Chinese water torture

In the past few weeks it seems everyone has asked me about going back to work. It's like people have conspired together to constantly remind me of my impending doom. And they all ask "Soooooo...are you excited about coming back to work?" Are you nuts?

Granted, there are a few moms in the "Baby and me" group we occasionally go to who are dying to go back to work. And I honestly thought I would be one of those people.

In the beginning, when Owen was really small, all I wanted was to go back to work. I needed that structure. The sense of accomplishment. But now 8 months later, I dread the thought of going back. Not that I don't love my job or the people I work with. But it dawned on me that I will most likely only see Owen 4 hours a day. For a few days, I actually felt like I was losing Owen. That I had him for a year and that now he was being taken away from me. That is the emotional weight I have placed on all this. I think soon I will love those night feedings. It will add a whole 10 minutes to my time with Owen.

When owen was about a month old, a girlfriend told me about a woman she worked with. It was this woman's first day back from mat. leave. She proclaimed it was the longest she had ever spent apart from her child. I must confess, my girlfriend and I laughed and thought that was ridiculous. And now here I am and a day at work will be my longest away from Owen too. A whole 8 hours. It seems like torture. So I apologize to that unknown woman that I mocked. I hear you sister!

But everyone tells me, women all over the country do it and survive and so will I. Clearly these people haven't seen the pictures on the blog.

Baby contest- VOTE NOW

I need help in selecting a photo to enter Owen in a magazine cover contest. I need a photo were Owen looks cute/beautiful and the photo is in focus!! That last one is the tough bit.

So I need help in selecting one. Please use the comments to vote for your favorite one. Or send me an email! I have to select one by next week so please help!!

Baby tricks

And so we enter that awful world of "What can your baby do" a.k.a "Is your baby as fabulous as mine"? So if you are like me and compare your child to every other one to determine where in the "corporation" your baby lies (basement in the mail room or penthouse with the view), then don't read this as you will only feel better than me and I can't have that.

So Owen does not crawl. (dramatic pause)

He does try and gets frustrated (all good signs). Every attempt ends up in a roll. But at least he still gets around like a steamroller. And crawling isn't a developmental milestone. But everyone asks if he is crawling yet and I feel like I have to justify why he doesn't. "He is too good at rolling"..."I think he will just go straight to walking"..."I never crawled"... So I am here, proclaiming once and for all that no he doesn't crawl and I am becoming ok with that. But there was a time when I worried what the future would hold. How ridiculous am I?? Like crawling or playing with toys properly or waving (no he doesn't do this either) will determine his grade average in high school. So my new mantra is "He won't be doing (fill in missing skill/bad habit) when he is 14 years old so I won't worry about it".

Plus I realise that for everything Owen doesn't do he does a million other amazing wonderful things. Primarily he is such a wonderful baby, I almost don't care that he doesn't scoot around. Every smile outweighs an inch crawled.

So I have made my confession. And as always to redeem myself I supply a photo.

My funny boy

This makes me laugh EVERY TIME as evident in this video. The camera is sideways not for any effect but I just held it the wrong way. But Hopefully this makes you laugh too!

Turn me in

Further proof that I should have my mother license revoked.

1. On a recent trip to Toronto, I was trying to keep Owen entertained in the back of the car. Lately he enjoys holding and looking at anything. Usually I carefully select something without pointy edges, poison or little bitty pieces. So far... I though ah, a CD. Might be fun to look at with that prism effect. So I selected one of the home made ones that contained songs that were mainly Cris', so no loss if it got destroyed with baby drool. Owen was entertained by it for several minutes. Turning it in his hand, flipping it over, putting it in his mouth. I glance out the window and watch the scenery for a few minutes. When I turn back Owen has started sporting a lovely black mustache and a rather black mouth. An interesting look for an eight month old, but not one he should be seen in public with. I can't figure out how he got this new do. And then I realize the permanent marker on the CD ain't so permanent. So the CD no longer says "Cris' music". Now it's just a blur written on Owen's face. Luckily it came off everywhere easily, before the next service station.
   
