Kaylin’s birth story...and my final Baby Toes post

My little baby girl turned 4 years old today. My life has changed dramatically in these past 4 years, so much that I hardly remember life before my children. I know it existed. I’m just not sure what I did with myself all day.

Now that there are two little monkeys keeping me very busy each day, I’m finding I have less time to spend on this blog. Also, I’ve found other outlets for sharing my news, photos and stories with many of my friends and family. So it is with much sadness that I say goodbye to “I Heart Baby Toes”. I’ll leave it up for a while, but I won’t be updating it anymore. I’d rather be spending my spare time sleeping or playing with my kiddies.

And so I leave you back at the beginning, Kaylin’s birth story. I’ve been meaning to write this down for myself and for Kaylin since she was born. While I’m at it, I thought I’d share it with you. Thanks for reading everyone!


Tuesday, August 16, 2005, is one of my favourite days, possibly my most favourite day of my life. Even though I worked harder on that day than I probably ever will in my life, even though I experienced more pain than I ever have in my life, it remains my favourite day. That is the day Kaylin was born.

I began having contractions early that Tuesday morning, around 4 a.m. but they were mild and irregular enough that I was able to get back to sleep. Later that morning the mild contractions continued but we still weren’t sure if this was the real deal or not. We were first-timers! To be safe, Brian stayed home from work and helped me time the contractions as we went about our morning. I had a shower, had some toast, and we watched TV. It was a beautiful, blue-sky sunny August day. Hot, but clear and gorgeous.

My midwives’ office called at one point that morning to cancel my scheduled 39-week appointment for later that afternoon because the on-call midwife had been at a birth all night and had gone home to sleep. Little did my midwife, Maysoon, know she was not getting any sleep today. She had another baby to deliver later that night...mine!

Midway through the morning we noticed the contractions becoming more regular and by 11 a.m. we paged my midwives to let them know. Poor, tired Maysoon called us back and listened as I went through a few contractions. She decided she would come over and check to see how far along I was. Within half an hour, Maysoon arrived and did a quick examination. It was almost noon and I was about 3–4 cm dilated. It was time to head to the hospital. At the time we were living in Ajax and I was to deliver at Markham-Stouffville Hospital, which was about 20 minutes away. Maysoon drove ahead in her car to get my room ready while Brian and I grabbed my bag and left shortly after.

Here’s where it gets interesting. At this point the contractions were pretty strong and I was in too much pain to keep my eyes open. So I tried to manage my pain through breathing exercises while Brian navigated his way to the hospital. This is a hospital that I passed every day on my way to work. Brian was not as familiar with the location, but was confident (as men often are) that he knew the best route. Well, 15 minutes into the (painful) drive Brian began to wonder where we were. I opened my eyes to find us driving somewhere in farmland. He didn’t know where we were and I wasn’t watching! In between contractions I yelled at him and together we found our way back to a recognizable road and eventually to the hospital.

By 1 p.m. we were in the delivery room. Much of the afternoon is a blur for me—literally. I wasn’t wearing my contacts that day and didn’t bother keeping my glasses on, since my eyes were glued shut in pain for much of the day. I didn’t need to see anything anyway, I suppose. I was so inwardly focused, trying to manage the pain without an epidural. I was given some nitrous oxide (laughing gas) shortly after arriving at the hospital. That was nice...so nice that my midwife had to pry the breathing mask out of my hands. Apparently I was relying on it a bit too much!

For the first 8 hours or so it was just the three of us in the labour and delivery room—me, Brian and Maysoon—trying various methods to help my labour along. There was a lot of swaying and hanging onto Brian’s shoulders. There was about an hour in the Jacuzzi tub during which Brian sat on the edge of the tub and rubbed my back almost the entire time. (He discovered the next day that spending an hour bent over me like that caused him to throw his back out. Poor Brian, what a wonderful birthing partner.) There was a lot of apple and orange juice sipping and ice chip sucking on my part. Besides the toast I had early that morning, this was the only fuel I had in me. My midwife wanted me to eat, but I couldn’t fathom it. Brian, however, was able to get out and grab something to eat, though the time he was gone and not right at my side felt like an eternity.

