Not quite Einstein (yet)

Since returning from our family vacation, I've had a serious case of cabin fever. Not entirely surprising, given that I went from picturesque ocean views and soaring mountains to my weedy backyard. The change of scenery was a shock.

Encouraged by Tom's worried expression (you know the one that husbands give their wives when they are thinking "Yeesh, my Ivy-league educated wife keeps sticking her tongue out at the baby. Is this the woman I married?"), BB and I sought an outing. When we logged our millionth mile in the Mount Pleasant cemetery this morning, said outing had to involve more car than stroller. And so Don Mills beckoned.

Armed with our new Ontario Science Centre membership, I loaded the stroller, diaper bag, car seat, purse, water bottle, baby blanket, Sophie teething toy, the babe and my ample behind into our CRV. By the time we reached the mecca of biomechanics, my previously cranky daughter was asleep. Sound asleep.

Fortunately, she stirred herself into consciousness just as we pulled into the KidSpark fun zone (as if anyone could sleep through the cacophony that was the bedlam of lights, sirens, and  screaming 4-year olds at the water splash table). We hit the toddler play area and did as much as one could with a baby who can neither sit nor stand independently. Then we wandered around and even took in the fancy Mars exhibit.

After whimpering for a short while, BB conked out. She's been asleep for more than an hour, despite numerous stroller/car seat/car /crib location changes. It was all just too much for her.

Although my mother thinks that BB is "very intelligent", it's hard to say if science is going to be her thing. I guess I'll have to give her a little time before declaring her the next Einstein. For now, we'll focus on cementing the difference between nighttime and day.

Woman overboard

When I think I've got problems, life typically introduces me to someone who has it worse. Nothing like a karmic reminder of how good you have it.

This morning, BabyBear and I encountered just such a reminder at a "sleep issues" workshop put on by our local Ontario Early Years Centre. BB is teething, prompting her to wake up most of Moore Park 4 or 5 times each night (my profound apologies to the neighbours). Surely a sleep issues workshop was just what my little insomniac ordered.

We were outrageously early, a new strategy I'm employing so as to avoid being 10 minutes late to everything in my life. Another new mom was overly punctual, so we started talking. Rather than making the typical small talk for a minutes, however, this mom was downright fascinated by my kid. Question after question, she just couldn't get enough of us. (Who could blame her, right?)

And then it hit me - this woman was begging for adult conversation. Somebody throw out a life preserver. We have a woman overboard. One of our own is about to lose her mind to the deep isolation that is new motherhood.

After the workshop, I took it upon myself to toss her a friendly PFD. And man did she cling to it in a hurry. The poor thing was so lonely that she went grocery shopping with me on my way home from the workshop. Up and down the aisles, telling me her story while I grabbed some eggs.

When you next come across a bleary-eyed mother who is just a bit too into you, recognize the signs. She could use a friendly ear, along with an invitation to your next play group outing. In fairness, someone probably did it for you a few months ago when you were about to go under. (In my case, thanks are due to Lyne.)

Sleepy drama queen

Tom puts up with 2 high maintenance women in the house. After 17 years together, he appears to have me figured out (most of the time, at least). Neither of us has the BabyBear code cracked, however, particularly on the matter of sleep. 

Since returning from our family adventure out west, BB's sleep patterns have been FUBARed. When she didn't return to sanity last week, I decided to get serious. Lock the door, unplug the phone, draw the blinds...welcome to baby sleep boot camp.

For several days, I have stayed close to home and watched for sleepy cues. When crankiness arises, we strip off clothes (hers, not mine), diaper, feed, and get snugged in her fancy pink sleeping bag (perhaps a baby's equivalent of Yves Delorme bedding). For some reason, this pattern consistently yields 30 minutes of light slumber. Not victory, but I'll take it.

During this afternoon's nap attempt, BabyBear refused to sleep. She sang to the animals on her wall and watched the psychedelic fish in her aquarium contraption. When sleep did not come, babbling became squawking and squawking became an insistent siren. Rather than picking her up as I normally would, something made me stroke her forehead first. And just as I was milliseconds away from lifting BabyBear to my chest, she stiffened onto her side, closed her eyes, and heaved a sigh of exhaustion.

Sleep had come to the drama queen, enabled by the softest touch of her mother's hand.