   
2. I broke several rules with this next one. I make Owen a bottle at night to ensure he gets a good full belly in the hope that someday he will sleep through the night. The day before we went to Toronto on our disaster trip, I put some cereal in his bottle. I know you aren't suppose to do this but I really wanted to see if it would make a difference and help him sleep longer. Well Owen is on barley cereal now, which is thicker than rice cereal. I gave Owen the bottle but I noticed he was really struggling with it. The cereal had completely clogged the nipple. And everytime I cleaned it out and gave the bottle back, it would get clogged again. So I asked Cris to take the bottle and strain it, saving the milk (that formula is expensive I wasn't going to waste a drop). He did this and brought it back to me. He had ingeniously used a splatter guard we have to sift out the cereal. Worked like a charm. All the milk was in the bottle and all the cereal down the drain. Next morning, I run the dishwasher so we don't come home to a smelly load of dishes. As I am unloading the clean dishes, I notice they aren't so clean. Then I notice a huge brown murky pool filling the bottom of the dishwasher. Apparently, none of the water drained. I tried running the short cycle to get the water out. No luck. And now none of the dishes were clean as they had now been washed in this murky water. I realized then that the brown water had the same shade as...Of course barley cereal. We had managed to completely clog the waste line. But of course I had no time to fix it as we were heading off to TO. So the murky water and dirty dishes sat there for a week till I got back. A little industrial strength Draino and we were back in business. I was worried I would have to call a repairman which would have made this a very expensive mistake on my part. And by the way, he didn't sleep through the night.
   
   
3. During our visit to TO (the night Owen got sick actually), I went over to Cris' brother's house for dinner. They have a great apartment with beautiful hard wood floors. We too have hard wood floors and carpet in the basement. One of Owen's favorite things to do is to zip across the carpet floor. I grab his legs while he is lying on his back and pull him quickly to me. Makes him giggle. So far so good. Well, apparently, it doesn't work on hardwood. I thought since they were so nice and shiny, surely he would zip across the floor even faster. Nope. Instead his head bounced up and down as the traction slowed him down. Enough said.
   

Please check your local yellow pages for the number of Children's Aid. Being a bad mother, I don't have it on hand.

Thank god for free healthcare!

Ugghh. Cris and I are finally back from Toronto from what was most likely the worst week of my life. And no it wasn't because if the in-laws. We had events on two weekends in TO so we decided, to save my sanity, I would stay in TO for the week and Cris would take the bus back and forth. I stayed with Cris' aunt and uncle in Mississauga.

On Tuesday Owen developed a fever and I automatically thought of a urinary tract infection. So Tuesday night, at 10:00 p.m., Monica (Cris' cousin's wife) came with Owen and I to the closest hospital emergency dept. We were seen pretty quickly. But it took a really long time to get results from the blood work and the catheter test (sadly I am becoming an expert at diagnosis UTI's, I actually think I know more then some of the nurses, just because of my experience with UTI's!).

So at 4:00 a.m., they told me he had to be admitted. I was not prepared for that. I thought we would just get antibiotics and be on our way. But Owen was refusing to feed and they were worried he would get dehydrated. So to make a long story short, he was in hospital on an IV for 2.5 days. He had an ultrasound that revealed nothing. So we still have to wait to have a test done here in Ottawa on Sept. 1st.

Owen is fine and happy now. But it was a very stressful week for Cris and I. Cris had to leave work unpaid for three days. Who can blame him?! He couldn't concentrate with Owen being so far away and in hospital.

I am just immensenly happy to be home and I think Owen is too. Hopefully we can figure all this out, as to why he is getting the UTI's. I am not set up to handle repeated trips to the emergency department!

All the wonderful things...

