Thank You

This started as a comment response to my 99 Problems post but became so long that I had to turn it into a blog entry. :)

I wanted to say thank you so much to everyone who commented. I received a great amount of advice and support, that made me laugh and cry. It astonishes me whenever someone takes the time to click on 'Comment' and write to me. Honestly. I'm so happy that you found my small little space in this crazy thing that we call the Internet. I'm really, really lucky.

Writing this post and reading the comments has become therapy for me. The first step in a lot of steps that I needed to make. I'm not sure if I'm the only one to do this but I have seen myself completely ignore the situation - because talking about it, and writing about it on this blog would make it that much more real. It would be something that I wouldn't be able to ignore. It would be concrete. I know that once I do that it, I won't be able to go back to what it was.

So I didn't. And for a long time that was working for me. It's sort of like getting a bill in the mail. And if you wait a day or two before opening it, you can - just maybe - pretend it doesn't exist.

But I've left with this HUGE elephant in the room. It's ridiculous actually.

I'm not sure if much is going to change here. I will still share the crazy things that I am thinking and feeling while I watch my adorable bab girl grow. But I know how that this space can be an outlet for more of the things that I am feeling. No one's perfect. Neither are we.

Thanks again,
humps.... but you can call me Jenine

99 problems but the baby ain't one

I have heeded the warnings. Do not drive while drunk. And even more, do not blog while pissed off. "What you say on the Internet will always come back to you," they say.

Honey girl, let me tell you.

If you've read a few posts from this blog you may have picked out a subtle but distinct element - a missing character. I don't talk about my daughter's father online and that's deliberate. There are many reasons for that. For one he's not really an "internet person" who doesn't understand blogging. We have what I like to describe as a strained relationship (ok it's worse than that) and he isn't apart of Baby's life right now. And the trials and tribulations that we go through are much easier to put behind me when they're not documented here.

I have been thinking a lot about all of this in the past couple of weeks. About what I'm going through "on that front" and the blog. And that's why I decided to write this post now. Because I'm torn.

I love this blog because what it has become. I started writing when I found out that I was having a baby. It was an outlet for me - even before a lot of my friends and family got the news - and allowed me to talk about my thoughts and feelings, joys and pains. And then people started reading it. I got to know some other moms that I have learned so much from. Now that I had my baby girl, I get to share more of the thoughts and feelings, joys and pains as a new mom. I get to document the little things along the way as she grows up. I would hate to poison that with all of the OTHER craziness. I don't want this space to be a rant. While looking back at what I have shared on this blog, I don't want to be reminded of those negative things that I am trying to forget about in my Real Life.

On the other hand, I want to be honest. I want to write like no one's reading. I don't want to hide behind a veneer of a perfect life. That has never been me and I don't want that to be the story that I tell. This isn't Sunny-Side-Up. This is just the part of my life that I actually want to talk about. I want to tell you that I have the best baby in the world, who when she wakes up doesn't cry. Instead, is so happy to see me that she gives me a big smile and waves her arms and legs. She is starting to laugh. I love watching her play and the special way that she examines her toys before putting them in her mouth. That's what I want to look back at.

But that's not everything. I am so sad for her. It makes me upset that we didn't have our shit together before she came into this world. Although her dad's an ass, I feel guilty. I want to protect her from that. I want her have the perfect life that she deserves. I have relationship issues, family issues, financial issues, work issues. But I have the best little girl ever. I don't know how that happened.

So there it is. My problems...

~ humps

Me the Medic

Last night I had an amazing amount of mommy guilt. I also had mommy fear, mommy angst, mommy distress. I think I gave my baby girl a cold and I was paying the emotional price for it.

You see, last week I thought I picked up something. It could have been from the library, the playgroup that I went to, or the doctor's office. I'm leaning towards the later for reasons that I don't really have to explain to you. The next day I had an itchy throat which is always the first sign for me that a cold is a-brewing. I started operation Contain The Cold. It involved lots of oranges, limes with honey, ginger tea. I washed my hands even more frequently than I usually do. And as hard as it is, I tried to stay a safe distance away from "Baby". But there's only so much a mom can do when she's home with the baby all day, breastfeeds, and has a strong addiction to cuddling with adorable 3 month olds. I guess it was bound to happen.

