Chim Chim Cher-ee

Liliane asked if she could watch Mary Poppins for the first time yesterday.  

What!? Hey, don't get sarcastic.

It was a big moment for me! As a baby (according to my parents) I listened to the music from that film over and over, and I, in turn, made Liliane listen to it over and over when she was a baby. Before she could talk and ask me to please, please listen to something ELSE.  

Once the film got started I did a lot of explaining about who was mean (the nanny leaving at the beginning) and who was not (the Constable, Admiral Boom and Bert). 

But as soon as we got to the dancing penguins, she was hooked. Another convert.


In other news, I took my new favourite picture of Alice last night.

*already scheming to not like musicals*

We'll see about that.

In other, other news, it's officially halfway through November! Since I still have FIFTEEN more posts to figure out, please feel free to show your appreciation by leaving a comment! 

Anyone?

*tap tap* Is this thing on?

Monday Morning Almost-Laugh

A few weeks ago I attempted to capture Alice's newly minted, squeaky giggle on camera. It didn't work but Liliane and I had fun trying.

Yes, that's Liliane repeating CACA over and over at the beginning. That word is the pinnacle of a preschooler comedy routine, a guaranteed hit with her crowd. Alice, not so much.

Happy Monday everybody!

Also, I'm taking requests for subjects to post about - just leave me a comment. PLEASE. There are SIXTEEN days left in November.

Nerd Alert

Of COURSE I'm wearing a Star Wars onesie (courtesy of Auntie Bari and Uncle Matthew)


























Have you met my parents?

Yeah.

Please send help.

Yesterday at 10:13 AM, Parc Jarry

A view of the Friday 10AM Cardio-Poussette (Cardio Stroller) class from my usual spot at the back. 

 Just me and the Mom who has to stop and breastfeed.  And sometimes she's even faster than me.

But I could be doing this instead of running around a chilly park in November!

Go me! 

In other news, we're almost half way through November.  Right? RIGHT? 

I'm running out of ideas taking requests for blog posts - leave me a comment if there is something you'd like to see here this month!

Remembering

I am lucky to have a veteran in my life. This is my grandfather, Gordon Fairclough (technically he's my step-Grandfather but we've never been big on making that distinction) and I have the pleasure of being able to speak to him on this day every year. 

He had a remarkable experience in World War 2 that you could actually read for yourself in his book Brick Hill and Beyond.

His story reads like the synopsis of an Oscar-winning, Hollywood blockbuster:

Taken prisoner while defending at anti-aircraft gun site at Brickhill Peninsula on the island of Hong Kong in 1941, Gordon Fairclough at age 22 was sent to the North Point Prison where the flies were so bad he received orders to spend several hours a day swatting them. "A six-foot barrack table would appear to move," he recalls in his self-published memoir, Brick Hill and Beyond (Vancouver: Superior Imaging, $13). "I remember counting the flies that I had killed with one swat, and the result was 49 flies." Sickness was taking its toll, along with outrageous cruelty from the Japanese and a starvation diet, so Fairclough and a companion rationally considered the viability of escape. "Having decided that it was a 50/50 chance of survival whether we stayed as prisoners or attempted to escape," he (and several others during the early 1940s) managed to free themselves by trekking across China and into Burma. When he finally returned home to England as a captain in 1945, after military service in India, he was awarded the Military Cross from King George VI. Troubled by recurring nightmares until 1951, he immigrated to Canada in 1953 and now lives in Tsawwassen, B.C. The degradations endured by Allied soldiers in Hong Kong, including Canadian prisoners held at Shan Shui Po, remain under-publicized, so only an effete critic will not welcome Fairclough's mostly humble and often humourous recollections. 
(-from from website ABC Bookworld)

HE WALKED ACROSS CHINA INTO BURMA.

Can you imagine?

Well try, because this day is set apart for us to be grateful for the sacrifices the men and women of the armed forces made and continue to make today.

Thank you.

