April 23, 2016

Dear Baby,

Happy Passover. It’s your first foray into the bread-less land of Jewish holidays and I’m pretty pumped to have you at the Seder table (or sleeping in your bucket close by). 

Here’s the thing about the Seder. I love it and I hate it all at once. I love the family gathering, the songs, the food (because why not start every meal with a hard boiled egg in salt water- amiright???). On the flip side, I don’t know if I love the overall messaging or the forced religiousness that I am made to feel. 

Like any religious holiday I am conflicted. 

And more conflicting than ever is how I am going to raise you. What values am I going to bestow upon you and which ones am I going to ignore. How religious should our home be? How much fact vs. fiction am I willing for you to believe and how do you teach someone so small about the difference between tradition, religious, science and fantasy?

When we found out that we were having you, your dad and I had the enviable discussion of “how to raise you” but the answer of “Jewish” seemed enough at the time. Now, we get closer to addressing what that means- how Jewish? What does that even mean to us? How do we feel about religion? 

And herein lies the conflict. Without divulging my preferences and opinions, it is suffice to say that I appreciate tradition without subscribing to all the elements of religion. What does that mean for you?

I hope whatever we do, at this point you feel like you have ample education about religion in general to make your own choices and form your own opinions because no matter what, that is the most important end result.

So Baby, know this: when it comes to the bigger things in life, there is no right answer. Your dad and I will do our best to give you everything you need to form an opinion by we will probably fuck something up along the way. There are no right answers. If there were, we’d all have them. Don’t be afraid to ask a lot of questions and feel conflicting feelings about the deeper questions. That’s all normal. 

And know that ultimately, we love you no matter what you want to be. 

In the meantime, the sacramental wine really helps to keep your focus on the less important questions, like how much kugel is TOO MUCH KUGEL??

#notmadaboutit

xo

Mom 

April 21, 2016

Dear Baby,

OMG. This week was home- purging bliss. One of my best friends is pregnant and needs gear and another has asked for her gear back and with that in a foul swoop (or three), I was able to get rid of bags of shit. It feels great. 

Passing your baby gear to another mama has a much different feeling than packing up your too-small baby gear. There is less nostalgia and more excitement about the new life that the stuff is getting because, let’s be for real- someone had to get use out of those once worn floral overalls and if it’s not you, Baby- let it be your friend to be. 

I packed up clothes that we are finished with, carriers that no longer carry you, diapers that you grew out of and toys that no longer get played with. I packed maternity tops that thankfully are too big on me now and a giant box of adult diapers for the more glamorous parts of the post pardem experience. 

It was great.

When I had you I had a few friends who generously packaged me up boxes of stuff to use and it is the fucking best. Who on earth wants to spend the money on crap that you outgrow in 5 seconds anyways. 

I am so happy to return the kind favour.

And here’s the lesson we can glean from this: always pass a good thing along. When a stranger smiles at you (in a friendly and totally non creepy way),  smile at someone else and pass on the happiness. When someone is there for you in a hard time, be their rock when they need you in kind and when a friend gives you a sweet ass tie dye dress for a baby that is so killer, make sure you pass on some awesome clothes to another. 

Karma is real so be kind and you will get kindness in return. Be generous and you will see generosity and be good- just because your mama raised you that way. I should know. 

In the meantime, your closets have never looked so good and empty. Bye bye bags of crap! Enjoy your new life. 

xo

Mom

April 17, 2016

Dear Baby,

Here’s something no one EVER tells you about having a baby: you will have to make time to take solo bathroom trips. I’m talking number 2 here, Baby. You either suck it up (literally), spend your poo with a baby on your lap and fucking Macgyver a way to wipe or you wait and pray that you will be afforded time before it’s too late.

This morning as I was preparing you for your morning nap, I had to go.

Wait, sidebar. Just want to acknowledge how embarrassing it is to talk about poo. As if I am the only human on the planet that needed to make one this morning. Somehow it makes me feel less feminine and more disgusting all at once. I wish we had a bit more leniency about these topics. Ok. Done.

