tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31818933970189681202024-03-13T00:11:20.879-04:00The Ladies Rhythm and Movement ClubIt's a Canadian woman writer thing...Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.comBlogger514125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-37949968492990362472011-09-14T15:20:00.004-04:002011-09-14T15:37:41.006-04:00The second kidSo. Here I am.<div><br /></div><div>26 weeks pregnant with baby #2, and I haven't had a chance to blog/document anything AT ALL about this pregnancy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Second child syndrome begins in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">utero</span>, apparently. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm sorry, baby #2! I mean it. Bad, Mama. I give you full permission to call me a bitch one time (and ONLY one time) when you are old enough to understand what that word means.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I was pregnant with Anna, I had a full time desk job that allowed me to enjoy little moments of downtime and do with them what I pleased. So I would blog. And blog and blog and blog and blog. All about being pregnant with Anna. And how wonderful it was. And how great I felt. And how much rest I was getting.</div><div><br /></div><div>Life is very different now. I'm constantly (and I can't stress the word CONSTANTLY enough) on the go with my little Hurricane Anna. I'm working from home and sometimes working downtown. I'm not sleeping through the night. I'm not sleeping in. I'm not napping. (Do you see a trend here?)</div><div><br /></div><div>So, yeah. Life is different. Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm a wee bit tired and extremely busy this pregnancy. I do what I can, and blogging takes a back seat. Boo-urns. That's life though, eh?</div><div><br /></div><div>I also consider myself extremely lucky. To have Anna. To know what life is like with the little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">buttertart</span>. To get to spend lots and lots of time with her and watch her learn things and make me laugh and be silly and hear her voice and feel her soft, soft skin.</div><div><br /></div><div>And the best part? I get to do it all over again. </div><div><br /></div><div>Baby #2 - though I may not have the time to write it down, I can't wait to meet you. I can't wait to hold you. I can't wait to see your little face and feel your little hands and learn all about you. I can't wait to snuggle with you and watch you grow. I can't wait to put you in cute little newborn sleepers and wrap you up in my stretchy wrap and feel you close at all times. I can't wait for you to meet your Daddy and your big sister. I can't wait to name you. And I can't wait for you to become a part of our family.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's true... I may not have the same amount of time I did when I was pregnant with Anna. But I certainly have all the same emotions.</div><div><br /></div><div>I certainly have the same amount of love.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-90536349428937747912011-09-02T15:41:00.004-04:002011-09-02T16:12:40.160-04:00Hello?*Creeping back into the blogging world...*<div>
<br /></div><div>Hello everyone! (Okay, I know I'm just talking to myself here. Nobody is still checking SINCE APRIL to see if I'm updating my blog).</div><div>
<br /></div><div>But that's okay.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I've realized something today. I've realized I need to keep writing for myself. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I love my other Mommy blog... but I find that I don't always tend to just spew whatever comes to mind into that blog. I try to keep it Mom/baby focused so that my readers will find some sort of point and purpose to it.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Which? Is fine. But I miss my outlet. And - oh <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">mah</span> goodness - I'm in need of it today, folks.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Let me tell you why.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I've been sitting in a VERY quiet office since 9:30 this morning. I'm freelancing in-house at an agency today. It's Friday before the long weekend, so I'm not overly busy. (Read: I'm kind of bored.)</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Everyone around me has checked out or is in their own little "I'm-at-work-don't-talk-to-me-so-I-can-get-out-of-here-at-5:01-today" zone. Except? For the one dude sitting across from me in the open concept offices.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Let me tell you about dude.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>When dude drinks? It's VERY audible. He gulps like he's a giant python swallowing a mouse. Annoying. That's all I can say.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Dude's nose is also whistling. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Dude is also beat-boxing (or beep-boxing or whatever it is) with his mouth in an incredibly irritating way. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Oh - and he's also talking to himself in short little bits, like "Well, how do I-?" and "Let's see, I think I have to-"</div><div>
<br /></div><div>And clicking his tongue.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>And playing the drums on his desk.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>So I'm bored. Pregnant. Hot. A tad irritated. And listening to this obliviously loud guy eat, drink, breathe through his nose, and talk to himself. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>How did I manage to work in an office so long??</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Okay - dude is now opening a TALL BOY can of beer while the work day ends. Must. Leave. Now. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Not sure if I can withstand a whole tall boy of gulps.</div><div>
<br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Anywho</span>. I'm off for the long weekend. Time to get home to my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">buttertart</span> who can make all the little noises she wants. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>They're always cute noises.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-7365045030067544792011-04-10T20:39:00.005-04:002011-04-12T10:13:39.418-04:00Not sure where to go from hereSo, I said I would keep this blog going... <div><br /></div><div>I said I would have time to keep writing about "me" outside of the Not the Only Mama side to my life... </div><div><br /></div><div>I said I would regularly update all my fans on all-things <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Hezzie</span> (I know you're out there, fans... I see you)... </div><div><br /></div><div>But the truth is - I'm not sure what's going to happen. I haven't had time in ages. And the reasons are: </div><div><ul><li>I feel like raising Anna is a full-time job - even now that she's older and not all teeny-weeny anymore. So, it doesn't leave me lots of spare time.