked
- Haven't barfed in a week - Diclectin appears to be working

...which led me to the conclusion that it wast time to go back to work.

So back I went on Monday with two (re-useable envorinmentally - friendly) shopping bags full of groceries to stock my class fridge.

The kids were happy to see me. I admit, I kinda missed them too. They have, thus far, been quite well-behaved. Maybe they sense my capacity for violent mood swings...
So, I've made it through most of the week (today being Wednesday) and will be booking off Friday (let's not push it!)

I've been surprisingly functional at work, but I'm pretty much useless when I get home in the afternoon. There is a lot of napping and blobbing involved in my evenings, which end at about 9:00 as I tuck myself into bed. Sleeping, however, is blissful.

I'd been wondering for most of my life why both my cat and my brother Jord (aptly nicknamed J-Bear) seemed to find sleeping so enjoyable, but now I know. It is the happiest, most perfect state of existence, especially with a body pillow and memory-foam mattress topper involved. I now have the capacity to go to bed at 9:00pm sleep in until 11:00am. This is unheard of for me. I'm expecting it to pass.

Chelle's Food top-three:

#1 - I love yogurt lately. Not that I didn't before, but now I can eat like a bucket a day, if I let myself. Currently the Olympic Organic blueberry-flavoured stuff is my tummy's nosh of choice.

#2 - Habitant yellow-can French Canadian pea soup. Soupalicious.

#3 - Homemade egg 'o' muffins: scrambled egg-whites, swiss cheese and fried ham on whole-wheat English muffins.

Do NOT eat in front of me:

#1 - Bananas - YES! BANANAS! My favourite fruit is currently a pariah in this house due to an unfortunate incident at dance class last Monday. Bad, bad, bad bananas.

#2 - Those Chinese rice snacks that you get in Dan-d-packs or in the bulk food section (also corn nuts). Did you know they smell like dirty hamster cage? Well, they do.

#3 - Sausage. Co-worker was eating sausage pasta in the staff room yesterday. Put me RIGHT off my lunch. (somehow does not apply to hot-dog weiners)

That's about it for today. I can't wait to go over to the mainland this weekend. I'm going to have lunch at my Grandma's new place on Sunday (a very nice assisted-living complex) - she can't wait to introduce me to the other ladies who sit at her table (tee hee! it's just like the cafeteria in high school!)

Out on a log.

2007-02-12T10:31:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago, I had the pleasure of a spontaneous visit from my bro. Mike (who I will affectionately refer to henceforth as "Moo").
Moo came out, on a whim, to take my place at the Barenaked Ladies concert on Jan. 31st and crashed at our place for the night. He and Peter enjoyed the show, which featured a cameo from Mr. Floatie, a local icon. I was sad to have missed it, but it was great to spand some time with Moo.

Anyhow, we went for a walk along Dallas Rd and down to the breakwater at Ogden point, because it was a beautiful day. And we took some pic-a-tures, which I will post to my flickr site. (Just click on the banner in the right hand column to get there!)

I miss my fam. It seems like a particularly long haul to Spring Break this year. Haven't been back to the mainland since New Year's, but Terry Fox Senior Secondary's 10-year reunion for the class of 1996 (that's me) is the weekend of the 24th, and I intend to attend.

I'm still torn about what to wear though... I've hit that awkward frumpy stage where I've got a bit of a belly, but it could be mistaken for pudge. My pants are getting tighter, but most of my t-shirts still fit, but it definitely looks like I've gotten a bit thicker around the middle.(I will take a 3-month photo this weekend)

So, either I go for cover-up mode and wear something loose and baggy that will conceal my frumpy state, or I enhance the bump and wear something empire-waisted that makes me look more bumpy than I am, and therefore clearly pregnant. Whaddaya think?

A tummy dialogue.

2007-02-09T10:37:00.000-08:00

It all started the second week of January: gestational week #7. Until then, I felt relatively normal - a few flitterings of excitement about being preggo and some minor bloating, but that's about it. Then, suddenly, my stomach turned on me (pun intended).

I soon discovered that when fighting off morning sickness at work, every action and decision must be done slowly and deliberately. No room for indecisiveness when tossing the cookies is imminent. As the venerable Yoda would say "Do or Do Not. There is no Try!"

I very quickly developed a brain/stomach dialogue:

Brain: O.K. stomach, I *know* you're upset, but I am standing up now. I am standing up to pull down the overhead screen - it will just take a second.

Stomach: Urble-glurp...glurble glurble.

Brain: You seem hungry. Do you want a bit of food? Maybe you'd like a cracker - just a few bites... Here, I'll swallow very slowly.

Stomach: Blrp...glurgle...rumblerumblerumble.

Brain: Now I'm just going to get up and we'll walk once around the class to check homework. Then I will sit down again. Yes, I promise, just once around the class.

Stomach:...gurglegurgle...GurgleGurgle...GURGLEGURGLEGURGLE!

Brain: Fine. So maybe I won't check homework today. I'll just sit right...back...down.

I figured I could make things work if I just changed my routine a bit. So I started munching on crackers and drinking ginger tea constantly. I also started sleeping 10 hours a night. Plus, I began taking every available moment to nap. For instance, my Tuesday prep. period is right after recess, so I just kicked back on the ol' staff room sofa for a nap. At the time my principal had no idea I was pregnant and stumbled upon me curled up on the couch in the fetal position. I'm not sure what he thought, but at the time I couldn't care less.

Unfortunately none of this was enough and I still came home feeling sick and exhausted with absolutely no energy to do my planning or marking. Hence my current stay-at-home situation.

Right now, I am averaging 15 blissful hours of sleep per day and getting practically nothing done. I admit, it's a huge change of pace for me. My body says "yay!" My sense of accomplishment is dead and cannot respond.

I still think it's amazing that something the size of a grape can be running my entire life. I guess I'd better get used to the idea!

Eating is hard work...

2007-02-02T14:13:00.000-08:00

Look what Peter did to me:

O.K., fine, so I kinda liked it, but that's not the point.

The point is that sometime in early September, all going as planned, we will be bringing a Peter/Chelle hybrid into the world! And if THAT is not scary enough for you, you should know that we intend to RAISE this little creature, possibly well into its twenties. This is a big step up from houseplants and the cat. We are talking real, live responsibility here. It is a very big "WOW!" for me!

