Separation Anxiety

As I write this, I’m sitting in my hotel room in one of the most beautiful and scenic places I’ve ever been, Lake Louise in Alberta. Surrounded by the beautiful Rocky Mountains, fresh clean air and yes, I’m gloriously alone. You would think that this mother of a vivacious two-year-old boy would welcome the time away from home, the opportunity to sleep through the night uninterrupted and to have some precious alone time in a beautiful location (albeit while travelling for business). But all I feel is a little pang of sadness in my chest. I miss my son.

I’m not worried about him and I’m not stressed about how my husband is managing at home.  Of course all that is totally fine. When my husband has travelled on business, I was just fine too. Considering that I don’t get a moment alone at home, that I can’t even go to the bathroom without an audience, you would think that I would relish this time away.

But I miss my son’s laugh, his hugs and kisses, his funny little sayings and actions. I am seeing other toddlers with their parents and the things they are saying and doing remind me of my little guy. Although I have loved my son since the day he was born, I sometimes feel like I love him a little more every day. Except during those moments where he makes me want to scream and put him into a straight-jacket or cover his mouth with duct tape. Which happens pretty often. But the rest of the time, as he grows from the baby that he was into a little person, he makes me laugh and it fills my chest with sparkling champagne bubbles of joy.  

My husband and I decided to organize a last-minute weekend getaway to New York City next weekend and some people have asked us if we are leaving our son at home (not alone, obviously!) But we are not ready to go away without him. Yes, he drives us crazy sometimes, and let’s face it, a six-hour car ride with a two-year old does not promise to be much fun. But we don’t want a getaway from him; we want a getaway with him.  We spend enough time apart during the week when we are a

t work and he’s at daycare.

The hardest part of this week’s travel away from home was being on a four and a half hour flight and not being able to communicate with my husband or talk to my son. As the plane landed, I was like a junkie who needed a fix as I dialled home. Just in time, too, as my little guy was just about to go to bed.

While I’ve left him overnight, I don’t think I’ve ever been further away alone than a two-hour drive from home since he was born, so I guess this is a milestone I have to get through. But when I get home Sunday morning, you can bet that I will be happy to see that little guy again!

In praise of good daddies

Source: google.com via Jennifer on Pinterest

Since this is a “mommy blog” and I happen to have a husband who likes to keep our personal lives private (oops, sorry for violating that one), I usually reserve this space for chronicling my own journey through motherhood. But there is nothing that I go through as a mother that I go through alone. I am fortunate to be supported by my amazing husband who is truly an equal partner in parenting. So I feel like every now and then, he needs a public shout-out to thank and recognize him for being a great husband and father.

I’ve come to realize that every now and then, something happens that changes the way you do things as a parent. Whether it is intentional or not, from one day to the next, things are just different. For example, your child discovers something new and becomes hooked on that so you start using it as a bargaining tool (ahem, Elmo). Or one day they decide that brushing their teeth is no longer something they want to do. Or maybe they want to brush their teeth all the time. Or maybe it’s the point where you have to start smothering all their food in cheese. Regardless, there are these bizarre pivotal parenting moments, sometimes big, sometimes small. But usually they become a game changer in your daily routine.

Last week, I went away on my first overnight business trip since returning to work from maternity leave. It was the first time my husband was responsible and alone in caring for our son for more than 8 hours. He had to do the daycare pickup and drop-off, bath, dinner, bedtime, breakfast, etc… by himself. Of course I had full confidence in his abilities and no issues leaving him alone. As expected, everything went very well and they both had a great two days together.

What I didn’t expect was that when I returned from this trip, I would no longer be capable of putting my son to bed.

As my loyal readers know, bedtime has never been easy with my son. We’ve always followed the whole bath-books-lullabies routine, but I’ve always had to rock him to sleep, usually to the point of being comatose, before I could put him down in his crib. Anything else usually resulted in whining and tears while he reached out to me with puppy dog eyes. Lately, my husband has been challenging the routine because my son is simply getting too big to be rocked to sleep, and it’s time for him to learn to fall asleep on his own. I know plenty of people are probably rolling their eyes, thinking that it should have been that way from the start, but trust me when I tell you I’ve tried it all and had resigned myself to the fact that I would be rocking him to sleep forever.

Suddenly, however, Daddy seems to have the magic touch. He simply reads my son his stories, turns out the lights, puts him down in the crib and walks away. And there is never a peep of protest from my son, who promptly conks out in his bed.

When I learned this was finally working, I was so excited. Surely if my husband could do this, so could I!

Wrong.

I tried. I really did. But when I came back from that business trip, I could not for the life of me, successfully put my kid to bed. Even when I resorted back to trying to rock him to sleep, it didn’t work. As tired as he was, he would just fight sleep, bounce back up and try to manipulate me into keeping him awake. One night, after an hour of attempting to get him to sleep, I left him in tears in his crib, fighting my own tears of frustration. My husband heard the tears and went to see my son. Within less than a minute, he re-emerged from the bedroom where my son was now quietly putting himself to sleep. WTF!?

At that moment, we agreed that for now, bedtime would no longer be a shared responsibility. This is now my husband’s territory. But I live in fear and frustration of the next time that he won’t be home and I’ll have to do this myself. How long will it take and at what cost? Oh well, time will tell. Anyway, in the meantime, I will simply try to enjoy having this responsibility removed from my plate and let my husband enjoy his newfound power.

Even before becoming the bedtime baby whisperer, my husband has always been a great dad. I have to give credit where credit is due. He loves spending time with our son and they have a blast playing together, something I think will only get better as he gets older and they can do even more together. He’s the one who managed to get our son to enjoy bath time. He always works hard to make sure we’re eating delicious food that even a toddler will love. And as a husband, he is supportive of me as a mother and tries to always give me the time that I need for myself.

In other words, he’s a rock. And a star. A rock star dad. So for once, I’m taking a time out to give a shout out to a man who is both a wonderful husband and father. Thank you. Love you.

