EVERYONE STAY CALM AND BOIL WATER

Two years ago tomorrow, on February 18, 2010, at 8:52 am, I sent the following email to Mark and Janine: 

I'm off to the doctor again today - at my appointment yesterday my blood pressure was too high, so we're going to measure it again today to see if it has come down. I suspect it was high because of the bonehead move I pulled when getting the car out of the garage on the way to the appointment - I clipped the passenger side mirror and broke some of the plastic. *sigh* It's because I have to give myself extra space on the driver's side so I can get my enormous self out of the car these days. I was not impressed.

So today Bundy has declared "NO ERRANDS FOR YOU!" except for the doctor's appointment (and I have to go to the pharmacy, regardless of what he says, because I'm out of diclectin). I'm to sit my ass on the couch and relax until the appointment.

*twiddles thumbs* 

 At 12:19 pm, I sent this follow-up: 

At dr now. Wants to induce in next 48 hours. Have demanded second opinion. I see next doc in 30 mins. Meanwhile, at [Bundy's workplace], bundy is struggling to breathe. Jeebus.

Janine replied immediately: 

WTF!

He tells you that, and he wants your blood pressure to go DOWN? WTF!!!

WTFFF!!!!!!!!

 I then got this very calm and reasonable reply from Mark:

2nd opinion, good! Also good, you're where you're supposed to be timing-wise, so it's not the end of the world if you're induced this weekend.

I explained further: 

Apparently I have early preclampsia and the only cure is to get baby out. Or else my liver and kidneys could be compromised. But my dr is away, so I've asked for a 2nd opinion.

Hope your camera batteries are charged. Gulp. And looks like we may miss baconfest. LOL

After this, I go to [Bundy workplace] and calm the bundy.

Janine continued to be her calm, reasonable self: 

OK. So you have pre-pre-eclampsia and just hearing that made me forget EVERYTHING I'm supposed to not do. Are we not supposed to come to the hospital until we're called? Are we allowed to hang out NEAR the hospital waiting for news? Am I supposed to be boiling water? I am, FYI, just in case.

Also, I twittered "I CAN HAZ BLUD PRESHR MULLIGIN?!?!" to be funny and my camera batteries are fully charged, and my memory cards are empty, and my camera is even fixed and working perfectly.

So like, I think I'm ready to go but not because I don't think I'm supposed to go anywhere. I'm just supposed to be here.

*grabs you and shakes you*

CALM DOWN! THINK OF YOUR LIVER!

No, no, no. Can't do that, that's wrong.

Sorry.

Then, later, at 1:44 pm, also from Janine:

Is there any news???

My reply, at 2:08 pm: 

Home now. We'll get a call sometime in the next 48 hours to come in and be induced. Appt with Dr. Huard went really well, he explained everything very thoroughly. This is really for the best - it could be dangerous for me and for Moe to wait much longer. Bundy's running some last minute errands and is on his way home, too. (He's been pretty useless at work since I called him, poor lad.)

In the meantime, I have some paper work to fill out regarding the cord blood, a few emails to send, and a bag to pack. Then I'm to relax as much as possible until we get the call. I've had some time to wrap my head around this, so I'm feeling better. Bundy needs more time. *grin*

I'll try and keep Mark up to date with things, but we'll definitely call you when Moe has arrived. Then we would love it if you could both come to the Civic ASAP to take some photos. :)

Mark replied, offering to help with running errands.

Janine replied with this:

HOLY SH!T!!!!!!
Moe is going to show up in the next 48 hours!!!!

And then, shortly after, with this: 

I'M SO EXCITED I POOD!

Unwelcome Visitor

Ok, so imagine you have this friend. Except, they aren't even really a friend, more like someone you used to see regularly, out of necessity, but you never really got along. But you learned to live together. Then suddenly one day, they disappear. They are gone from your life - no warning, no explanation. You're having a hard time with something that they could really help you with, but they won't return your calls. You think they may have blocked your email.

You struggle through your hard time without them - you get help from others. It isn't ideal or easy, but you get through it. You figure they are out of your life forever.

And then suddenly, years later, they show up on your doorstep, suitcase in hand. They need a place to stay. You are totally unprepared for their visit - you don't even know where your spare sheets are, you are flabbergasted to see them. And they are the worst possible houseguest. You tell them you already have plans, they insist on tagging along. They start making demands on you, making you physically uncomfortable, they keep you up at night, and you become so irritable around them. You're exhausted. And they refuse to tell you how long they are staying. The visit seems to last forever. They make you incredibly uncomfortable, you're so hurt by them that you're near tears.

Finally, you wake up one morning and they're gone. They've left a note. It says, "I'll be back again in a year, maybe 18 months. Can't be sure. See you then. You seem tired - maybe you should eat some steak."