Labour continued on throughout the day and each time Maysoon checked me I had progressed a little further. And each time she checked the baby and found the heartbeat to be strong and steady, she happily exclaimed that the baby “is so happy!” That gave me a boost of confidence each time. I must have been doing something right. By about 9 p.m. the secondary midwife arrived, which meant the baby would be coming soon too. I can’t quite remember, but I pushed for about an hour—not fun. I was so tired and just didn’t want to do it anymore. But once the baby’s head begins to appear and the midwives are telling you that your baby girl is blonde, well, you find a reserve of energy you didn’t know existed. You are close enough to touch your baby, you are minutes away from meeting her! But it wasn’t until the secondary midwife told me to “get mad” that I really pushed...and I mean PUSHED! And at 10:32 p.m., my beautiful Kaylin Elizabeth was born. She was 8 lbs and 21 inches long. The midwives immediately put Kaylin on my chest. I will never forget that smell—graham crackers. She smelled like graham crackers to me. And she was so pink and warm. So tiny and so perfect.

When Kaylin was born, Brian cried. I don’t remember if I did or not. It’s a pretty overwhelming experience to watch your child being born. I was mostly ecstatic and relieved that the pain was over and my baby was here. And I was on the post-birth high. I could have run a marathon at that point, if I only I could have stopped shaking from exhaustion. Brian, who before this day was unsure how he would do during the birth, bravely cut the cord. I was really proud of him.

It had been a long, long day and I would have stayed the night at the hospital. But Maysoon was concerned about an infection that was going around the hospital and encouraged us to head home with Kaylin that night. We were happy to oblige. The thought of our own bed was glorious! At 1 a.m. that morning, we put our tiny little baby into our car and drove back to our house, no longer just two—we were now a family of three.


Happy birthday Kaylin! I love you so much, sweetie pie!

Maks’ birth story

Maks O’Brian was born on the most beautiful, sunny, warm October afternoon, ten months ago today. Once he made his decision to come into the world, he set his determined little mind to it and got it done quickly. And as we know now, that is just so Maks.

My labour pains started at about 4 a.m. on Thursday morning. I wasn’t exactly sure at the time that I was in labour, due to the increasingly painful Braxton Hicks contractions I’d been having that week. I got out of bed (which was no easy feat at 37 ½ weeks!) and watched a little TV, hoping things would subside. It quickly became apparent that this was it. It it.

Just the day before, my midwife told me I could take Tylenol and Gravol during labour to help take the edge off. But I figured I had a few more days or even weeks to stock our medicine cabinet with these. Ooops. So I woke Brian up around 4:30 a.m. and asked him—as nicely as a woman in labour can—to run out to the drugstore for some pain relief. In the meantime I paced the living room. And paced. And paced. Where was Brian? More importantly, where were my drugs? I tried his cell phone—no answer. Maybe he really didn’t want to change diapers again and high-tailed it out of town. Who was going to hold my hand during the birth...Kaylin? Finally, about an hour later, Brian reappeared. With regular strength Tylenol and English Muffins?! ENGLISH MUFFINS? Oy, this was going to be a long day.

By 7 a.m. my contractions were mild enough that I could still grin and bear it, but regular enough that it was time to call Grandma and set the take-care-of-Kaylin plan in action. I called her on her cell, only to learn that she was driving OUT of London, in the opposite direction of me and my contracting belly! This was not good. First Brian ditches me to shop for English Muffins, now his mother is leaving me too. But she assured me she would over to help with Kaylin well before Kaylin's little brother arrived. And she was.

By 10 a.m. my contractions were still 12 to 15 minutes apart, but completely manageable. Grandma was here now and kept Kaylin occupied while I paced around the room, trying to carry on small talk while clutching the furniture with each painful contraction. Brian thought now would be a good time to install the car seat. Thankfully Brian is a car seat pro, so I wasn’t too worried. Just VERY ANNOYED that he was out in the driveway while I was in labour. But I digress.

At 11 a.m. I decided a warm bath would ease some pain and help keep my mind off things. That worked for about 3 minutes when I suddenly seemed to transition. A particularly terrible contraction caused me to shoot up out of the tub, my head knocking the suction-cupped toy holder behind me off the wall. As quickly as I could I hauled my bulging belly out, got dressed and went back downstairs. Following a few more difficult contractions, I told Brian to page the midwife. People ask how you know it’s time to go to the hospital. Well, you just know.

