More Words!

"Once he starts talking, you'll want him to stop!"  I used to politely chuckle and give a fake smile, when someone would say that. To be honest, inside, I'm always screaming, "No, I won't. I won't want him to stop!"  

I know that they're just trying to make me feel better, but when you have a child with a speech delay, the most magical thing you could hear would be words from your child. Any words. Even sounds that could be the start of something are pretty special.

It really hasn't been that long since he finally started using his first word. "Go." I still love that word. It took him almost two and a half years to start using one word, so those two letters were like magic.

A major breakthrough for C was the use of signs. We introduced a few different signs to help with his frustration, and he formed his own versions of them. The signs he uses most often are more, help, open, and done.

Little C signing his version of, "Help," while on vacation.

Now he is starting to match words or the initial sound in the word with these signs, and is putting signs and words together. For example, he started using his index finger for the number 1 and his sign for more, and then started using the word, "more," instead of the sign. Progress! Since we get so excited and reward any actual word he uses, it pretty much means we always have to read "1 more" book, stay at the playground for "1 more" minute, or give him "1 more" Timbit. I'm not complaining though.

He's been picking up so much lately. In addition to a lot of  new words, he is making a lot of new sounds, can say most of the letters in the alphabet in order and in isolation, and can count to 10. It's been a lot of hard work for him and us, with the support of an awesome Speech-Language Therapist, and we're so proud and excited about his progress.

I love hearing him say anything and everything. Of course, he learned the word no, so in typical 2-year old fashion, "no" is now a constant in our house. When we're out for a walk, he will point out all the "T"s (trucks), point to our house and say "home," and sometimes say "Bu-bye" to anything we pass on our walks. I was pretty excited when he started to sometimes call me "Ma" and my husband "D." He doesn't say his own name, but refers to himself as, "Me" or sometimes "C." Since we call him "C" a lot, I consider it a win. With toilet training this week, we also learned "Uh-oh!"

Little C has made a lot of progress over the past six months, especially the past month, so I can't wait to see (and hear) what's next. I need to focus on the growth he's had, so instead of being annoyed when people say, "Once he starts talking, you'll want him to stop!" I will smile and say, "I can't wait until that day!"

Reflections on a C-Section

I wrote this about two months ago. The end of my maternity leave was in sight, and I was thinking about the past year. It's funny, I always talk to my students about the power of writing. It can help you sort through your thoughts and help you heal. This was written as an attempt to sort through my emotions over having a C-section. I wasn't ready to hit the publish button then, but now I think I am. I also hit publish, because when I was recovering from my C-section, filled with mixed emotions and mummy guilt, I found comfort in some other women's stories of their own emotional recovery from C-sections.

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Having a c-section really threw me for a loop. It was definitely unexpected; it was definitely unwanted, but it's what I got.

 

I had a fairly easy pregnancy.  I wasn't too sick.  I had some summer heat swelling, but overall a nice pregnancy.  I enjoyed being pregnant, knowing this little person was growing inside me, feeling him move around, wondering what he would be like. I was nervous about the actual birth, but was also looking forward to it. I wanted to join the "mommy club" and be able to swap stories of my child's birth with other mums. 

 

I was a week overdue when I finally went into labour.  I had been scheduled for an induction three days later, and I was so excited to go on my own.  I didn't want to force anything.  All day long I timed my contractions, so I would know when it was time to go to the hospital.  After having contractions all night long, my husband stayed home the next day, and we waited... and waited... and waited.  We waited until 1am the next morning.  That was after about 24 hours of contractions.  My husband finally said, "It's time." The timing wasn't quite what they told us at prenatal class, but it was close, and I was tired. 

 

We got to the hospital and everything was looking good. I was being monitored and things were progressing on their own.  I was able to push, and I remember thinking, "This is what it's like!" I was really excited.  Unfortunately, it was slow going. I was so determined, but I could tell that it wasn't going as it should. Eventually, a nurse returned to my room and gently told me that it may be necessary to do a C-section. 

