My baby stood up!

I don’t have a baby anymore… She’s seven and a half months, and today she managed to stand up holding onto a shelf. By herself. Soon she’ll be cruising, then walking… This one is trouble! She has been sitting up for about two weeks, now, too. Of course, her baby book is in a box somewhere, so hopefully I’ll remember to write it in someday. She still refuses to crawl on her knees though, preferring the true and tested army crawl.

Apart from that, we are moving this weekend so we are swamped and therefore I don’t have much time to write. We are hoping our new place will be better. Sometimes we wonder why we are going through all this trouble for an extra 200 square feet, especially since most of that square footage is in a hallway. But we’re committed. And yes, in the long term, I think it will be better. Right now, though, it’s a drag. Only a few days left so we’re racing to pack the last things, take the overflow to the thrift store, figure out meals that don’t require anything while still finding food for our baby, etc.

Oh, to have a baby-proofed house again! Maybe in a month once we’re set up in the new place.

I hate moving!

Packing for a move is hard enough as it is. Add to that a preschooler who wants to “help” you and see everything new and exciting you take out of remote hiding places to pack and/or throw away, and who needs attention when you should be packing, and it makes it even more complicated. Now add to the mix a crawling baby who will put everything she finds in her mouth, and it means you cannot leave anything on the floor, plus you cannot start a project during a nap unless you know for sure you will be able to finish it in 45 to 60 minutes. Good times had by all.

It could be worse. I could be packing up to move to a smaller place because I lost my job and I can’t afford my place anymore. So let’s be positive: our new place is going to be soooo nice! With the flooring, cabinets and counter-tops we picked. With the area rug we so painstakingly researched. With our brand new washer, dryer, dishwasher and freezer. Yup, we’re going all out. We managed to sell our “old” portable dishwasher (at a considerable loss considering it was only 4 months old, but at least we recouped some of the cost). That’s good news, but it also means we now have to wash dishes by hand until the move. Oh well, it’s only two weeks and we are planning on cooking much less for that time. I am very excited at the thought of having my very own washer and dryer so I can do laundry any time I want without fighting for the use of common appliances. It will make caring for diapers that much more enjoyable. And the freezer, well, we haven’t actually purchased it yet, but it’s in the plans for tomorrow, because that way we can pick as many blueberries as we can next summer and freeze them instead of restraining our picking because we know there is a limit to what we can eat. Believe me, that limit is quite high. But there’s still a limit.

I’m really looking forward to everything being done. But it’s looking up: we have some friends who will be available to help us move, we have done some serious packing over the weekend, and although there is still plenty more to do, I’m a bit more confident that we’ll make it. Not completely confident. But in better spirits than last week when Zak was sick, I had to single-parent our two children and I was going nuts because I didn’t have any downtime at all. I mean, I’m even blogging, so it can’t be that bad!

Sometimes it’s annoying that our baby will wake up at any noise. Sometimes I see it as a blessing in disguise: it forces me to take some time off while she’s napping.

The end of… spit up?

I have said before that every time my baby goes through a new stage, I grieve because I know it’s my last baby. I grieved the end of pregnancy. I grieved having a tiny newborn that will fall asleep anywhere (especially in your arms). I grieved having an exclusively breastfed baby. But now, here is one I won’t grieve: my baby has stopped spitting up!

Well, there is still the very rare yam-colored spit-up, which is not that wonderful, but it seems like we are done with the constant, puke every time you lie down, kinda spit-up. Or the one that always happens on your best clothes (well, a mom’s best clothes are not all that fancy, but you know), usually in a public place, and almost certainly when you have forgotten to bring a cloth to wipe it.

There has to be some good to compensate all the extra work involved in having a mobile baby that really, really wants to go eat the cables under the computer… But she’s so cute! Here are some photos to prove it.

Smily face

Yams are yummy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Still lucky

I was woken up at midnight by my son. I went to the hallway to see him, whispering in the hope Zak and the baby would stay asleep.

-What is wrong?
- I’m all wet.