This, ladies and gentlemen, is my relationship with my period. She's a total bitch. Just when I've forgotten about her, she shows up again, and she kicks my ass.

Coming Out Crazy

I have a mental illness.

I have struggled with depression since I was 15 years old. That's more than half my life. I take medication for my illness, and I have a self-care regimen that plays an important role in keeping me healthy.

Over the course of my life, I have had a number of depressive episodes. I have been hospitalized for depression. I have self-harmed. I have taken sick leave from work. I have sought and received professional help. I have done really, really stupid things when the crazy has come to call. But I have fought through the dark and come into the light.

These days, I am happier far more often than I am sad. I struggle in the winter, and always will. I will always take medication - I have tried going off it, with poor results. But I am safe, I am happy, and I know how to take care of myself.

Despite it all, I wouldn't change my past. The crazy, as much as it has been terrifying, debilitating, overwhelming and, well, crazy, has made me so much stronger. By getting help, I wasn't just helping myself deal with a specific depressive episode, but I was building a toolbox of coping skills and techniques that have helped me to get through struggles that would have otherwise crippled me. I have come out of it all a better, stronger person.

Mental illness is more common than you may think. And it's nothing to be ashamed of. The Royal Ottawa's mental illness awareness campaign is called You Know Who I Am. And you do. But the best part of my journey is that now I can say that I know who I am. I know who I am, and I love who I am.

To anyone who is in the thick of it: you are not alone. Keep persevering, keep seeking and getting help, keep pushing through the dark. Because the light on the other side will eventually show you how incredible you are.

Occasional Twinges

I still get occasional twinges.

Don't get me wrong. I love my son so much that it's painful. I am so very grateful to have him in my life.

And I am well aware that we don't have the financial (or even perhaps emotional) resources to raise a second child.

But if we did have those resources... just say we did... It would be really nice to have a choice about it.

Because, apparently, when you have one child, people don't think anything of asking if you plan to have another. And even though I have buckets of experience with dealing with these kind of questions, it really doesn't get any easier.

Pearls and Cowboy Boots

I'm on Pinterest. I use it to catalog the clothes I'd like to buy, places and images into which I like to escape, and great ideas and tips about everything from home organization to crafts for kids.

I've noticed a trend lately that disturbs me: photos of very young children wearing age-inappropriate clothing, with comments from people who think it's adorable. "I have to do this with my kid!" they say. "What a fantastic photo - I wish I'd thought of it!" "So cute!"

These photos aren't pornography. But there is something about them that makes me really, really uncomfortable.

Let's start with this one. This is actually from an etsy site - a woman makes these lace rompers for little girls. Her site has tons of photos like this one - a very young girl wearing the romper equivalent of a lace mini-dress, with pearls and cowboy boots. This baby girl is dressed like a hooker.

This one is from the website of a professional photographer. Some of her children's portraiture examples are indeed adorable. The ones of kids between the ages of 6 and 8 are especially good - she seems to really capture who they are. And then there's this one, which had me asking, "What the hell were you thinking?"

There are others.

It's taken me a while to wrap my head around why these types of photos upset me. I still haven't wrapped my head around it entirely, but I can articulate a few reasons.

1. There is nothing wrong with taking photos of your toddler that show his or her innocence. If those photos involve them not wearing clothes, I don't have a problem with that. But don't post them on public internet sites where people who see something other than their innocence can find them. I've taken photos of Moe in the bath because he's adorable in the bath. But those photos aren't visible to just anyone.

2. Childhood is so fleeting. It goes by so fast. Kids only have that total innocence for a few years - maybe 8 at most. Why on earth would you want to hurry that process? Why wouldn't you want your toddler in overalls and play clothes for as long as possible? After all, there are so many forces out there that want to hurry the process along for you - why would you contribute to that?

I don't know. Am I being unrealistic here?

Dear Moe (23 Months)

My dear, sweet boy. What are we going to do with you? In another month, you'll be two years old. In some ways, I can't believe it and in others it feels like you've been two for a long time.

It's been quite a month. Of course, the biggest thing that happened was Christmas, and it was fantastic. It was a crazy few days that involved a LOT of gifts, getting to know and love your extended family, a lot of hard core playing and quite a bit of magic. It was a busy, busy time with a lot of visiting and family dinners, and you did super well. On the first day after the chaos was over, you had a four hour nap, which is a personal record.

You loved playing with Aunt Natalie and Uncle Darin. You enjoyed piling all your cars into their hands until they couldn't hold them all, and then you would knock the cars out of their hands and onto the ground in great glee. You connected really strongly with your cousin Isabel – you even let her colour with you in your colouring book, which at the time was a pretty honking big deal. You had a fantastic time with your Tio Rodrigo, who was always able to make you laugh. But you totally fell in love with Tia Reiko. You learned her name really quickly, and by the end of their visit, you would wake up from a nap or in the morning and call for her. It was very sweet. We were also lucky enough to get a visit from your Grandpa Will, Grandma Anne, Aunt Heather and Uncle David. It was very special to have us all together for the first time. You were showered with love. 