The cold went through me in a few days. And then I heard it coming from her crib one morning this week - you would miss it if you weren't watching your sleeping baby like a crazy mother. It was there. Unmistakable. Her cough. She woke up with stuffed nose. But she had a big smile on her face.

It's hard for me to really say that she had a cold. Although she was coughing a little and had a stuffy nose, she was her usual happy self. She didn't seem to be sleeping any more than usual. She was breastfeeding just fine. It is obvious that I was way more occupied with it than she was. She didn't seem notice.

Last night my obsession reached a whole new level, admittedly. While baby was sleeping in her crib, as peaceful as can be, I heard that her nose was very stuffed. I was terrified. Terrified that somehow her nose would get so stuffed up that she won't be able to breathe. I couldn't go to sleep with her like that!! I stood there and watched her. I paced. I got all of the appropriate baby books off of the shelf and started to read them in the bathroom. (Well I couldn't wake everyone up with the lights!) I took her out of the crib and held her in the living room. I got out the first aid kit. At around 3:30 am started to read the instructions for the nasal aspirator. And then I went to it! Tried to relieve my poor baby girl of her congestion.

She woke up. Her eyes said it all. Why are you sticking this thing up my nose.

The nasal aspirator didn't really do much - mainly because there wasn't much to suction. Since I had the first aid kit out I took her temperature. She was fine. I was the one that was crazy. I nursed her and she went back to sleep.

I stayed up. Researching colds in babies, and listening to my sleeping baby breathe. Today she was perfectly fine. The nose has cleared up and she's coughed only a couple of times. It looks like the worst is behind us. Thank goodness it wasn't a full blown cold. Maybe tonight I'll get some rest. Or maybe I'll stay up just to be safe.... :)

~ humps

Caribana 2009

I went to the Caribana parade last weekend with my cousin from Florida. "Baby" stayed at home - the first time she was without mommy for more than a few minutes - while I went gallivanting downtown. But I couldn't resist dressing her up in this outfit that my mother bought in Jamaica. You gotta represent!!

Simple Times

When I was a kid I would spend most of my summers in Florida. My parents would ship me off to the extended family - grand aunts and uncles, cousins and family friends. My grandmother had a ton of younger brothers and sisters, and their kids were around my age. Going to Florida in the summer was sort of like going to Summer Camp or the cottage.

I had and still have much more family in Florida than anywhere else.

There were a handful of cousins that I was particularly close with. When I went back home to Toronto we kept in touch, in anticipation for when I would return.

Keeping in touch back then was different than keeping in touch is now. If you recall, 15-20 years ago there was no text messaging, or Twitter. We weren't on Facebook or Hotmail.

Keeping in touch meant that we would actually write letters to each other. I would receive a package in the mail from Florida that would have letters from my closest cousins (each with a unique take on what was happening in their lives and often expertly decorated), and accompanying the letter would be pictures, postcards, other memorabilia. Once I even received a cassette tape (remember thoses?) that had meaningful songs. Their voice chimed with a greeting in when I popped the tape into my stereo.

My responses always took much longer. I wrote individual letters to each person - looking for a new way to rehash my stories. Reminiscing about the "inside jokes" that we had. If you were boy crazy I would talk about my latest crush at school, if you were into music I would tell about the concerts coming up in Toronto. I would try to put a lot into my responses.

But like everything, time changes things. Growing up, moving on. So much has happened to all of us since those days. Graduations, weddings, careers, children. I went to Florida to be a Bridesmaid in one of my cousins weddings not to long ago, and now she has two children. I have a little one myself.

We do try to keep in touch - emailing, texting, long distance phone calls - when we find the time. I don't get to visit everyone in Florida as often as I'd like to.

This weekend, one of my favorite cousins is coming up to visit. This is the first time that she is meeting the baby. (I can't begin to tell you how excited she was for us when I broke the news that I was expecting.)

So although I won't be able to go to Florida this summer, like I used to, I'll have a little bit of Florida up here with me.

~ humps

In the Kitchen

I used to love cooking. Sometimes it would start off as a recipe, other times a dish was inspired by an ingredient. What I loved most was cooking for others - having someone pleasantly surprised by my food. I love cooking mainly because I love entertaining. Putting together a great meal, and delicious desert, a signature drink - maybe some great wine - was part of that experience. I used to love cooking.