I realized lately that this blog has taken a turn away from specifically Owen and focused on the crazy awful world of parents and babies. So I thought I would share a few of my favorite things about Owen. Just to redeem myself as apparent and reaffirm Owen's place as the perfect squirt.

• He loves string and ribbons. He gets so happy to be able to shove those stringing strands in his mouth. It must feel funny because he makes a weird face like he just ate a lemon. And then laughs. I love the simple pleasures. And clearly so does he.
  
  
• Probably his favorite toy is a blinking toothbrush my mom bought at a dollar store for him.
  
  
• He talks to the dog. I am not worth the effort but the dog is. I even feel a bit bad because the dog never says anything back. But Owen has not given up yet. He hangs over the side of his chair and calls to her by grunting and cooing. Then laughs if she turns towards him. Small successes. He will have Lola conversing by time he is 20.
  
  
• He has a Cabbage Patch doll that he just adores. Probably because she has lots of stringing yarn hair he can suck on. But he also slobbers all over her face. Its very romantic. The doll was a gift from my brother and Tara when we were expecting- practice for us. I can't remember what her "given" name was (yes I lost the Cabbage Patches birth certificate). So Owen and I went through a bunch of names (all the names I would have picked if Owen was a girl) and when I said Zoe, his face lite up and he had a big smile! Zoe it is!
  
  
• He loves people especially the ladies. I have been on patios, in bookstores, at bus stops and if there is a woman near by (especially a pretty one with long hair) the cat calls start. He grunts and laughs and says "oo oo oo" until they finally look at him. The he flashes that huge smile to seal the deal. And who can't resist smiling back. And then he smiles again. This goes on for ever till either I have to go (being completely left out of the interaction) or the woman has to move on. Owen is starting to warm up to men. But they definitely don't get the same treatment. Usually just a smile and laugh.
  
  
• When you go into his room in the morning to get him up (which he usually already is but is playing quietly by himself), he gives a big smile and starts flapping his arms and legs. We call it "swimming in bed". It makes the early morning worth it.
  
  
• And by early morning I mean 7:00 or 7:30. Another reason to adore him. Last week he actually slept in till 8:30!! Miracle.
  

And the photo speaks for itself.

Owen and his girlfriend Zoe.

"I command you..."

Crap therapy

So, I was reading online ways to encourage your child to crawl. Owen is 8 months now, and this the average age for crawling to begin. We have rolling down to an art form (to the point where sometimes if I look away for a minute, Owen can end up all the way on the other side of the room, under a table- each heart attack is great fun!). A lot of what they say is to tease your child by placing a toy just out of their reach. Ok, they don't say tease but let's face it, that it is tormenting. I have done this many times (I never said I was above tormenting) but Owen has figured out how to roll to the toy. Its almost like a 3 point turn: he rolls to his tummy, back to his back but on a slight angle and one more time head-on on his tummy and BINGO! Toy with in reach. But I am not sweating it too much. He is showing signs of trying to move forward (literally and figuratively). He is sticking his bum up in the air but accidentally rolls over instead of inching forward.

But the point of this blog is "Crawl Therapy".

On the web site I was checking out for crawling help, someone had posted about crawl therapy. Will wonders never cease. You see some babies crawl, some scoot around on their butt, some roll, and some skip it all together and go to cruising (grabbing on to furniture and making their way around the room by walking). Apparently those that skip it are now being deemed developmentally delayed. They suffer from poor comprehension skills, trouble reading and spelling. They are now being enrolled into crawl therapy to teach them to crawl, even though they already know how to walk. Ok, I thought this was the absolute stupidest example of parenting gone wild. I never crawled. I scooted. So apparently I am not up to par with my peers. I have no problem with crawl therapy if your child isn't doing anything to get mobile. But a child who skips ahead, who decides they don't need to waste their time on their hands and knees...They are supposedly special needs?? Huh?

I just had to share the ridiculous parenting world we live in . And on to the photo of my slow baby.

