To the kale washers

I hate washing kale. I like eating kale, cooking kale, and even picking kale. But I hate washing it.

When I’m rested and happy, I manage to push past my distaste for the task. I even find the energy to de-stem it, carefully cut it into bite sized pieces and make salad dressing.

When I’m tired and cranky, the kale slowly yellows in the fridge until I guiltily throw it into the compost. As I toss it, I think about the hungry people in this world, the money I just wasted, as well as the resources it took to grow and ship the kale to Elmvale.

Here’s the thing about being a new parent; you’re always tired. Always. Why? Because :

  • Labour itself is a sleepless two-day marathon.
  • Babies don’t come with an instruction manual, so they cry — a lot.
  • They need to be fed every two to three hours, day and night.
  • Newborns are preceded by months of sleep deprivation (imagine snoozing with a bowling ball on your bladder).
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Me and the babe. I’m happy but can you see the bags under my eyes?

I love my little dude – so, so, so deeply. With a love intense enough to frighten me sometimes. But all that wakefulness is starting to take its toll on my body.

So the short version of the story is : I haven’t been washing much kale lately.

Luckily my enormous, beautiful, supportive network of friends and family has once again jumped in to save me from a BBQ-chip-based diet. They’ve cooked, cleaned, driven, dog-walked, babysat, grocery-shopped, and gardened for us. Many travelled long distances — through cottage country traffic — to visit.

As I watched my little sister scrub kale in my kitchen sink the other day, I thought about the wealth of love underpinning my whole life. Kale may be an odd topic for an initial postpartum post, but I can’t think of a better way to describe how special our baby’s “village” is

I want each benefactor (a.k.a. kale washer) to know: it mattered. Every kind action was noticed and appreciated. Thank you. xo

Third trimester musings

With five weeks until Lumpy’s due date, I can feel my whole focus shifting. Between my pea-sized bladder, sore hips, and overactive mind, sleep is beginning to elude me.

Here I am today – 35.5 weeks pregnant and feeling quite whale-like

The little energy I have, I direct to working, eating and preparing for Lumpy’s arrival. My relationships, Twitter feed and housework are suffering a bit.

A month ago, I was tweeting regularly, but living on the edge of nesting panic. Our bathroom was in shambles and Lumpy’s room was still filled with construction debris. But with a giant boost from family and a week off work, we managed to :

  • Finish the bathroom
  • Finish the nursery
  • Pack for the hospital
  • Take a hospital tour and drop off our forms
  • Meet with our lovely doula and doctor
  • Attend an ultrasound
  • Install the carseat
  • Finish our birth plan
  • And more!

Bathroom, before and after

Lumpy’s room, before and after

Since that busy week, our dear friends Mireille and Patrick hosted a beautiful shower so that we could celebrate Lumpy with our Toronto crew. The gifts from that event, combined with those from the lovely local shower my aunts JoAnne (a.k.a. the paint fairy) and Denise hosted in January, mean we have more than we will ever need to care for this little gaffer. He is already so very loved.

JF and the awesome motorcycle Daryl and Kyrsta made us out of baby supplies

We’re not totally ready. I still haven’t bought nursing bras, prepped healthy frozen food, sterilized bottles and breast pumps, or given our house a good scrub down. But the bottom line is, if Lumpy were to pop out of my uterus tomorrow, we’d be alright.

More than alright, really. Because we have the best support network in the whole land. Everyone (parents, aunts, uncles, friends, neighbours) has offered to pitch in and help us when caring for a needy newborn turns us into zombies – or in my case, a pair of zombie boobs.

My favourite corner of the nursery, because it’s filled with gifts from our friends and family – everything from the crib, to the books, to the stuffed animals

Plus I know I have a stellar partner to get me through. JF continues to be amazingly thoughtful and patient through the wild hormone adventure that is pregnancy. I’m grateful for him every day and can’t wait to see him get his dad on.

This man is going to be a great parent – and Odie is going to be a stellar brother!

Given my recent tiredness and upcoming labour, this may be the last post for awhile. Wish us luck! I’ll update you all as often as I can. xo

32 gifts

Early winter kicks me in the shins every year. I can’t help feeling glum as the merriness of Christmas fades and I look ahead to three cold, hard, vacationless months. Plus, I’m pretty sad and anxious for the world right now.