 

My heart immediately sunk.  I didn't want one.  I think I knew that it would be a possibility when things weren't progressing as well as the doctors wanted, and I could hear them checking the monitors and mumbling about how our numbers weren't where they wanted them to be.  The nurse said that it wasn't a "for sure" thing, but she wanted to prepare me for the possibility.   

 

In the end, it was my reality. Once the decision was made, things went very quickly. I didn't really have any concept of time, but before I knew it, we were in an operating room with lots of people in scrubs moving quickly around the room. My little boy was still a bit stubborn and gave us some trouble, flipping and rolling around when he shouldn't, but he arrived safely at 12 noon, on the dot.

 

In the end, I had a very healthy and happy baby boy. Since then, he has grown into this funny, loveable, friendly little boy. I know in my heart that's all that matters. Sadly, on a fairly regular basis, my brain fills me with guilt and sadness over the fact that I had a c-section. Why do I have so much guilt? Why does the thought of it make me so sad, even as I watch my 8 month old walk around my loving room, clinging to furniture and taking breaks to stand on his own? I wish I knew. Thoughts of not being woman enough. Thoughts of not being strong enough. Thoughts of failing. I've never really failed at anything. Why did it have to be the most important thing?

It's been 8 months and I don't think I have mentally recovered from having my baby.  It gets easier all the time, and I hope that someday I will see my C-section as an act of strength and beauty, instead of a weak one. Until then, I'll keep reminding myself that my son is happy and healthy, so I must have done something right.

World Breastfeeding Week - My Experiences and Thoughts

I'm going to get a little personal with this one, folks. It's World Breastfeeding Week.  I think it's wonderful that Breastfeeding moms (and their supporters - dads, kids, friends) get a full week to publicly celebrate breastfeeding. At the same time, I wonder what all the media attention does to mothers that don't (for whatever reason) breastfeed, especially those who would, if they could.

I think a lot about the breast vs. formula debate, so I'm going to attempt to sort out my thoughts here. I'll start with my own experience.

I was able to breastfeed my son for six and a half months. I'm very proud of that, but it wasn't easy, and simply saying that I breastfed for over six months makes it sound like an easy success. You see, after having a C-section, and already feeling like a bit of a mommy failure, I was even more determined to breastfeed. In my mind, I wasn't successful at the birth, so I had to be successful at breastfeeding.

On top of that, I was a long time believer that breastfeeding was the only choice and didn't understand why some mothers wouldn't do it. Looking back, I think I was naïve, because it's really not that simple. Of course, the videos at prenatal classes and the pictures of breastfeeding mothers that frequently get shared online make it seem so easy. Why wouldn't I think that?

To make a long (and quite emotional) story short, after a horrible experience with breastfeeding in the hospital, I ended up needing to supplement with some formula. I was quite sure I wasn't going to be able to breastfeed at all - disappointment doesn't come close to describe how I felt. The day after leaving the hospital, (a five day stay) I visited the hospital lactation consultants and they helped get me back on track - I was able to breastfeed with the aid of a shield. I was so relieved. Something was finally going asplanned. Unfortunately, after numerous attempts in the following weeks, we weren't able to wean my son from the shield. I was told that this is often cause for concern, but for me, it was okay, because he was gaining weight and was healthy, and it didn't cause me any issues. It didn't feel as "natural," but it was what we needed to make it work, and at that point, I was willing to do just about anything. 

Anytime I got discouraged, (and there were many times) I would say to myself, "I just need to make it to 3 months," then "I  just have to make it to 6 months." I will return to work when my son is 10 months old, so I had said from the beginning that I would breastfeed until 6 months so I could take time to slowly wean and make sure that he was happy and comfortable.

At a point between 5 and 6 months, I had to start supplementing with formula. Even that was an emotional decision, because I wanted to be able to do it on my own, but also knew that he was needing something more and wasn't quite ready for solids.