(He better read this.)

The Journey to DC… (daycare, that is)

It’s official. My son starts daycare next week! Hurray hurray! Not only is he going to daycare, it’s the amazing government subsidized daycare (Centre de la Petite Enfance for my Quebec friends) that is located onsite at my company. I am living the dream. The suburban corporate working mother dream, that is.

For six wonderful months, my amazing mother and my son’s beloved Grandmaman (or “Gaaaaa” as he calls her) has been babysitting my son while I am at work. I am so thankful that she has been able to do this. Not only did this avoid us having to send him to an expensive private daycare but it also built a wonderful bond between my son and his grandparents. She is an extraordinarily patient person who had to draw from reserves of strength and energy that she probably didn’t know existed in order to spend long days with a toddler. But she never once complained and told me often how much she enjoyed it and how much she loves him. Who could ask for anything more? I know that on the days when she had other appointments and I had to work from home to stay with him, I was ready to tear my hair out in frustration, so she is a better woman than I am.

When I got the call from the daycare a few months ago telling me they had a spot for my son in September, I was ready to throw a party to celebrate. In Quebec, there is an excellent program which subsidizes daycares to provide affordable childcare to parents. The problem is that government subsidized daycares are so popular that waiting lists are notoriously long and spots are highly coveted. I put my son on this waiting list when I first learned I was pregnant. They knew about my pregnancy before anyone else! When I wasn’t hearing from any of the dozen or so daycares on whose waiting lists we were registered, panic began to set in. I was starting to look for semi-private or home-based daycares for my son. Fortunately those spots are easier to come by, but I was still holding on to hope that he would get in to this particular daycare.

The day has almost arrived and I am so excited. I know it will be a challenging transition, but I think it will go well. By all accounts, my son is so ready to start interacting with other children and he’s desperately in need of new experiences and stimulation. When we visited the daycare last week, he was so excited it was hard to tear him away when it was time to go home! I’m sure there will be moments where the novelty will be at its peak and others where he will not want to be parted from mommy but when the routine becomes established, it will be good for everyone.

Wish me luck! Read all about it right here next week!

Talk that talk

The words are starting to emerge from my son’s mouth, usually garbled through the ever-present pacifier that he is refusing to relinquish (but that’s a post for another day!) I’m finally starting to feel like my son and I are communicating, sort of. There’s still a lot of whining and pointing when he wants something specific, but now he’s starting to use what sound like real words to communicate.

Like many other children, his first word was Dada (or Daddy, which he uses a lot as well). Naturally, Dada was thrilled with that one, but from what I hear it’s pretty common, because it’s one of the easiest things to say. No offense, Dada!

Next up was “l’eau,” the French word for water. My little guy is growing up trilingual, and spends most of his time with his Grandmaman who speaks to him exclusively in French, so it’s natural that many of the first words are coming out in French. Speaking of his grandmother, he’s now starting to occasionally pop out the odd “G’mama” when he sees her or when our car pulls up to her house.

Source: google.com via Aubrey on Pinterest

He loves The Cat in the Hat and the book “Go Dog Go” where he learned one of his new favourite expressions “Go go go!” And when the Euro soccer tournament was in full swing, he learned to associate kicking a soccer ball with the word “Goal.” In keeping with the evolution of using words that start with a “go” sound, he’s now saying “good,” especially when he likes a particular food.

Most of these words are pretty simple, but he does have a few more sophisticated words in his lexicon as well. Whenever a plane flies overhead (and it happens often since we live somewhat close to the airport) he points to the sky and makes a sound that could be interpreted as “avion” (the French word for airplane). Finally, once or twice he has said the word “dangereux” (French for dangerous) which his grandmother says to him fairly often when he comes close to touching or doing something he shouldn’t. That word required some creative interpretation to understand, but we believe that he was trying to say it.

What amazes me more than the words though is that he understands almost everything we say to him now, and he responds to our questions and instructions like “give me your hand” or “show me your nose”. He also has sounds that he makes for certain things, like “broom broom” for cars, trucks, and basically anything motorized or on wheels. He barks in a high-pitched voice when he sees dogs, and makes a similar sound for birds.

With the newfound ability to communicate comes a newfound level of frustration, though, and for all the fun he’s having learning words, he gets upset sometimes when we don’t understand him. I guess it’s only normal that he has so much he wants to say but his language doesn’t always correspond with ours. Especially when it’s a mash-up of three languages. I’m never sure if the word he’s trying to say is English, French or Greek!

Lately, we have been watching videos that we took over the past year and it is absolutely astounding to see what a difference a year makes. A year ago, my son was a chubby baby who couldn’t even sit up on his own. Today he’s a toddler who runs (a lot), has an almost full set of teeth and babbles incessantly. He loves other children and is always trying to hug them (usually taking them down in the process but that is also a post for another day). He’s truly becoming his own person every day.

I survived our first night apart

It's 8:30 am on a Sunday morning and I'm sitting in my eerily quiet kitchen drinking a still-hot cup of coffee. I'm acutely aware of the emptiness of the high chair next to me and the lack of mushed bananas on the floor. I can actually hear the sound of my husband sleeping down the hall.

Why so quiet, you ask? My son had his first sleepover at grandma's last night while we went to a wedding. And I still haven't called to check in. I want to savor this moment just a little longer. And not seem like an overbearing mother who can't be apart from her child. The latter is by far closer to the truth than the former.

I just know that my poor mom, bless her, had to wrench herself out of bed at 5:30 this morning (at the latest). And I slept blissfully and unawarely through it. But I must say that even thought I woke at 7:30 am after a late night and a few drinks I feel more rested than I have in 17 months. Which goes to show that 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep is more beneficial than 8 hours of broken sleep. Also taking Advil before bed really does prevent hangovers but I digress.

But I really miss that little guy and I especially missed our morning cuddling so I think it's time to wrap up this blog post, wake my hubby up and go get our little monster.