</li><li>Anna's gone down to one nap a day - which makes it easier for her to go to bed at night, but gives me much less time to do anything kid-free during the day.</li><li>When Anna *does* nap, I need to either do my freelance work, try to get a workout in, shower, do laundry, or get stuff ready for whatever we're doing that day.</li><li>That means that blog writing is left to last.</li></ul><div>So, here I am. Writing once a month... maybe. Blah! I used to be so good at this. </div></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Anywho</span>. You do what you can, right? At least I got the chance to blog during my pregnancy and Anna's first year of life. Something that I'll have in writing to remember forever. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not saying this blog is completely done. I just can't... I'm so not ready to pull the plug on this one. It's been my favourite outlet for the past several years. But I understand if my readers stop checking in on the off chance I've written something. </div><div><br /></div><div>On another note - keep your fingers crossed for me, please! I have a few things in the works that I'm hoping (BIG TIME hoping) work out for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hey - maybe I'll have something to write about soon. You never know.</div><div><br /></div><div>~<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Hez</span></div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-85962698572237213712011-03-28T11:46:00.002-04:002011-03-28T11:48:15.871-04:00Melting right nowI was going to write something today. But then I realized that there was no possible way that I could do better <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=epUk3T2Kfno">than this</a>.<div><br /></div><div>Holy crap. Just *try* to be in a bad mood after this.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-45134944684769451102011-03-23T21:41:00.004-04:002011-03-23T22:05:56.936-04:00Hi there. Remember me?Wow, it's hard for me to stay up to date with this blog. I'm writing for work... writing for my Mommy blog... watching American Idol. <div><br /></div><div>You know, important stuff.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, what's new with you guys? Here's a random list of things that are new with me:</div><div><ul><li>My lovely, gorgeous daughter spilled an entire glass of water onto my brand, new <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">MacBook</span>. </li><li>The Apple dude at the Mac Store gave me the "We never do this for customers... but we'll do it for you..." spiel when he told me that they were going to repair it for free. (I appreciate it. Big time. I really do. But I found him a bit... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">salesy</span>... odd.)</li><li>I had a few hours to myself this afternoon and I honestly didn't really know what to do with myself. (It's been a long time, peeps.)</li><li>I should have gone to see Justin <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Bieber's</span> movie, because - yes - I actually want to see it. I'm admitting it here and now. (I have some bizarrely strange like-affair with the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Beebs</span>).</li><li>I also sort of want to see the Celine Dion special on TV Saturday night. Sad? Yes... Yes, I know.</li><li>I'm training for a half marathon again. And my leg is sorta giving me trouble. Damn hammy.</li></ul><div>Gosh. That seems to be all that's new with me. What has happened to me? Why am I so interesting and glamorous? </div></div><div><br /></div><div>Oh wait. Am I just delusional in thinking that I was actually ever interesting and glamorous?</div><div><br /></div><div>Well... let's see. I've written posts in the past about towels and the time I had a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">grande</span> mocha but couldn't drink all of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll let you decide.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-64113691683495522022011-03-11T11:55:00.003-05:002011-03-11T12:14:10.310-05:00Tro lo lo lo lo!Wow - that last post was so depressing and whiny. Sorry about that, peeps!<div><br /></div><div>I had another bad sleep last night. But hey - it's Friday! And I've got a Timmy's coffee in my hand! And I'm meeting up with a friend and her cute little kiddies this afternoon! All is good.</div><div><br /></div><div>So no more Debbie Downer (or Wendy Whiner) for me. I'm all rainbows and lollipops now. You're going to be so sick of me and my sunny disposition, you'll want to vomit.</div><div><br /></div><div>(That's always a sign of a good blog, by the way. If it's vomit-inducing, it's most likely going to generate much traffic and perhaps some awesome feedback.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway - in lieu of a long, blabbering post - and in honour of my new outlook - I leave you with this happy little clip before the weekend. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Z4m4lnjxkY&feature=player_embedded">Sing along, won't you?</a></div><div><br /></div><div>PS: I'm very, very late to this game. Almost four million people have already discovered this on YouTube.</div><div><br /></div><div>PPS: I also stole it from the lady at Pregnant Chicken's website. Hey - I have no problem with being unoriginal.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-46564672023092513822011-03-10T08:42:00.003-05:002011-03-10T08:54:50.164-05:00Holy crap, don't you just love reading about me??I had a crap sleep last night. (File that under "W" for "What else is new").<div><br /></div><div>BUT... I also worked out with my personal trainer yesterday evening. So, I actually prepped myself (unknowingly) for my shitty night.</div><div><br /></div><div>I still woke up feeling pretty blah today. But I'm bouncing back now. And I bet it would have taken me MUCH longer if I hadn't had my butt whipped by my ass-kicking trainer. Who I love, despite the ass-kicks.</div><div><br /></div><div>My fingers are crossed that now that I've stopped nursing Anna, and I'm training for a half marathon, and I'm working out with a personal trainer, and I'm taking thyroid medication and I'm trying to make some nutrition changes (goodbye, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Arrowroots</span>. We were such good friends. Sniff.)... maybe - just maybe - I can shed some of the leftover baby weight.</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Anywho</span>. If it comes off, great. If it doesn't, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">meh</span>. I'll try harder after baby #2. (Mind you, I feel like I'm trying pretty damn hard, here. It's not like I'm sitting on my arse stuffing my face full of chips whilst complaining about how fat I am).</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Whateves</span>. All I ever talk about these days is my lack of sleep and the weight that won't come off. How awesome and fun to read about! (Sarcastic emoticon goes here.)