Girls Night Out

Yesterday marked my first night out sans babe. The event was just what I needed: great friends, delightful weather, and Jim Cuddy singing to me and only me (such a shame for the other Blue Rodeo fans in attendance). 

I had the timing planned to perfection (a classic new mom mistake): 6:55 bathtime, 7:05 feed, 7:15 hand-off to Tom, and 7:20 departure. BB was nodding off beautifully as I tiptoed down our front steps en route to giddy freedom.

On my end, the evening unfolded just as it should. Girlfriend #1 was ready promptly and we headed downtown to fetch Girlfriends 2 through 4. Extracting them from the McKinsey alumni party took some effort, but the delay gave me some time to call home to check on things. When my calls went to voicemail, I assumed that Tom was puttering in the backyard.

It turns out that Tom had instead resorted to an evening car ride to quiet my daughter's yelping. But moments after I had left the 'hood, BabyBear's snot-filled nose startled her awake. No amount of pacing, bouncing, and shushing would settle her again. When Tom tried giving her a bottle, she spat the milk out as quickly as she had taken it in. At a lost for alternatives, Tom packed our little one in the car and drove in circles.

All this probably sounds like the sort of thing that every parent does at some point in time. It sounds like a reasonable sacrifice on Tom's part. In truth, I have omitted an important detail. To complete the account, I must admit that last night marked our 9th wedding anniversary. 

In addition to the flowers Tom gave me, he gave me the best anniversary present of all, a much-needed break and a short return to life as it was before BabyBear. As the sun rose this morning and I awoke to my daughter's giggles, however, it felt good to be back.

One thing is certain. I will not wait another 4 months before gathering up my girlfriends again. Next time, let's hope that BabyBear understands that her invitation was not lost in the mail.

Inadvertent deprivation

The Invest In Kids developmental milestones have failed me. I'm all over their suggestions for when BabyBear should be reaching, babbling and sitting up. We are right on schedule - check, check and check. Today, however, I learned that my daughter is way behind in perhaps one of the most important childhood activities of all - swinging.

Prior to a swim outing with Lyne, a new friend from Rainbow Songs, we found ourselves killing time on a playground. Imagine my surprise when Lyne suggested that we push the kids on the swings. At first, I thought she was kidding. My little one doesn't swing. She's not even 4 months old. Isn't swinging more of a toddler activity?

It turns out that babies can swing. This was complete news to me. Here I've been, considering myself a good mother, completely oblivious to the fact that my daughter could be swinging the afternoons away. What's more? It turns out that she could be shimmying up and down the slide too.

For the sake of my daughter, please let me know what else I might be missing. Her future is in your hands.

Returning to reality with the best intentions

Today marked my first day back in the real world. Gone are the days of vacation bliss and tag-team parenting. I made my own bed for the first time in 3 weeks and will not find a chocolate on my pillow come sundown.

Leading up to this morning, I planned to kick the week off with BabyBear's best day ever. A morning walk through the cemetery. Lots of time on the play mat, encouraging BB to roll over without pinning her arm awkwardly under her own body weight. We'd start easing back into our usual nap routine and sprinkle reading throughout the afternoon. Heck, I'd even eat veggies without anyone looking.

The reality behind my return to the real world? For starters, I suctioned snot from my cold-ridden daughter's nose. I don't know about your kids, but mine did not like the nose suction experience one bit. My dreams of sunny promenades and clean, vegan living evaporated. The babe got progressively less enchanting as the day wore on, landing at downright miserable by sunset. Bedtime involved 2 hours of bouncing, shushing, pacing, and, at one point, begging.

Thankfully, tomorrow is a new day, my friends. As Lucy Maud Montgomery's Anne would say, "Tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it". Let's hope that my tomorrow is fresh with no snot in it either. 

Vacationing with the grandparents AKA "Saving BabyBear"

The final leg of our family vacation involved 5 days in Colorado with my parents. Since we left Tofino, I had been looking forward to having an extra set of hands to manage BabyBear. I had forgotten that these helping hands also have strong opinions about what BabyBear needs.

To be fair, I don't have a completely stellar track record in the mommy department. While my mom was babysitting last week, she found BabyBear sucking back on a piece of twine. I had affixed said a piece of twine to BB's play mat when I needed something (anything!) with which to hang some brightly contrasting mobile ornaments. That's right, I had tied the string of asphyxiation to the mat of neglect. In my defense, I did it at a time when BB didn't even know that she had hands, let alone how to pull on mobile pieces and put things in her mouth.