Finally, at almost 7 months, it seemed like the right time for my son to make the full switch to formula. He seemed ready. I felt like I was finally getting the swing of things, but if he was ready, then that was what mattered. Even though it had been difficult most of the time, I was a little sad. Even now, I still miss the closeness sometimes, but when I do, I just gather my son up for a cuddle or we have a snuggly nap, and I know that it's okay. He's fine. Actually, he's more than fine - he's healthy, growing, and very happy.

In the later months of breastfeeding, I was also feeling increased pressure from the media, because at that time, a study had come out about there not being a difference between formula fed babies and breastfed babies. I'm not sure how accurate or how comprehensive the study actually was - all I know is that it added fuel to the mommy wars. Everywhere you turned, there were messages of "Breast is best!" or "Formula feeding is best!" It was a lot to take in, and I found myself agreeing with both sides.

I also noticed that many would say, I think breastfeeding is best, but formula feeding is okay if you have to, in an attempt to show non-breastfeeding mums that they supported them. (That's probably what I would have said before having a baby, too.) I think the problem is that even that statement could make it seem like mothers who have to (or choose to) formula feed made the "other" choice, not the "best" choice. As a mum you always want to make the BEST choice. 

So, 9 months into motherhood - 6 months breastfeeding and 3 months formula feeding - here is my thinking on the debate:

Maybe we should just cheer on every mother (or father) who feeds her baby. I know it sounds silly, but to me, it's that simple. That's what a baby needs. They need nourishment. Just as important, they need parents who love them and are able to enjoy the short time that their little ones are little, and not be stressed out over something as basic as feeding them. If I had chosen to formula feed my son from the very beginning, he would be fine. He would probably be the same healthy, happy little boy that he is now. We would have snuggled just as much while I was feeding him. He would know that I loved him, and our bond would have been just as strong. I'm still glad that I was able to breastfeed, but in hindsight, knowing now what I do, I could have formula fed him and felt good about that decision, too.  

So, if breastfeeding was your choice, and you are happy with the decision (despite any little bumps in the road), then breastfeeding is the BEST choice! Great job mum! Enjoy this time with your baby!

If breastfeeding isn't quite working out or causing you or your family undue stress, then you have to figure out what the BEST choice is for you and your family. Either way, great job mum! Enjoy this time with your baby!

If formula was your choice, then it's the BEST choice for you and your family! Great job mum! Enjoy this time with your baby!

In the end, you need to figure out what works for your baby, for you and for your family. Parenthood can be a pretty tough job. I'm only 9 months in, but it is both the most amazing experience and the most difficult, because I always want to make the best decisions for my little boy. We parents need to stick together and support the choices our fellow parents make. Our families may be different, but we're all just trying to do our best. Breast? Bottle? A mix of he two? In the end, we want happy, thriving babies, and only the parents of each individual baby knows what's best. After all, we wouldn't make a choice that was anything but the best! 

That's my two cents.

Something Good Is Happening On Facebook

I have a love/hate relationship with Facebook. I use it a lot, but, from time to time, I think about deleting my account. Facebook is my go-to place to connect with friends and family, and an easy way to make plans for get-togethers. During the winter months of my maternity leave, it was sometimes my only contact with the outside world and a source of (much needed) adult conversation. 

One of the big reasons that I sometimes turn Facebook off is the negativity - definitely not good for a new mum, trying to stay ahead of the baby blues, or anyone else for that matter. Whether it be people starting unnecessary arguments, posting vague status updates that are very "woe is me," or just constantly complaining about anything and everything, I don't think that it does anyone any good. The negative person stays in that mindset and often brings out that side in others. I'm not saying that everything has to be sunshine and rainbows, and I don't think that you should keep things in that are bothering you, but I think some people get into a negative groove and have a hard time getting out of it.  

That brings me to the reason I'm talking about Facebook. There is something good happening on Facebook these days. Usually, I'm not one to follow the silly posting games/trends, like "I'm going to Germany for five months" or "I like it on the couch" or changing profile pictures to giraffes. In fact, I always ignore them. This one is different though.