Have a great day friends!

One little monkey getting on my nerves!

At almost 17 months, my son is officially driving me crazy. On one hand, he’s at that fun, amazing stage where he’s learning new things, slowly starting to talk, and performs non-verbal party tricks on command (“show me your belly” “where’s your nose?” “Cut the pickle! Tickle tickle!”) He’s a constant source of amusement and entertainment to those around him and is learning to work a room like a stand-up comedian on amateur night (you can see the spark in his eyes when people laugh at his antics “They’re responding! This works! I’ll do it again!”)

But he just. Never. Stops. This kid could teach the Energizer Bunny a thing or two about going and going and going and going. And he wants to touch EVERYTHING. Especially if it lights up, makes noise, or involves buttons and switches. Unfortunately he can tell the difference between real “grown-up” gadgets like (iPads, blackberries, cameras and stereos) and his many, many toys that do the exact same things without consequences (like long-distance phone calls, erased photos or electrocution).

The thing that really gets me is that while he has demonstrated on numerous occasions that he understands everything we tell him, he pretends not to understand when we tell him “no”. He actually finds it funny to hear us say no, and laughs while he repeats the offending action.

Are all kids like this at this age, or is mine particularly mischievous? This past weekend, he gave me that mischievous smile so many times I actually began to understand why people used to spank their children so often. Fortunately, I can’t bring myself to raise a hand to him.

This weekend, he had an encounter with a Pomeranian. For those of you who don’t know what that is, picture a tiny, fluffy, yappy dog. Smaller than a toddler and light enough to be lifted by its tail with one hand by my son. I know this because it happened. Twice.

Seriously?! Can I just get an effing break?!

The thing is, for all his antics and energy, my son is truly a sweetheart. He is ultra affectionate and very liberal with hugs and kisses. When he sees other children, he runs over and gives them hugs. He scares the bejeesus out of the kids he hugs, but he truly has good intentions. The thing is, he’s big and strong for his age, and sometimes he takes them down with his hugs, but he’s just so happy and excited that his enthusiasm gets the best of him.

I never thought I would have such an exuberant and ebullient yet exasperating child. I’m a pretty calm and patient person, or so my coworkers think, but this kid just tries my patience these days. Keeping up with him is a herculean task.

When I got to work this morning after a (very) long weekend, I was actually happy to be in the office where I could sit in relative quiet and not have to chase anyone or peel a child away from potential electrocution or pissed-off lap dogs. Up until this past weekend, I was really looking forward to my upcoming two-week vacation. Now I’m not so sure…

Somebody please reassure me!

Is this really all we talk about anymore?

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My husband and I are pretty gaga over our 16-month old son. I think that’s pretty obvious to anyone who reads this blog on a regular basis. But we really try hard not to be those overbearing people who will talk about their children non-stop with others, especially at the office. We each have a few colleagues with children the same age as ours that we can secretly engage in toddler chat with, but aside from that we make a concerted effort not to be “those people”.

So when he calls me on his lunch break or while stuck in traffic on the way home, the first thing we start talking about is our son. “How was he today?” “My mom said he napped for an hour and a half this afternoon!” “He really needs a new pair of shoes; we should go pick them up tonight.” “He threw his food all over the floor today at lunch.”

Or better yet, when we’re really feeling mushy, it’s “remember how cute it was when he laughed this morning?” or “He’s so funny when he imitates trucks.”

Last week, as I was finishing some story about how our son had banged on the window and waved at some strangers walking down the street, my husband interrupted me and said “Is this really all we talk about anymore?” I paused, thought for a moment and replied “Yup.”

And it’s true; we really don’t talk about much of anything else anymore. Come to think of it, what did we talk about before he was born? I really don’t remember…

If I think about where we were and what we were talking about a year ago at this time, I very clearly remember being obsessed with my lack of sleep. Since I was on maternity leave and my son was still young and relatively quiet (i.e. not the rambunctious toddler he is today), I would spend hours reading books and blogs about baby sleep habits, baby development milestones, learning about introducing solids, taking pictures of everything and scrutinizing his diapers.

Today, being the busy working mom that I am, when I’m at work, I’m thinking about work. When I’m not at work, I’m mentally running through to-do lists, schedules, and meal plans. But who wants to talk about any of that stuff? It stresses me enough just thinking about it, I don’t need to verbalize it all too.

Plus my son is at a really fun age, where he does funny things, is trying out new skills and slowly working on learning to speak. He can be really frustrating sometimes, but he’s also really amazing to observe as he becomes a little person. He’s not a baby anymore and it’s amazing to watch the transition. Since most days, we’re not home all day with him to enjoy it all it stands to reason that we want to talk about it, right?

Or at least that’s how I justify it to myself…

But just the same, we now try to inject our conversations with at least some non-work-related, non-child-related items. Sometimes it’s just about the weather, but at least we can tell ourselves that we’re not “those people” at home either.

PS – I fully enjoy being one of those people, by the way, so if you’re not annoyed by it, let me know and I’ll keep talking!

Learning to stop and smell the roses…

Summer is here! Hurray! Now that my son is 16 months old, I feel like we can really enjoy being outdoors and enjoying all the fun things that being a parent in the summer has to offer. Last year, he was still young – we couldn’t really enjoy much time outdoors with him without worrying about him being too hot, too exposed to the harsh sun, afraid of bug bites, etc, etc, etc… Now my little toddler is obsessed with being outside, running around our backyard, playing at the park, splashing around his kiddie pool and his all-time favourite, riding his tricycle (well, being pushed around on his tricycle).

All this activity has got me thinking about how we used to spend our summers, BC (before child). I love the grown-up activities associated with summertime like drinking cocktails on a shady terrace, vacationing in more exotic destinations, attending all the amazing summer festivals in Montreal, etc… Problem is… I wasn’t really doing those things! I had grown bored of the usual summer activities. I used to see parents walking to the pool or the park with their kids and I’ll admit that I was kind of jealous of them.

