Why I haven't responded to your message. An open letter to friends and family.

Dear friends and family.

I am fully aware that I am hard to get a hold of. You may have sent me a Facebook message. Or maybe you called me and left a voicemail. Now you are sitting there wondering why I am ignoring your message. The answer to your message could be so so simple. A short "yes I did", or "sure, see you tomorrow", would have sufficed. So why haven't I gotten back to you? Well folks. Life with a wild  active fourteen month old is busy. If I got as far as receiving your message, I have likely tried numerous times to carve out the minute or two that it would take to get back to you. I sat down at my desk and turned on my computer or picked up the phone with every intention of getting back to you. Chances are one, or more, of the following things happened....

1. Jack ninja swiped everything, everything, off of my desk in one swift motion. At least one of these things whacked him in the head so now he is crying.

2. I sat Jack down beside me with a quiet activity. One that I likely found on Pinterest which promised to keep kids busy. Said activity kept him occupied for about 2 seconds. After that he jail broke the safety latch off of the craft cupboard. So now Jack is running around the kitchen with a pair of craft scissors while I try to lure him back towards me with a box of goldfish crackers.

3. I set him up in the next room, still in view,  with his favourite toys. He started playing quietly so I tiptoed out of the room. I was just about to sit down when I see something fly across the room out of the corner of my eye (no it wasn't Jack).  I come back into the room and every dvd is sprawled across the floor, along with all of the clean laundry that I had just folded nicely and placed in a basket. Jack is now sitting in the basket.

4.  I placed Jack in our pack and play in front of a TV show with a few toys. At this point it may or may not have been educational, probably not. I walk away. This is his signal to start chanting "Mom, mom, mom, mom, MOMMMMMM", a gazillion times, loud enough for the neighbours to hear.

And I'm done.

So if you are waiting for me to get back to you, I promise I will. Eventually. At nap time. After I attempt to clean up the giant mess that this kid made and begin to tackle the ginormous mountain of laundry that has accumulated in random piles around the house. Or I will just rock back and forth in a corner until he wakes up again. Kidding.... Mostly.

If you are a fellow mom of a wild child I salute you. Lets get together and tag team baby watching, and wine drinking  message replying.

*note- Jack is taking a nap at this very moment, messages are up to date, and I totally typed this up instead of doing my laundry. *rebel*

When Along Came Jack. (Part One)

Complications with the pregnancy led D and I to make the decision to continue our prenatal care with a specialist in London. We would be taken care of there and baby would be born there. We were both safer that way. I was disappointed that we wouldn't be able to deliver at our local birth centre about which I had heard nothing but great reviews, but this was the way it had to be.

On August 8th (3 days after my estimated due date) D and I drove to London for our last prenatal appointment before baby would arrive. No contractions. No signs of labor. Just the regular discomforts that come with being hugely pregnant in the August heat. The drive was slow. I knew once we got there I would be examined and an induction would be set up. An induction that I swore in the past I would not go through with, but I now knew would likely be necessary because of the complications. Not to mention after 15 hours of "false labor" that resulted in an ambulance ride to London and a disappointed drive home at 37 weeks, I was done. Done wondering if today would be the day, if this cramp or that twinge was a sign of impending labor. I was ready to see the face of the boy that had been growing inside of me for 40 some weeks. The boy that poked and jabbed and stretched and hiccuped.

 We arrived at the hospital, registered, and sat down in the waiting room amongst the many other expectant moms and dads. We met up with a couple that was from our area. We chatted and laughed as we impatiently waited on the doctor, who was running extremely behind. I told the story of our run in with false labor weeks ago, likely scaring the you-know-what out of every single pregnant women in the waiting room that day (sorry ladies). Finally my name was called. I waddled walked into the exam room and was greeted by a new doctor. She was a kind women with a warm smile who could likely see the I'm-so-done-being-pregnant look on my face. She examined me, told me I was dilated to 3cm, and asked with excitement in her voice if I wanted to "get things moving". Oh yes. Yes *please*. She performed a stretch and sweep and told us it would likely be a matter of days before labor commenced. Just in case though, an induction was set up for the following Tuesday. Luckily though if we made it that far still pregnant I would only need my water broken since I had already made progress. We left the office and walked to McDonalds to grab drinks. Once we were seated in the restaurant is when the contractions started. They were barely noticeable and certainly not coming in any timely manner, so I ignored them. We got in the car and set out on our way back home.
The drive to and from the city had become all too familiar. I had memorized each restaurant, each church, each tree. I remember thinking to myself on the way home that day "next time we drive past that house, headed home, I will be riding in the backseat, with our new baby.". I was still getting some contractions here and there, again nothing too bad and not in any pattern, I was not concerned that labor might be just around the corner.
 Fast forward to later that night and contractions were becoming more irritating. I was hoping that labor would either start, or stop completely so I get some sleep and prepare for my induction on Tuesday. By 10:00pm the contractions had all but fizzled out. D and I were cuddled up on the couch watching TV when I felt something swoop over my head. "It was just a moth," I told myself, "a very LARGE moth". Well that moth turned out to be a bat. I screamed and covered myself with a blanket while D grabbed a blanket to catch it in. Somewhat traumatized, I decided it was time to head to bed. I was awoken at 12:30am by an intense contraction. I just knew that this was it. I was in labor. Soon I would be holding my sweet boy in my arms. I walked down the stairs to start timing them and was keeled over by another contraction before hitting the bottom step. Ok no need to time them, this is happening, this is happening fast. Too fast? We were about to find out...

To be continued...

How I stumbled into a [kind of] "crunchy" lifestyle

   If you were to ask me to describe my lifestyle I wouldn't say I am "crunchy". I would tell you that I am just one mama with two hands doing her best to give her littles the best possible start in this big crazy world. Urban dictionary defines "crunchy mama" as..... 

{"Mother who supports homebirth, breastfeeding, baby wearing, cloth diapering, co-sleeping, gentle discipline, etc. One who questions established medical authority; tends to be vegetarian and/or prepare all-organic foods. See crunchy and hippie."}

So I suppose since I had a natural hospital birth with Jack, breastfeed (even in public *gasp*), baby wear, cloth diaper, co-sleep,  eat meat, and don't prepare all organic foods (ain't nobody got time for that). I could be described as "kind of crunchy", or "light on the crunch" if you will. 

Anyway... I did not set out to be crunchy. I did not plan on cloth diapering, baby wearing, or co sleeping. And no a natural birth was not on my to do list either....nope. Here I am though, with a babe with a sensitive tush that breaks out from disposable diapers. A babe that refuses to be put down at.all most days and is happy as a clam wrapped up on my chest. A babe that sleeps so much better snuggled up next to his mama for the night. OH and although I am glad it turned out the way it did I did not plan on a natural birth. After 4 hours of labor though there really isn't time for any other kind. And to add to that list my breastfeeding babe happens to have a milk protein allergy so I eat dairy free. Does that count as crunchy? I'm going to say yes, just because I can.

Big sister Aubrey was a very easy baby. So all of this is new to me! I am just trying to go with the flow (and my instincts) and care for this baby and his big sister the best way that I can. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

PS: No I am not a hippie. I do not wear tie died shirts or have dread locks, and no my name is not flower...although that would be pretty awesome.