</div><div><br /></div><div>For the next post, I think I'll brainstorm a list of wonderfully exciting topics that I can discuss and that you'll be just dying to read about. Yeah... that's what I'll do. I've already got a few ideas now...</div><div><br /></div><div>... what I ate for lunch yesterday</div><div>... the way I separate my laundry into like colours before washing them</div><div>... the fine art of perfecting the pony tail (when your hair is too dirty to wear down, but you're too lazy to wash it)</div><div>... my trip to the grocery store</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes. I am the most awesome-est, exciting human being that ever walked the face of the earth.</div><div><br /></div><div>You people are so lucky to know about this blog.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-25897753002676291542011-03-08T07:32:00.003-05:002011-03-08T07:51:29.232-05:00Hez has an addictionI think I may have a problem.<div><br /></div><div>I might seriously be addicted to buying baby skinny jeans.</div><div><br /></div><div>Went to Baby Gap yesterday. (A place that real, live Mom and Dads do NOT shop at. Why buy a pair of pants for $25 on sale, when you can get a pair regularly priced for $5 - just as cute - at other places?)</div><div><br /></div><div>Skinny jeans. That's why. Very hard to resist.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway - Anna and I went shopping in my old stomping grounds downtown yesterday and I hadn't planned on buying anything for her. But I find it extremely hard to resist - and way more fun - to shop for the little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">buttertart</span>. She looks cute in everything. </div><div><br /></div><div>So we came home with two tops, skinny jeans and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">jammies</span> for Anna. And nothing for Mommy. </div><div><br /></div><div>But that's perfectly okay. Because the middle of the day shopping trip is just one of the many perks of working from home. We felt like shopping - so we went. And - as if the gods just KNEW that Mommy had an addiction and would need to find some way to pay for it all - I got a call for some work last night. So now I can keep my Anna in skinny jeans.</div><div><br /></div><div>That makes me happy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Another thing that's great about working from home? We're both in our <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">pjs</span> right now. Anna's walking around the house with one of my running shoes in her hands. I'm keeping one eye on her, one hand on my coffee and writing this with the other. (I don't like to toot my own horn, but that's some fine multi-tasking now isn't it?) </div><div><br /></div><div><i>She says as Anna splashes around in the cat's water dish.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>I should probably go. Hurricane Anna is about one disaster away from bringing the entire house down.</div><div><br /></div><div>Enjoy your day, peeps.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-19702161950071816342011-02-21T14:13:00.005-05:002011-11-28T12:45:00.704-05:00For you, AnnaSo. I realize it's a little late... but: Happy Birthday Anna! <div><br /></div><div>You're one-year old. Holy crap. </div><div><br /></div><div>(How eloquent of me, no?)</div><div><br /></div><div>How do I put in words what this past year has meant to me? How do I let you know how special you are - <i>in mere words</i>? </div><div><br /></div><div>Well. I'll try, anyway.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last weekend, your grandma and I went to go see the musical "The Secret Garden" at a theatre in the city. Because it was a children's story, there were lots of moms and dads and their little kids with them. Very cute.</div><div><br /></div><div>At the end of the row we were sitting in were two little boys. Brothers. Maybe about 6-years old. They looked like they could be twins. It was kind of hard to tell, however, because one of the little boys had a developmental challenge. </div><div><br /></div><div>It could have been cerebral palsy. I'm not 100% sure. All I know for sure is that he was in a wheelchair. And his parents were very attentive. They watched him closely as he took a sip of his drink. They helped him with his hearing aid when the music started and seemed a bit too loud for him.</div><div><br /></div><div>At one point, near the end of the play, something sort of exciting happened on stage. And when everything went silent, an excited "whoa!" came calling from beside us. Everyone nearby turned to see the little boy, curled into his mom's lap, watching the play intently. We all let out a happy, delighted laugh. Then went back to watching the rest of the play.</div><div><br /></div><div>But when it ended, I couldn't help but want to look over at him again. So I did. And I saw the little boy smiling. Smiling broadly. His whole body kind of shaking with what I assumed was excitement.</div><div><br /></div><div>He was so happy.</div><div><br /></div><div>And I just started crying and crying.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was crying because I wasn't sure at first how aware he was of everything around him... but he was obviously aware. And what he saw made him so very happy.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was crying because his parents brought him there. He cuddled into their laps and watched the play. They rubbed the back of his head with his fuzzy, little-boy hair. And they made him incredibly, incredibly happy that day.</div><div><br /></div><div>He was so clearly and undeniably loved. </div><div><br /></div><div>And it made me think of you, Anna. Of how undeniable my love is for you. How happy you make me. How, when I think of everything you've brought into my life, all I can think of is absolute love and joy.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's why I was crying.</div><div><br /></div><div>I hope that you're always proud of your parents, Anna. I hope you always feel adored and self-confident. I hope your life is happy. Your childhood is happy. I hope you learn from your dad and I what love is all about.</div><div><br /></div><div>And, more than anything, I hope that you will one day be lucky enough to feel like that little boy felt. To see the world the way he saw it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Happy birthday, my little love.</div><div><br /></div><div>I love you. Today, tomorrow and always.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-3753587673299173302011-02-21T14:02:00.002-05:002011-02-21T14:12:16.030-05:00Here to stayA few people have asked me if this blog is ending now that I have another blog going on. So I thought I should update and let everyone know that you haven't gotten rid of me yet! <div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Hez</span> is here to stay. (You lucky folks.)<div><br /></div><div>I've just had a crazy, crazy month. So I'm still trying to get everything back on track and under control. And unfortunately, personal blogging kind of takes a back seat. </div><div><br /></div><div>Also. I had this idea that once Anna turned one, I would finish my "love-letter" to her and start blogging about anything and everything again (as opposed to being all-Anna, all the time). But I've been avoiding <b>The Last Blog to Anna</b> post.