Do you notice that I speak of that in the past tense? That was me BEFORE I had a baby. Now there are no quaint dinner parties. No intriguing conversation over a glass, or two, of Merlot. Hell it's 5:00 pm and I'm still in my pajamas. I am online instead of doing the laundry that is piling up in my living room. If anyone wanted to come over now I would freak the hell out.

I don't cook anymore. I hardly spend anytime in the kitchen. I go to the kitchen to get something from the fridge - hopefully something that I can eat with one hand while nursing "Baby", or playing with her, or rocking her to sleep. If I could eat said item while changing a diaper that would be great too.

In my world for the past three months since "Baby" has been in our lives, I have reinvented what cooking means to me - boiling. Since I never really know if the little one is napping for more than a few minutes, I never really know if I will have to abort the cooking process. I don't invest time in getting that cooking thing started. If it can't be boiled then it's not for me.

But this week I decided that I needed to get back in the kitchen. Maybe experiment with something one step up from boiling. Tonight I am making vegetable LASAGNA. Yes boiling is involved which is great. There also chopping, the lasagna assembly, and the baking. But since I can start and stop those things at a moment's notice, I'm ok with this. You would be impressed.

However, like all new mommies, I ain't no fool. I no I am not. I made so much Lasagna that I'm freezing a whole pan of it. We will have so much Lasagna in this place that I won't have to cook for weeks. Why? Because I USED to love cooking.

~ humps

Censorship

It's been a while since I blogged. In addition to having a mountain of internet issues, I also came down with a tooth infection that had me cowling in bed for a while. My addiction to Orajel wasn't pretty.

But now I'm back on solid foods and back to the blog.

I've had this story to share for a while now that I've been dying to get out. A few weeks ago I was at a cousin's barbecue. Like most family gatherings there was no shortage of young kids running around and getting into trouble.

At one point in the day, I was upstairs in a bedroom changing and nursing "Baby" while the little kids in the house were in the hallway playing. It was easy for them to forget that I was there as they busied themselves with their games.

I was - for the most part - minding my business, when one of the kids started to sing songs. Not lullabies or nursery rhymes but radio hits. Think top ten on BET. It was innocent enough at first I guess. I thought about those YouTube videos that you would see of little kids dancing to music videos, or something. Until....

Until a little one - maybe around five years old - starting singing a new song call "Birthday Sex"!! And all the little kids joined in.

I was holding my two month old baby while a chorus of kindergartners where singing BIRTHDAY SEX, BIRTHDAY SEX in stereo outside of the room! My heart stopped beating, my body was convulsing and I think I threw up in my mouth a little. Then I froze.

After my life flashed before my eyes for a moment, I gathered myself and Baby and stormed out of the room - trying my best to be an intimidating parent. (I had no idea what to do.) They ran.

That was the exact moment that I decided that there would be full censorship in my own for "Baby". Poor girl. No radio. No MTV, VH1, BET, MuchMusic. No chance that I will catch her 5 year old self singing the next version of BIRTHDAY SEX, BIRTHDAY SEX while shaking her little booty. I don't care if she doesn't understand. That can't be good?! Can it?!!!

Call me Castro but our house is not a democracy. It is a full dictatorship and I'm in charge. You don't get a vote, little one. What I says goes. Period. End of story. At least while you're under my roof.

It all started when you were two months old.

XOXO humps

On The Move!

XOXOX humps

Desperate

I'm online!! My prayers have been answered. If you were to see me now, you would know how desperate I am.

I am able to connect to the internet through a wired connection to my modem. (For some reason my wireless router isn't really working out.) The wire is MAYBE two feet. I'm sprawled out on the carpet of my living room, manuals and laptop "stuff" EVERYWHERE. Baby is sleeping in her Quinny Bassinet. I am in stained track pants. I really should be taking a shower on not on the floor trying to get online. You would shake your head at me right now.

I'm really hoping to at the very least get through some emails!

Thank you Jesus. Internet.

~ humps

When the Internet fails you...