My wonderful midwife Binh called back immediately and surveyed my condition by listening to me go through a couple contractions over the phone. Somewhere in between those contractions I broke down sobbing, telling Binh, “I don’t want to do it again!” The “it” being give birth. But Binh, always a calm, soft-spoken woman convinced me that everything would be fine and reminded me to take deep, long breaths. Those deep breaths are what got me through the birth. I’ll get to that part in a minute.

Binh told me to go to the hospital, that it was time. As luck (or fate) would have it, she was already there and made sure there was a room ready for me. Brian and I hugged our first baby, Kaylin, good bye and headed out. When we got to the hospital, I incorrectly instructed Brian to go the wrong entrance. (He correctly decided to not question the woman having the baby.) But that entrance had no place to park the car, so he dropped me off and left for what seemed an eternity to park. While I waited I double checked the location of the maternity floor with the info kiosk. I was dismayed to find out we were at the wrong end of the hospital. Brian met me a few minutes later and we proceeded to walk the LONG walk to the other side of the building. It didn’t occur to us to grab a wheelchair! Looking back, maybe that walk helped things along.

At about noon, my midwife met us at obstetrics and took me into a room to see how far along I was. By this time the contractions were coming pretty strong and hard, but I was breathing through each one and still able to talk a little in between. I think we were both shocked to discover I was already 8–9 cm dilated! The baby was coming sooner than we thought. Crap. Binh told Brian there wasn’t even time to go back to the car for the camera.

Binh wheeled me to my room and began prepping for the birth while Brian helped me through each contraction. As with Kaylin’s birth, I had made the decision to not get an epidural. The way I see it, billions of woman before me have given birth without epidurals, so I could too. I wasn’t comfortable with some of the risks associated with epidurals and I certainly didn’t want to slow down this labour or decrease my ability to get this baby out in any way. I wanted him out ASAP!

Now, the next hour is a bit of a blur of moaning, deep breathing and sweat. Sounds like a dirty movie, but trust me, it was not even close. Between each contraction, I barely had enough energy to keep my eyes open. I sat quietly on the bed and tried to conserve all my energy. The room was pretty quiet. By this time a second midwife, Jennifer, had come to assist with the birth. Binh and Jennifer were alternately checking on me and preparing for the baby’s arrival. It was nice, if I can say that about labour and delivery. The sun was streaming through the window. The four of us were all relatively calm (maybe not me, so much). There were no doctors or nurses coming in and out of the room. And that is exactly how I wanted things.

By 1 p.m., it was time—time to push. It was a bit like a Hollywood birth; there was a lot of screaming, I won’t lie. But my midwives were amazing, instructing me to scream as loud as I needed, whatever I had to do, just do it. At this point, I just wanted to stop the pain and meet my son. Finally meeting my baby boy was all the motivation and pain relief I needed. So for 20 minutes I pushed. And I knew I was almost finished when I looked up at Brian and saw his tears of joy. That meant he could see the baby’s head. The hard part was done. A few seconds later, my beautiful son Maks was born—1:20 p.m. on a beautiful, sunny Thursday afternoon. Seven pounds, four ounces, and twenty-and-a-half inches long.

The post-birth high is something I’ll never forget. At the time I thought I was elated because the labour was over and the pain was finished. But looking back, it was the pure rush of giving birth, plain and simple. The high lasts a good day or two. There is really nothing like it on earth.

As with Kaylin’s birth, we chose not to stay at the hospital overnight and instead take the baby home after a three-hour recovery period. The baby was fine, and except for a few stitches, I was great (see the "post-birth high" above), so we gladly bundled Maks up and proudly brought him home, a little less than 5 hours after we had arrived at the hospital that afternoon. We went in at lunch and were home by dinner. Not bad for half a day’s work! Not bad at all.

Happy 10 months, my little man.

Kindergarten and crawling

Oh, what I wouldn't do to have 10 more hours in a day. Nobody told me (or at least I wasn't listenening when they did) that having two children would be so much more work than having one. I just can't seem to get a thing done around the house these days! But on the bright side, having two children means twice as many hugs and wayyyy more giggles around here. So I'm ok with that.

Can you believe that Maks is already eight months old? And our sweet girl Kaylin is almost four years old and is preparing to start Junion Kindergarten in just a few months. Kaylin has been to her new school several times for some fun orientation visits and she is more than ready to be a "big kid." She is writing her own name now, dressing herself and is practicing her address. I know she's going to love school and I can't wait to watch her development and imagination take leaps and bounds. She also loves being a big sister, although since Maks started crawling and grabbing her toys away from her, she may feel differently.