I temporarily banished the doldrums this morning, with what’s become a January tradition: listing some of the highlights of the year gone by — one bullet for every year of my life.

In 2016 I…

A view from the side of the road in Slovenia

A view from the side of the road in Slovenia

  • Performed in a band
  • Skated the ice trail at Arrowhead Provincial Park
  • Celebrated my amazing grandfather, Dinis Rebelo
  • Had pancakes at the Wye Marsh Sweetwater Harvest Festival
  • Replaced the ugly mudroom ceiling with handsome beadboard
  • Hugged Odie on his one-year anniversary with us
  • Had my first Thai massage
  • Travelled to the top of 30 Rock to watch the sunset
  • Checked out a California beach
Violet, Joël and Avery at Ocean Beach in San Diego, CA

Violet, Joël and Avery at Ocean Beach in San Diego, CA

  • Learned to throw an axe
  • Got awesome false eyelashes
  • Bought my first king-sized bed
  • Came second in the five family nerd tournament
  • Joined Weight Watchers and lost 15 pounds
  • Attended my 10th Festival du Loup
  • Hosted an epic garage sale on my birthday
  • Started the world’s longest bathroom renovation
  • Went to the ballet
  • Spent time with my avo
Hanging with avo usually looks like this - except add food

Hanging with avo usually looks like this – except add food

  • Attended my first night time santa claus parade
  • Danced with mom, Yève and Elise on international women’s day
  • Got to level 23 in Pokémon Go
  • Powered through a few injuries and illnesses (concussion, poison ivy, an epic battle with a nettle tree)
  • Partied with the Lefaives at JoAnne and Dan’s 40th anniversary party
  • Bought a new mommy mobile – Linda the Forester
  • Greeted many friends’ adorable new babies
  • Drank margaritas the size of my head in Mexico
Some of the gang that travelled to Mexico with us. So cool!

Some of the gang that travelled to Mexico with us. So cool!

  • Started focusing on our little family — quitting several volunteer roles
  • Helped good friends move into their first home

Somehow I forgot to post my list from 2015, but here are those from 2014 and 2013.

As usual, counting my blessings makes me feel a heck of a lot better. 2016 may have been a shit year for the human race, but it was a great one for me. Thanks to everyone who played a part.

xo

Lumpdate : Week 22

Pregnant woman standing bike with sunset in background

The belly in San Diego – Joël and I went to visit Violet last week

I’m barfing a lot less

It’s almost Christmas – my favourite time of year – and I’m feeling more hopeful, more pregnant and (finally) less barfy. I’m down from two hurling sessions a day to your basic weekly morning vomit. Winning!

Lumpy is growing

At 22 weeks in the womb, Lumpy is about the size of a coconut and growing well (code for: none of my pants fit). We found out he’s a little boy. Judging by his movements in my belly, he is also a future jiu jitsu master.

JF is rocking the dad-to-be thing

JF continues to be marvellously supportive and lovely. I still find mornings hard, so he walks Odie, clears the driveway, and brushes off my car while I barely scrape together the energy to eat a bagel and make him coffee. He only grumbles a tiny bit on very cold mornings.

We can’t pick a name

We want a perfectly bilingual name (français/anglais) we both love. Our faith in that name’s existence wanes with every passing week. Partly because cousins and friends already named their baby boys all the cool names – curse you all! Just kidding, we love you. Mostly.

We’re feeling more ready

Between us, we’ve read 10 baby books, downloaded 10 baby apps and joined a dozen online groups. I’m in prenatal yoga. We see our doctor regularly. We’ve sketched out a birth plan. We’re doing two prep courses this winter, plus a tour of the birthing unit at RVH.

Stack of baby books on a bed

Some of the books on our nightstands right now

Except the nursery

There’s a toilet in the middle of Lumpy’s room. Also some tools, wood debris, and cement board – the bits and pieces that come with a bathroom reno. We’re making slow and steady progress, thanks to a kind local contractor. But our house is 113 years old, so the finish line is still several weeks away and I’m not picking out paint colours just yet.

Friends, family and colleagues have been awesome

We’re feeling very supported lately. Amazing people are organizing two baby showers. My superwoman boss has been extra flexible with my prenatal appointments. Mom friends are offering used gear and freaking hilarious advice (shout out to Eliana). Even Odie – he’s family too! – has been extra snuggly lately.