Anywho, putting you down for a nap. I zip up your cozy little sleep sack, put in soothing classical music and cuddle you. You start to cry (why!!!??? You are living the fucking dream, Baby) and I HAVE to go.

I put you down in your crib with babysitter mobile on and do my thang. My great fortune this morning was that you fell asleep immediately (hurray for jet lag) and it was an easy situation.

In past times, you have wailed when left for the few minutes I needed. Then I stress that I am just going ahead and ruining you forever because I left you for 2 minutes to whine vs crapping in my pants. This is mom guilt to the extreme. Guilty for having to go to the bathroom.

I have always thought it was super gross to hear my parents talk about their bowel movements so I won’t carry on here. You’re welcome.

The lesson is priorities. Know your priorities and don’t feel bad about them. For example, keeping you happy and putting you down for a nap in a very calm and gentle way is my priority. Not pooing in my pants is a bigger one.

In life there will always be a million things pulling you in a million ways. You have to take a mental stock of what you need and get shit done. If you can prioritize your tasks you will always be better at things like time management and organization. This will serve you well.

And, be selfish. Put yourself first and do it with pride. There is no shame in taking care of your needs whether they be some time alone to regroup or an audience free bathroom escapade. By taking care of yourself, you will be your best to then take care of the people around you that you love.

In the meantime, going to get as much done in my “nap hour” as humanly possible. Mom super powers are a real thing, Baby.

xo

Mom

April 13, 2016

Dear Baby,

We are here in Israel for a wedding so Tuesday night we had a wedding rehersal dinner. I was anxious about going in the first place because I don’t love taking you out past bedtime to a place that is an hour away by car in a country I don’t know but nonetheless, we went. 

We arrived in the pouring rain to find the party was outside in a tent and we would either have to have you in the tent with us where it was loud and smoky or in the house next door where we would not be able to see or hear you. 

I wish I was one of those cool moms who would be all like, I’m so down to just leave my baby in a house alone and not worry but I am a fucking nervous wreck and ate all my nail polish off my fingers while stressing about the decision. 

And of course, my stress became your stress and you were restless and crying for much of the evening. Your dad and I rotated coming in to sooth you before begging to go home. A shame because I love a good party and if I wasn’t about to loose my mind, I’m sure it would have been one. 

And in the end you of course came home, went back to sleep and slept the night away so my stress was for nothing because you couldn’t have cared less that you were out and probably had no idea. 

It was a good reminder to check myself and my unnecessary stress at the door. 

The other thing about that night that really helped me to check myself was the other baby at the party. The family whose home it was had a little 10 month old baby and yes, it was their own home so naturally there was a comfort level there but also their baby stayed up pretty late and they didn’t spend every 5 seconds going in to check on her once they out her down. 

And interesting that they didn’t check on her because you should have seen where this baby slept. I honestly thought they were kidding when they showed us her crib. It was a white crib just like your but lined with plush bumpers (pretty sure those are “illegal” here), a blanket, a DUVET should the blanket not suffice in keeping baby warm in a country where a cool night is 15 degrees. They also had a pillow and a few stuffed animals. 

Aside from the crib that would have given our baby CPR instructor a fucking heart attack, there was no sound machine, no humidifier and no Baby Einstein mobile. 

HOW DID THIS BABY SEEM SO NORMAL AND HAPPY????

I’m kidding. The obvious answer is that we really spend way too much time stressing about you. Heaven forbid we don’t pack your fucking sound machine on our trip and we feel like we will have ruined your whole life. These people are 10 seconds from smothering their kid in a blanket and they give zero fucks. Go figure. 

And that brings me to this. Baby, don’t sweat the small stuff. In your life there will be a million stupid things to stress about. Try not to. 

Things that may seem super important are often not when you just put them in perspective and it’s good to take a deep breath here and there and remind yourself that whatever is going on, it’s not the end of the world. Unless it is literally the end of the world in which case your stress is warranted. 