Maks is, well, he's definitely a little boy. We like to call him determined, for lack of a better term. About a week after he learned to roll over he was up on his knees trying to move forward--mainly in an effort to reach his big sister's toys. Within a few weeks he mastered crawling and about a week after that skill was ticked off his to-do list he decided he needed to stand up and see the world from a new vantage point. So he's now standing at the furniture and cautiously cruising around. And no one is happier about this than Maks. Once he gets himself up on the couch or TV stand, his face just lights up. And as you can see from his smiley mug in the photo above, that's quite a marvelous sight to behold! Really, it's not hard to get Maks to smile. All he needs is a woman (any woman will do) in the grocery store chatting to him and his smile spreads from ear to ear. He's also loving his solid foods, his favourite of which seems to be Cheerios. We often find him under the kitchen table nibbling on the ones that got away during his last meal. Gross, I know, but it gives me a few more minutes to tidy up and get ready for his next adventure in foodland.

So there you have it. Life here is busy but fun, crazy but always entertaining.

The yellow flowers

Being a mom is really hard, I'm finding out. It's physically demanding, mentally exhausting, and emotionally challenging. I suppose it will always be that way. From the minute those labour pains started to the day I die, it has been and will always be that way, to some degree or another.

That's not to say motherhood isn't wonderful. It's sort of like growing a garden. You put your heart and soul into it, you work hard at it, you love it and tend to it. And some days you are rewarded with beautiful blossoms that you can stand back and marvel at, proud that you actually grew something so lovely. And other days you do nothing but hunch and strain over that garden, pulling weed after weed, battling with the garden that seemed like such a great idea back in the spring. At the end of the day you are exhausted. But overall, you love gardening and would never give it up.

It's the same with children. You want to give your children so much, as much as you possibly can. You love them, care for them, nurture them in so many ways. And most days their shining faces just light up your day. And you think that this is really all you need in life. But there are moments, difficult moments, that make you question yourself and your decision to be a parent. At the end of the day you are exhausted, but you love being a mother with your whole being and could never dream of another life.

It's Mother's Day and I got the most lovely gift from Kaylin this afternoon--a beautiful bouquet of dandylions she picked from our neighbour's boulevard. While the rest of us see weeds, my little girl sees pretty yellow flowers. And for the first time, I saw pretty yellow flowers too.

Happy Mother's Day.

Stare all you want

26 Reasons Why It's Wonderful to Have Kids

Word on the street (literally, I heard this out on my street) is that Brian's recent post on what it's like to have kids has frightened a few people who have yet to have children of their own. So, in an effort to calm any prospective parents out there, I'd like to offer a slightly sunnier view of parenthood. Trust me, it ain't all bad. It's actually quite lovely most days.

26 Reasons Why It's Wonderful to Have Kids

1. To you, your own children's giggles are the most musical, heavenly sound on earth.
   
2. Seeing the world through fresh and innocent eyes. Why DO geese honk? I don't know Kaylin, but I'll look into it for you.
   
3. Kids' clothes are just so darned adorable, especially fresh out of the dryer when they're all warm and clean.
   
4. Tiny toes and fingers...even if those tiny Maks toes are often sweaty and smelly and always have navy blue lint between them.
   
5. Babies are never mean or spiteful, like many adults can be. They'll never cut you off in traffic or be rude to you on the phone. Babies are nice people to be around.
6. Kids are always ready to dance with you, whenever the mood strikes.
7. Kids' TV shows--though seemingly annoying at first--can be quite fun to watch.
8. One word: hugs.
9. There is so much cool baby and kids' gear out there, and although it can get pricey you can always justify buying it by (inappropriately) equating expensive baby gear with better parenting.
10. Toothless baby grins are hilarious. Much funnier, and less creepy, than toothless great-grandfather grins.
11. When you have kids you finally get to find out exactly how little sleep you can function on. And you're always surprised at how little that actually is.
12. You get to enjoy lots of coffee! (See #11 above.)
13. Holding your sleeping baby for just ten minutes can bring you as much calm and internal peace as a whole hour of overpriced yoga. And you don't need to squeeze into tight pants to do it.
    