Potty Mouth

Wow, nice drawing Liliane, I love the colours!  What is it?

Un Papa qui fait caca.

*pause*

A man pooping?

Oui Maman.

Alrighty then. 

Wordless Wednesday: Eyelash Envy

Arrival, Part 2

Before I continue, I want to point out that my husband Stéphane was a total hero throughout this whole process. He read Part 1 yesterday and commented that I made him sound like a bit of a loser.  Not my intention! Aside from drawing a blank on how to get to the hospital (forgivable in the circumstances), he was my hero.

So!

There we were, at the hospital at, um, a fairly advanced stage of labour. The nurses were casually asking me admission questions and filling in forms as I struggled to get into a gown and then pee. Ha! Not happening.

My thing with labour is that I handle it best standing up. So I kept standing and walking and yowling and the nurse kept asking me to lie down.  They sent Stéphane off to admissions so I was with our doula and between contractions  I gasped out that I would be happy to lie down as SOON AS SHE WAS FINISHED FILLING IN FORMS.

Once we determined that I was indeed at 7 cm, I was allowed to stand up again and three contractions later.... BOOM.  I'm pushing!

You have to remember that this is not a sensation I was familiar with. I toughed out my entire labour the first time around without an epidural (only because the epidural guy was busy with the lady having twins next door) so I knew what it was like to get to 10cm.  A world of pain. But the whole pushing thing was new. And entirely out of my control.

Suffice it to say a lot of hustling happened at that point as I got back on the table and Stéphane was rushed back upstairs.

Now, when we arrived, I believe I politely requested some pain medication. Something to the effect of "Aaaaarrrrrrrggggkkkkk I can't taaaaakkke thiiiiiis I neeeeeeed druuuuuugggs NOOOOWWWWWWW." But my doula grabbed me by the shoulders and she said: "you'll be done in a half an hour, you can do it." Which didn't help the pain AT ALL but it was enough to get me focused on gittin' 'er done. But first I tore my gown off and gave Johanne the crazy lady in labour face when she tried to cover me up with it.

It's important for me to say that I wasn't planning on absolutely having an epidural-free experience. I don't want to engage in that horrible female exercise of one-upmanship when it comes to childbirth. (Oh yeah? Well *I* asked the nurse to bash my kneecaps as I was pushing just so I could experience MORE pain, I mean, more of the joy of childbirth!) Uh, no. 


But with an epidural comes the possibility of other complications (some of which I experienced with Liliane - not being able to pee for three days is seriously awful) plus having to wear a claustrophobia-inducing monitor, etc. And since I only had to endure a half hour, I figured what the heck.

But what a half hour it was. Dr. Merovitz arrived and she was calm and kind and open to me trying to push in a different position. With Stéphane and Johanne at my side sponging me off with cool water, I tried pushing on my side a little. It wasn't happening.  Dr. Merovitz helped me find a position, to grab the handles and really concentrate on what I was trying to do. It's wild to be in that much pain and know that YOU are the one that can bring it to an end. You and the baby. But I was still lucid and basically pain-free between the contractions so it wasn't long before the end was in sight.

I'm big on status updates (plus I keep my eyes firmly closed) so Stéphane kept encouraging me with progress reports.

Theresa: aarrruuugggg, what's happening????
Stéphane: You're doing great, I can see her hair!
Johanne: Do you want to reach down and touch her head?
Theresa: NO, I WANT TO BE DONE NOW

But here's where it gets interesting.

I knew that once the head was almost out, the hard part was almost over.  So when the Doctor said that we were at that point (and I started to feel the crowning - please shoot me now), I was surprised when the next push didn't finish the job.

Imagine my surprise when all of a sudden my legs were being pushed back as far as they could go (hey, I don't BEND THAT WAY) and my uterus was being removed with pliers. No, not really, it was better than that! Unbeknownst to me, Dr. Merovitz had given the signal (I remember hearing "big baby" through my pain haze at some point) and all the nurses leapt into position to perform the McRoberts manoeuvre.