Needless to say, we're thrilled. The timing is perfect and we were both hoping for this! Now, it's just a matter of surviving the first trimester. Which brings me to why I will be home for the next 2 weeks...

Many, many, many people told me about exactly how exhausted and desperate I would be for the first 3 months of my infant's life.

Nobody, nobody, nobody told me how exhausted and ill I would feel for the first 3 months of my pregnancy - at least not before I became pregnant NOW everyone is like, "Oh... yeah... that happens to some women." Uh huh. So eating and digesting food has become my daily challenge. Staying conscious and thinking straight for more than 2 hours at a time is right behind that. Needless to say, in my present condition, dealing with grade 8 students is not an option. So my obstetrician recommended I take a few weeks off, until I'm nearing the end of my 1st trimester (I'm about 10 weeks right now).

The time off has been glorious. All 2 days of it so far. I can sleep when I want to (lots and lots) and eat when I want to (not so much) and work when I want to (slowly chipping away at my marking pile).

I have so much to say about what I have experienced so far that I will post some more blogs in the near future. It's probable that you won't find my pregnancy nearly as fascinating as I am finding it, but I will plague you with the details anyways. And you have to read them. Because now I am pregnant and everyone knows that you have to keep pregnant women happy.

I think I am going to enjoy this...

Cringeworthy memories

2007-01-12T13:17:00.000-08:00

Grade 8 was not my best or brightest year at Mary Hill Junior Secondary School. I cringe at the thought of my school photo, I practically cracked the camera lens: the braces, the monochromatic sepia hair in a flattened-mushroom bob, the lack of make-up, the red, skin-tight jeans *shudder* it's no wonder I didn't even register on Dave's* radar.

I honestly don't know what I was thinking, although, having taught grade 8 for three years now, I'm fairly certain that, as a grade 8 student, I was incapable of thinking. Besides, I'm pretty sure that the lack of make-up was most likely my mom's doing. If she only knew what a bit of mascara and lip gloss could have done for my social life!

Things got better in grade 9. I got a perm, (this was a good thing at the time) started wearing Levis and figured out how to smile with braces on. By grade 10 I had things figured out, which set me up nicely for 2 wonderful years at high school.

But back to grade 8... Lately, I've found it strange that I ended up teaching the very grade that brings back the most cringe-worthy memories for me. Sometimes watching the kids interact, particularly during social time, I am right back at Mary Hill. Often these flashbacks make me struggle with my own role as a "serious, responsible pseudo-guardian".

Yesterday, I overheard Sally complaining, "Tommy's so annoying, sometimes I just want to kick him in the junk!" (Tee hee.)

Now, while this is clearly an inappropriate thing to be saying in my class, or in anyone else's for that matter, (Sally, the proper word is "testes",) I can't help but identify with Sally. Tommy IS annoying and I remember thinking EXACTLY THE SAME THING about several boys in my own grade 8 class**. (BTW They SO dezervd it 2 LOL!)

Besides, now that I am a (responsible) adult, I now know that most grade 8 boys can't help it. They've just noticed that girls exist, but have no concept of how to make girls notice them, so they resort to their grade three toolbox of attention-getting techniques: fart jokes, barnyard noises, roughhousing and stealing pencil boxes. It's all very charming.

I'm not sure what my point is, but I guess that I can sum it all up by saying that it's way better TEACHING grade 8 than being in grade 8. It's a small consolation, but I'm not sure that I could say that about teaching any other grade.

* You'll have to ask Karyn about this one. The only thing that makes being a dweeby grade 8 nobody even worse is having a crush on a grade 10 boy.
** Karyn to Greg Jensen: "So, where do you think I would kick you, if I had the chance? Where?"

There's a Hole, there's a Hooooole....

2007-01-09T19:43:00.000-08:00

... there's a hole in the side of my nose!

Thanks to Beanie, I worked up my courage and got my nose pierced. I'd been tempted to for awhile, but having a friend (albeit an insane one) there for moral support who was also getting pierced, made the difference. Wasn't that bad, considering I HATE needles and regularly pass out after blood tests.

No, there was no anesthetic. Yes, they used a big pointy needle. Yes, it did hurt, but with the help of some deep breathing, I got through the worst of it. Although, come to think of it, the worst part was actually having a cork shoved up my nose. That bit was really uncomfortable and I looked like a complete dweeb.

Anyhoo, I now have a little sparkly blue nose stud in a little hole that I painstakingly flush 4 times a day with saline solution.
I think the whole thing looks really subtle and cute. So far no one has dared to say otherwise... anyone...dare?

Here is a pick-a-ture of me and Beanie with our little nosies. My vanity begs you to please note that I am NOT wearing any make-up, hence my washed-out look.

Puddles.

2007-01-05T10:27:00.000-08:00

See? Absolutely irrisistible. You'd get your hand mangled, too.

Beware of fuzzy puddles.

2007-01-04T15:55:00.000-08:00

There is a fuzzy puddle
reposing on my bed
which wears these striped pyjamas with
two pointies on its head.

It seems to have four soft, round limbs
Each ending in sharp hooks
Despite this, I am certain
It's as cuddly as it looks.

As my feet pad nearer,
I meet with a surprise
It has two lovely kohl-lined streaks
Which open into eyes.

And underneath? Some spiny teeth
encased in soft, pink trim.
And - I'll be hung! Out peeks a tongue -
This critter looks quite dim.

On the other banded end,
a slowly swishing tail,
and some vestigial evidence:
this puddle must be male.

My tender hand now hovers
o'er luxurious expanse:
that rotund, bulging belly
clad in plush pyjama pants.

When abruptly I remember:
just last week upon my couch
I tried to touch this puddle
and it ended with an "OUCH!"

And yet my hand continues down,
as though in fate entangled,
and that is why, my dearest friends,
it looks like it's been mangled.

RT 2007

Echo Sounding

2006-12-31T11:37:00.000-08:00

On the shallow side:

It was a good birthday/Christmas season for Chelle. Giving was fun. Receiving was also fun, perhaps funner.
I received (and bought) many very cool things this holiday season, including a multi-green Triclimate jacket which is complimented by this uber-cute toque that I bought in Whistler (pictures soon to be posted). I bought the toque and was soooo ready to hit the slopes. But that didn't really happen. I don't actually own ski boots that fit me... or skis for that matter... or even ski pants...or the desire to go skiing, really. But anyhow, the toque rocks.