A few random photos again

TT Mama

So it finally happened. I ventured out into the world and proclaimed myself a trailer trash mom for the day. All I need to do is take up smoking and add three more toddlers under my arm and I am good to go to the trailer park.

Cris and I have been working on the bathroom (hence no new posts). We have tearing apart and fixing, venturing to home depot and planning. I will put up some photos of the before and after- even though it has nothing to do with Owen... Anyhoo...

I had to venture out to Home depot to pick up a few items (we make about 3 trips a day) for the reno. Too lazy to change, I went outside dressed in a paint stained shirt- but not quite stained enough to be obvious, just tacky. A pair of blue shorts that are just a bit too small- I bought them at the Value Village 50% off sale and thought I would easily lose a bit a weight to be able to wear them. Instead, everytime I sit down, the velcro pockets pop open. Really flattering- glad I could share. And to top it off, literally, a red Running room "Canada" hat. No makeup. No hair do. (Although I am a bit better today, on Thursday I ventured out with paint in my hair not realizing it.) Owen comes with me for a little trip. He is dressed to the heights as well. A too big onesie with red popsicle stains, vitamin D stain (that looks like brown slop, maybe like coke) and his diaper hanging out the leg holes. And no shorts. Oh yeah.

So we go through Home depot and after talking to two separate very helpful men, realized we didn't have to buy anything. Triumphant! I don't think that has ever happened. So to celebrate we go to the beer store. This is were it gets good.

I carry Owen in to the Beer store, shabby outfit, dirty baby and immediately grab a 12 pack of beer. In line, I attempt to balance the baby and the beer case. But I end up having to hold Owen across his belly instead of over my hip. Well baby and beer are heavy and I have to hunch over to hold them both. And I realize that to the outside eye, I look like I am so stuck on my case of beer that I refuse to put it down despite squishing my baby's organs. I felt oddly guilty for having a baby in a beer store. I loudly mentioned that the beer was a gift for "your father" so no one would be wondering what mother downs a box of beer with a dirty baby. At least the line was short and fast so I was able to take my baggage out to the car quickly. Thankfully the cashier didn't card me. I noticed a few people watch as I climbed in to my car, checking the car out for car seat and piled garbage in the back seat. At least we don't drive a total sh*t box.
If it weren't illegal, I would have cracked open one of those tasty cold beers and driven us home! But I can only imagine how well that would have gone over. That would have been the icing on my tiara and sash of trailer trash mama.

Dinner with the Dummies

a.k.a. Dinner at our house.

I can only imagine what eating dinner would be like for a stranger in our house.

Owen has recently started eating more solid foods. Well sort of. We started with green beans. These did not go over well. In fact, they went so badly, that Owen stopped eating the cereal, convinced that it must be the same as that horrid green slop (which after a little sampling my self, I couldn't agree more). He even went so far as to refuse anything offered by me. I trashed the green beans and went on to carrots. Convinced these would be tastier I was all excited to have him eat them. Nope. Not having anything offered to him on a spoon by me.

So Cris and I came up with a genius plan to have him eat cereal again, before we tackled carrots (the green beans were frozen for a date way in the future). Owen was still very interested in anything Cris or I ate. So we decided that Cris should pretend to eat the cereal and then offer it to him. So we got out our acting chops and started fake eating everything in very loud voices.

"Oh yum yum yum. Daddy's food sure is delicious!"

"Nummy nummy nummy. Mmmm. Mummy's food is tasty!"

" Numm numm numm. gobble gobble gobble."

"Yum yum yum. Delicioso!!" (Damn that Dora the explorer and her backpack. I can't get that bag's catch phrase out of my head. Even worse it is followed by singing the chorus of "Back pack's" song. If you have ever heard it, your ears will bleed in sympathy).