It sounds so benign. Cute even.  But no, the McRoberts maneouvre is not a style of knitting, nor an evasive tactic that you saw once on Star Trek, it's not even a dance move. Think of it like a kind of torture with a jaunty Scottish name.

When I regained consciousness (I didn't really pass out, but if ever someone could die from sheer pain, that would have been the moment.) This was on my chest:

Are you talkin' to me?

I found out later that the reason for trying to kill me performing the McRoberts manoeuvre was due to shoulder dystocia.  Basically our 9 pound, 1 ounce linebacker got stuck at the exit. But thanks to Dr. Merovitz and a crack team of nurses, we had a happy ending.

Actually, thanks to Dr. Merovitz and her awesome sewin' up skillz, I can confirm that all is well in that region.  And of course all is well with Alice.

Stéphane got to cut the cord and as I pushed out the placenta (Can someone just pull it for me? No?), then went through all the stitching up (Um, I CAN FEEL THAT) and cleaning up, our new babe figured out the breastfeeding in no time flat.  Which was extra impressive given that I had the major shakes afterwards (adrenalin apparently?). When it was his turn, Stéphane whipped off his shirt to get the full skin on skin experience like a pro. The nurses were impressed.

Full disclosure: I didn't have that overwhelming "I'm so in love" feeling right away. First it was "holy cow that's a big baby" then "I guess she's not blonde like Liliane" and then "hey, she knows how to latch on already!"  But once I was all fixed up and could finally close my legs (it's amazing how good that feels), I was falling in love. Not just with her, but with the whole second baby experience.

I held Alice in my arms as the orderly wheeled us through the halls to get to our room. She didn't like his deep voice but she was happy in my arms. I was giddy with relief.

My OB, Dr. Johnson, stopped to see us a few hours later.  She had heard all about our adventures and half-heartedly tsk-tsked me for waiting so long at home. But not really. Then she gave me props for surviving the McRoberts manoeuvre. She said that even when you've had an epidural it's painful.

No, REALLY?

We had the sweetest nurses and we even ended up back in the same room we had with Liliane! See, meant to be.

Our doula, Johanne

I sent Stéphane home to sleep that night in air-conditioned comfort and Alice and I spent the night cuddling and feeding.  It was peaceful and a little too warm but otherwise, bliss. I even got to read my book a little (yay Kobo!) and we listened to Eddie Vedder ukele music on my ipod. Since it drove me crazy never knowing what time it was last time, I had at least three different clocks in the room.

Stéphane's parents and sister brought Liliane for a visit the next morning. I had a shower before they got there (no easy feat with a catheter, but I was determined) and I literally felt like a million bucks. Like a million bucks dragging around a bag of my own urine, but still.

We left the hospital around 7PM that night.  A totally different experience from the 4-day marathon we had with Liliane.  I had a lot of anxiety about the whole peeing thing and had a minor meltdown when I had to have a catheter but by Saturday afternoon, everything was in working order.

Our friend Pierre came to drive us home. It was a glorious Montreal summer evening. Warm but not too hot, a golden, setting sun, everything looked beautiful.  Alice didn't love the car seat but stopped crying once we started moving. 

Welcome home baby!

Stéphane's saintly parents wanted to give us time alone to get organized at home so Liliane stayed with them two more nights. We pretty much got into our pajamas and went to sleep.Alice was pretty hungry so I was feeding her every 2 hours or so but it wasn't as bad as I had remembered. (Notice a pattern here?) 

And then the babymoon started in earnest. I was having that experience that you hear other people talk about. That gooshy, mushy, marveling at her fingernails experience. I missed it the first time around (thanks A LOT brain chemicals) but I reveled in it with Alice. Sigh.

So that's her story.  She continues to be a delight.

Looking back almost four months later, I am still happy with the choices we made.  I loved having a doula (even though she was made to feel unwelcome in the delivery room, but that's another post), I have the loveliest nostalgia for all the staff at the hospital. Liliane adores her little sister and has been sweet and gentle with her from Day 1. My husband continues to be a hero, working hard at his job and working hard at being an exceptional Dad to two girls.