Getting Deeper:

This Christmas was the first true test of my new eating regime. Confronted by juicy ham, verdant asparagus, the finest Merlot and an array of tantalizing chocolaty/nutty/creamy desserts, I held my own.
Yup. Canned peaches for dessert: not that bad.
I can honestly say that I have not had a single taste of chocolate since July! Somehow that came out sounding more depressing than inspirational.

Ocean Floor:

I think that the honeymoon period is officially over. It's been almost 6 years since we've known each other, but lately, when I think about our relationship, I've been experiencing apathy, avoidance, negative thoughts and denial. We've taken a break from each other, but it is inevitable that we will have to face each other soon. I know how supportive all of you are, so I don't mind telling you that it's not going so well between me and my work.

It's nothing that either one of us has done. Teaching has been my constant and faithful companion for a long time now, providing me with a new challenge every day, a minimally increasing paycheque and plenty to do in my nonexistent spare time. I've always been there for work, giving it my 100%, sticking to things when I'm frustrated or tired, marking into the wee hours of the evening... I even try not to go to bed angry about our day together.

It's not even that teaching has been particularly hard this year, in fact, it's probably been our best year together yet. I've got 3 great classes, 2 wonderful teaching partners and, usually only 1 lesson to plan per night. Yet, the thought of flinging myself back into the classroom on Monday is making me exhausted. Why? Why,why,why,why,WHY!?

You know in Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail in the Swamp Castle scene, when Herbert's father keeps trying to spell out his son's inevitable future as king of the Swamp Castle:

KING OF SWAMP CASTLE:
When I first came here, this was all swamp. Everyone said I was daft to build a castle on a swamp, but I built in all the same, just to show them. It sank into the swamp. So I built a second one. That sank into the swamp. So I built a third. That burned down, fell over, then sank into the swamp. But the fourth one stayed up. And that's what you're going to get, Lad, the strongest castle in all of England.

But Prince Herbert has already decided that he is not interested in inheriting Swamp castle as his dad suggests:

HERBERT:
But I don't want any of that. I'd rather--
KING:
Rather what?!
HERBERT:
I'd rather...
[rising crescendo of symphonic music]
...just... SING!

That's me right now. Only I'd rather just [dance/knit/blog/do yoga] pretty much for the rest of my life. The thrill is gone.

Pour mes ami(e)s blilingues.

2006-12-12T17:41:00.000-08:00

Every day, I thank Le Bon Dieu that I know how to speak French.
Not because I spend half of my day crowing at lazy French Immersion students "parlez Français, les élèves!" or because I enjoy constantly correcting fossilized errors: "tu ES fini?* Alors, va te creuser une tombe!" "La bouteille regarde rempli - les bouteilles n'ont pas des yeux!"** but because it has basically made me my living.

Every single job that I have held for the past 10 years has been because I am bilingual. N'est-ce pas formidable?

Sometimes I have trouble convincing my students that it is worth the effort to speak a second language. They prefer to gab away in English when they can get away with it because, face it, it's much easier to gossip, waste class time and trash your peers in your mother tongue. I thank my wonderful colleagues, Selena and Todd for being my constant companions in fighting the "PARLEZ FRANÇAIS!" battle.

Well, today I give all you French-knowing people the gift of laughter. Thanks to my aforementioned colleague, Todd, I discovered the most rigolo site ever. Check it out, and don't be embarased if you have to play it a few times to get the slang.

Check out the Hallowe'en one. Vous allez rire à tue-tête.

http://www.tetesaclaques.tv/video.php?vid=30

* Je suis fini = I am dead, whereas J'ai fini = I am done.
** La bouteille a l'air rempli is the correct way to say this.

Shiny new floors.

2006-11-13T18:09:00.000-08:00

I had been coasting along with my busy weekly routine since September, with only two major interruptions. One being the nasty cold that I got towards the end of September and the other being some extra girls around the house after Thanksgiving. Neither managed to break my resolve to get on with my carefully orchestrated routines, such as "The Sunday Night Filling of the Crock Pot," "Saturday Morning Chores" and "Wednesday Afternoon Classroom Defragmentation" and "The Thursday Evening Marking Marathon". These routines have been created, through a delicate process of trial and error, to allow me enough free time to nurture my relationships with my husband, cat, couch and, occasionally, blog. Yes, things were going well.

Then came the laminate floors. A brilliant idea the resulted in three solid weekends of work that knocked me off my horse. It was all worth it, though. The floors look amazing, feel amazing and are much easier to clean then carpet.

There are still a few things to do, such as finishing my baseboards, transition strips and quarter rounds, but that will come. For now, I'm just very thankful to have an amazing husband and a wonderful, generous and tool-rich father that helped me to bring this not-so-simple project to fruition.

Through the magic of photography, I have documented the final two weekends of our flooring adventure. Click HERE to see what we've been up to around the house...

Slowly chipping away...

2006-10-25T17:55:00.000-07:00

So, everyone knows that I love pugs. Yet, despite me explaining, often in great detail, their immense cuteness and universal appeal, I have not succeeded in converting the entire universe into pug-lovers. So today, I will post conclusive evidence that pugs are the best dogs for Fall. Particularly Halloween.

To do this, I will display a random assortment of jpegs I've pulled from various emails received lately.

Warning: Indisputable cuteness ahead!

Aww! What can be more adorable than a pair of Pug-dogs.

Oh no! Look out, it's Pug Vader.

He may be small and wrinkly, but his cuteness is a force to contend with, it's Pugda!

Eeeeek! It's an unbearably huggable spugder!

A puggagator (or maybe a puggadile, not sure.)

If only the cat were easier to dress up. I can simultaneously picture him in a Mao tse-tung costume and me with his claws embedded in my forehead.

I like yams, kind of.

2006-10-16T17:18:00.000-07:00

The wave of madness has passed and things are back to normal. Well, as normal as things can be, considering.
I figure that fall must finally be here, considering our now leaf-carpeted lawn which, as of Sunday was bare from raking. I pulled up the tomatoes. We lost a few to the cold, but I can't eat them anyways, so it's Peter's loss.

Dad's coming out in November with his chainsaw to demo-late the two non-plum trees that I tried my best to nurse back to health last year, to no avail. Darn things just get infested with little squiggly wormies twice a year and their leaves look as holey as the bum of some hirsuite oaf's tighty-whities.