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe it's because I'm in denial that my wee <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">buttertart</span> is already a year old. </div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe it's because I want to make sure it's the perfect final blog post to my perfect little daughter.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe it's because I don't want to rush. I want to make her proud that I'm her Mom. I want it to be beautiful.</div><div><br /></div><div>Whatever the reason - I realize that it's time. </div></div><div><br /></div><div>So. Without further hesitation - Anna's final blog post. (Coming up next).</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-77576142062364910492011-02-03T08:33:00.005-05:002011-02-03T22:30:46.896-05:00Trying not to cry my eyes out right now<div style="text-align: left;">So this is it. The last day of my little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">buttertart's</span> first year. Tomorrow she'll be one.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>*Pausing to take the huge, crazy, giant fact in...*</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div>Of course, it just so happens that right now I'm crazy busy with freelance jobs. And last minute party planning. And trying to clean the dirty, dirty house. And more freelance work. And attempting to put a dent in the mounds of laundry.</div><div><br /></div><div>But hey - all that will get done, right? My baby girl will only turn one once. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm sure as hell not going to miss it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I would never miss out on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">amazingness</span> that is this...</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MupknmVnwic/TUtyEpWyZVI/AAAAAAAAAjg/N_HPmD-adtQ/s400/Anna-14.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569670788320224594" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Holy crap do I ever love you, Anna. Looking forward to spending the day with you tomorrow. Just you, me and that guy you call Daddy. </i></div><div><br /></div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-57041109364518544032011-02-01T21:29:00.003-05:002011-02-01T21:54:12.343-05:00Cross-promotion. Jargon. Revenue stream. Synergy.(That was my little tribute to 30 Rock in the title there. Did you like it? Was it the best corporate presentation you've ever heard?)<div><br /></div><div>The first word is actually there for a reason. Cross-promotion. This would be the point in which I shamelessly self-promote the new blog I'm starting.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://theonlymama.blogspot.com/">Not the Only Mama</a>. Yes, you may go there and read it now if you wish. If you need a little encouragement, read on.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I became a Mom, and after my husband went back to work, I tried to do things on my own. And - surprise, surprise - I became a bit overwhelmed and got a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">teensy</span> bit depressed for a bit. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then I joined a Mom's Group and met some awesome first-time Moms who were just like me. They loved their children so much. But they didn't know exactly what they were doing. They were figuring things out as they went. They had bad days and rough nights. And they were willing to talk about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>So every time I would meet up with these Moms, I would walk away feeling fantastic and confident and happy that I wasn't the only one going through whatever tough thing I was going through at the time.</div><div><br /></div><div>That group of Moms became my saving grace. Not only did I get out with Anna regularly, but I met other women who completely *got* what I was thinking and feeling. And it didn't hurt that they loved talking about all-things baby the entire time either.</div><div><br /></div><div>Which made me think... every Mom should have this experience. </div><div><br /></div><div>Every Mom should know that they're not the only one who can't get their child to sleep or eat the way the "experts" say they should. They're not the only one who feels guilty because they can't make all of their baby's food or can't use cloth diapers or can't wear the child for at least 12 hours a day to make sure they grow into secure adults.</div><div><br /></div><div>Every Mom should know that they're not the only mama. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, that's what I hope to do. I hope to bring together Moms and let them know that at least one other woman has felt like they're failing at parenthood at some point.</div><div><br /></div><div>In the end - I hope new Moms find out what I discovered. That there are lots of us. We're all trying our best. We all love our babies. </div><div><br /></div><div>And that is really and truly the most important thing.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-83616263738330056632011-01-31T12:18:00.002-05:002011-01-31T12:30:28.086-05:00My child likes eggplant parmesanI'm a lucky Mom, no?<div><br /></div><div>I'm sitting here blogging while my almost 1-year old finishes off her lunch of eggplant <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">parmesan</span>. (Homemade and healthy, of course). Anna was a bit of a picky eater while we were on vacation. But now she's back to her old self... chowing down on everything we give her, apparently.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mama loves you, my good little eater.</div><div><br /></div><div>In other news, Anna's turning one on Friday. Can I get a HOLY CRAP!!!!!? I can't believe it. It's been a year. </div><div><br /></div><div>A few things I didn't expect to have happening as my child approaches one year of age:</div><div><ul><li><b>Anna's still not sleeping through the night yet. </b>Mind you, it is much better. Last night she woke up twice. Once around midnight (took a little while to get her back to sleep), and again at 4:00. (I nursed her at 4 because I just REALLY wanted to go back to sleep).</li><li><b>I'm still carrying 15 pounds of baby weight.</b> I'm doing all the right things, so I know it'll happen slowly but surely. But I remember thinking I'd be back to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pre</span>-baby weight by around 6 months. Ha!</li><li><b>Anna has only 2 teeth and very little hair.</b> Not a biggie at all... I just assumed she'd be all hairy like I was. Her two little teeth are very adorable, though. All little and sharp and cute.</li><li><b>I'm not going back to work full time.</b> The freelance is picking up. Needless to say, I'm pretty damn happy.