All in all, we rocked it.  

Arrival, Part 1

You know how some things just come together and you know that this is how it's supposed to happen? That was Alice.  Nothing like our induction experience the first time around where it was all planned and controlled.  Nope, Alice did her own thing and we just went along for the ride.

I'll start by saying that Thursday is my favourite day of the week. For real. Partly due to that lovely Montréal tradition of the Thursday 5 à 7, partly because it's almost Friday and the whole weekend is stretched out in front of you, just one more day of work.  I love that.

So it was a Thursday, July 21st, 5 days after my due date. It was about eight thousand degrees outside and ridiculously humid and I had my weekly appointment scheduled at noon with my OB. I took this picture as I was heading out the door. You may remember that I was sporting a hideously bruised left leg so I actually wore a cute dress and put on some jewelry and even a little makeup to distract myself from the OVERDUE OVERDUE OVERDUE I'M SO OVER BEING SO HUGE feeling.

I have had my membranes stripped before. With Liliane, the experience was so awful that I was plunged into dark self doubt about my ability to survive childbirth.  Ha! Turns out poking around your very closed and unprepared cervix is more painful than actually squeezing a baby out of there but who knew?

ANYWAY, by this time I had already been swept twice (I grit my teeth and gripped the table and told them to GO FOR IT and surprisingly, it wasn't half as bad as I remembered. Go figure.) Since I was overdue and really so ready to be please be not pregnant anymore, Dr. Johnson went in for another sweep and TA DA! Broke my water.

In case you haven't had the pleasure, let me clarify that it's nothing like you've seen in the movies or anything. Oopsie, my water broke! (*dainty chuckle*) No way man, it's like a warm ocean of liquid. AN OCEAN. The good news was I didn't have to clean it up. The other good news was that the fluid was all clear so we were officially on our way.  I didn't immediately have any contractions (thankfully) so once my wave of nausea had passed I was able to clean myself off, wad up a bunch of sanitary products, put my dress back on (hallelujah, I wasn't wearing shorts) and waddle back to the car without leaving a trail of "is that lady peeing?" behind me.

My doctor told me to head to the hospital. I negotiated a stop at home to get my stuff and organize for Liliane to be picked up but after that, we were hospital bound.

I got to the car and called Stéphane who went immediately into panic mode. I tried to reassure him that I wasn't having contractions yet so don't worry but I don't think he heard me over the hyperventilating.  I called the doula and my family from the car and went through every emotion on the drive home from elation to dread to BRING IT.

Stéphane went to pick up Liliane from daycare and I got into the shower (what a relief).  Still no contractions so I calmly finished packing up Liliane's stuff and we got her out the door with Grandmaman and Grandpapa.  She was so excited to go off and be spoiled for a few days. Stéphane had started to breathe normally again by this point.

It was around 3PM when I started to feel the first telltale twinges. I knew that the official plan was to go to the hospital, but since things were moving so slowly, we thought, why rush?  See how cocky you get when you've already done it once?

By 5PM contractions were maybe 10 minutes apart. I kept busy, walking around and making phonecalls and psyching myself up.  We ate some dinner around 6, then took a walk to keep things moving plus I thought a frozen lemonade from DQ would make me happy.  Do I get a discount for being in labour?

Johanne the doula arrived around 8PM and although my contractions were clocking in steadily at every 8 or 10 minutes, they would almost disappear as soon as I sat down.  She checked the baby's heartbeat (all good) and we talked about our next move. Since going to the hospital would mean hanging around and waiting there (me in a bed but my team in very uncomfortable chairs) or possibly being induced to speed up the process (no thanks), we decided to stay at home a little longer.  In fact, we were all pretty worn out and knowing that sleep was going to soon be hard to come by, we actually went to bed.