This summer, we feel less pressure to have the kind of summer we used to have – being out all the time, trying to make sure we enjoyed ourselves, trying to take advantage of this short but sweet time of year. Now we’re just doing it, without the pressure – without trying so hard. We’re doing it by sitting in our backyard in our lounge chairs, splashing our feet in our son’s baby pool, watching him run in circles and play with his toys. Taking evening walks in the neighbourhood, going for ice cream, planting flowers in our yard.

Now on Monday mornings, when people ask me how my weekend was, I can honestly say with a smile “It was great.” And when they ask what I did, I can say “Absolutely nothing interesting,” with an even bigger smile. Because this year I have finally learned to stop and smell the roses. And I love the way these roses smell.

Mama's Boy

I don’t want to brag but my 15-month-old son is pretty darned smart. Every day, he astounds me with some new knowledge, skill or connection that he has mastered. He can give kisses on command, which he does in a totally cute way with a loud “aaaahhh-wahhhh!” noise to accompany the kiss. He will shake his finger every time the doctor in the book says “No more monkeys jumping on the bed!” He emulates us cooking by stirring the imaginary contents of his beloved pots and pans with a wooden spoon. He walks and even runs like a champ. Heck, he can (sometimes) dribble a soccer ball. The list goes on and on, but there’s one thing that I must admit to finding rather frustrating. At 15 months, he still does not say “Mama.”

After many hours of painful labour, scores of sleepless nights and two solid months of colic at the beginning of his life, I must say that I thought he’d be slightly more demonstrative of his appreciation for my role as his mother. I mean, really, as fun as his “Dada” is (yes, he says Dada) it’s not like he was breastfeeding his son for almost a year! You would think “Mama” would be the first word he would use.

To be fair, while he is an extensive babbler who can have long, rambling incoherent conversations with himself, he doesn’t really speak at all yet. His only word is Dada, which he uses for pretty much everything. He communicates well through the use of pointing, exclaiming with little noises and of course, whining. But he hasn’t exactly mastered the art of the spoken word yet. I’m being extremely patient on this point, given the fact that he’s growing up with three languages (English, French and Greek) and that I’ve read that boys tend to master speech slightly later than girls. I know he understands everything because he can follow simple instructions. And every so often, he’ll bust out something that sounds an awful lot like a real word but then never says it again.

I’m sure that I can expect him to become a real little chatterbox any day now, and some might even argue that I should enjoy this pre-speech period while it lasts. Because once it starts, it’ll probably never stop (until he becomes a sullen teenager). But is it asking too much for him to just say “Mama”?

What were your children’s first words?

Fitness Funk

Source: fitpregnancy.com via Kiera on Pinterest

Like many women, I’m carrying around a few extra pounds that I gain and lose every few years, depending on what’s going on my life. I’m a classic yo-yo dieter. Just before getting pregnant two years ago, I lost 15 pounds by committing to exercising four times a week and really healthy eating. It was one of the first times in my life that I wasn’t on a “diet” to lose weight but through sheer motivation and willpower, stuck to a healthy way of life and benefitted.

Then I got pregnant and well, turned into a heifer. Fifty-five pounds later, my son was born. Eeesh. The thing is - it was easy to lose the baby weight. Between breastfeeding, not having time to eat, and not sitting at a desk all day for a year, I went right back down to my pre-baby weight and even lower. I was so proud of myself and thought, hey - that was easy! Running around after a baby turned out to be a pretty good way to get back in shape. 

Since returning to work, I’ve spent most of my days sitting down at a computer screen and the rest of the time passed out on my couch in sheer exhaustion. I easily packed back on 20 pounds in the past four months. But until recently, I couldn’t find the time to exercise. Having a toddler pretty much saps your free time. I’m usually up at 6 am, running around until I get to work at 8:30, picking up my son by 5 pm, making dinner, feeding / bathing him, getting him ready for his 7 pm bedtime. After 7, it’s my time to catch up on cleanup, prep for the next day and then hopefully two merciful hours of couch time before bed. So when on earth am I supposed to find time to exercise?

Thank goodness I work for a company that has an amazing setup for work-life balance, including a gym on site and fitness classes at lunchtime. So I've been trying to do the lunch thing. But even then, when work is busy, there’s just not much time.  Pre-baby, I used to be one of those annoying people who would preach that you have to make time to exercise. Post-baby, I’m exasperated and frustrated and feeling like there’s not enough time in the day to take care of myself and get back to a happy weight. I now fully understand mothers who say that 24 hours in a day just isn’t enough.

So moms, I am asking you now – do you find (or “make”) time for exercise? How do you do it? Any tips for a fellow mommy who wants to get back on the fitness train?

PS – I used to be an avid reader of those fitness magazines like Women’s Health that would motivate me to move my behind. Now they just depress me. I will admit, I’m in a fitness funk and I want out!

Working hard...or hardly working?

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It's been a hectic month at work. The kind that keeps me in meetings all day, and when not in meetings I'm scrambling to be productive, meet deadlines, answer e-mails and try hard not to ignore my to-do list. In the old days (pre-baby) I would have just gone into the office earlier or worked later if I needed to catch up. But now that I have a toddler that I only see for about 4 hours on the average weekday, extending my office hours just aren't an option. I know lots of other parents at work who simply leave the office at 5 pm, go home to their kids, feed/bathe/play with/ and put them to bed, then log on to their laptops and work from 9 - 11 pm. I wish I could do that, but quite frankly, most nights my husband and I are both passed out on the couch by 9 pm.

Last week my mother (who babysits my son) had an appointment that required me to stay home with my son and spend the morning working from home. I knew it could either go really well or really badly. I had a few conference calls that I knew I could manage while watching him play and then I figured I could be productive while he napped. On a good day, this is sometimes possible. I've done it and it's worked. But last week, my son had other plans. He was not in the mood to cooperate with my ideas. I guess he was excited to be spending the morning with mommy, so why on earth would he want to nap? So he didn't. And I spent more time that morning trying to make him nap than getting any work done. And the more time I spent trying to get him to nap, the more frustrated I got. My mind was on my inbox and my projects. I was not in the mood to read Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You for the fifth time that morning. He was in the mood to buzz around the kitchen and bang on pots and pans. I snapped at him several times. It wasn't pretty. 

