Archives for January 2011

I’m an award-winning blogger

January 29, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

When I started this blog, I knew there was a blogosphere. I knew there were mommy bloggers and that some of those bloggers got awards for their blogs. But I thought they were all big awards. You know, maybe not the Oscars of Blogging but at least the Golden Globes. I didn’t know there were so many different awards – big ones and small ones and poignant ones and funny ones. Some that are given out once a year and some that are given out anytime, to anyone, on a pay-it-forward basis.

Now I know about these, and especially the last, because I got one. Yay!

The super-cute (and Canadian!) Leighann at The Endless Rant of a Multitasking Mumma presented this award to me on the 24th and it seriously made my day.

There are rules for this award, so in the spirit of playing along I’m going to reveal 7 things about myself and then pass the award on to 7 others. (I think sometimes people do 15 & 15 with this award but (a) I don’t know if I know 15 other bloggers yet and (b) I can probably barely think of 7 things about myself never mind 15 and (c) Leighann did 7 so I’m going to take that as permission to do 7 too. So there.)

I don’t understand parsley. Truly. What’s the point?
I can count on much less than one hand the number of cups of coffee I have consumed in my whole entire life.
I have the first three seasons of The Big Bang Theory on my computer and have watched each episode about eleventy-million times.
I’ve done two solo backpacking trips and I think those experiences are a large part of who I am today.
One of those trips involved driving through the Australian outback with truckers. Just me and some truckers I hadn’t met before (but one of them was a friend of a friend, so it was okay).
A lot of people I know think I don’t drink, but I actually just don’t drink much. I have no moral, philosophical or other objection to alcohol. The truth is I just don’t like it much, and as a result I really can’t hold my liquor. Talk about a cheap date. So I don’t really drink when I go out “for drinks” because I usually have my car with me and want to be able to get home. Leaving it somewhere and having to go back and pick it up is way more of a pain to me than it’s worth.
I have a blog related to my work (sort of) but still used to think I wasn’t a blogger. Well I know I’m only about a month into this, but I am. I totally am. I’m loving this. I just had to find my muse, and it turns out mine is about about 3 feet tall.

And now to pay it forward. The Stylish Blogger Award goes to…

James at James & Jax because she seems lovely and is very honest.

Angie at On the rocks and straight up because I just really like her style.

Grace at Arms Wide Open because she’s in my PPD crowd and because she moved to Mexico. I know! Fascinating.

Susanne at Ghostwriter Mummy because though her heartbreak is different than mine, she’s gone through it (twice) and is doing what I’m doing – writing about it and building a community around it. Plus, she seems wicked smart.

Brandon at Brandon the Duncan. Yes, he’s a man. Yes, he will probably accept this award and not freak out because it’s girly. I know that because I found him through The Red Dress Club, a community of writers who are mostly (all?) women and that didn’t faze him one bit.

Sarah at Paul & Sarah because I’ve known Sarah for a long, long time (she’s an “Internet friend” I’ve actually met in person). She’s smart and strong and I love reading about her journey with her long-awaited son.

Carri at Adventures in Mommyhood because she’s just sassy. And if sassy doesn’t warrant an award, I don’t know what does.

Big thanks to Leighann for the award and all those above who inspire me with their words.

Filed Under: Happy things · Tagged With: blogging, spreading the love

All the Way

January 29, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

It’s been a good week. And in honour of that good week, I give you something very, very happy.

This is the first time my little man walked across our living room. His first steps, more or less. He had taken a few here and there and one weekend morning we got up and it was time. I set up the camera, pointed him at it and let him go.

He was walking before I even put him down. Little feet moving, like a duck under the water, figuring out how it works. Going. As soon as he hit the carpet he was off.

Look at his face. He knows what this is about. He going to do it. Is doing it. Is LOVING it.

And he gets all the way.

Filed Under: Motherhood · Tagged With: firsts, moments

Stories

January 28, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

Sometimes you feel like you’re just putting this out there – a big, bleeding part of yourself – without knowing, really, what anyone thinks about it.

Sometimes it feels like you’re the only one. That others are fine. Strong. Just living their lives.

Oh, sure. You know they’re proud of you. They think you’re brave. But they don’t really get it. They don’t have issues. At least that’s the story you tell yourself.

And then you get an email. From someone you know and love and think of as one of the strongest people you’ve met. From someone who appears to just live, and love, and laugh without – once in a while – needing something else stay propped up. An email that says, I struggle too, and because of you and what you’re doing here I am going to ask for help.

Stories.

Whether they’re big or small, whether we keep them to ourselves or tell others, whether we need help and seek it, or don’t, we all have stories.

[Much love and support to my dear friend. You know who you are.]