Oh, it was blissful. Stéphane fell asleep immediately and Johanne stretched out on the sofa.  We kept a few lights on low and it was so calm and so quiet. I dozed and occasionally breathed through some of the more intense pain but it was mostly just peaceful.  I'll never forget it, the best decision we could have made.

At about 2AM I woke up, shivering.  Not cold, but my teeth were chattering. I got up and walked around a little, took a lot of deep breaths and wrapped myself in my old cat comforter, a blanket I've had since I was about 10.  Contractions were coming stronger but still at least 5 minutes apart and not more than 30 seconds long. I went back to bed all curled up in my blanket and dozed off again but by 3 the contractions were a solid 3 minutes apart. Time to go.

I was so dreading that ride to the hospital, positive that I would be sick in the car. Stéphane was all prepared with plastic bags and towels. And although contractions were fast and furious, I was totally lucid in those minutes between. Which was good when I had to explain the best route to get there. Jean Talon (gasp, gasp), all the way to Cote des neiges (aaarrrrrrragggg). 

Labouring in the car was completely unpleasant but I didn't barf (yay!) and we had the road to ourselves so it only took about 10 minutes to get there.  By the time we got to Emergency I was that lady from the movies, huffing and puffing and stopping every couple of minutes to yowl through another contraction.

When we got upstairs to the birthing centre, (no thanks wheelchair, gotta keep moving) the nurses were not only totally unfazed by my contractions, (speak up dear, I can't hear you) they were irritated that we waited so long to come in. (Your water broke WHEN?)

It was 3:45 AM and I was 7 centimeters dilated.

Stay tuned for Part 2!

Sundays in November

Our family loves Christmas and we're big on the Christmas Rules. For example, we bust out the Christmas carols in November, but ONLY on Sundays.

I hear Scroogey people complaining already about holiday music, but I love it. Frankly I am suspicious of people who don't like Christmas music.  Of course it's normal not like SOME or even MOST of it (example - no thanks Justin Bieber!) but these days there is something for everyone out there. What's not to love about music that celebrates peace, happiness and good will towards your fellow man? Even the Grinch likes Christmas music in the end.

ANYWAY today is the first Sunday in November! As an adult, it almost always catches me by surprise. Usually it goes something like: Hey, I can't believe it's already November, my stomach is still sore from all that Halloween candy. And it's all dark and depressing outside already. Sigh. But hey, tomorrow is Sunday and I can listen to Christmas music! (insert husband eyeroll here).

Since it's only one day out of each week you don't wear out your whole Christmas music collection and it breaks up the drear of November with sparkly visions of cozying up by the fire and eating too much shortbread. Can't wait.

My earliest Christmas music memories all revolve around the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Listening to their Christmas album sends me back to the green carpet living room with the fireplace and the big stereo with the record player and the tinsel gumdrop tree at our aunt and uncle's house down the block.

Enjoy.

(Unless you are a jerk someone who doesn't like Christmas music or happy memories in which case, why are you still reading this?)

Bathing Beauty

Who are you and what have you done with my kitchen sink bath?


Oh hai! It's you, the milk lady!


Hey! This means I will finally stop smelling like sour milk and pee? Hooray! Also, please take care of my feet - the toe lint is getting out of control.


Must. Look. At. Dora. Toys.


OK, this is awesome! As you were.


Voilà. First bath in the big bathtub. Welcome to our life of non-stop excitement.

Friday Favourite

It's Friday so welcome to... Friday Favourite! This is a new feature wherein I share something that I like with you all.  (Hence the catchy title.)

If you've ever spent any time at the hospital, you know that the last thing that come to mind is "hey, this place feels like a spa."  Quadruple that feeling if you happen to have given birth in which case your idea  of luxurious pampering is two minutes of shut-eye and maybe a shower. Hello - lamest spa treatment ever.

Knowing what awaited me this time, I brought a little piece of the spa with me. 