Owen would watch us very intently. Surely, what we were eating was the best slop ever. So Cris tentatively offered him a spoonful of pureed cardboard (cereal). You would think it was liquid gold! He opened wide and took a nice big spoonful. He smiled and laughed. But refused to swallow. Little victories.

2 loud, long and overboard dinners later, we are back to swallowing cereal and have even taken carrots from Cris! I was beginning to think Owen was going to have pureed cereal at his wedding. We will eat Cheerios yet!

LOVE HIM!!!

Diaper Dooty: the Return

The escapade continues. I was feeling like a blogging failure with no fun stories of poop or pee. Owen hasn't had an accident filled with hilarity and body functions in weeks. Instead I have been forced to write sad stories of hospitals and garage sales. My apologies. We can now safely return to the Diaper Dooty series with smiles on our faces and poop in our diapers!

So I went out for a girl's night the other evening with two girlfriends from work. Did you know I have not been out of the house alone for a social occasion in 7 months!!! Painfully sad. Anyway...So Cris was left home alone to tend to the munchkin (whose most permanent nickname is "Munchie". It's short for Munchkin and it sounds like Monkey, another common nickname for him. I digress again...).

In preparation for me actually exiting the home, wonderful dad that he is, Cris made Owen a nice bowl of cereal (aka pablum, not fruit loops) so he could see how to make it. Ah cereal, that wonderful gloopy crap that taste like cardboard. As far as I am concerned you can't make it wrong as it tastes awful no matter what you do to it. So Cris puts it all together and starts feeding Owen. He then reveals he is not quite sure how much cereal he has put in. Maybe two and half...Maybe three tablespoons. He had used a lot of milk and therefore had to add more cereal to make it not so soupy (can't you just taste it?). I think he probably put in about 4 tablespoons.
Umm, usually I make it with 2 tablespoons.
So Owen got a nice big dose of FIBRE!! What happens to little babies who get too much fibre? No surpisingly it doesn't all come out.
No.
Instead we get this.

This took place all day. The poor kid must have thought he was passing bricks. The amount of noise...And the colours his face went! That's red.
These photos made me laugh so hard! Yes I take great joy in my son's constipation. Hey, lots of comedians have made tons of money on this exact stuff. I am starting Owen off early for that comedy career. And therapy.

Thank heavens for little girls...

Cris nearly shot me for these. And he will probably do so now that I have put them on the web. But come on!! What a cutie!!

The Bizarre world of Playgroup

Playgroup is really a weird and wonderful place. I have been going when I have Liam to help entertain him and keep me sane. The kids are one thing. But I was fascinated with the dynamics and language of the parents. It's like we are talking to our kids, but really parents are sending secret messages to each other.

"Yes, Billy, you like trucks. Anywhere you see a truck you like to play with it!"
Translation: My son is extremely perceptive and bright. He can distinguish any type of truck and is adorable when playing with them.

"Jenny, would you like a snack? I have soy bean rice cakes!!"
Translation: We are organic food eaters and a far better version of a human being then you with your dinosaur jujubes. Shame for the sugar.

"Look Mathias, painting! Remember the paintings we saw in Paris at the Louvre?? You loved the Matisse."
Translation: this one is two fold- first: we are rich and can afford to travel the world with our 5 month old. I am a stay at home mom but eventually I will start my own home based business later to be bought by Disney. You know, in my spare time...
Second: We expose our child to worldly things beyond the McDonald's Play Palace. We go to the ballet and he sits quietly, entranced with the ballerina's and Mozarts rhapsodies. My son eats escargot and blood sausage. He wears little Ugg boots and designer t-shirts.

Then there are those baby signing parents. Don't get me started with them. That's just a big ol' slap in the face with baby Einstein video.

Playgroup is also a constant reminder that I am so out of my league when it comes to activities and crafts... But I guess that is why they are there. To help poor sops like me struggling to open the Elmer's School glue bottle...