We're also planning on installing laminate while he's here, which means I'd better start dismantling the bookcase so we can pull back the carpet for prep work. I'm not actually very sure how much work this whole laminate installation thing will entail, but I'm expecting the worst. We've got those crappy stick-on parquet tiles under our carpet and I figure we'll need to do some filling and levelling. It will all be worth it in the end, though. Just today I was pulling my hair out as the cat tracked his muddy paws over our not-so-white carpet.

On a completely different note, I have discovered that I can handle eating yams 1. in very small portions 2. if they're yam fries. This has excited me enough to use them in a stew, which I will be eating shortly. Mmmmm... smells good! Make that VERY shortly.

Spas and lazer beam eyes.

2006-10-10T21:55:00.000-07:00

Thanksgiving was wonderful! Granted, the accomodations were a bit crammed with all of us and our plates, but it all worked out, and the turkey was tender and fabulous (which makes any crammedness seem trivial.) Kudos to Shannon!

It was great having my folks come out to the island for a weekend. Mom and I spent most of a morning at the Grotto Spa. Love spas. Just love them. In fact, I wish I could be in a spa every single day.

Even better, if I could have any job, it would be to travel around to all the best international spas and write comprehensive reviews about all of their treatments (to which I would have to be subjected first, of course) for some ultra-posh magazine. This, to me would be the *perfect* job!

Speaking of perfect, if the world were perfect then I would have some crazy super-power like lazer-beam eyes, or telekinesis (Beanie, I'm with you on this one) or maybe the ability to just plain vaporize ignorant, self-centered thorn-in-your-side ibiots and norons that make the lives of all those that they encounter miserable.

I know we're supposed to forgive folks a thousand times over, but after the first few times, you can get pretty fed up with some folks, especially if they keep on doing the same irresponsible or just plain dumb and annoying things over and over. This is why I need to become the Instant Karminator - dispensing instant karma where it is needed most. Wha-BANG!!!

Come on... there must be some kind of government funding for this kind of thing!

All right, most of you have probably guessed that She-who-cannot-be-named has struck again. Even Voldemort would cower from this super-nemesis. Yet here I am, having to be all polite and not-exploding-like in the face of sheer INSANITY!

Man, could I ever use a trip to the spa right about now.

Or lazer beam eyes...

Knitting and Dr. Who

2006-09-27T15:58:00.000-07:00

I learned how to knit almost exactly three years ago. I got it in my head that I wanted to present my dear hubband with a unique Christmas gift: something meaningful and homemade. So, I set to work making the world's largest scarf, which stretched a full 16 ft. upon completion. This scarf was modeled after the one worn by Tom Baker during some late 70s Dr. Who episodes. By the way, if you've ever been forced to watch old Dr. Who episodes, you'll know what the word "excruciating" means.

Two words: Low. Budget. Like the kind of low budget where someone says, "Hey Bob! If we spraypaint this old kitchen trashcan silver and attach some bubble wrap, it will look *exactly* like a space alien robot!"
Then someone else says, "Great idea, Joe - but let's glue on a few plungers too..."

Oh, then there's the music. Give George the gibbon in your local primates zoo an old Kawai synthesizer to play with and he'd probably come up with a better theme song. I won't even MENTION the incidental music...

Special effects? More like "special needs" effects. "Hmmm. Maybe if I lie on the floor and roll around with the camera it will make it look like you're warping through space!"

Yet somehow, Peter loves these shows. Hence the idea for the scarf, which he also loves, but does not wear often enough to prove that he truly loves me.

Anyhow, I'm back at knitting again, but can only remember one type of stitch. The knit stitch. Just can't seem to recall how to purl.

You'd think that the many diagrams on the internet would help, but I manage to bung it up every time I try. Oh, and my knitting mentor, Peter's mom, is in Toronto at present, which makes me sad, because I miss her and her knitting wisdom. What am I going to do when I have to cast off?

Anybody out there know how to purl (and cast off, too!) and willing to come over this weekend to help me?

I'll knit you a scarf in return!

"I found it on the floor" and other idiocies.

2006-09-19T17:43:00.000-07:00

Today a quiz was writ in my Science class. There was much moaning and carrying on by those who did not study (only 3 or 4 students per class, thankfully).
The quiz was multiple choice, which meant that everyone needed a pencil, because I love Scantron for multiple choice*.

A student (who I will call "Jamie" so as not to give away his/her gender or identity) forgot his/her pencil. In fact, in the 2 weeks we've had of school so far, he/she has usually neglected to bring anything of use to class, despite just being given a lockerfull of school supplies by his/her parents.

Says me: " Jamie, you'll need a pencil for this test."

Says Jamie: "It's O.K., I'll just use my pen."

Me: "Good luck with that. As I just explained to the class, the Scantron machine will only pick up pencil."

Jamie:"Oh. Well you could just correct it yourself."

Me: "No way. You are not any more special than all of the other special people in this class. Now borrow a pencil from someone."

The moment I utter these words, you can hear 24 pencil boxes and pencil cases snapping and zipping shut, then being shoved underneath desks. Suddenly, all other students seem engrossed in printing their names, letter by letter, on their Scantron sheets. Clearly Jamie has a poor track record for returning borrowed goods.

Jamie seems unperturbed by this and is now digging around in his/her ear with a knuckle.

Me: "Go get a pencil from your locker."

Jamie: "Uh.... O.K."

I proceed to tour the class, handing out scrap paper and reassuring the overachievers. The standard pre-test routine.

A minute later, I'm back at Jamie. It is amazing: Jamie actually has a pencil in his/her hand. I am about to share my heartiest congratulations when I notice that the pencil looks familiar. It is my pencil. (S)he has taken it off my podium, which happens to be a meter in front of his desk. It was hooked onto my binder, where I keep it so that it does not fall on the floor.

Me: "I see you have a pencil now."

Jamie: "Uh-huh."

Me: "Did you get it from your locker?"

Jamie: "Yes."

Me: "Try again. Did you get it from your locker?"

Jamie: "Uh, it's mine, it was on the floor. I found it."

Me: "Really?"

Jamie: "Yes."

Me: " The correct answer is no. Actually, that pencil is mine. You "found" it on my podium. Where I keep MY things. See: it has my name on it."