</li><li><b>I'm sleep-deprived, but so over-the-top happy as a Mom. </b>I always knew I wanted to be a Mom. I knew I'd love having kids. But man - they just don't tell you how unbelievably awesome it is. When Anna wraps her little arms around my neck to hug me and presses her soft little cheek up against mine... there's really nothing else in the world that could ever matter. </li></ul><div>Ever.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-33651293332178930672011-01-21T21:53:00.003-05:002011-01-21T21:59:35.334-05:00Food log, part 2Anna's lunch today:<div><ul><li>Mashed up sweet potato (the only fresh veggie we still had in our house).</li><li>Yogurt with pears mixed in and a whole grain cracker.</li><li>I figured this would cover off the fruit and veggie category, yogurt covers the calcium and protein category and the cracker is the grain section...</li></ul><div><br /></div></div><div>Dinner:</div><div><ul><li>Whole wheat macaroni with mixed veggies (corn, carrots, peas)</li><li>Turkey sausage</li><li>Yes. You read that last one right... Andrew and I had turkey sausages for dinner and Anna gobbled them right up.</li></ul><div>Love that good eating kid of mine!</div></div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-59277298129945148532011-01-21T07:00:00.005-05:002011-01-21T07:34:33.271-05:00Food log. (Tee hee... I just said "log").We're going on vacation soon. Which means we're rapidly running out of food in the house. <div><br /></div><div>Not such a big deal for me. I can live on cereal (dry or with milk) for several days. Anna, on the other hand, is relying on her Mama for a balanced, nutritional diet day in and day out. The nerve of her. Kind of annoying, isn't she?</div><div><br /></div><div>So anyway. I've decided to log Anna's food diet here so I can keep track visually and be sure that I'm not depriving my little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">buttertart</span> of the good stuff.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Thursday night. Anna's dinner</b>:</div><div><ul><li>Mixed grain baby cereal with peaches and pears. (We were having a curry beef dish for dinner which wouldn't have been a good thing for her little two-toothed mouth. Or her bum.) </li><li>Side note: The baby cereal was a last resort after realizing that Anna would have NOTHING to do with the scrambled egg yolks I made for her. (Was trying to get some protein into her. With no luck).</li><li>Oh, and she had one whole grain cracker with hummus on it. This was her appetizer as I got the cereal ready.</li></ul><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Friday morning: Anna's breakfast</b>:</div></div><div><ul><li>Cheerio appetizer (of course).</li><li>Leftover baby cereal from dinner last night (wasn't much), whole grain toast and blueberries</li></ul><div><br /></div><div>Pretty decent breakfast, I think. I would have liked to put something on the toast... a little bit of butter, maybe some cream cheese. But we had run out of all of those products. Sad, really. A house with no butter or cream cheese just isn't a house in my opinion.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>I'll update later on with Anna's lunch and dinner. I really hope I can scrape together some good food for her. And I hope feeding her healthily on vacation isn't going to be too much of a challenge. Maybe it'll inspire me to make healthier food choices when we're out at restaurants.</div><div><br /></div><div>(Or maybe Mama will sneak some 3-cheese spinach dip, french fries and greasy burgers behind Anna's back.)</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-47748339448421637292011-01-19T07:50:00.005-05:002011-01-19T08:18:13.189-05:00Work, vacations, exhaustion and more.<div style="text-align: left;"><b>Things that are new with me:</b></div><div><br /></div><div>1. I got a freelance gig. Woo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">hoo</span>! (A small one, yes. But hey - it'll pay a bill or two.)</div><div><br /></div><div>2. I'm working out with a personal trainer who will also be my Running Room Half Marathon clinic coach. 2011 is going to be the year that I work on "Operation: Get <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Hez</span> Fit." (My trainer promised I'd be bikini-ready by summer. To which I say: HA!)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>3. Anna, Andrew and I are going on our first out-of-the-country family vacation. Looking forward to some sun and relaxation (maybe). Not looking forward to the plane ride all that much. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>4. Had my first new book club meeting last night. Good times. It's so nice to talk about books over a glass of wine with fellow grown-ups. Of course, we spent a lot of time talking about our kids... but how could you not with a face like this?</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MupknmVnwic/TTbj_jze7qI/AAAAAAAAAjI/15Yvj3dy120/s400/Anna-4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563885070745267874" /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Things that are not new with me:</b></div><div><br /></div><div>1. I'm exhausted. Completely and utterly exhausted.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. That's all.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-36547022105976286462011-01-11T07:57:00.006-05:002011-01-11T08:29:03.054-05:00Anna's mama takes a leap of faith<div style="text-align: left;">Well, it's official.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I am jobless.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Actually, I guess it's been official since I made the decision and resigned from my full time job in September. But I think it's just hitting me now because my mat leave pay will be running out in 3 weeks. </div><div><br /></div><div>So. Here I am. Without job.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>If I don't want to resort to feeding my family cat food, I'm going to have to start networking and finding me some freelance work. (Need a freelance writer? I'm very efficient and lovely to be around!)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Man, this decision was huge for me. I'm definitely not the type to just quit my job and give up security to "see how things go". Especially now that I have a wee one to provide for. </div><div><br /></div><div>But, hey. I'm a different person now. I'm a mama.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I'm responsible for the health and happiness of another human being. (Excuse me a minute while I go fish the lamp cord out of her mouth). I'm in charge of the <i>huge</i> responsibility of making sure she grows up normal. Every little thing I do from now on will either provide her with confidence or somehow scar her for life. (Again, must go get that cord out of her mouth).</div><div><br /></div><div>So my hope is that one day, in a future blog post, I link back to this one with all good news and talk about how funny it is to see how nervous I was - especially since I became a successful freelance writer and then won the lottery, to boot.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Who knows what the future holds. All I know is that now, in this moment, as I watch Anna cruise around, getting closer and closer to her first steps...