A gentle reminder

Owen has taken it upon himself to remind me that my nose is on the slightly larger size. As we all know by now, breastfeeding ain't just for the nutrients anymore! He has now discovered he can shove his fingers up my nose with pin point accuracy. And this is the kid who bops himself in the eye with a toy hammer. But clearly my landing strip size nose is no challenge. So he delights in shoving his little fingers (thankfully only one at a time) up. It doesn't matter how many times I tell him not to... I guess it blocks his view of everything else... sigh.

Of course the sweet revenge is that he doesn't realise how big his nose is going to get!! The evil retribution that is genetics!!


P.S. and yes I still breastfeed. Owen also eats cereal and will start veggies next month. But he will breastfeed till I go back to work. And then he will be down to one feeding a day. That's what works for us and we are sticking to it. And we are quite happy albeit defensive about it.

What the ...

Delinquent blogger

I apologize for the severe lack of updating. It has been a rough couple of days, followed by a weekend in TO, followed by looking after the little two year old guy again. So my time is severely limited!

Hopefully the short version of this all is that Owen got very sick starting two weeks ago. Owen had a fever since Wednesday June 14. It ranged from 100 to 103.4. We ended up taking him to a clinic on Saturday and they said they couldn't diagnosis him because they couldn't see anything wrong although he was clearly very sick. So off to CHEO (local kids hospital) we went (they definitely need a campaign to raise funds for a new emergency department!).

When we got there, his temperature was 104.7 and his pulse was racing at 200 beats per minute (instead of the normal 120). They gave him tylenol rectally (fun for all) and that brought his temp down. But then he went all grey and cold and clammy. We were waiting for him to produce a urine sample which took 3 hours since he wasn't feeding well either. When they saw the bright yellow sample they did a quick dip test and it came back positive for blood, puss... Everything (what else is "everything"? I was afraid to ask). And very positive. So we got moved to the front of the line.

After a catheter test to take a more pure sample of urine (and a nice walk for mom and dad so mom didn't loose it and freak the little guy out), it turns out he had a urinary tract infection. So now he is on antibiotics. The fever finally broke on the Monday and he was back to his old self by Thursday. He still has a few test to go. He will need an ultrasound to make sure his kidneys are ok and then another catheter test to unsure his urinary tract is formed and functioning properly. But we have a few weeks before he has to do that. It was very heart breaking and sad. Everyone always comments on how happy and quiet Owen is. Well when he was sick he was the exact opposite. And although I longed for the old happy Owen, it made me feel awful that he clearly was very uncomfortable and sick. I am just glad it's over.

Then it was off this weekend to TO for Cris' sister's baby shower. Owen got passed around a lot and shown off. He was a little apprehensive of all the people. But he smiled a bit. He loves Cris' mother and thinks she is hilarious. And he was absolutely entranced with Cris' little cousins, Felicia and Alexa. Oh he loves the ladies.

So now we are back home and looking after Liam as a favour for a friend. It is great having Liam here, not only because it keeps us busy. But Owen is also so entertained all day that he sleeps soundly through the night, without fail. When he was sick, Owen was up every 1.5 to 2 hours. Partly because it hurt when he peed. But also because of the fever. He spent most nights in bed with us, which meant we had no sleep. So even this last weekend he was waking up 3 times a night. I couldn't figure out why- maybe habit. Maybe he really was trying to build up his strength by eating. But hopefully now that he has had the taste of sleeping through the night he will go back to do it consistently or at the most up once a night. Anything is better than a week ago!

So there you have it. The last two weeks in a nut shell. Nothing funny or cute. No lovely story. No mommy demerit points (if anything, I think I gained a few back). Just grateful everyone came out ok and happy.



You know your munchkin is better when...

Biker Babe

Cris took Owen to the local Bike show. Owen met the Hell's Angels, Detroit Brothers and other donor-cycle enthusiasts. I went for a walk.

Brand New from Mattel

Funky Owen

Arnie Owen


Dude Owen



Harvard Owen
Uh-Oh Owen