In the meantime, got to get you to bed so we can have one solid night before the wedding. Your dad and I will be on the balcony getting wine drunk (and watching the monitor, obviously). 

xo

Mom

April 12,2016

Dear Baby,
5 days into our trip and I can safely say that traveling with you is a real treat. After landing and orienting in Tel Aviv, Israel we began to explore. By explore, I mean eat a lot of hummus. Spoiler alert: hummus really fucks up your mom’s stomach. True story. 
Here was a good lesson that we learned:
We had arranged to leave Tel Aviv and drive 1.5 hours away to Ein Gedi for a night and then another 1.5 hours the next day to the Ramon Crater for a night. So in a past life before you, this would have been a pretty rad plan. We would have arrived at our destinations with hours to spend and an evening open to explore. 
In our wonderful life with you, we arrived, you napped, woke up, we did some stuff for a couple of hours and then you went to bed which meant we were in the room (on the patio) for the rest of the night which really meant that we went to bed super early and woke up to pack up and leave. Mini trips are just less of a fun quick thing and more of an ordeal with a babe. 
This is not to say we didn’t have fun, just to say that next time we travel we plan to spend at least 2-3 days per place so that we can enjoy more of it together before we pack up and go.
Another lesson we learned:
Staying in SUPER SEXY hotels are super unsexy with a baby. So the hotel at the Ramon Crater was the second sexiest hotel I have ever been to in life (the first being a cliff side mother fucking villa palace with a private pool in Thailand on our honeymoon). The rooms were swank, there were bonfires blazing at dusk and unreal views overlooking the crater itself. The restaurant was dark and well furnished and the lobby was fucking gorgeous. 
In our former life we would have enjoyed the romance of it all. People walked around all day in robes. I love that. I would have done that for sure. 
In this life I took advantage of zero sexiness and spent majority of our visit trying to hide you from the sun. 
Finally we learned that travelling with you is actually the best. Have I mentioned that already?
So, to summarize. If you have a baby; take longer “mini trips” and don’t expect super sexy time. If you don’t have a baby; take tons of mini trips and see all the things and take advantage of those ridiculous hotel rain showers and private infinity pool balconies. Like I even have to tell you to do that. 
In the meantime, going to unpack those hotel slippers and shampoo we stole.
xo
Mom

April 8, 2016

Dear Baby,

We did it. I am writing this blog post from Tel Aviv, Israel. We arrived somewhat put together and mostly normal. 

I’ll be honest. I was WAY too cavalier about the flight. I was all like, not a problem. Baby will sleep in the awesome bassinet that Air Canada provides up with and I will have a deep restful sleep too with baby at my side. 

Wrong diggity wrong. 

If you are ever considering flying on a ten hour plus flight internationally, know this; it sucks. 

To start, you just didn’t want to sleep. Overstimulation is a real thing and not many things are as over stimulating as a day at the airport. 

The “bassinet” was horrendous. I use the word in quotation marks because it was honestly more of a leather restraining device than a bassinet. It was basically a thick leather pod that you would technically lay in (not moving because the was both no room to roll and if you did roll you would end up face first on elephant grey leather sides- gross). The craziest part was the “seatbelt” a word I again use in quotes because it was a full mesh flap that covered your entire leather pod and then got strapped down. 

Um. No thanks. Don’t think I am fucking strapping my baby into a tiny leather case with a mesh panel on her face. I’ll endure a full flight with you on me. Thanks. 

So that’s what happened. You slept on me for a bit. You slept on your dad for a bit. The entire religious population of our aircraft saw my nipples and of a usual 12 hour sleep, you got about 6. 

Your dad got 10 minutes and I got 30. 

Baby, in high school and university I’m sure you will pull your fair share of all nighters. I know I did. You will stay up all night and the next day will function just a fraction below normal. Your skin will be light and clear and your eyes bright with just a hint of tired. 

In your 30’s and beyond you will want to fucking die. It’s almost 8pm here now and if I am up another 30 minutes it would be a miracle. 

The thing about being older and being a parent is that it’s not like you can take time out and refresh. We arrived, got to our hotel and went straight to work unpacking you, getting your shit organized, getting you down for a nap, showering and then we blinked and it was night. 

So here’s what I can think to share with a mind foggy with the memories (nightmares) of my journey. Get one of those super lame neck pillows. I feel like that was the missing link to sleep on the plane. Nerdy? Yes. Practical? I think so. 