Jamie: "Where? Oh. There. Uh..."

Me: "You need to go out in the hall now, before I explode."

This incident hearkened back to one particular grade 5 memory. Jason, an idiotic idiot that I hated intensely, once stole my very cool big, fat, multicoloured pen that had those little spring pushy-down things for every colour and there were like twenty different colours like light blue and magenta and I bought it with my own allowance money so it was, like, extra special to me.

Anyhow, he swiped it off my desk, or so I figure, and then whited out my name, which I had printed very neatly on the top using a Sharpie. Then, when confronted, he claimed that it was his, and later, that he had found it on the floor. For ten agonizing minutes, I had lost my favourite pen because of some thieving idiotic idiot.

Thankfully, I was a really big whiner and a teacher's pet. Also, white out scratches off plastic extra-easily, so I got my pen back and Jason (much like our buddy Jamie) got a big ol' DE-TEN-TION. Muah-ha-ha!!

*20 minutes to write the test, and 5 minutes to mark it. Truly a teacher's best friend.

The monster under my lab table.

2006-09-11T19:35:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought I'd have to go out and BUY some more plastic-lunchy-storage type containers, I'm back in business!

At the end of June our Lost and Found bins were emptied. School's only been on for a week and they're already brimming with the fruits of parents' salaries. Hoodies, lunch bags, gym shoes, pencils and pens - but don't forget the tupperware! And get this: none of them have names on them! What are parents thinking these days?! Sending pre-teens to school without their names sewn into their underwear. Just plain irresponsible, I say.

I posted a big sign in my classroom that reads:

"DON'T LEAVE YOUR BELONGINGS IN MY CLASSROOM!
Keep them in your locker.
That is why you have a locker - to keep things SAFE.
If you leave your belongings in this room overnight, I won't be held responsible for them.
If they are labeled with your name, they will be put into my Lost and Found bin.
If they are not, I will hold them up during Advisory class to be claimed. If unclaimed, they will be eaten by the monster that lives under my lab table.
You will not see them again."

I think the message is pretty darn clear.

So far, the monster under my lab table has eaten a couple of really nice unlabeled Rubbermaid sandwich containers and a primo Lock & Lock veggie box. After a cleansing trip through the dishwasher on the super-hot cycle, they are ready to add to my well-labeled collection.

Ah, the fringe benefits...

What to eat?

2006-09-03T16:52:00.000-07:00

Antibiotics are your friends...Except when you're on them constantly to fight off ridiculous re-occurring bugs that seem to have an unexplained monopoly over your excretory organs' real-estate.
When western-medicine type doctors (and their blood tests, ultra sounds and sticking-cameras-up-tiny-orifices) can't seem to provide any concrete answers, it's time to talk to the quacks. Or, as I like to call them, Practitioners of Alternative Medicine - most of whom are actually real medically-trained doctors, by the way. Who knew?

Just a couple of weeks ago, spurred by recurrent infections and my open-minded western-medicine doctor, I went to both a Nutritionist and Naturopath specializing in allergies and, compiling the information received from those sources, I concluded that a change of diet is in order. That's right. No more eating half a tub of cream cheese. Even with crackers. Especially with crackers!

I learned that I am sensitive to many types of foods. Although I may not have violent allergic reactions to most of these, they can cause digestive and skin problems and can also compromise my immune system. A taxed immune system is, of course, way less efficient in fighting off nasty bugglies.

Here is the huge and daunting list of things I responded negatively to:
- milk protein, which is present in most dairy products (including cheese)
- egg yolks (whites are disgusting, but fine to eat)
- pork and all pig-type products (awww... No more weenies!)
- tomatoes and any tomato-related things
- all nuts and any nut-related things (especially peanuts)
- all oils except canola oil
- grapes and any grape-related things (includes wine)
- anything with caffeine in it (includes chocolate)
- acidic fruits such as orange, lemon, pineapple...
- some veggies, including asparagus, cauliflower and peppers of all colours
- pungent herbs and spices including garlic, chili powder, curry and cayenne
- shellfish including prawns, shrimp, mussels and crabs (probably lobster, too)
- White flour (but whole wheat seems fine)
- Aspartame
- Nasty additives including: sulfites, sulfates, nitrites, nitrates, dyes (especially red) BHA, BHT, MSG, Sulfur Dioxide, Benzoic Acid and HVP.
- Mold, Tobacco smoke, Grass and Carpet.

But, most importantly...
POTATOES!!
Yes, that's right. Now I officially have a reason to hate potatoes! For some reason, all members of the nightshade family (including eggplant) seem to be my enemies! So I say "Ha!" to my very persistent parents (and many so-called friends) who constantly badgered me to consume those vile tubers... "Potatoes are bad for me!"

So, with all of this hanging over my head, I have had to gradually adjust my eating habits. I am phasing out most dairy products, except mozzarella cheese and yogurt. I will later post my results of my Soy Beverage taste tests.
I'm eating only whole wheat breads and pastas. I'm making my own salad dressings and avoiding nuts and all fruits and veggies that I can't have. Pasta sauces have been a challenge... Particularly since I LOOOOVE tomato sauce.

The trickiest things are the additives. They're in practically EVERYTHING: dried fruit, cereals, deli meats, any pre-packaged foods. Trying to find a can of condensed soup without MSG in it was impossible! A warning to the curious: food labels can be scary!

I think that I will miss cheese, tomatoes, peanut butter and prawns the most. Oh wait. Chocolate too.

But hopefully, if all goes well, I won't miss the antibiotics...

Land, ho!

2006-09-03T16:21:00.000-07:00

Being on summer vacations is like sailing through calm, tropical waters: letting the wind, the tides and the sun lead you wherever you might go. Enjoying the companionship of your crewmates (Mao and Peter) and the friendly sea-creatures you pass (friends and family), whilst avoiding shark-infested waters (thinking about back-to-school.)

Going back to school is like having to return to some sordid port on a small, polluted, overcrowded island... with pirates. And cannibals. Slogging your way through ten landlocked months with only your trusty ship-mates to keep you from trying to keelhaul yourself.

And here the metaphor dies.