Great! He peed in bed. I can’t complain, really: it’s the first ever time he does that. We had a few wet beds from diapers leaking, and the odd throw-up. But this was my first full-blown pee in bed. Gosh, there’s a lot of pee in a preschooler’s bladder! Everything was soaked, from his pajamas to the waterproof mattress protector (best purchase ever: the mattress was bone dry) to his pillow and duvet. I had to clean him up a bit, remove everything from the bed (and throw it in the tub), dig a new mattress protector, fitted sheet and flat sheet, realize we don’t have another duvet but that – oh! miracle – the spare comforter has been temporarily stored in my son’s bedroom, and then, just as my son was going to break into tears because he wanted his duvet, I had one of my rare great parenting moments:

- That’s the comforter Grandpa and Grandma use when they’re here. You’ll be really warm and comfortable.

It worked! My son lied back in his toddler bed covered with the full size comforter, and went back to sleep. Me, on the other hand, not so much. I went back to bed but the noise woke up my daughter, who then proceeded to cry for a good half hour (because I refused to feed her again after only 2 hours from the last feed). She woke up again around 2, then made a peep around 3, and finally I fed her when she woke up at 4. So my longest stretch of sleep last night was from 4:30 to 6. I guess I must be getting used to it because I don’t even feel that tired. Or maybe it’s the tea and chocolate.

The irony of my story is that we spent a good part of the day, yesterday, buying a washer and dryer for our new apartment. Let me tell you, this morning the expense seemed even more justified and I can’t wait to have my own laundry in my very apartment.

April’s Fools!

I was never too fond of April’s Fools day because I lack a good imagination for pranks and, as a child especially, I was always the laughingstock. But I have to say I really enjoyed it this year. Not much happening: I didn’t check the news and I didn’t have anyone play a prank on me. What was great was the fallout of the prank WE played.

Zak and I, with one of our neighbours, publish a newsletter for our coop. It comes out every two months, around the first of the month. It should be the first, but we’re usually late so it’s often the first week. This month, though, we made sure it was distributed on the first of April, because it contained an article detailing how a chicken coop would soon be built in our building’s courtyard. Vancouver does allow people to raise backyard chicken, and there are some very green-minded people in our building, so several people actually believed it was true. Some got really upset (for fear of the noise, mess, etc. that would come with the chicken). Some thought it was a cool idea, but unfortunately we don’t have enough space to realize the idea in a legal fashion. In any way, it got a lot of people talking.

Our article stated that the motion to build the chicken coop would be put forward at the next General Meeting. When Zak had this awesome idea, we thought if people believed it, they would come to the meeting to try and vote it down, which they should do anyway (although only a minority of residents actually bother to show up), and we would all have a good laugh. Turns out that a few people spent a good deal of time researching the issue. I guess it was just plausible enough to be believable. We were a bit afraid of their reaction, but so far people seem to think it was all good, clean fun. Which it was.

Now, goats, on the other hand…. Just kidding.

The girlie stuff

I was at Sears today and went into the kids section to change my baby when I heard a mother and her pre-teen daughter discussing the purchase of a first bra. That’s when it hit me: I have a girl. Now I’m going to be stuck doing the girlie stuff with her!

When my son asked to pee standing up, I could tell Zak that he had to take care of it because it was boy’s stuff. I will also be able to rely on him to tackle such tasks as discussing shaving and deodorant. But now that I have a girl, it means I’m the one who will be stuck discussing bras, periods and birth-control pill with her. It also means that I have very little time before she realizes how lame I am. I mean, the day she’ll ask me to borrow my makeup, I’ll have to say “Sorry, sweetie, I don’t actually own any makeup”. I can live with that, I mean, I don’t feel the need to wear makeup. But I also own only one or two skirts that I barely ever wear, I don’t think I own any nylons, or high heel shoes, and you’d be hard press to find bras and panties that match in my underwear drawer. Oh, and all of my shirts actually cover my navel.

When I look at the teenagers around me, I can’t help but think that if my daughter ever looks like that and spends all that time trying to look girlie, we will have a hard time connecting. Let’s hope my baby turns into a tomboy. That would make things much easier.

Although I’m still not off the hook for that first bra purchase. Sigh!