14. The pride you feel when your preschooler writes her name for the first time is ten times the pride you felt earning your own university degree.
15. Having kids gives you an excuse to colour with crayons and finger paint.
16. Cooking for your children exposes all the holes in your own diet. Not until I had kids did I discover that I rarely eat vegetables before 5pm.
17. Though waking up with the kids at the crack of dawn is hard some days, you get to see the most glorious sunrises--and with your favourite little people by your side.
18. You become desensitized to handling all sorts of bodily fluids. (I think this is a good thing.)
19. Babies laugh at almost anything. They make you believe you are actually funny.
20. Childbirth really is a mind-blowing miracle.
21. You have an excuse to eat macaroni and cheese at least once a week.
22. If your kids are cute they usually distract people's attention towards them and away from your worn clothes and messy "I-didn't-have-time-for-a-shower-because-the-kids-were-up-at-dawn" hair.
23. Babies don't seem to mind if you kiss them all day long, or at least they can't yet form the words of complaint.
24. You get to experience new "firsts" every single day, from big ones like first steps to little ones like a first taste of cotton candy--all magical in their own right.
25. As long as your kids are safe and healthy, the rest of your problems seem managable and somewhat small.
26. Hearing your baby say "I love you" makes your heart burst out of your chest. And there is no better feeling in the world.
    

This is all I have time for

Brian is (again) hassling me to update my blog, but who has time anymore? Some days I forget to pee, I'm so busy. But of course I'm more than happy to share some recent pictures of the kiddies with you so you can at least witness the amazing rate at which my children grow. Do they all grow so fast? Sad, isn't it?

Here are some of my favourite moments and pictures from the past few months.


Some of Maks' first smiles, from early December. Look at all the hair he had back then!

Maks and Kaylin sharing some special sibling time.


Daddy making Maks smile.

Kaylin wearing her Pepe's glasses.

Pepe rocking his grandson to sleep at Christmas.
Kaylin, anxiously awaiting the start of her first ballet class.

Kaylin doing her "princess walk" in ballet class.
I love this picture of Kaylin, running with her scarf -- being her free and happy self.


Daddy holding his little man.
Maks, in mid-February, hanging out in his sister's bed. Notice how much hair he's lost!


The one and only Maksimo!

The "reality" behind Kaylin and Maks

We tried, we really did. Brian and I really do like traditional, normal names for kids, but in the end we have chosen two somewhat unusual names. It's hard to walk that fine line of common names vs. very unique and unusual names. But I think we did ok. And hopefully our kids won't be teased too much.

So just how did we come up with "Kaylin" and "Maks" you ask? Well, I'll be honest: I've named my children after reality TV personalities. It's sad but true. It's not that I'm a reality-TV junkie or anything (OK, maybe I am), it just turns out that there are a LOT of reality TV shows out there and I happen to have heard two names I love from two of them.

Here is the original "Kaylin":

She was a contestant on America's Next Top Model when I was pregnant and I liked both her and her name. Apparently so did Brian, so we went with it. Her name is actually spelled "Kahlen" and I wanted to use the spelling "Kalen" with our baby. But Brian filled out the paperwork right after the delivery (while I was slightly incapacitated) and chose the spelling he preferred -- "Kaylin" -- which, looking back, was a perfect decision. Unfortunately, Kaylin gets called Katelyn a lot, but I'm ok with that. I love her name and is suits her to a T.


Now, here is the original "Maks":

This is Maksim Chmerkovskiy, or "Maks" for short, and he's a dancer on Dancing With the Stars. But let me get one thing straight--I do NOT watch this show (ok, I've seen it a few times, but I don't watch regularly, I swear). I was channel surfing one night, early in my second pregnancy when I saw the name "Maks" underneath this man's picture and fell immediately in love--with the name, not the man. I have a thing for the letter "K", can you tell? Anyway, while I'm not a fan of the name "Max," I do love "Maks". I think it's the Eastern European sound of it. "Maksim" is not only a Russian name but also Hungarian, and since I am 1/2 Hungarian on my dad's side, I thought this was even more appropriate. I never thought Brian would go for it, but I guess I argued my case well because in the end we went with "Maks" and not "Tiberius," which was Brian's first choice. Eek.