Fun in the Garden

2006-08-27T11:27:00.000-07:00

The Tyrrells (sr. and jr.) and Bryants went to Butchart Gardens yesterday. I had never been there during the summertime and was both thrilled and claustrophobic (there were, like, a million kazillion tourists there!) I spent pretty much the whole time taking pictures and having a blast with Hallie and James, who have enough energy between them to put a nuclear power plant out of business. We stayed for the fireworks, which were absolutely phenomenal! As James put it, while reviewing my photos after the display. " I saw dat one! Firewekks - Big and Yeoud!"
Peter and I bought annual passes, so I will be sure to give my new camera a workout whenever I can.
I'll be uploading more pics to flickr. soon.

The damage done with a single spoon.

2006-08-25T16:54:00.000-07:00

I'm analysing my diet in order to develop a plan to control recurring IC and UTIs, which have plagued me for years and years.
The deal is that I record my food consumption for 4 days straight, including the times amd portion sizes and as much detailed information as possible; a bit time consuming, but relatively simple.

You should try doing this for a few days. When you have to write everything down (and subsequently show it to a doctor and nutritionalist) you sure think about what you put in your mouth...and how much of it. Or so the theory goes.
I am on day 4. For the past 3 days, I've eaten on the "very well" side of "normal". My food diary was lookin' pretty good. Gold star material.

But today, I've been a very bad girl.

In front of me sits a spoon. A TABLEspoon. Its luster concealed by an incriminating thin, streaky, creamy layer of white.
Without thinking, upon returning from work* today, I went immediately to the fridge and ate no less than a half-tub of cream cheese (the full-fat philly kind) with a spoon. a TABLEspoon!!!

Crap. Just crap.
I'd better go eat some crackers quick, so I can write 1/2 tub of cream cheese and 20 crackers. That sounds less freakish, right?

Darn. How am I going to explain dinner @ Pagliaccis tonight?

*went in to work to set up my classroom

The love life of Mr. Mao.

2006-08-17T10:35:00.000-07:00

My cat is no Casanova. Although (generally) friendly towards most humans, he is quite ornery towards other felines. This is why it is so surprising that he has a very voluntary lady friend. We call her Lady Marmalade and she comes around 2, sometimes 3 times a day, but only to visit Mao.

Here's how things generally go:

After a lovely snooze in his favourite sleeping place of the month, Mao decides it's time to go out and survey his kingdom.

He yowls for his human-slave, who obligingly opens the back door, and he heads down the stairs to the back yard.

Relaxing on the dessicated grass, he picks up a scent...

Lady Marmalade has arrived, via her normal route: right through the garden fence. She scans the yard and gives a few plaintive meows, "where are you, honey-buns?"
Then, after locating Mao, she heads towards him, mewing happily and plops down a couple of feet away from him on the grass.

Mao is not generally good at sharing. When he feels he's been infringed upon sufficiently, he hisses and gives chase, forcing the Lady back behind the garden fence.

Unpreturbed, she comes back for more. Placing herself a strategic distance from Mao, she plops down on the lawn and stretches out, looking at him longingly.

Ah... unrequited love.

Happy Lucky Day

2006-08-17T09:55:00.000-07:00

Today, while Peter blogs about his encounter with the stinky gym-man, I will blog about our anniversary.

It is our 3rd Anniversary of marriage today. That means it's been about 5 1/2 years since I've known Peter. I could write a whole essay on how I feel about Peter and how I'm feeling today, but it all boils down to two things:

1. I am so happy.
2. I am so lucky.

A life! A life!

2006-08-13T09:31:00.000-07:00

I remember way back when...
I used to see my friends and do fun things on an almost daily basis. Now it's limited to one week a year. That's right for ONE WEEK ONLY Rachelle gets her social life back!
It all started with Selena (a.k.a. Beanie) wanting to go to the waterslides. "What a phenomenal idea!" said I, who had only ever been to Splashdown on unbelievably crowded days, with hordes of screeching day camp kids in tow. Karyn joined us, and that made 3. Which is a good number.
Regrettably, I did not take a picture of us with our tubes, as I had planned, but if I had, you'd see that it was both cold and soggy out. The disadvantage being that we were forced to thaw periodically in the soupy murksome child-infested hot tub. The advantage being that there were absolutely no lineups. Well, at least none that I didn't create using my teacher-voice. Darned rugrats trying to steal my tube...

I went back to Karyn's apartment in Vancouver and admired her bamboo floors. We then went to see "an Inconvenient Truth". It struck a chord. Since arriving home, inspired by this film, I have replaced all non-reading-lamp lights in our home with compact fluorescents and have seriously considered purchasing a Vespa.
Upon returning home, we discovered that Geoff, Karyn's boyfriend. No. Hang on, "Boyfriend" gives the wrong impression. Maybe it should be "partner" - but I don't like that word. Anyhow, Geoff is the charming francophone computer-geek PhD. student that Karyn has been dating for a few years, who is now (along with his redundant 2 mattresses and bedframe) living with her. Anyhow, point being, he had locked himself out of the apartment which, to all witnessing the tale, seemed only a minor inconvenience to him. He also told me about a scary Punk/Heavy Metal band that has a frightening chrome monster-pig as a logo (now, was it Motorpig Death-something - gawd! Can't remember). Anyhow, point being that all charming computer-geek type males seem to be attracted to some form or another of absolutely horrible music.

We woke up the next day and went grocery shopping at the insane deli counter at Santa Barbara, on Commercial. Then, prompted by the sunshine, undertook an equally insane walk all the way around the Seawall, from Science World. Approx. 16-17 k. all-told.

That night, I went out for Korean food with Amanda. It was awesome to have her expertise in selecting menu items because, when it comes to Korean food, I have been absolutely clueless in the past!
After dinner, we roped Stewart, her hubby, into coming out with us for some Gelato at Mario's. Stewart has this ongoing dare for Amanda to get Rum& Raisin with Bubblegum, but she won't bite. With that much selection, why get something you don't want?

I headed into PoCo on Thursday day and visited Beanie. After having convinced her to start a blog (which I am now linked to). I figured she needed some blog photos. So we had a little photo shoot in her apartment. I even convinced her to don her wig, which I think is ultra-cool! BTW. Selena's cat is THE DEVIL! I won't post the picture, and I'll leave it up to her to explain.