</div><div><br /></div><div>Everything just feels right.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MupknmVnwic/TSxarclqN0I/AAAAAAAAAjA/Nom8xshhUQs/s400/Anna-27.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560919342350743362" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Mommy, does this mean more time for us to hang out and eat Mums-mums together? </i></div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-2171179445508838602011-01-04T08:12:00.004-05:002011-01-04T08:28:25.506-05:00My 11 month old...... finally has her first tooth! It came through on Christmas Eve. The second one isn't far behind, judging by her mood the past week.<div><br /></div><div>... can crawl really fast, pulls herself up like it's nothing, cruises on all the furniture and even walks behind one of her push toys. She's a mover and a shaker, that one.</div><div><br /></div><div>... still loves shoes.</div><div><br /></div><div>... isn't sleeping through the night yet. But she gave up the night time feeding at around 10 months. Now it's just her teeth that keep waking her up. (I think).</div><div><br /></div><div>... just started waving hello and bye bye to Mommy and Daddy. Cutest. Thing. Ever.</div><div><br /></div><div>... definitely understands the word "no". And definitely doesn't obey it every time we say it.</div><div><br /></div><div>... says "Dada" a lot. But we're still not sure if she's directing it towards Andrew or if everything in her path is Dada.</div><div><br /></div><div>... loves her new Christmas toys. Most babies would prefer the paper or the box... and Anna likes those too... but she truly loves her toys. She's playing independently with them on the floor right now while Mama drinks coffee and writes this blog.</div><div><br /></div><div>... smiles and laughs a lot. Also likes people. And once she warms up to a new situation, starts babbling and laughing and grabbing onto <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">everyone's</span> feet.</div><div><br /></div><div>... is great in restaurants. She even came to the King Edward Christmas brunch with us in her fancy holiday dress and was a perfect, perfect angel.</div><div><br /></div><div>... sleeps well in the car, but won't sleep at anybody <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">else's</span> house. Which should prove to be interesting when we head off to Florida in a few weeks.</div><div><br /></div><div>... is the cutest little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">buttertart</span> in the world. Even when she's miserable from teething.</div><div><br /></div><div>I love you so much, Anna. Happy 11 month birthday, baby.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-86837613251153905472010-12-24T10:31:00.003-05:002010-12-24T10:53:38.834-05:00Merry Christmas everyoneI know I say this over and over... but I really do wish I had more time to update my blog more often. Ah well. It is what it is. At least I'm here now, right? (You know you're excited that I'm here right now writing this. You love me. Admit it.)<div><br /></div><div>And so. Here we are. It's my Christmas Eve 2010 blog post. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anna, Andrew and I are ready for the festivities to begin. We've wrapped our presents, visited Santa 3 times, baked cookies, listened to Christmas carols. We've done it all. Now it's just time for family visits and, of course, lots of food. </div><div><br /></div><div>While Christmas has never been about the presents for me (honestly - I'm not just saying that), I'll admit that I used to get excited about the whole gift thing. I used to go a bit overboard and buy lots of things for everyone, excited to see how they would react when they opened them. I used to get all giddy about the huge mound of wrapped gifts under the tree, curious about what I was getting that year. </div><div><br /></div><div>But something is different for me this year. Something has changed. Something good. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm still excited about Christmas. I'm still happy to give gifts. But Christmas is about so much more than presents this year. It's traditions. And memories. It's love. And happiness. Family. Health. (It's also cookies.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I can probably attribute a lot of my new found feeling about Christmas to Anna. But I've got to give credit to Andrew and my family, too. (Thanks, guys. I love you.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway. So it's now time. It's Christmas Eve. The holiday season will be winding to a close soon. And what will I remember most about the year of Anna's first Christmas? Probably that I'm happier than ever and I'm filled with love. </div><div><br /></div><div>And I wish all of that to you as well this season.</div><div><br /></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. </i></div><div><i>Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. </i></div><div><i>Maybe Christmas... perhaps... means a little bit more.</i></div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-70510651663712473962010-12-16T18:01:00.006-05:002010-12-16T18:33:57.570-05:00Whiskers on kittens, brown paper packages...The tree is up. The stockings are hung. Presents are bought (but not wrapped for fear of the little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">buttertart</span> opening them all up before Christmas morn.) The carols have been playing for weeks now.<div><br /></div><div>Sigh. It's my favourite time of year. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I was driving around in silence while Anna napped in the back seat today, my mind began wandering and I began thinking about Christmases past. </div><div><br /></div><div>When I was a little kid, my brother and I freaking loved Christmas. (Okay, what kid doesn't??) I loved everything about the season - and not just the toys. (Honest.) I loved things like decorating the tree, eating Mom's raisin cookies, baking together, getting Dad to help me buy the perfect gift for Mom. I loved that we caught Christmas mornings on video camera so we could watch them over and over again each year. </div><div><br /></div><div>I loved the big family get <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">togethers</span>. And turkey sandwiches on boxing day. I loved the year I got a Young MC tape. I loved how excited my parents would be. How happy we all were.</div><div><br /></div><div>Christmas, as cheesy and schmaltzy as I sound, is (and still is at 31 years old) a magical time of year for me. A time of year to stop sweating the small stuff and to just... believe.</div><div><br /></div><div>Believe in good will. Believe in helping those less fortunate. Believe in making happy memories that will last a lifetime for your kids. Believe in being sillier and happier and more fun than you tend to be all year.