Filed Under: Uncategorized · Tagged With: spreading the love, we're not alone

Mirror Image

January 27, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

Yesterday. Late evening. After four wake-ups in about a 45-minute period, I give up. Put him into my bed and tell him I’ll be up in a bit. He goes right to sleep.

I finish a bit of work I need to do to get ready for a busy day. When I get into bed, I find he has taken it over: I feel something small on my side of the bed and realize it’s a foot. He’s stretched out diagonally right across the middle of the bed.

He looks so comfortable, but I can’t sleep with my face an inch from my bedside table so I gently reposition him. He wakes up briefly and says, “Hi, Mummy” in the sort of way that I know he’s not really awake and won’t remember this in the morning. He settles down into sleep again.

With more room now, I settle in to my usual going-to-sleep position: half on my side, half on my stomach with one leg bent. I feel my knee bump something warm. I can see the dark shape of his body a little way away so use the light from my BlackBerry to see how he’s lying that I could have bumped into him again.

It’s like looking in a mirror: he’s lying exactly the same way, facing me. Half on his side, half on his stomach, one knee up.

I struggle at times to find how we fit together – mother and child. But in this quiet, dark room I see it. In small, perhaps insignificant ways he’s a reflection of me.

Filed Under: Motherhood · Tagged With: bedtime, moments

Loud

January 26, 2011 by Farewell Stranger ·

He’s screaming in the car seat again. This kid has lungs, there’s no doubt about it. How can a three-month-old scream so loud?? It’s a trigger for me – the screaming, the noise – and I can’t take it any more.

———

It’s been a day much like any other. We went to a play date with my moms’ group (which is less a play date and more a breastfeeding-fest, but whatever. We all need to get out of the house whether it screws with the nap schedule or not).

In my mind, my son is always loud. He’s loud when he wakes up. He’s loud when he wants to eat. He’s loud when he’s fussy for some reason that, try as I might, I cannot identify. In my mind, our play dates involve a bunch of snuggly or sleeping babies (the others) and one fussy one (mine). So we bounce. Or we walk. But usually we bounce. Whatever we do, it generally doesn’t involve me sitting on the couch with a sleeping baby on my lap.

Sanity-saving “play date” over, we went home for a nap. Except my kid doesn’t like to nap. It doesn’t matter if I rock him, nurse him to sleep, swaddle him. It doesn’t matter if I put on white noise, music or nothing. Nothing helps. As soon as his head hits that crib, he screams.

No “me” time, then.

I find a way to eat lunch with a baby who likes to be bounced. Or maybe I don’t – I can’t remember. Some days I’d rather prevent the screaming than eat.

Time ticks on. I’d give anything to be able to put this kid down in another room so I can just be by myself for a few minutes, but he’s having none of it. So we bounce some more.

In the afternoon, it’s time to give the dog his daily exercise. “A ha!” I think. We can go to the dog park and then I can hit Starbucks on the way home. It will be a little treat for me.

But the dog park is a 15-minute drive and and the kid hates the car seat…

I decide I can deal with it. I need to get out of the house (again) so off we go to the dog park.

I manage to get there without going crazy. Manage to get him strapped into the Ergo without dropping him on the concrete. The laps of the dog park in the cool, fall air are good for me, but I’m painfully aware of one overwhelming thought: how badly I wish to be out here without a baby attached to my chest. Not a mom, just a woman with her dog.

The laps are done and the dog is panting. Back to the car we go, with Starbucks only a few blocks away.

Once in the car seat, the screaming begins again.

———

Why? Why does he do this?!

“Connor, what’s wrong, buddy? Mama’s right here. We’re going to go to Starbucks and then go home and we can bounce some more. You just have to hold on a little longer.”

Screaming.

“Connor, please calm down. I’m right here, love. Just hang in there. No more screaming, little one. Shhh.”

I just want a few minutes where I’m not tending to someone else’s needs, even if it’s in the car with a cup of hot chocolate. I can taste it – warm and chocolate-y and mine.

“Connor, please. Be quiet, little one.”

Screaming.

I can’t take it anymore.

“CONNOR! Shut up! Mama wants to go to Starbucks!”

A brief silence. I’ve scared him. And then I know what loud really sounds like.

Starbucks isn’t gonna happen.

Instead we pull into the parking lot of Canadian Tire and I take him out. Bounce him. Try to calm him down without being overly concerned that there are people walking calmly into the store and coming calmly back out with hoses and windshield scrapers and things while my baby screams because he has the worst mother ever.

I just wanted a hot chocolate.

———–

This post is part of Writing Wednesday, which is part of For the Love…of Blogging. Katie and Miranda have asked us to write today, and write well. This is my exploding moment.