So there you have it...Kaylin and Maks. Two unique names inspired by reality television. And a sad comment on my common choice of leisure activity. I really must get outside more.

Life with Maks

As you can see, it's been over a month since I last posted. It's not because I have nothing to say about life with our expanded clan. In fact, it's because of our expanded clan that I haven't had the opportunity to post--life is just far too busy these days. Who would have thunk that having two kids would be so, um, what's the word....challenging? I won't bore you with the details. Many of you have more children and busier lives than me. But for those of you without children, let me sum it up by saying that there are days where I don't have time (or maybe I just don't remember the importance of this simple act) to pee. I have gone over 8 hours without doing so. Then again, maybe I'm just turning into a camel.

So, what is Maks like you ask?? He's pretty wonderful, not that I'm biased. He's what you'd call a "good baby" who cries maybe less than a total of 20 minutes per day. Grunting is another story. Maks has a whole symphony of grunts and groans that he graces us with throughout the day. He sounds like a cross between a goat, a cat and a squeaky door.

He's also a very VERY hungry baby. I seem to be nursing him every 1-2 hours. It may be just life's cruel way of giving me what I want though. During Maks' first few days we had a lot of breastfeeding problems to the point that he was drinking expressed milk by bottle only. I was heartbroken, fearing he would never nurse again. I thought I had lost him to the bottle and was willing to do anything to "get him back." I'm happy to report that ten minutes with an amazing lactation consultant was all it took. Maks has been nursing...and nursing and nursing and nursing...ever since. So I really can't complain. This is what I wanted and I'm thrilled that the bottles are back in the closet.

My days are generally spent parked on our sofa with a nursing pillow on my lap. Which would be fine if this were my first baby and I could watch movies all day long. But poor Kaylin is getting the short end of this stick. She too is relegated to the living room, forced to play by herself while mommy feeds Maks. We do get to play "Eye Spy" a lot, and she has her fill of cartoons throughout the day. But I feel a lot of guilt about how her life has been temporarily altered and I cherish my alone time with her much more now. Thankfully, she loves her baby brother (a little too much actually. I'm not sure Maks appreciates all the kisses and hugs she gives him) and is only slightly annoyed that mommy can't play with her as much.

Life will get easier, this much I know. In the meantime, I am enjoying my little man Maks and feel blessed that our perfect little family has gotten just a little more perfect.

He's here!

Mere hours after the below post, Mr. Maks O'Brian made his glorious (and rapid) entry into the world. (And may I say I was extra-tired during the labour because I was up late the night before posting that, so you're welcome!) Born at 1:20 p.m. on Thursday, October 9, Maks was 20.5 inches long and weighed 7lbs 4oz.

He was in quite the hurry to get out. After 6 hours of mild early labour, things alarmingly sped up aroung 11 a.m., so I decided to call my midwife. After hearing me go through a single contraction, she agreed it was time to head in. Out of sheer luck, she was already at the hospital...which was wonderful considering she lives 40 minutes away.

Brian and I quickly made our way to the hospital where, this time, I was the one who got us lost. (That was Brian's job last time.) After meeting up with the midwife at about noon, I was shocked to discover I was already 7-8 cm dilated. She immediately called for the secondary midwife and we were off to the races. To make a short labour story even shorter, an hour of intense pain and 20 minutes of pushing later, and baby Maks was born. Brian and I couldn't have been happier. He is perfect and beautiful. The best part? We were all home enjoying dinner just 3 hours later. Pure bliss!

And what about Miss Kaylin you ask? Well, she loooooves her baby brother! Almost too much. She and I are currently battling to see who can give him the most kisses...and she might be winning.

Patience is a Virtue

Well, no babies yet. We're down to less than 20 days till our estimated due date and all is quiet on the fetal-front. So I'm just trying to be patient and enjoy what little time I have left to shop, eat junk food, and wear a normal, non-nursing bra.

But as Kaylin will tell you, I'm not the most patient person in the world. A few weeks ago, we were in a four-car line-up at the bank drive-thru when I--obviously exasperated--exclaimed something to the effect of, "Oh, come on!"

Kaylin, in her ultimate toddler-wisdom, instructed me from the back seat on how to be more patient.

"Mom, you can't get frustrated," she told me, "you just have to wait your turn!"

So true, little person, so true.

And so, I am not getting frustrated. I am just waiting my turn to have a second baby. I promise, Kaylin.