Gratitude challenges are peppering my newsfeed with positivity. There are several different challenges floating around, but the general idea is that you post a few positive things each day - something good that's happening or something you're grateful for - for 5 or 7 days. Each day, you also nominate another person to do the same. I had been nominated for one of these a few months ago and didn't do it, but after finishing the #blissphotoaday challenge last month, I wanted to continue with the good thinking, so I thought I'd give it a go when I was nominated this time. 

I'm currently on day 5. Some days are easier than others. Today, I could have complained about getting up a many times to get my son settled or the fact that I have a mountain of housework to do, but I didn't. I was able to find the silver lining. Getting up many times in the night also meant that I was able to get my son back to sleep - that's a pretty great feeling. And that piling up housework? That's the result of having a nice chill day with my little family. I'll take any amount of housework to have that.

I'm hoping that after this, I'll remember to look for the positive throughout my day. I know it makes Facebook a much more positive place to visit, and hopefully others will continue to do the same.

Here are a couple of highlights: (As you can see, some are a little more silly than others.)

-Coffee: It's a little magic. When woken up at 5:30, it really helps get the day started when my body is rejecting morning. 

-I'm so thankful that Little C has two pairs of grandparents that love him so much. Grandparents are pretty special people in the lives of little ones, and he's lucky to have such great ones.
 
-Best feeling? In the middle of the night, when I lay back down after helping C. go back to sleep, and he stays sleeping. I go back to sleep feeling like sleep superhero. (At least until the next time he wakes up... but then it happens all over again!)

-Maternity Leave - I feel so fortunate to live in a place that allows me to have maternity leave. Many mothers (or fathers) don't have this option, so I am forever grateful.

-Holidays: Bonus days are the best! Just when you think the weekend is over, there's still a day left!

-I think Dawn Advanced Power dish detergent actually is magic. It will clean anything off your dishes in just a couple minutes of soaking. Seriously magic.


Today, try to think positive and spread a little positivity!

Blood Donation - An Adventure that Gives Back!

Today’s adventure was a trip to Canada Blood Services.  I made my fourth blood donation.  I realize that four is a pretty small number, especially when you hear about people celebrating 100+ donations, but hey, you’ve got to start somewhere, don’t you? I don’t know why it took me so long to start donating. I’ve always been a very strong believer in blood donation.  As a child, I would often go to Canada Blood Services with my dad while he donated blood.  It didn’t seem like a big deal.  As a kid, it seemed like an awesome place to go.  I have memories of little blood drop pins, stickers, and treats before you went home. What kid wouldn’t love that? As an adult, to be honest, once I got over the initial needle fear, it’s about the same. I got a sticker after my first donation and there are always yummy treats when I’m done.  What adult wouldn’t love that?

The need for blood is high.  You may have heard the radio ads or seen the Facebook and Twitter posts declaring the “blood signal” to be on.  The Telegraph Journal ran an article today about blood donations on the decline.  Sounds like they need new donors.  I thought I’d take some time to tell you about my experience donating, in hopes that it may help someone else consider donating.

I had made my appointment when I last donated, so I was all set this morning. (You can call ahead, but I think that they will try their best to fit in anyone who arrives at their door.) Once there, I checked in, read some pamphlets on blood donation, and then started the screening process. They double checked my contact information and then made a little pin prick on my fingertip and tested my blood for iron. If your iron is too low, you can’t donate. Luckily, mine was fine.

 

After that, I went to a cubicle and started to answer a questionnaire with questions on my history, like whether I’ve felt sick, had dental work, or a vaccination lately; or had done any travelling. My favourite question is always, “Have you, in your past or present job, taken care of or handled monkeys or their body fluids?” I always have a little giggle and start thinking about what kind of job I could get where I could care for monkeys.

Once I completed the first part of the questionnaire, I was led into a little private room, where a nurse took my temperature and blood pressure, and reviewed the second part of the questionnaire. The questions she asks are a little more personal, asking about drug use, sexual history, and some more specific medical history questions. 