So when I dropped him off at my mother's and finally got back to the office that afternoon, I was actually happy to have a cup of coffee and sit at my desk in (relative) peace. But by the end of the afternoon, I was feeling awfully guilty about the way I'd behaved with my son. Poor kid was just excited to have some extra time with me, and I spent most of it losing my temper. I probably should have just cut my losses and spent my morning with him and one eye on my blackberry.

When I picked him up at the end of the day, I gave him a huge hug and covered his face in kisses. I've said it before and I'll say it again - being a working mom is not easy. Thank goodness my son forgives easily! If I've learned one thing since becoming a mother, it's that everything takes longer when you have a toddler. Working from home is just another one of those things. So am I working hard, or hardly working? Both, I guess!  

Mom Mentors Wanted!

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In my social and family circles, we are in the thick of a baby boom.  I fall into the 30 – 35 age range, and this is prime time for baby-making. Seems like every few months, there’s a baby shower to attend or a new baby to visit. I’m not complaining – I love it! It’s a blast having friends and family with children of the same age group and it has opened up a whole new world of social activities, discussions, issues, etc… I even find that I have more in common with colleagues at work now that I have a child. There’s no ice-breaker like trading war stories from the parenting trenches.

Not only am I surrounded by other young, first or second time parents, but I’ve come to realize there’s another tier of fellow parents in my life… those with children aged between 8 and 18 years. These are the parents who have been there, done that, and have the scars to prove it. They are still busy parents but they’ve survived the sleepless nights, potty training, daycare dramas and living through everything for the first time. Thank goodness for these parents. They’re the ones who give the best advice and support because they’re not so far beyond parenting young children that they’ve forgotten what it’s like. I love my parents and in-laws but 30 years later, they don’t remember much about raising little ones. They’re probably still trying to recover from the trauma of raising teenagers and paying for weddings, but I digress.

The mid-stage parents, as I like to call them, are the ones who can listen, offer encouragement and tell you “don’t worry, it gets easier.” They have assured me that while I may never sleep the way I did before I had children, one day I will regain some independence. One day, I won’t have to do every single thing for my child. One day, I will be able to go to the bathroom in peace, or find time to exercise or maybe even take up a hobby. They’re the ones with the awesome recipes that kids love, or the great family-friendly vacation ideas and the strategies for dealing with public temper tantrums. Best of all, they’re the ones who don’t try to tell you how to be a parent; they just smile and say “just do whatever it takes to stay sane.”

It got me thinking – wouldn’t it great if there was a “Mom Mentoring” program, a buddy system of sorts? That would be awesome. There’s probably some kind of money to be made in that idea but heaven knows I’m in no position to start up a business now. It could be like Big Brothers and Big Sisters, but for grown-ups with babies! There’s no handbook on parenting (just a lot of overpriced volumes that usually provide useless advice) but a Mom Mentor would be a great thing. Then, once you’ve passed into a comfort zone with your children, you could become a Mom Mentor yourself! 

I could name a handful of mothers that I know that are amazing role models and “super-women”… wonder if any one of them wants to be my Mom Mentor?

Have toddler, will travel

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This past weekend, we decided to embark on our first real road trip with our 14-month-old son. We’ve taken very short overnight trips before, but this was our first time spending more than one night away from home. And we figured, if we’re going to do this, let’s do it right. So we took a bite out of the Big Apple and headed down the highway to New York City for the weekend.

I will admit that I was really nervous about this. Travelling with a toddler requires a serious amount of planning, packing and patience. When we visit other cities, my husband and I like to be on the go. We don’t stop to eat; we grab pizza by the slice and say to hell with our diets. We leave our hotel room early and come back late at night. We research and map our itinerary and do as much as we possibly can in the short time we have. This just doesn’t work quite the same way when you have a little person with you. Because that little person has needs!
So here are the pros of travelling with a child under the age of 2:

• If you’re driving there, you can drive at night and they’ll sleep through the trip. That was how we got our trip off to a good start. We were zombies in the morning, but he was fresh as a daisy and that’s what really matters.
• If you’re flying, they don’t pay for a ticket (hurray!)
• You don’t have to stop for repeated bathroom breaks, because diapers are good for a few hours. However, you need to find nice clean bathrooms where you can change diapers easily as needed, but fortunately that didn’t prove to be a problem.
• They still take naps, so if your child is good to nap in their stroller, you get to do your own thing while they snooze. Thank goodness my son naps well on the move. He even slept through Times Square of all places! If your child needs a bed or crib and a quiet room for their naps, I’m afraid this doesn’t help you.
• Many, many people will tell you how adorable your child is, and then will be more likely to hold doors, elevators or move out of the way for you. But that’s not everyone, that’s for sure!
Here are the cons of travelling with a child under the age of 2: 
• The stuff! You can’t travel light – you need to pack diapers, wipes, snacks, sippy cups, blankets, a change of clothes in case of emergencies, three different kinds of hats… the list goes on. We took a bold risk in not packing any kind of toys or books for when we were out, but I knew these would only end up on the dirty NY sidewalk so we didn’t bother.
• Yes, they nap, but before the nap usually comes some whining and if you’re unlucky, a meltdown. Cue frustration and public embarrassment now.
• Grown-up activities like shopping, museums, and eating in nice restaurants are a challenge. I’m not saying you can’t do it, but it’s not easy.
• Feeding them requires serious planning and strategy. Depending on what your child is now eating, you may not be able to feed them restaurant food, so you’ll have to pack meals, snacks, milk, bibs, wipes, spoons, cups, etc, etc, etc… That may have been the most stressful part of our trip for me. Especially when he was refusing to drink his milk and water and I was worrying that he would get dehydrated.
• Being stuck in a stroller for three days was not my son’s idea of a good time. We had to stop often to let him out to walk around and stretch his legs. Then we had to stay on top of him so he wouldn’t touch garbage or eat gravel… which he attempted.
• Travelling with a child who needs diaper changes, naps, meals at specific times and an early bedtime… well, it slows you down. Plain and simple. You just can’t accomplish as much as you would have otherwise.