Finally, I spent some time with Tracey and Paul and their 1-year-old, Owen. They have just moved into a lovely, spacious home in Walnut Grove (Langley). I can't believe how fast babies grow! Last time I saw Owen he was barely crawling, now he's stomping and lurching around like a tiny Tyrannosaurus Rex.
He has a great enjoyment of trucks - especially big, white ones, so every time we went out for a walk, we picked the busiest road possible to keep him entertained.
Paul did his best to fix the damage incurred on my hip by my overly ambitions Seawall hike and Tracey made a delicious fajita dinner, while juggling a tot.

Friday, we headed back to Victoria together. After missing the 3 o'clock ferry, we were hopeful to get the 4 but, O! CRUEL FATE! the Ferry Traffic Person stuck out his terrible hand and stopped us RIGHT BEFORE the boat. We were the ones who almost got on the ferry. Nothing sucks more. Amazing how one small hand gesture can mean the difference between the luckiest and unluckiest people in the world.

I arrived home with the Turners 'round dinner time and found that my new camera had arrived. It is missing one lens, which is on backorder, but I didn't end up having to pay a ton of duty, like I expected. The next day, we went for an afternoon stroll to our local park (taking busy streets, of course!) and I took some photos of the little family having fun, using my ridiculously large 70-300 telephoto lens.
We saw the Turners off after dinner and then... NOTHING.

All is back to normal. Just me, Peter, the cat, the new season of Deadwood and my to-do list.

Well, my life was fun, while it lasted!

Attack of the Consumerism.

2006-08-07T19:14:00.000-07:00

Here is the problem: When I'm not working, I have no money, but lots of time to shop. When I am working, I have money, but no time to go shopping. Being the good girl I am, here are some things I've thought about buying this summer that I will put off until the fall, or perhaps Christmas.

Stemless martini glasses.

At-home foot spa.

A handy-dandy rotary tool.

My favourite shampoo and conditioner.

Lululemon Clay Court Dress

I have already spent my signing bonus prior to even receiving it, so these will remain dreams for the moment...

Just one small thing.

2006-08-07T09:18:00.000-07:00

I live in a very small house. Correction, my husband, my overweight cat and I live in a very small house.

Yes, it is a house and it has 2 bedrooms, but most normal 2 bedroom apartments are usually 1000-1200 square feet. Our wee housie is 794. I have stopped saying "800" because, believe me, at the moment I'd REALLY appreciate the extra 6 sq. ft.

Certain things tend to decrease the size of one's house, as well. For instance:

- I am home for the summer, hence AT home more than I normally am.

- We just came back from spending more than a week at the beach house, which could swallow our home 5 or 6 times over.

- Since Peter works at home, the 2nd bedroom is his office, effectively reducing our home to a 1 bedroom home. When Peter passes gas in the Living Room, our home is effectively reduced to 0 sq. ft. of liveable space for the span of about 20 minutes.

- Morgan has been out visiting for the last while. She sleeps on the sofa bed (which takes up most of the living room) and since there is no closet space free, she gets to keep her possessions on the living room floor. I've noticed that, as she has hit her growth spurt, she's starting to take up more room around the place, too. (Or maybe I'm just jealous that at age 12 she's almost as tall as me!)

- My Grandma Laughton's piano, which has been jammed in for good measure, is occupying 1/4 of the office. I would NEVER want to sell it, but right now, I'm desperate for someone to babysit it for 2 years or so, until we move into a bigger place and actually have room to pull out the bench and play it.

Some may wonder why the heck we bought such a tiny place. Put yourself in February 2005. The market was peaking. Houses were being bought mere seconds after signs went up. We'd just been shown 10- odd homes in the suburbs (Langford/Colwood). Our realtor got us in to tour this place as soon as it popped up. The inspector had been through. We had 30 minutes to decide if we wanted to put in an offer.

Our conversation went something like this:

"The inspection went really well, Chelle."

"Peter, it's really small..."
"Yes, but it's not a dump like the other ones we've looked at in our price range."

"But it is pretty small..."
"It doesn't smell like cat pee and kimchi!"

"Yes, but I want to live somewhere for a few years and it's quite small."
"I know, but there's no teen hangout nearby, unlike that other place we just saw..."

"I know...the area is really nice."
"And the house is immaculate."

"The yard could use some work..."
"But you're good at that, Chelle."

"I suppose. I am practically in love with the place."
"Then let's do it!"

And so, here we are. With our very charming, really small, non-kimchi-and-cat-pee-smelling house.

When I went to purchase home insurance, the lady kept on asking me silly questions:

"Does it have a garage?"
"No."

"Does it have a parking pad?"
"No.*"

"What about a sundeck?"
"Nope."

"A porch?"
"Nuh-uh."

"A sunroom, greenhouse or gazebo?"
"No, no, no."

"A workshop?"
"Non."

"A shed?"
"Nay."

"A finished basement?"
"Nein."

"Any type of outdoor patio?"
"Negative."

"Pool or hot tub?"
"Are you kidding here?"
"Actually, I'm not."
"Well then, No."

It is very cute, though. If not packed. We are determined to live here for another 2 years or so. Hopefully enough time to grow into our Mortgage...
Until then, we continue to live by the "one in, one out" rule. Clutter is the enemy.

* We have been borrowing our neighbor's parking pad. He's an elderly gentleman who doesn't drive and appreciates a car being there, so that it looks like someone's home.

The Shuswap Chronicles, Part 2: The Vacation

2006-08-03T19:23:00.000-07:00

After the late night light show, we were all a bit sluggish getting out of bed the next morning. It was another glorious day.
As usual, Michael and Dad were eager to take advantage of the morning calm that had followed the storm, so they headed out for a waterski, with Peter as the spotter. I enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with Mom and Morgan. Like most of our days at the Lake, the second was spent mainly on the beach, either reading or swimming.
In general, at Shuswap, a chunk of the day is spent in the boat as it tows willing victims on a whole array of floating parephenalia. Sometimes we just drive out to the middle of the lake and go in for a swim in the cool, deep, duck mite-free water. This trip was no exception; all the traditional and beloved Shuswap vacation fun was had, as it has been for 20 years: The ice cream, the mini-golf, the campfires, the crazy brothers and cousins with their "marshmallow" wars, the middle-of-the-lake baseball game using only a boat paddle, a tube and an old deflated football...
I managed to read my way through 4 novels in a week - sheer paradise! Morgan and I made pendants and sculptures out of polymer clay. Peter read some very heavy literature and got a sunburn. Moo showed me how to produce my own electronica. Auntie Janet, Uncle Bob, Kevin and Ross made an appearance, along with the loveliest dunderdog (a.k.a. Ginger) and the supa-fly thrill machine (a.k.a. their boat). Jord arrived on the 29th announcing that he had just delivered a baby.* We had a double birthday party for him to celebrate (he also turned 21 on the 1st of August). Mao escaped just long enough to get me nervous one night, but was generally well behaved.
Dad and Moo occupied themselves on the beach by balancing rocks. If you've never seen this done, I assure you that it is quite impressive and takes more patience and skill than I can muster. Soon the beach was an Easter Island of figures made from precariously stacked rocks and boulders, some up to 5 feet in height. I was amazed at how many of these stalwart fellows weathered the blustery weather that came at the end of the week.