My Internet is down, and hence the lack of activity on this blog. For some reason I just can't get online! So here am I on my mother's computer trying to get caught up on over a week's worth of emails, blog reading and writing, and the rest of the frivolous things that I do online that now are SO DAMN IMPORTANT. And just so happened that the week my computer decided to flake out Michael Jackson died! There's so much that I want to say, I'll have to save it for another post at another time.

I couldn't come back to this blog without talking about how much I missed it. Can someone tell me how I / we / everyone has become so addicted to the Internet? When there's a black out you break out some candles and have a lazy day. When your computer doesn't connect there's a whole new physical reaction. It's easier for me to deal with a blackout than no Internet! Even with a two month old baby keeping me busy - and happy - I would walk by my laptop, with dark screen, and feel loss. I yearned for the Internet.

And here was my week...

Tuesday "Denial" - I rebooted my computer all day on Tuesday hoping that somehow, the little connectors inside would fix themselves, remembering how much fun I had online just the day before. How could this be?!?!?!

Wednesday "Physical and Emotional Pain" - Maybe I did have a computer problem. I ached and ached for my computer. For my email accounts. For Twitter. For Blogger. For iGoogle. For Facebook. The pain.

Thursday "Adjust to Living Without" - I decided to pick myself up. There are people all over the world that don't have the Internet. I can do this!!

Friday "Allow Yourself to Move On" - I only rebooted my computer twice on Friday - you know, just in case. I continued to learn to move on. I actually used the Yellow Pages - the real offline version - for the first time in years.

Saturday "Start Living Again" - I completely computer-free day. And it felt great.


Being computer-less for the week has not COMPLETELY sucked. Well it did but I dealt with it in my own unique way. :)

More from the mind of "humps" soon.

XOXOX

The Lost Post

Yesterday, I felt inspired. I took some time out while reading my emails on someone else's computer to write a blog post. It was written in a word program so that I wouldn't use up much more of the already slow internet connection.

I wandered away from the computer to check on Baby, when the thing decided to restart itself. With no auto save, my blog post was gone. Lost. Forever.

I assure you that it was a great post. Reflective and honest. Full of wit. I spoke of my past and looked ahead at my future. You would have loved that post. And I know that if I try to rewrite it, it just won't be the same.

So instead I would like to dedicate this space to all the lost blog posts, short stories, reports, speeches, anything written anywhere that due to technical malfunctions were lost. Those written masterpieces that left us before their time. Before they were able to be truly loved, honored and appreciated. Please feel free to comment about your experiences as well. That way they may live on.

In mourning,
~ humps

Wrapped Around Her Finger

I have a new baby. She's just over 6 weeks. She's adorable.

She has me wrapped around her little finger. She is playing me real good.

She is a good baby who cries when she's wet or hungry but really doesn't cry that much. She sleeps well. When she's awake is so bright and alert. She smiles and laughs. Moves her head from side to side. She swats at things and grabs hold. On her stomach she pushes up with her arms and kicks her legs like she can't wait to be mobile. My six week old thinks she should crawl. Now.

During the daytime I sing her songs. Some of them are children's songs that I remember from my youth albeit with a few made up lyrics, others are originals written just for her. To be honest, most of the songs I sing are Christmas carols, because I know much more of them than children's songs. (Hey, I'm new at this whole mom thing).

When we are not singing, reading stories, playing, nursing, Baby puts her head into my chest and falls asleep.

But as I said earlier she has me wrapped around her little finger. She is playing me real good.

You see this child of mine has decided that she doesn't like typical sleeping arrangements. If I put her down in her crib or bassinet she is awake in minutes. So I pick her up, hold her against my chest and rock her to sleep. I try again. In five minutes I am picking her up, holding her against my chest and rocking her sleep.

She has me wrapped around her little finger. She is playing me real good.

So we sit in the comfy chair that I have in the living room of our condo and I come up with a plan. Not the plan that I should be coming up with as a parent to correct this behaviour. Oh no. I plan what I will during the five minutes that she's asleep in her crib. I prioritize those things like getting something from the fridge and going to the washroom. I plan a route throughout the condo to maximize the time.

And when she cries I always pick her up, hold her against my chest and rock her to sleep. She has me wrapped around her little finger.