That being said, it was a great long weekend. It was so nice to spend some quality time together as a family, to get out of town and be in a different place. We all had a great time and this weekend will stay with me as a wonderful memory for a long time to come.  They say a change is as good as a rest, and this weekend’s change of scenery was a great mental rest, even if it was physically exhausting! 

Sleepless….once again

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Being a working mother is hard. It’s draining and exhausting, but not in the physical way that comes with chasing an active toddler around. It’s mentally and emotionally draining. Take the mental exhaustion that comes with working all day and combine it with the emotional frustration of dealing with your child’s separation anxiety when you come home. Add a heaping portion of guilt and there you have it. The story of my life.

We are sleepless in my house once again. After several really good months in which my son was asleep before 7:30 pm and would not wake until the next morning, he has decided that he no longer wants to sleep alone in his crib. I’m attributing it to separation anxiety, but really who knows why he has suddenly changed his tune…

The first few weeks back at work were really not bad. My son would happily wave goodbye to me in the morning as I would leave the house and then proceed to spend the day having fun with his grandmother. Then, exhausted, he would sleep easily at night.

After about three weeks, the novelty of his new schedule wore off. Every so often, I would leave the house to the sight of him holding his arms out to me pleadingly. Once in awhile, he would start crying. A few more weeks and this became almost a daily occurrence. Now for the past week, I can’t put him in his crib at night without tears and tantrums. And the night waking has become a nightly occurrence.

When I was off work on maternity leave, I would stoically let him cry it out, thinking to myself that we could catch up on our sleep during a nap the next day. At least that I didn’t need to use too many brain cells in the morning, so if I was a bit sleep-deprived, it was okay. Now that I need to use my brain at work, I will do anything to get some sleep. This has resulted in him sleeping in our bed almost every night now. Trying to let him cry it out these days has not been successful. After 40 minutes of crying, we usually hit out limit and respond by going to him.

So let’s review the situation to date: mental exhaustion + separation anxiety = no sleep and lots of guilt. Which ultimately results in stress. Lots of stress.

Maybe I’m reading into things a bit too much, but I feel like this change has made my son angry at me. He has really started to cling to my husband more than before. Not that I mind that part, because it makes me happy to see him showing more love toward his father. But it almost feels like my husband is the more stable force in his life. He knows that daddy goes to work in the morning and comes home at night. That’s the way it’s always been and he can rely on that to stay the same. But mommy has changed and is no longer there for him the way she once was.

So in my guilt and desperate need for sleep, I let him sleep in our bed at night, something I’m not crazy about doing. I have nothing against co-sleeping… it’s just not something I want to do because I don’t sleep as well. But when he wakes up in the morning and gives me a big toothy grin, it makes me happy. And these days I cling to those moments because they’re much easier to handle than walking away from outstretched arms and tears.

It’s a vicious cycle and I can’t decide if I need to be firm and proactive about breaking the pattern, or if I should embrace my old mantra of “This too shall pass” and ride out the storm.

Any advice for a mama going through a rough patch? What has worked for you in the past?

Has motherhood become my hobby?



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Before becoming a mother, I have to admit I didn’t have any crazy hobbies or special interests. I liked to read, travel, cook, shop, and socialize with friends and family… nothing especially noteworthy but I was okay with that. Since becoming a mother, my interests haven’t changed much, although I definitely have changed up what I read, cook, shop for, where I travel and who I socialize with. Because let’s face it, everything has become about my son. The word “family” has taken on a new meaning in my life. It no longer only refers to my parents, siblings, in-laws, etc… Now I apply that label to my own house. I never really thought of my husband and I as family, but now that we’re parents, here we are.

A few weeks after my return to work, I had a business lunch with a consultant whose passion in life are her dogs. In fact, she and her husband train their dogs in the sport of agility (Google it – fascinating!). It was the first time I met this consultant face-to-face so there was a lot of personal chit-chat and so when she asked me what my hobbies and interests were, I was suddenly a little speechless. What, after all, have I done in the past year besides raise my son? And I’m not discrediting that because it’s a full-time job and one that has brought me much joy and pleasure (among other things). It just got me thinking… has motherhood become my hobby?

I returned to the office after lunch and looked around at my colleagues… it should be said that I work in an organization of highly motivated and intelligent people so of course, why would their interests and hobbies be anything less than exceptional? Everywhere I turned, I was surrounded by marathon runners, snowboarders, jazz-choir singers, amateur gourmet chefs, semi-professional cupcake bakers… There are people who spend their vacations volunteering in Tanzania and others who rescue dogs from puppy mills. My boss is an amazing photographer whose photos are visual masterpieces. One of my colleagues is a Martha Stewart-esque master of all things domestic goddess related. Not to mention she has excellent taste in shoes.

Suddenly I felt very ordinary and I started questioning what defines me outside of my work and home life. In fact, I even learned that one colleague asked another colleague to describe me and was told that I am very proud of my Greek heritage. Which is very true, but is that who I am? I know that’s not all there is to me. I’m a blogger… I have a book club… I have a secret wish to one day write a novel. But not everyone knows these things about me.

After mulling over this and having a few conversations with other parents, here’s what I discovered. Being a new parent is an all-consuming job but it’s also an amazing phase of life where you are learning new things every day and navigating uncharted territory on a regular basis. For a few years, it’s normal that life is all about being a parent. Sure, it’s important to have hobbies. It’s definitely essential to feel like there’s something in your life that’s just for you. But maybe now is not the time to focus my energies on that. I’m not saying I won’t make any “me” time in my schedule or do anything for my own personal enjoyment. But if my family is my current hobby, I think that’s pretty healthy too. And if being a mother right now is what defines me, then that’s a label I’m very happy to wear.