</div><div><br /></div><div>What I've learned over the years is that when you forget the things like the fact that your job is stressful, or you don't have a lot of money, or you haven't slept for 10 months (ahem... Anna) or that you're not done your shopping and it's Christmas eve... and you start to believe in all that the season is meant to be... (and I mean really, truly believe in all the hokey stuff)... </div><div><br /></div><div>Well, that's when the magic really begins. That's when the memories are made. That's when true happiness exists.</div><div><br /></div><div>And, really... what could be better than being unbelievably and overwhelmingly happy for a month?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><i>Wishing you a happy, magical, cheesy and - best of all - silly holiday season.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>~<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Hez</span>, Andrew and Anna</i></div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-28440929685482951382010-12-08T08:03:00.003-05:002010-12-08T08:19:24.693-05:00Sweetness and lightToday I stopped doing the dishes, mid-dish, so I could sit down and write about Anna. (Okay, so maybe I just wasn't into the dishes this morning.) Anyhow. <div><br /></div><div>When Anna's grown-up, I really want her to know about all the little things about her life when she was little.<div><br /></div><div>I know I've been all "sweetness and light" when it comes to documenting Anna so far. But it's time for grown-up future Anna to know about the <i>other</i> stuff. The stuff that has made Mama's head sprout multiple new grey hairs and has caused Mama to develop an unhealthy coffee-and-latte addiction.</div><div><br /></div></div><div>Stuff that is making Mama grow old quickly:</div><div><br /></div><div>1. Anna. You don't seem to have any desire whatsoever to sleep through the night. You teased me a little bit when you were about 4 months old. But now you're 10 months old and you still wake at least once to nurse, you take quite a bit of time to go down for a nap or to bed, and when you're sick you wake up pretty much every hour at night. Needless to say, Mom is exhausted.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. While you're cute and happy about 99% of the time, you have developed some mean tantrums already. You're only 10 months old, for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">pete's</span> sake! However, if Dad or I take something away from you that you want (a spoon, a cloth, my cell phone), you freak right out and cry and scream until we find a way to distract you. I thought this type of behaviour wasn't going to develop until you were about 13.</div><div><br /></div><div>3. Sometimes you'll take a bottle with a bit of formula. Sometimes you won't. Sometimes you're happy in the car. Sometimes you're extremely angry. Sometimes you want me to pick you up. And then you immediately want back down again. I'm trying my hardest... but you've got to help me out a little bit, kid.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's about it. Honestly. And really, the sleep thing is the only thing that's making me feel a bit tired. The other two points were just so that I'd actually have some bulk to this blog post (I could have left them off the list).</div><div><br /></div><div>Basically... I just want you to sleep. Please sleep, Anna.</div><div><br /></div><div>Otherwise, you really are sweetness and light.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-41391017038452651992010-11-30T08:20:00.003-05:002010-11-30T08:30:05.160-05:00Rain, rain<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Oooo</span>... it's nasty out there today. Lots of rain. Cold. Wet. Which means....<div><br /></div><div>..... PAJAMA DAY for me and Anna!!! Woo! We ain't getting dressed all day and you can't make us. (If only I had a pair of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">onesie</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">jammies</span> with feet... man - I would NEVER wear regular clothes again.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm definitely going to miss these days if I start working again. I say "if" because I'm still not sure what to do, really. I want to give freelance a go... but I'm starting to get the jitters a bit. </div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe it's because I'm coming closer to the end of my maternity leave and those helpful payments will be stopping before I know it. Maybe it's because I have nothing lined up yet. (It's hard to line it up for February. I kind of have to wait last minute to line up a job if I go the freelance route). Maybe it's because I've only done one freelance job so far and haven't had lots of people knocking on my door. Of course, I can't really do lots of work right now because of <i>you-know-who</i>... (she's listening) and because then it would affect my mat leave payments.</div><div><br /></div><div>So very complicated. </div><div><br /></div><div>All I know is that working in your <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">pjs</span> all day sounds awesome... but spending more time with the little ankle biter is probably the best thing I could ever imagine. For me. And for her.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, I guess we'll see. I guess I have to let things just... happen.</div><div><br /></div><div>Until then, I'm going to soak up every minute of my pajama day with just me and my babe.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-30006072021538536522010-11-29T08:25:00.005-05:002010-11-29T08:54:32.148-05:00All about youHello, Anna.<div><br /></div><div>Right now, you're on the floor, in your <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">jammies</span>, getting into anything and everything (you seem to prefer the dangerous things by far. Naturally.) You're yelling happily, only pausing to stare at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Arwen</span> now and again.</div><div><br /></div><div>You're going to be 10 months old on Saturday. I still can't believe it. I know people always go on about how time flies and how "quickly they grow up" and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">yadda</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">yadda</span>... but it's true. My little wee, 5 pound-15 ounce baby is now almost 10 months old and has a real, true, strong personality.</div><div><br /></div><div>For example... you love making noises with your mouth. Whether it's a whistle, or a little half laugh, or even just yelling - you absolutely love to make noise. And you always have, ever since you were tiny and would make appreciative noises while nursing.</div><div><br /></div><div>You love crawling around and being independent. And now that you can get around by yourself (crawling and pulling yourself up and cruising on the furniture), you have even less time for Mommy to snuggle you or smother you in kisses. You don't want to be held all that often, you're busy, darn it!</div><div><br /></div><div>You would live on blueberries, cheese and cheerios if I let you. Raspberries and avocado are a close second. But, you're not quite ready for anything <i>too</i> different. (Last night, we tried pureeing up some of our Greek chili that Daddy made and it was a bit much for you.)