Alternatively, be very very rich and exclusively fly first class. 

No but seriously, don’t let this shit deter you from chasing your travelling dreams. One fucked up day is a small price to pay for getting to have such a great adventure together. 

In the meantime….zzzzzzzzz

xo

Mom

April 7, 2016

Dear Baby,

By the time you are reading this, 34 might not seem old or it might seem SO FUCKING OLD YOU COULD JUST TOTALLY BARF RAINBOWS. Is it weird to say that I never imagined myself being 30+?

Not like I didn’t think I would make it here but more that who fantasizes about being young enough to know how much stuff you are now not able to do because you are damn old? 

Nope. 

So here I am at 34, happier than I have ever been in my entire life and yet permanently tired with a backache. 

I thought I would take this day to reflect on some lessons I have learned this past year. 

Lesson 1. Patience is really a virtue. 

Waited and waited and waited to get pregnant and this past year was when it finally happened. That pee stick test was the best use of urine I have ever known. Patience paid off in a sweet tiny little girl who I love so much it feels like I might explode. 

Lesson 2. Take care of your shit. 

Seriously, take care of your shit. All your shit. Take care of your body, take care of your mind. Take care of your clothes and your shoes, take care of your home. Take care of the people you love and take care of your pets. Take care of your finances and take care of stuff you need to do. Not only is it gratifying and good but it saves you the huge fucking hassle of making up for a lack of care (see posts on backaches and drivers license renewal for reference).

Lesson 3. Take time to make time. 

I don’t know what this means really but I think taking time to do what you want and what you love will make you a happier person. 

Lesson 4. People can be the worst.

Actually. The. Worst. In no particular order I refer to; competitive moms, people who never smile, people who smile too much and people who tell lies. But there will be a whole slew of people who you will be annoyed with. They don’t matter. 

Lesson 5. People can be the best.

In no particular order; old friends made new again, new friends, old friends that never change, kind strangers and pleasant sales people. Thanks. You rock. 

Lesson 6. Life is sweeter with the ones you love. 

Being 34 would be wholly unbearable if not for you and your dad. There is no one way to have a family so any way you can, do. Family is the best thing on earth and starting your own, whatever that means, is better. 

So as I try to embrace 34, try to embrace your aging. Wrinkles and saggy ass skin are a small price to pay for 34 amazing years.

In the meantime, I’ll be slathering on the wrinkle cream. Kidding. It’s coconut oil. 

xo

Mom

April 6, 2016

Dear Baby,

You know how sometimes you procrastinate something and then get SO PISSED that you did when it comes to crunch time and you have to get it done. Like you get mad at the thing you have to do instead of at yourself for not just doing it earlier. 

Well, today I am really fucking pissed at the idea of having to go out and renew my license and health card before my birthday (and our vacation) tomorrow. 

Sure, I got the notice in the mail 2 months ago but I was sure that I meant it when I said “I’ll get it done.” 

Wrong. 

Didn’t do it. Totally forgot it. 

Enter today where we are experiencing our second spring time snow storm. THE LAST THING ON FUCKIN EARTH THAT I WANT TO DO IS GO OUT LET ALONE GO OUT TO A SERVICE ONTARIO WITH YOU. 

Can you even imagine anything more hideous? I don’t know what government buildings will look like in the future but as of now they are where happiness goes to die. Dramatic? Maybe but the dusty grey- blue carpet and matching walls adorned with prints that display hot air balloons and trite messages back up that statement one hundo percent. 

The interior coupled with the fact that everyone at a Service Ontario location seems to be grumpy and has made the decision to not wear deodorant (ever), make it the worst. 

The fact that the last time we had to go to a government office there were 4 people with SARS masks on and another 4 who didn’t wear a mask and yet coughed violently into the air is the cherry on that sad sad sundae.

Why can’t you just do this shit online????

Here’s the point. Don’t procrastinate annoying shit. Just get it over with. Rip off the bandaid, so to speak. 