When I have more than one child and they’re older and no longer physically dependent on me, I will find some crazy hobby that’s just for me. I, too, will be a superstar who runs marathons while baking cupcakes. But for now, I want to spend all my free time with the loves of my life. My husband and son.

Moms, do you have any special interests? Is motherhood your hobby too? What are your thoughts on how you define yourself outside work and home?

Taking the first steps into toddlerhood

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Just days before his first birthday a few weeks ago, my son began taking his first tentative steps. Although I’m proud and excited, I have to admit, it wasn’t the big momentous occasion that I had expected, which once again led me to realize that I watch too many movies. Like most things, he built up to walking very slowly. Two steps one day, then five steps a few days later, and now a few weeks later, he can toddle his way across a room. But now that he’s getting the hang of it, he’s bobbing and weaving around the house on his little unstable feet like the town drunk at 3 am. It’s hilarious and heart-warming all at the same time.

This big “step” led me to realize that, holy smokes, he’s not a baby anymore! He’s officially a toddler! Lord help us all, we have a toddler in the house. It’s not just the walking that has made me realize that he’s crossed over into toddlerhood... there are many other signs that the time has come. Here are a few observations that made me realize that a new era has dawned in my home:

· There are Cheerios everywhere. I’m constantly stepping on them, finding them stuck in my hair, sweeping them out of corners and emptying them out of the dust buster. The little buggers are more insidious than bed bugs! When you think you’ve rounded them all up, more pop up out of nowhere. Makes me wonder how many actually end up in my son’s mouth.

· Temper tantrums have begun. In true mini-drama queen fashion, the littlest things will set off a full-on tantrum, complete with tears and a theatrical scene in which my son throws his head back on to the floor, kicking and screaming.

· On the complete opposite side of the spectrum, he can now perform cute tricks on demand: blowing kisses, giving hugs, clapping his hands, waving bye-bye, hiding his face behind his hands until we say “peek-a-boo.” In an attempt to turn him into the ultimate flirt, I’m trying to teach him to bat his eyelashes. I know, maybe I should start working on teaching him to count or learn the alphabet. Maybe my priorities are a little off...

· Food has become much more interesting and my son always wants to eat what we’re eating and to feed himself (or to feed us). I’m happy to encourage his independence at the table but when he’s watching us eat French fries and refusing his own mushy peas and carrots because he wants a fry, I don’t love it as much.... does this mean we have to start eating mushy peas too? Ugh.

· Similarly, he is very decisive about what he likes and doesn’t like. And when he doesn’t like something, he flings it onto the floor. Which somehow always makes my husband and I launch into a diatribe about how there are starving children in Africa who would be happy to eat this food. As if he understands. And when did we turn into our grandparents? I’m pretty sure the “starving children in Africa” argument pre-dates our own parents.

Do you have a toddler in your house? What are some of the classic toddler behaviours that you’ve seen?

Eight things I learned in one year

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Last week, my son turned one year old. I can’t believe it. The passage of time is so much more striking when you’re watching a child grow. As fully-grown adults, we could go years without really noticing ourselves age. I know I’ve looked at pictures of myself from ten years ago and passively thought “Huh, I looked younger then.”  But babies grow so fast that it’s astonishing how much they change from one month to the next, let alone in a year!

Celebrating my son’s birthday really got me thinking about how much I’ve learned this past year. If there was one year in which I’ve learned a lot, it’s this one! Here’s a very short list of my key learnings in the first year of being a mom:

1.   No matter how many books you read, nothing can truly prepare you for the journey of parenthood. The Baby Whisperer can tell you What to Expect and how to have the Happiest Baby on the Block with the No-Cry Sleep Solution but your baby’s the boss. It is entirely possible that at 3 am, you will be sitting in the dark, mentally composing hate mail to the Baby Whisperer because your baby just doesn’t want to do what she thinks is right.

2.   All babies are different... and yet, they are all the same. File this one under the WTF file. This is the reason that mothers sit around and compare notes on what their babies did that week. This is what sends us into paroxysms of anxiety when our five month-old still hasn’t rolled over but our neighbour’s six month-old is playing pat-a-cake.

3.   Everyone has an opinion about everything. If only I had a dollar for every time someone said “Maybe he’s hungry,” or “He looks ready for a nap,” or my all-time favourite: “If you put him to bed later, maybe he would wake up later/sleep through the night.” But hey, many’s the time I caught myself giving the same kind of advice to others, so as frustrating as it is, I have learned to accept it.

4.   It’s amazing how much time mothers spend thinking about, analyzing, and discussing poop. As one of the only indicators of health in a child who can’t speak, poop is the thing to watch. And sniff. And scrutinize.

5.   The human body has an amazing capacity to function on very little sleep. It doesn’t mean we’ll be nice about it, but we can make it by fairly well on just a few broken hours of shut-eye. But just because we can, doesn’t mean we should!

6.   Anyone who is able to “sleep when the baby sleeps” should be given an award. As the mother of a really lousy sleeper, I barely had time to pee when my baby slept, let alone try to squeeze in a nap. I admire those who are able to do it.

7.   You can really only TRULY appreciate your own mother when you become a mother yourself.  Not only do you gain a newfound respect for everything your mother has done, but grandmothers are an amazing source of help and support. They are a shoulder to cry on when you’ve had a rough day and if you’re lucky, they’ll fold your laundry so you can take a nap. And of course, not many other people will happily spend time sitting and listening to you go on about how amazing your child is. My mother and I shamelessly go on to each other about how wonderful and adorable my son is because, quite frankly, we can. And we know that we can’t do it with anyone else so it’s our own little guilty pleasure.