In light of my stupid mommy moves and my mother's 33+ years of experience, it's no surprise that Colorado heard a lot about how I'm going to ruin the precious grandchild. For the sake of completeness, shall we visit my shortcomings? Oh yes, let's!

1. My not quite 4-month old daughter should not be left to nap in the middle of a king sized bed. Between falling asleep and the moment of wakefulness, she could develop the ability to roll 3 consecutive times, mount the protective wall of pillows, and vault herself from the bed.

2. BabyBear is ready to sit up and eat. Specifically, she is ready to taste vanilla ice cream infused with a tasty peach rum sauce. ("If she's allowed those Vitamin D drops, surely she can have a taste of Haagen Daz.")

3. When BB cries, it must be as a direct result of something I am doing to her. And the only remedy is a covert grandparent rescue. Never mind if Tom is half-naked in the vicinity of the crying babe. He'll learn to either remain fully clothed at all times or get accustomed to his mother-in-law breezing past while he stands in his gitch.

The house has been rather quiet today, what without anyone waxing on about BabyBear's preferences, outstanding intellect, and delightful demeanor. Perhaps I'll Skype my mom tomorrow to help ease the silence. Along with the aforementioned silliness, she does have some good ideas. And I'm certainly very new to this game.

3 flights, 3 weeks and a 3-month old

A few weeks back, we left for our first family vacation. The itinerary called for 3 weeks in BC and Colorado with as many flights. I'm happy to say that BabyBear enjoyed her interaction with Air Canada, the worst airline in the developed world. She's also been a champ when on the ground, despite her parents making the occasional questionable judgment call.

We knew that traveling with an infant would be an adventure, but getting on that first plane was more challenging than we had thought. In the evening prior to our departure, Tom was up all night packing and wrapping up his practice obligations. I couldn't sleep, so I printed our boarding passes at 3:30 am, only to find that BabyBear didn't have one. Thankfully, Air Canada schedules some of its best reservation agents in the wee hours and they helped us get sorted out.

Given that we weren't sleeping, we decided to leave for the airport outrageously early. Four hours prior to our flight time seemed like loads of time to manage baby and luggage. We stopped into Tom's office on the way to the airport and had a few bumps there. We parked our car and reached Air Canada's ticket counter, where BabyBear got her ticket and boarding pass. At this point, relief washed over me. With boarding passes in hand and 90 minutes remaining until our flight's departure, I knew that we were in good shape.

All that stood between us and the friendly skies were baggage check and security. Those of you who have flown in recent weeks may already know what's coming. If you've been on the ground lately, please allow me to warn you about the new baggage restrictions.

Although our line up for baggage check was not long, it now takes the average party somewhere in the range of 20 minutes to check their bags. There are weight restrictions. There are limits on the size of one's bag, regardless of weight. You can't send a duffle bag anywhere, unless it contains hockey equipment. No shin pads? Well, you are out of luck.

Our baggage check experience involved a cardboard box, plastic bags, packing tape and excessive use of a tape measure. By the time we reached the gate, they were calling for those traveling with small children.

Fortunately, BabyBear was a dream for the flight. She slept ate and slept for 90% of the trip and whimpered for all of 5 minutes. With the help of some delightfully encouraging and accommodating flight attendants, we pushed our stroller into the Kelowna airport and found our bags in minutes.

Since then, BabyBear has been a trooper, strapped into a Baby Bjorn, buckled into her stroller, and tethered into her car seat. She has dined well, sought adventure on a bear watching tour, and explored wineries, rainforests and tidal pools. If we could just get her to return to her usual sleeping through the night routine, then we'd be golden.

Although this family vacation is ongoing, we are confident that it will end as a success. To ensure just that, we will live by the following lessons:
1. It takes twice as long to get anywhere with an infant.
2. A family can expect pack half as much activity into a day as a couple once did.
3. When a baby is fussy, breastfeeding cures all. If some dude can blend flipflops and a swimsuit with his Relais & Chateaux dining experience, then I can pull out my Hooter Hider without shame.

More updates and some photos to follow. Until then, happy travels to you all.