My greatest accomplishment of late

I'm so proud of myself. And my pride has nothing to do with my child's latest new new thing. Instead, it's all about me and my own greatness.

What has Tamara done, you ask? What has got MamaBear puffing out her lactating chest and shaking all that God and pregnancy gave her?

Why, this self-love-athon is all about the fact that I haven't eaten any Halloween candy yet. (These days, I'm seeking wins wherever I can find 'em.)

Usually by this time of year, I've already ODed twice on Tootsie Rolls. Come Halloween week, I am seeking a path to recovery along a trail of Snickers wrappers. If you ask me what I had eaten on a typical October day, my snack list would remind you of The Very Hungry Caterpillar (1 pack of jelly beans, 2 Peppermint Patties, 3 Dove squares, 4 Hershey Kisses...).

My secret this year has nothing to do with willpower. Instead, I banned all candy from the house until Friday afternoon. When I walk by the candy wall at Loblaws, I turn away and sniff "You are dead to me".

Now, I could be setting myself up for a mother of nasty relapse. Good thing I have a friend coming over on Friday evening to pull me from my cheap chocolate coma.

Adventures in baby food

In addition to being nutritious and evidence of a mother's love, homemade baby food is supposed to be cheap. Always looking for a bargain, I thought I could handle a little fruits and veggies blender action.

Surprisingly, today's foray into baby food was the most expensive part of my weekend. Let's tabulate the damage:

Organic apples, pears and sweet potatoes ---------------------- $33.51
New food mill from Kitchen Stuff Plus --------------------------- $26.25
Impulse purchases made alongside food mill ------------------$29.40
Audiobook for background entertainment ----------------------$16.26

Which brings us to a grand total of $105.42. Thank goodness I didn't get sucked into the little baby food containers that Moms To Be has declared a "must have".

For the record, BabyBear spat out most of tonight's puree. Fabulous.

Discovering my inner June Cleaver

Aside from the embarassing experiences chronicled here, mommyhood has been a fab experience. I just can't get enough of BabyBear and all the fun that this city offers a new mom. In light of my passion for all things baby, I'm starting to think of myself as the godfather of the North Toronto stroller mafia. (Or godmother...whatever.)

As I explore this new world, I sense a tension between my old and emerging selves. The old me read the Wall Street Journal. The new mom in me surfs the web for crockpot recipes. Heck, this Wharton-educated capitalist pig even voted for a Green Party candidate in the federal election, all because my child deserves a healthy planet. (Well, that and because I think Stephen Harper is intolerant...but that's another blog post.)

You think I'm exaggerating? Oh no, this is real. I'm freezing homemade baby food in ice cube trays. I'm vacuuming the house with BabyBear strapped into the Baby Bjorn. I'm crafting weekly meal plans - and not one of the nights calls for Amaya take-out.

One thing assures Tom that my domestic diva kick will not last: I'm not very good at it. Tonight's beef stroganoff lacked mushrooms. I kept BabyBear in her pajamas all day today. And when my mother stayed with us last week, she downgraded the experience from "like camping" to "like visiting a third world country". (I do keep the house clean, but even I will admit that one needs a wrench to turn on our dryer.)

Ultimately, I'm grateful for this opportunity, but glad that professional pursuits will pull me back next year. In the meantime, however, I'm still fascinated by midday happenings in the 'hood and every new new thing that BabyBear throws at me.

A swim diaper PSA

Please allow me to make a public service announcement about Kushies swim diapers. In short, they are not waterproof. Not even a little.

BabyBear and I have enjoyed our aquafit/swim class combo for a few months now. Up until this point, we have been using Lil Swimmers disposable swim diapers. The success of the class and our ongoing commitment to swim skills prompted me to switch to washable swim diapers, complete with cute patterns in flashy colours.

BB was not particularly happy about life when I got her dressed for class yesterday. She stopped wailing as I picked her up and climbed the stairs to the pool. It was then that I realized that reference to "water resistant" in the product description was misleading. I had wasted $12 on our cute, but free flowing, nappy.

BB had stopped crying only so she could focus on peeing all over me. Already late for class, I just marched on and submerged BB's lower half in the water before she could express herself again.