A man holding a giant black dog

JF, practising his baby holding with Odie

Christmas is almost here!

And then there’s Christmas! We’ve got a happy little tree, some cedar boughs on the porch, and a whole weekend of cookie baking with family ahead of us. This season always make me happy, but we’re both pretty excited about Noël 2017 – with the Lumpster.

christmas tree, decorated

Our tree this year – fa la la la la!

Ring the bells that still can ring

Sometimes, I think that having a child is the ultimate selfish act. Lumpy (the squirmy artichoke-sized human in my belly) didn’t ask to be conceived. I wanted to create him or her.

In my darker moments, I worry that I am casting Lumpy into an angry, dying world. Governments are moving too slowly to rescue the earth from climate change. People seem selfish – consuming more than ever before. Fake online communities are replacing real ones. The news is filled with hate, fuelled by inequality.

My mother tried to make me a good citizen of the planet. I imagine myself teaching Lumpy to volunteer, make sustainable choices, be kind to all humans, and fight for positive change.

I cling to the hope that the next few generations will be better stewards of the earth – that they will bridge false barriers like religion, nationality, gender and race to move forward together. Maybe Lumpy will be the one to end humanity’s reliance on fossil fuels. Who knows?

I always try to choose optimism, but it can be an uphill battle.

I’ve been listening to a lot of Leonard Cohen lately, because I think he really saw people and relationships as they are – imperfect, but somehow beautiful. For my sanity, and for Lumpy’s wellbeing, I will try to focus on that beauty.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in

And then there were four: Barfy, Worry, Smelly and Lumpy

Our little family of three is about to grow. We’re pregnant! In fact, today is the 100th day of our pregnancy – our pregniversary.

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Meet Lumpy. I think he or she looks like a misshapen peanut.

Here are our pregnancy adventure nicknames:

  • Barfy: I throw up at least once a day. It sucks.
  • Worry: JF is already in full research mode. His latest obsession is evidence-based parenting.
  • Smelly: I have been super sensitive to Odie’s stink lately – especially when he’s wet.
  • Lumpy: Our nickname for the little goober.

Together, we’re the four gestational dwarves. We’re a team! Slowly chugging toward our April delivery date.

Three of the four gestational dwarves. Missing from the image: Lumpy.

Three of the four gestational dwarves. Missing from the image: Lumpy.

And I mean slowly. The last three months haven’t exactly been a magical journey. In addition to the regular vomiting, I’m exhausted, sore, bloated and gassy – plus a few more things no one wants to hear about. Let’s just say I am not glowing.

My daily vitamins. I have to carefully time them to avoid puking.

My daily vitamins. I have to carefully time them to avoid puking.

But somehow, between naps and visits to the toilet, I’m still excited. I keep a journal. I have colours picked out for the nursery. And I can’t wait for itty bitty socks and baby smell.

Under his mountain of daddy books and stroller spreadsheets, I know JF is excited too. In fact, he’s been a total rock star. He now shoulders all the Odie walking and groceries, plus the occasional meal prep. Today, he even cleaned my car. His grumble-free dedication to Lumpy and I makes me love him even more. I am so lucky.

Me on a rare dog walk. JF has been doing all the Odie-minding lately.

Me on a rare dog walk. JF has been doing all the Odie-minding lately.

As we begin our second trimester, there’s a lot to do and a lot to worry about. But there’s also so much to be grateful for. I like to think all four gestational dwarves are looking ahead to a (hopefully retch-free) future – a new, exhilarating and mildly terrifying chapter in our lives.

p.s. Ignore the sad last verse of this song!

The great bathroom caper

Thanks to a much-needed influx of funds from the wedding (thanks guys!) we are finally able to renovate our upstairs bathroom.

That little patch of linoleum hell has been on our list for three long years. Only two of the lightbulbs in the main fixture worked. The tub had a ring of rust, calcium and mysterious red mould even hours of CLR couldn’t beat. The artfully swirled ceiling has an enormous crack running through it. I could go on.

I’m delighted to report that we’ve almost finished the demo. Just like the rest of the house the previous owners left the bones in good shape – an excellent base to build dreams on.

Next step? Putting in a wooden frame for a bigger, better drop-in tub. Sometimes I fall asleep with visions of hexagonal tiles, brass fixtures, beadboard, and antique wall sconces dancing in my head. Far better than sugarplums, if you ask me.