One more month...or less?

I know, I know, it's been over a month since I updated this. But I've been busy nesting, what can I say? The countdown is on until monkey #2 arrives...less than 5 weeks till the due date! However, my midwife told me today that 37 weeks is considered full-term, so the baby's "free" to come in two more weeks.

TWO MORE WEEKS?!?!

But, but, I'm not ready! Yes, the baby's room is painted and all the furniture is set up. Yes, all the tiny sleepers and onesies are washed and put away neatly. Yes, I have several packs of diapers ready to go. Yes, I bought some new BPA-free bottles. Yes, we even bought a new stroller. Then what's the problem, you say?

To be honest, change scares the crap out of me. Naturally, things are going to change around here--and more than likely, a lot. All things considered, life with a three year old is pretty easy. Kaylin tells me when she needs something. She feeds herself (and very neatly I might add). She can put on her own shoes and socks and pants. She even fetches things for me and tells me jokes. How great is that? But this baby, this tiny helpless baby, is going to be a giant ball of need for months. Months!

And yet, I can't wait to be needed again. I love that Kaylin is so independent. I'm very proud of her and everthing she can do. I encourage her independence every chance I can. So it will be nice to have a little tiny bean who desperately needs his mommy. Yeah, that's going to entail many sleepless nights and bags under my eyes large enough to hold my groceries. But it's also going to mean teeny-weeny baby noises, itsy-bitsy toes and fingers, first smiles, first giggles, first words and first steps...first everything. I'm really excited about going through it all again. And I'm excited that Brian is going to have another male to bond with (and team-up against us girls with, as we do to him all the time) and that Kaylin is going to have a little buddy to play with and grow up with.

So, whether monkey #2 arrives in two weeks or six weeks, life is going to get pretty wonderful around here. I'm not sure how many more times I'll update this blog between now and then...but stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion to our ongoing saga here at Chez Baby Toes!

What's more painful: labour or cake decorating? (also, Kaylin turns 3!)

Our sweet girl turned 3 this past weekend. I can hardly believe it. I look back at pictures of her when she was 3 months old, 9 months old...she doesn't seem like the same person. But then sometimes I watch her as she sleeps and it feels like she was only born yesterday and I could still pick her up and cradle her like a tiny newborn. Sighh, how time flies.

And speaking of time, how much time do you think it would take to make a Dora the Explorer birthday cake? Well, I'll tell you in a minute. Let me start by saying that my first mistake was asking a 2 year old what kind of cake she wanted for her birthday. Of course Kaylin wanted a Dora cake. Who am I to stand in the way of a Dora fan and her celebratory baked goods?

To be sure, I asked her again several times over the past few weeks and her answer was always "A Dora cake!" OK, I thought, sounds like fun. The week before her birthday, I rented the Dora pan, baked the cake and bought a few more containers of cake decorator's food colouring to ensure Dora's t-shirt and backpack were accurately depicted. (I wouldn't want to disappoint Kaylin with an inaccurate icing-rendering of her favourite cartoon character!) All I had to do was decorate the cake the night before the party. Easy.

Easy, unless you are suddenly stricken with your 5th sinus infection of your 7-month pregnancy that same day. Sick or not, there was no turning back. Dora couldn't arrive at the party naked. She had to be iced. Fighting back a throbbing sinus headache and blowing my nose every 15 minutes (and then washing my hands thoroughly each time, I promise!) I started mixing the many colours required to make Dora around 9:30pm. To make a long story short, I did not finish that cake until 1:30am. (It's mixing all the colours that took the longest. Why doesn't Dora match her clothes better instead of wearing yellow socks and red shorts? Incidentally, a woman in line at the Bulk Barn told me it took her 2 hours to decorate her Dora cake. Liar!!) I don't think I sat down that entire time and had to hobble up to bed that night.

As I lay in bed, trying to will my back muscles to stop spasming, I wondered to myself, what's more painful--delivering a baby without any pain medication, as I had done 3 years earlier, or spending 4 solid hours decorating a Dora cake when you're already sick, tired, and carrying an extra 35 pounds around?

I'm still not sure. But I do know that seeing Kaylin's face after each experience--after I delivered her and after she saw her Dora cake for the first time--made both nightmares dreams come true!!

Happy birthday Kaylin, my beautiful three year old!