After it is completed, the nurse left the room, and I had to choose a barcode sticker to put on my paperwork. One barcode corresponds with yes, the other with no. If you choose the yes barcode, your blood will be sent off for the appropriate testing and will hopefully be used. If you choose the no barcode, your blood will not be used. You just peel off the barcode you choose, stick it on the paper, and throw out the remaining sticker.  No one knows which you’ve chosen. This allows anyone who does not think their blood should be used the opportunity to say no without anyone else knowing. 

The nurse then sent me to find a seat in the blood donation area.  From my previous donations, I’ve learned that my right arm seems to be the better one, so I always tell them that. Then, I sit back in a recliner and let the technicians do their work. They’re really good, and even if they have trouble finding a vein, there always seems to an “expert” on hand to help out. The one thing I never do is watch the needle going in. That’s just too much for me. It’s the worst part, but it doesn’t hurt. I just look away, and then I’m fine.  In fact, I think the little finger prick at the beginning hurts worse. Once the needle was in, I just sat back and checked Facebook and Twitter on my phone, enjoying the fact that I had a few minutes to myself.  The time it takes depends on the person.  I think it also gets quicker the more times you donate.  The first time it took a really long time.  Today, it took less than 10 minutes.  Then I had to sit for a few minutes before enjoying some sweet treats.  (I always go for the chocolate milk.)

That’s it! It’s really that easy, and relatively pain free.

My first donation didn’t go as smoothly as it did today. I think it’s important not to get discouraged if it doesn’t work out the first time. For my first donation, I went after a long day at work.  I was hungry and hadn’t had much to drink that day. I think they only got about a teaspoon of blood out of me, and I almost fainted.  They were so good to me though, giving me cold cloths for my face and tips for the next time.  After that, it was a lot easier, and I now feel great when I leave.  Now, I have two rules I always follow to ensure smooth sailing:

1) Drink water. Like lots of water. Start a few days before your appointment. Drink it on the way there.  I think it makes your veins nice and puffy.  I assume puffy veins are easier to find, and your donation gets collected faster.  

2) Eat before you go. Make sure you have a good meal.  Not just a granola bar on the way to your appointment. 

I’m really proud of the fact that I donate blood.  It’s an easy way to give back or pay it forward.  Blood donation can literally save a life.  Plus, you get a chance to sit back and relax for a few minutes, something this scatterbrain can appreciate!

"Mom" Skills

I feel like I should take a time out to explain what I mean by “Mum Skills.” When I was pregnant, I found myself constantly thinking about what I would need to know as a mum. As I said, these weren’t the REALLY important things, like how to change a diaper (which I had also never done before.) These were the skills that I felt, in my pregnancy brain, were crucial to being a successful mum.  Really, they’re not crucial, but I hope that whatever I can learn will help me make my son’s childhood positive and memorable. I think that they came from my own experiences growing up.  In reality, the word Mum could be replaced by dad, grandmother, grandfather, auntie, cousin, friend, etc. 

I was lucky enough to grow up with a stay-at-home mum. My mum made all of my Halloween costumes and always had fun things to make and do around the house. She also volunteered at my school and was always very present in my life. In my mind, those are all mum skills.  My dad was always a hands-on parent too though. We’d go skating, to the beach to fly kites, and he did a lot of cooking too. He made delicious bread and treats and was always available to explain things to me – whether it was the importance of drinking water or how a piece of machinery works.  In my mind, these are also mum skills. The baking I did with one grandmother, and seeing the beautiful sewing created by the other grandmother helped me add to my mum skills list. Thinking back to the beachcombing and exploring I did with various family members also helped add to my list. 

I use the term “Mum Skills” because I’m a mum, but feel free to expand the definition to include anyone who helps raise a child. With my pregnancy brain, I think I wanted to learn EVERYTHING in order to be the best mum I could be, but with my now 8-months post-pregnancy brain, I know that I can’t be everything to my son, and really shouldn’t be. There are lots of people in a child’s life and they all add something unique to their lives. The mum (or dad!) doesn’t have to have ALL of the traits that help make a child’s childhood special. After all, that’s why I believe in the saying, “It takes a village to raise a child.”