</div><div><br /></div><div>You're very social and love visiting at Grandma and Grandpa's or Nanny and Grandpa's house. But we better not try to make you sleep there. Unless you're in your room, with your crib and your Mommy close by... you're having none of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>You have no desire to sleep through the night yet, thank you very much. You're still getting up to nurse once. I've pretty much gotten used to the lack of sleep... but I'm sort of eager for you to start sleeping better one of these days. (Mind you, you're a great day time sleeper. You take hour and a half long naps in the morning and afternoon. Bliss!)</div><div><br /></div><div>You think your Daddy is just the funniest thing that ever existed. When he comes home from work, all he has to do is flick a plastic bag or a tea towel around and you could pretty much keel right over from laughter.</div><div><br /></div><div>Basically, what your Mommy is trying to tell you is that you're pretty much amazing. And you have been for the past 10 months. </div><div><br /></div><div>Keep it up, baby.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-77515307683828561942010-11-18T08:17:00.003-05:002010-11-18T08:40:52.339-05:00Little Miss Go-Go-GoAnna's entertaining herself with my running shoes right now, so I have a spare minute to sip my morning coffee and chat. I feel like a real, live adult. Wow.<div><br /></div><div>**Side story** Yesterday I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">texted</span> Andrew at work to tell him that Anna had discovered the front hall closet and was in heaven because there were SHOES EVERYWHERE (and Anna loves shoes for some strange reason). Andrew <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">texted</span> back to say "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Aww</span>... how cute. A shoe queen, just like her Mommy." Silly, Andrew. If he only knew what a <i>real</i> shoe queen was. A real shoe queen doesn't basically wear only one pair of shoes all fall, one pair of shoes/boots all winter and one pair of flip flops all summer. It may seem like I have lots of shoes since I have casual and dressy options... but I'm <b>so</b> not a crazy shoe lady. Andrew's lucky he married me. A "typical" woman in love with shoes would drive Andrew absolutely insane. **End of side story**</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway. So, Anna is fully crawling and even starting to cruise around on furniture now. She's a very advanced 9 and a half month old, if I do say so myself. The downside to her being so active is that she's developed bruises all down her shins and has had a shiner or two on her head already.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is all very par for the course when it comes to little kids, I realize. But my neurotic side can't help but feel like a BAD MOMMY when I see her cute, soft, white little body covered with yucky bruises.</div><div><br /></div><div>The plus side to her being so active is that she loves entertaining herself now. Why, right now she's attempting to pull the curtains down in the living room and is yelling quite happily about the whole process.</div><div><br /></div><div>(Oh - she just saw the diaper bag and is crawling in super speed to get to it. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Hmmm</span>... in love with shoes and bags. Perhaps she will be a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">fashionista</span>? She has the skinny jeans already.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway. The other side to Anna crawling around is that I really have to watch her like a hawk since we haven't baby-proofed our home much yet. Mind you, I don't know what we're going to do about certain things. (I've had to fish cat food and dead leaves out of her mouth 3 times already. But I can't starve the cat. And I'm certainly not going to start cleaning the front hall every single time the door opens and yet another leaf gets tracked in.)</div><div><br /></div><div>What's a Mama to do??</div><div><br /></div><div>I know. How about I just sit back (metaphorically speaking) and enjoy the whole, entire, crazy ride that is life with Anna.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes. That's what I'll do.</div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3181893397018968120.post-68502703146565264682010-11-15T07:51:00.003-05:002010-11-15T08:24:25.207-05:00Anna goes out and aboutHi there.<div><br /></div><div>Remember me?</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm the lady getting very little sleep. But my baby is cute, so it <i>sort of</i> makes up for it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway. I want Anna to know about all the things we did together when she was a wee little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">buttertart</span>... so I've popped back on today to update y'all (and Future Anna) with the following <b>List O' Fun.</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Things We've Done in the Past Few Weeks:</div><div><ul><li><b>Went to Tiny Tots on Parade for Halloween</b>. Think: a whole bunch of little babies and kids dressed up in adorable Halloween costumes parading around downtown while a bunch of stores hand out candy. O.M.G. I almost couldn't handle the cuteness of it all.</li></ul><ul><li><b>Made cupcakes for Daddy's birthday</b>. And put peanut M&Ms on top. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Mmmmm</span>...</li></ul><ul><li><b>Went to the Royal Winter Fair</b>. And saw horses and piglets and Super Dogs... oh my! Andrew and I had some back bacon on a bun (sorry piglets!) and sampled some delicious cheeses and buffalo meat. I also bought Anna some natural, organic baby soap (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">hippy</span> soap, as Andrew likes to call it). 'Twas a cute day. And a fun, family outing was had by all.</li></ul><ul><li><b>Checked out the Fantasy Fair at Woodbine.</b> Anna and I rode the carousel once, then just walked around and shopped and lunched with other Moms and babies. She's a bit too young for the rides and play area - but when she's older, we're definitely going back. (Side story: When my brother and I were quite young, my Dad took us there. I don't remember much about being there other than thinking that this was THE MOST magical place ever. There were rides. And it was all "fantasy" like. It was super exciting... and I have such a good memory of my Dad taking me there. Hopefully, I can do that for Anna, too.)</li></ul><ul><li><b>Looked around at The Baby Time Show</b>. Lots of vendors. Lots of babies. Lots of strollers. A few free samples. But the thing that made it all worthwhile? While Anna sat in her stroller and passed by a little boy sitting in a wagon, she yelled happily at him as she went. He turned around and, I kid you not, without a second of hesitation... yelled back in the same happy way. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Freakin</span>' hilarious.</li></ul><div>Today, we're having a quiet day at home. </div></div>Hezhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05530273285929018027noreply@blogger.com5