8.   All things pass in time. Take the most horrible, sleep-deprived, spit-up covered, poop exploding diaper day and file it away in the banks of your memory because those days will be gone before you can say “Pampers.” When you’re cursing your decision to become a parent, and you’re looking up the phone number of the nearest orphanage, just remember that whatever terrible phase you’re going through will pass. You will forget until your children are 30 years old with children of their own. And when they ask you “Was I like this as a baby?” you have two choices. You can rub it in their face that yes, they were indeed terrible children who never let you sleep. Or you can claim selective memory and let the past become a blur while you tell them, “You know, I just don’t remember having any sleepless nights with you.” I know I intend to remind my son of every torturous thing he did to me as a baby.

I could go on and on, but I’ll stop here. The one thing that I can honestly say is that my life feels so much more complete now that my son is in it. I’m also more exhausted than I’ve ever been, with more gray hair and some stretch marks that will never go away. But it’s worth it because there is no feeling in the world like the love you feel for your child. And even though I have no idea what the heck I’m doing, he seems to be growing up just fine! Here’s to another great year filled with more amazing experiences...  

Diary of a working mom

This week, I joined the ranks of millions of working moms. It was so strange to think that when I left work a year ago, I was a different person. Not officially a mother yet, I could take my sweet time arriving at work in the mornings and if I had to work late, I didn't think twice about it. But at least now I no longer have to fight with my enormous belly and pregnant swollen feet to get my winter boots on when I leave the office!

Now that I have a child to care for every morning and come home to every evening, life has really changed. As a colleague said to me this morning "You work two shifts now."

Being a mother who works outside the home requires serious organization and can be exhausting - but those aren't the hardest parts.

For me, starting this new phase in life, the hardest part has been leaving my son for 8 hours a day. I'm not gonna lie, when my mother arrived to start her new job babysitting my son, I was mid-cry. My eyes were red and puffy and my son was looking at me like I was a crazy person. He may be onto something.

Going from spending 24/7 with your child to spending four (awake) hours with them is a big change! I miss the little guy - his chubby hands, mischievous smile and his constant babbling...

Once I arrived at the office, it wasn't so bad. My colleagues made me feel great - it was like being the popular girl in school! Who knew I had so many friends at work?! And I must admit that it was nice to drink a nice hot cup of coffee in the privacy of my cubicle. And have lunch with other adults... And go to the bathroom when I wanted to, without an audience....

A few days in, I think I'm getting my work groove back. The routine is starting to fall into place and things are feeling somewhat normal.

But that doesn't stop from pulling out my blackberry every five minutes to look at a slideshow of pictures of my son. And the odd coworker walking by has occasionally gotten sucked into viewing the aforementioned slideshow. Hey, cut me some slack - I'm new at this!

The end is near...

It's official. Next week, I will be a working mother. After a wonderful year of maternity leave, it's time to put on my big girl pants and go back to work.

People keep asking me how I feel about going back. My answer is always the same: I have mixed feelings. Some days I can't wait, some days I wish I were going to be a stay-at-home mom forever. This year has just flown by and I feel like my baby just wasn't a baby for very long! But deep down, I miss work. See? Mixed feelings!

So in order to help myself through the transition, I've compiled a list of things I will miss and things I won't miss.

I'll miss:

- A free and unlimited supply of baby hugs and kisses throughout the day

- Watching my son grow and thrive all day long, especially when he masters a new skill

- Going to the movies on Wednesday afternoons

- Playdates with other mommies

- Wearing yoga pants every day (see also below: what I won't miss)

- Rachael Ray in the mornings and Ellen in the afternoons

- Taking a more relaxed approach to life and not living according to a tightly organized schedule

- The summer! (seems so long ago now...)

What I won't miss:

- Wearing yoga pants every day

- Sometimes not brushing my teeth or changing out of my pjs before 11 am

- Struggling to get my son to nap

- Being housebound because of the weather (too hot, too cold, too snowy, too icy, too rainy)... Sometimes for days on end!

- Breastfeeding... We had a good long run but I'm glad to have my body back to myself again

I think I will miss a lot of things but the worst part of it all is that I will see my son for so few hours in the day. I may find myself sneaking into his room at night just to watch him sleep!

Oh well, as heartbreaking as it is to leave him behind every day, I must admit I look forward to seeing my colleagues again and getting a real paycheque again will feel good!

In the meantime I am getting my fill of hugs and kisses and I'm enjoying every last minute of this precious time!

See you on the flip side!

I Dream of Daycare

The countdown has begun - I go back to work in less than one month after a year of maternity leave. Gulp.

Naturally I'm a bit nervous about it but I'm also fully ready to start working again. I miss the office, my work, my colleagues ... and my heels! I'm ready to ditch the yoga pants and bad hair. I'm ready to go to the bathroom without an audience. I will miss my life as a stay at home mom, and especially spending my days with my son. He continues to amaze me every day as he grows and changes. But it's okay. I will hopefully do it again in a few years!

What I'm especially happy about is that I don't have to worry about sending my son to daycare...yet. I'm extremely fortunate to have an amazing mother who has graciously agreed to babysit her grandson for a few months until we land a coveted spot in a $7-a-day daycare. So I know that my son will not only be in good hands, but he'll be spending his days with one of his favorite people in the world. Win-win!

That being said, I'm estimating he will likely start going to daycare in September. He'll be around 18 - 19 months old. Which gives us a few months to prepare and make sure he's ready for a successful transition.

I've been concerned about how he'll nap at daycare but after talking to a few people, I've decided to ditch that concern. It will work itself out in time. I no longer want to worry about it.

But now I'm wondering what else we can do to prepare him for daycare. Mastering self-feeding? Learning to play well with other children? I realize he's still young but I'd like for him to start off on the right foot. Or am I the one who will need to prepare myself for this change?

Any tips for me from parents who are daycare veterans out there? I'd also love to hear from people who have worked in daycares.

What do you think? How should we prepare for daycare?