That being said, I still want to learn as much as I can. I can be a bit of an overachiever at times and want to acquire as many mom skills as possible, so my quest continues!

Allow me to introduce myself.

A scatterbrain. Yup, that's me. I could blame it on being a new mum, but I've probably always been one. I've been called ditzy, flakey, a daydreamer, but I think scatterbrain is the best term for me. My focus is always scattered among many things. My brain is anything but organized, and I can rarely sustain any amount of concentration. Currently, I am in the final months of maternity leave, so my brain bounces between baby, hubby, household stuff, hobbies, pets, health, the future, the idea of going back to work and not being with my son 24/7, and so on and so on. It's pretty much non-stop.

Sometimes I'm pretty good at hiding it, but other times, not so much. My keys are always lost; my desk at work is always piled high with a variety of piles representing all the things I'm working on; my brain is always going a mile a minute, with a to do list that not only never ends, but sometimes feels like it never gets started!

The fact that my brain can't focus on anything for the long term means that I've never stuck to anything for the long term, and I've have never really found anything that I loved. As a child, I did two years of piano, clarinet, and tap & jazz.  As an adult, I tried Nordic walking and completed two half marathons. (Hmmmm, there seems to be a theme of twos here.) I tried going to the gym. I've dabbled in photography and like to scrapbook (although I prefer to call it fancy photo albums, because my "scrapbooks" are basically a bunch of pictures, some writing, and stickers.... oh, how I love stickers... but now I'm getting off track.) I've taken jewellery making, card making, and knitting classes. I've tried to learn new ways to cook. I guess I like to try new things. I never thought this was strange. Well, that is until my husband informed me about a year or so ago that I didn't have a hobby. I tried to argue, listing off all the things that I did, but he was right. I didn't really have a hobby. I kind of wanted one.

At the time, I was also going to be a mum in a few months. The pregnancy brain may have contributed to this mini-life-crisis. I felt like mums needed to have hobbies... and skills. Not practical skills like how to feed, change, or generally keep a child alive. (I knew I'd figure that all out!)  Not super-power skills. Mum skills, like cookie baking, clothing mending, crafty skills. I thought maybe I could find a hobby that would also let me learn some of these magical mum skills.  I wanted to by THAT mum - the mum who makes the best treats, can make the cool Halloween costumes, organize the best birthday party, and make summer vacation a blast! I knew I needed to get to work. (Again, pregnancy brain may have had me even more scattered and not really thinking rationally!)

And so my adventure began. I decided that I wanted to learn some new things. I was in search of not only a hobby. I needed to sort out my scatterbrain and focus.

So how did my scatterbrain lead me here? Good question. I've always toyed around with the idea of starting a blog. (And by toyed around, I mean that I've planned it out a million times in my head, trying to figure out what I would focus on, the title, etc.  Just one more subject to take up space in my brain.) It's not like I want to be famous, or have a lot of people follow me (although a few would be nice), but I do have a couple of reasons:
1) I like the idea of adding something to the "big conversation" - I'm certainly not going to add anything life changing, but maybe I could find some fellow scatterbrains like me. (Let's band together and find focus! Or just add more scattered ideas to each others minds.)
2) I'm a teacher. I often teach writing, and yet I've never really done any "real" writing. I've never taken the jump to sharing anything I've written, even though I force my students to. I'm not really confident in my writing, but I always want my students to take a risk, so it's time for me to do the same. I've been working on my writing (with my students, as they work on theirs) over the past few years and think I've picked up some tricks, so we'll see how it goes.

So, with this blog, I hope to practice my writing and step out of my comfort zone, possibly find a few more similar minded folk, and keep track of my ever-changing hobbies, in hopes of finding something that will stick. Hopefully keeping a blog is step 1 in helping me find some focus, even if only for a few hours a week.

So, here it is. I'm blogging. I'm a blogger? Well, we'll see. Maybe this will be my new hobby... Or maybe it will just be one more scatterbrained idea! Either way, it will be an adventure!