Heed my advice or be doomed to pack up a sleepy baby in a fucking spring time snow storm at lunch time and line up with the B.O. squad of your local service center and face the wrath of renewing your damn documents. 

In the meantime, UG. Just ug. 

xo

Mom

April 5, 2016

Dear Baby,

We are now 2 days away from a big vacation and I am extremely nervous and excited to be getting the fuck out of dodge. Um, snow in April? No thanks. Off to the beach we go.

Last time we went away it was off to sunny Florida for fresh citrus fruit and massive malls. This time we are heading out a bit further to the Middle East for a wedding. The plane ride is more than double in length, the time zone is totally opposite and even the electrical outlets need a little adaptor to make them work for our plugs. 

Scary? Sure. Exciting? Yes. But if I thought that packing you up for a cottage was a shit show, this is just next level. 

Aside from an embarrassing amount of rompers (ah!! Rompers. They are so damn cute!!!) and dresses and short outfits I need to think about crap like your sound machine, diapers, monitors and food. There are emergency things, medical things, bathing things, things that you can lay on, things to keep you out of the sun, things to keep you busy, comfy, asleep.
You name it, it’s fitting in my suitcase. 

The real kicker is that we had originally decided not to go on this trip. With such a huge travel time and time change we felt nervous about bringing you and overwhelmed by what we would need. I don’t really know how we decided to just do it but we did and now here we are about to have the trip of a lifetime and memories that you won’t really remember but that I will forever. I promise to tell you all about it. 

Here’s what I want to share with you today: never be scared to go see the world. Your dad and I will always make travel a huge priority for our family and we hope that nothing ever hinders you from experiencing everything you want. 

You can always find a million reasons to stay home or take the easy way out and while there’s nothing wrong with an all-inclusive style beach vacation, I hope you aspire to see and do more than lay on a beach and drink margaritas (because trust, you can find a great cocktail anywhere you go). 

In the meantime, I’m going to order 4 million more last minute things on Amazon. Thank god for Prime. (Ps. Invest in Amazon Prime. It will save your ass). 

xo

Mom

April 3, 2016

Dear Baby,

Ok Baby, can we just discuss briefly that I am not ok with you growing up. I mean, I’m ok with it but also I want you to be the way you are always. It’s the best. I say that every month. 

Anywho, this weekend we had your first friend’s birthday party to celebrate him being 1. 1. That is just far too old for you. Thank god I have another 5.5 months that is sure to just disappear in two seconds when I next blink. 

A year ago and more, baby birthday parties were what you would invite your dad and I to if you wanted to torture us. Fact. Parties for babies are not fun at all unless you have a baby. Less so when you are unsuccessfully trying to have a baby and just downright terrifying when you are finally pregnant. 

There should be a rule about inviting people without kids to a kid party. Don’t do it. Sure, we would have been bummed at the idea of being excluded but saved from the reality of 2 hours of kid- hell. 

But now is now and we have you and birthday parties are more fun with you there to enjoy them. Gone are the days of sidling into the crowd at the far back and awkwardly lingering while some music person sings ABC. For this round of the alphabet, we were front and center. 

The screaming kids running/ crawling/ sitting around are your peers and any random adult conversation that you would rather not have can easily circumvented by “having to do something” with the baby. Bye Felica. Goodbye awkward encounters. Hello cake. 

What was once my terror is now my ultimate joy. I had raspberry smushed on my pants, a voice hoarse from screaming over the sounds of drums and “All About that Base,” and a heart full of love for you and your tiny little friends. 

Instead of leaving and crying on the car ride home, your dad and I recounted how fucking cute the party was and how much we loved every second of it.

Enough that we are not even sorry to have another one today. 

So here’s the thing: if you hate something a lot and feel like it sucks so bad, try it again in another context and you may find that you feel totally differently. I would have NEVER expected to just kvell over a baby party. Never. Ever. And yet, here I am looking forward to the many more to come. Context. Changes everything. 

Oh, and please don’t force your friends without kids to do kid shit. It’s not nice and you should not have to know the words to fucking Music with Nancy until it is your time. 

In the meantime, everybody clap your hands???

xo

Mom