I waterskiied a couple of times and went on a tube ride, but did not brave the wakeboard. The wakeboard and I have a touchy relationship, you see. Much like Mao, it presents the illusion of being friendly. True to its name, the Evil Twin gets you feeling all comfortable; whisking along over the wake, swishing back and forth with the grace of an aqua ballerina, then WHAM!
It takes you down.
When I fall on the wakeboard, I go down hard. Usually face-first. Generally I catch the edge when I least expect it. Headaches ensue, as does misery. This is why I have admitted defeat. Ask me about my arm scar sometime. Go on... ask!**
Michael, Jordan, Kevin and Ross all seem to have the art of not killing themselves on a wakeboard down, but alas, it will never be for me. Next year I'm determined to improve my slalom. Wow, thinking of next year already...

All-in-all our trip was fabulous. Always is. I was sad to leave, but relieved to get home and find our little house still standing and my gardens well-watered and healthy (thanks to my newly installed drip irrigation system!)

I am so thankful to my parents for putting their hearts, souls, hands, time and investments into this amazing beachfront retreat. Now I know why dad's eyes sparkled so much the first time he showed us that rocky beachfront lot with its run-down, overgrown cottage. What I saw taking shape this summer, he's seen for years.

Thank you, mom and dad, for building this gift to us.

* Jordan, my youngest bro. is a paramedic now, working out of the Lower Mainland. It was his first delivery, and it happened in the back of an ambulance with a pregnant woman who didn't speak a word of English. Quite the story. He was both horrified and proud of the experience.
**It's really my only honourably earned battle scar, I'll take any opportunity to talk about it.

The Shuswap Chronicles, part 1: The Journey

2006-08-02T16:55:00.000-07:00

As we normally do, we took the trip to the lake in 2 legs. This was done mainly for the benefit of Mao, who was on his pioneer voyage to the cabin. The first night, we took the ferry over to the mainland and drove to Coquitlam, where we slept over at my parents'. I went shopping that evening with Selena (who, by the way, looks friggin' AMAZING after having lost 100 pounds and counting...)
It had been a hot week. The weather when we began our trip the next morning was in the mid 30s. All I can say is, "I LOVE MY NEW CAR!!!" Last year, we did the sweltering journey in my little blue plank-seated Nissan NX. We were crammed together like beef jerkey and just as salty, smelly and flat by the end of our trip.
This year, in contrast, we actually had room to bring my bro. Mike up with us AND the cat AND Morgan AND... all our luggage! Plus, there was the Air conditioning (pause in reverence of the almighty A/C)

We arrived at the cabin mid-day, greeted by mom and dad, then proceeded to jump in the lake, which was warm as a bathtub, but still refreshing.
The cabin (beach house, more appropriately) is definitely liveable, although missing all forms of moulding, most forms of flooring, some forms of light fixture and doorknob and the all-important railings that keep one from falling off the deck or down the stairs. When we came, the Geothermal (which provides both heat and A/C) was not yet working. Thankfully, our bedroom is in the basement, which is cooler.
That night, Peter's folks arrived to spend a couple of nights on their way to Canim Lake. We got settled in and had a nice dinner.
By then it was apparent that a storm was brewing. Heavy thunderclouds approached at the end of the lake and we were soon treated to an amazing light show: sheet lightning, fork lightning, cloud-to-cloud lightning, all punctuated by gale-force winds and raindrops the size of walnuts.
It was truly a force of nature and a sight to behold. For close to two hours, we all huddled undercover on the deck (not that "undercover" means anything in those conditions) and watched what physics, when combined with nature, can do.

I'm hoping to get a copy of the pics that Michael got of the fork lightning, when I do, I will post them .
That brings you to the end of our first day at Shuswap. There is much more to say, but I'm done for today so:
To be continued in the next blog...

High above Shuswap.

2006-08-02T16:44:00.000-07:00

This is me in a four-seater Cessna SkylarkII looking down on the beautiful Shuswap.
Our generous (and very wealthy) lake-neighbor, Rod and his wife Anastasia have a plane which they use to fly back and forth from Shuswap to Whistler, where they live (Rod builds those beautiful multi-million dollar Whistler homes that celebrities like to buy).
He invited Mom, Morgan and me for a flight around the lake. It was absolutely spectacular! After flying over all 4 arms of Shuswap, as well as Mara Lake, and buzzing my fam. at the beach house, we gassed up in Salmon Arm and got to see 2 wildfire-fighting helicopters land right beside us.
Morgan got some flight training and flew most of the way around the lake. She's a natural!

It was an unexpected adventure that gave me a new appreciation of the beauty that surrounds us in our province.

To see my photos, click HERE

Why does my blog look weird?

2006-07-20T15:04:00.000-07:00

My blog looks all wonky* and I don't know why. I would ask Peter but he's "Wor-King" and it is not Rachelle time right now.
I have learned to limit my contacts with "Peteratwork" to bringing him refreshments and the occasional hug-from-behind**. Sometimes I ask him questions and he ignores me, or barks like a vicious dog and I sulk away like a very cute spurned pug in a hoodie. All I want to do is be friendly, and sometimes I'd like to chat, or ask him an important question that I don't think is trivial.
Sometimes I just like to have someone else notice how cute the cat looks when he's washing his face, but nooooo, Peter-the-working-guy is too busy writing "code" and working "hard" and making "money" to share in those precious fleeting moments.

But there's always you, o, internet. Give me a collective "Awwwwww!" the cat is looking oh-so-cute, like a stripey grey pudding flopped inside his favourite paper shopping bag.

*a highly technical term, I know.
** earning me the nickname "squiddy"