My friend Paola (follow her on Twitter, she's hilarious) brought me a gateway tube of Bliss Lemon and Sage Body Butter for my birthday. Despite being eighty bazillion weeks pregnant, I held that lotion to my nose and was immediately transported to a happy, less bloated and cranky place.

I casually mentioned to her a few days later that if ever she was going back to Sephora anytime soon, please oh please can you get me MORE OF THAT LOTION.  

Turns out it comes in "desperate pregnant lady size" (14 oz) and costs $35.  My friends, it's worth it.  That stuff is creamy but not greasy, light but effective and the scent is delicious but not overpowering.  A guaranteed mood-lifter.

Here is a link to it on the Sephora Canada site: http://www.sephora.com/browse/product.jhtml?id=P258625&shouldPaginate=true&categoryId=4326

I just noticed while I was on the site that there is a BIGGER BOTTLE available. 

Hello, Santa?

Happy Friday!

Halloween, PART 2

Well! Fancy meeting you here! 

If you are wondering why I am still on Halloween, scroll down and read yesterday's post. 

(TL;DR - posting everyday for month of November, need content)

Halloween is second only to Christmas around here so there was a lot of buildup to the actual DAY. 

Stéphane left work early and I prepped a dinner that we could eat really quickly in order to start trick or treating before the cranky hour.

Why yes that IS a sandwich in the shape of a ghost.

I love this photo not only because it showcases my mad skilz at cutting pizza into the shape of a cat, but also because his expression is exactly the same as Liliane's in the above picture. Man, you'd think they were related.

After repeating about eighty gazillion times that we were going out only once it got dark, we almost killed her by taking photos on top of it all. 

This is how Liliane smiles. Don't ask me why arms have to be included. Also, check out Alice who is already working on her "my family is such an embarrassment" expression. 

That's better.

The haul! 

It was actually a really pleasant night to be walking around so we were out for at least an hour this year before even Ariel Ballerina's endless energy started to drag.    

We saw lots of fun houses with really cool decorations and pumpkins and one memorable stop offering shots to the adults. Having watched too many episodes of Criminal Minds lately, we declined. ("our unsub is likely a personable, friendly, otherwise unremarkable middle-aged male who offers free, poisoned alcohol to unsuspecting neighbours"). Ha.

All in all, lots of fun. And that was BEFORE we took our cut of the treats.

Same time tomorrow?

Wordless Wednesday: Snuggly Siblings Edition

All November, All New, All ARRRGGGH!

The NaBloPoMo tagline is "Post something every day for a month. That's all you have to do."

It doesn't say, "Post something AMAZING every day" or "Post something WICKEDLY FUNNY and INSIGHTFUL every day." Nope. So just keep that in mind when I flood y'all with baby pictures instead of actually writing anything.


Would that be so bad?

Welcome to November! Let's start by looking back, shall we? I seem to lack the ability to move on from things this year. I have only recently and reluctantly acknowledged that Alice doesn't actually fit in the three month sleepers anymore (What? Her legs are supposed to be bunched up like that) and I'm holding on to every single moment of her babyhood. This attitude is spilling into the rest of my life which means that I'll be dragging out Halloween for a little while even though it was SOOO yesterday. Literally.

This year we blew Liliane's mind by finding not just an Ariel costume, but an Ariel BALLERINA costume. Then she actually got to wear it to her BALLET class on Saturday. Jackpot!

We had ourselves a Halloween dinner party on Saturday wherein we feasted on fall fare (slow-cooked pork chops, roasted veggies, sweet and regular mashed potatoes and cupcakes, natch)...

...and let Liliane and Luana eat too much crap and run around playing a game of "let's scream at 30 second intervals."

This may have had something to do with the cupcakes.

I managed to once again to not get a picture of Pierre, Ariel and Remy. Our imaginary friends! No, really, they came too and Remy was even dressed up. Adorable.

So... I have more photos but hey! Since I'll be back here tomorrow, I'll post them then.

I told you I would be dragging this out.

NaBloPoMo Day 1 - done!  Same time tomorrow?