And you were showered with gifts. Santa Claus brought you an awesome toy recycling truck – the same one you love playing with so much at Robin's. It was certainly the hit of the holiday. You also love your new Hot Wheels storage box (you like taking the cars out more than putting the cars in), you've gotten great use out of your new table and chairs and great pleasure out of your new puzzles, and we had a great time test driving your new plasma car in the tunnels at Carleton. You were very excited to receive your new ride on toy (a pirate ship!) from Uncle Mark and Aunt Janine. It's still a little tall for you, so you have been known to sit on your old, smaller ride on car and pull the ship from behind.

Your vocabulary has exploded recently. You babble constantly, and have many new words. “Mommy” is one of your favourites. You love calling for me, and for a while, “Mommy” was your go-to word for whenever you were the least bit unhappy, whether I was around or not. You also say “tiss,” and give me a kiss goodbye through the gate every day. It's the best part of my day. I'll say, “I'm leaving now! Where's my kiss?” and you come running down the hall saying, “Tiss! Tiss!” It's fantastic. (Another of your favourite words is “mine”. This is less fantastic, but perfectly normal, and we continue our work on sharing.)

We've had some wonderful moments together this month. Daddy started a fire in the fireplace one evening, and you liked it so much that the next day you pointed to the empty fireplace and said, “More?” You are your Daddy's son. We've had several fires since, and in fact, ran out of wood. You watched an episode of Little Bear which involved puddle jumping, and started jumping through imaginary puddles in the living room. Aunt Kimmy came by with Caleb and Noah and they gave you a Duplo set of Lightning McQueen and his truck Mac. As you unwrapped the gift, you caught sight of Mac and got so excited. You said, “Ooooh! Oooooh!” and pointed eagerly. It was adorable.

You both gained and lost teeth this month. There were a few days where you were being very difficult. You were easily frustrated, generally cranky, sleeping poorly and not yourself at all. Then suddenly you had eye teeth and it all made sense. Then last week, you got too excited and tripped and fell in the living room and your tooth made contact with a Hot Wheels and it broke. (The tooth, not the car.) It's your left front tooth, and the chip is pretty significant. We're off to the dentist next week to make sure there's nothing to worry about. It's just such a shame – you work so hard to get your teeth and you've already lost one! On the bright side, you look a little bit like Chris Neil.

Baby, I know I say you get sick every month, but holy cow, this month it was bad. One night you woke up with a croupy cough – you sounded like a barking seal. We immediately canceled our plans for the next day and Uncle Mark and Aunt Janine came over for a play date, as croup isn't dangerous to adults. Well, it turns out you had more than croup, and they are lucky they didn't get sick. You had RSV (with a bonus ear infection) and boy, were you prolific. Despite the fact that we kept you out of day care from the moment we saw you weren't well, you managed to give it to three of the kids at day care and Robin. And even though you were already on antibiotics when she took care of you for the day, you gave it to Grandma. You had a terrible fever, a horrible cough (the croupy cough was replaced by a deep, phlegmy cough that came from your toes), and were obviously miserable. You didn't eat for three days. It got difficult to keep you hydrated. (We eventually had to finally let the juice genie out of the bottle – and once it's out, you can't put it back in. So you get juice now, watered down, once a day. And you're pretty happy about it.) 

You are almost back to 100% now, and we're very happy about it. We're looking forward to this next month as your vocabulary continues to grow, you continue to be a sweet, amazing little boy who makes us laugh, fills our hearts, and brightens our days.

Pooks, just after you were born, I sang you a very special song to tell you how happy we were that you had finally come into our lives after so many years of looking for you. This past week, the woman who made that song famous passed away. So today, we listened to it several times and danced together. I'll put the lyrics here. Because they are so, so very true.

At last, my love has come along,
My lonely days are over,
And life is like a song.
Oh, yeah, at last
The skies above are blue.
My heart was wrapped up in clover
The night I looked at you.
I found a dream that I could speak to,
A dream that I can call my own.
I found a thrill to rest my cheek to,
A thrill that I have never known.
Oh, yeah when you smile, you smile,
Oh, and then the spell was cast.
And here we are in heaven,
For you are mine
At last.

In Soviet Russia, the Play Date Comes to You

So what do you do when your Saturday plans to attend a birthday party are scuppered by a croupy-sounding cough, and you can't play outside because it's -31 degrees Celsius with the windchill?

You invite Uncle Mark and Aunt Janine to come over and play!
(View full screen to read captions.)