"No more diapers for me"

First of all, sorry for the sporadic posts, but baby #2 is beginning to wreak havoc on my back and sitting for long periods in this computer chair is probably the worst culprit. So I haven't been spending as much time at the computer as I want.

Now, back to Kaylin. She continues to grow into a "big girl" right before our eyes, by leaps and bounds no less! She's turned into the quintessential three year old (a month before her third birthday, but that's ok)--making up stories and songs, chatting to her herself all day long, being silly and funny and just generally, well, three! It's hilarious to watch, though I can see how some parents grow weary of the constant preschooler questions. (Every book we read these days results in a lengthy question-and-answer period, like "Mom, why does that cow have that ring in his nose?" (he's a bull...then I have to explain what a bull is...), "What does 'on the loose" mean?", "What's 'don't tell a soul' mean?", "Why is that horse dancing with a pig? Horses don't dance with pigs!" and on and on. Honestly, I do love being witness to the curious mind of a child, but some days...well, let's just say I'm learning to read Kaylin's books more quickly in the hopes of bypassing the questions.)

We're also knee-deep in potty training here! We started about three weeks ago when I took the plunge and put Kaylin in some "big girl underwear" so she could finally experience the wonderful world of wetness. The first time she peed, she looked down in amazement and said, "It leaked!" As incentives, Kaylin picked out some Strawberry Shortcake underwear and receives a few fruit-flavoured mini-marshmallows when she has a successful trip to the potty. (What can I say, she's my kid and easily motivated by sugar.)

From there we were lucky enough to receive a fantastic potty training video from cousin Bradyn, who is also on the road to dry undies, called Potty Power! The video is directed at preschoolers and features such classic songs as "No More Diapers for Me" and "Wipe Your Bottom". The songs are cute and catchy (so catchy they stick in mom's head too!) and the video really focuses on the differences between babies and big kids. That has been the big step for Kaylin. She sees that she's becoming a big kid and has really developed the confidence and understanding to use the potty regularly. Accidents are becoming fewer and more far between and that's all I could ask for. She sings her Potty Power! songs while sitting on the potty or washing her hands and is really proud of what she's accomplished. And she doesn't always remember to ask for her marshmallows, so I think we're on our way. We're just going to keep at it and continue to watch our big girl blossom!

Boy oh boy

Well, if ultrasound technology is as accurate as they say, then it looks like we're having a boy! It wasn't a total surprise to us. I mean, the Chinese gender-predicting calendar said it was a boy (and it was right with Kaylin too). My own "mother's intuition" felt this one was a boy. And my neighbour told me we were having a boy--the same neighbour who is happily managing twins with way more finesse than any new mom should possess, so I know she has developed some sixth sense when it comes to babies.

I will be honest. I have mixed emotions. Not really about having a boy. Well, ok, I am a bit nervous about how different a boy will be. As Brian will tell you, I don't handle change well. And this is a big change. I'm used to girls. I'm used to all the lovely pink clothes (which I never thought I would enjoy, but I so do!) I'm used to the little dolls, the tea sets, the princess crowns, and the play jewelry. And as I found out during a recent playdate with Kaylin's friend Jacob, I know nothing about sports. (And not to stereotype gender preferences, but they really seem to develop naturally in children.)

In reality, I am very excited about having a boy. Having a second child is thrilling enough, but having one of the opposite gender is going to be fascinating, I'm sure. And I'm happy for Brian too. Sure, Kaylin enjoys looking at comic books with him, and she knows the names of several characters (her favourite being Beast Boy, of course). But someday that interest will be replaced with a love for all things Hannah Montana. So it's nice to know that daddy will likely have someone who can join him in his Marvel universe.

What I'm a little sad about is Kaylin's clothes. I have bins and bins full of girl's clothes and, more importantly, memories of my first little baby who wore all those clothes. It's going to be hard to say goodbye to those one day. Maybe I'll keep them around for a few more years...who knows what the future holds!

Happy Daddy's Day, to the best daddy around

Just a simple note to say Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there, especially the dad I live with every day, Brian. If Kaylin knew how to type, she would be the first one here to say "thanks for being so amazing, daddy!"

Here are a few pics to celebrate the day: one of Brian and his little girl before heading out to see Diego Live, and another of Kaylin showing off her wooden climber that Brian built for her without any kits or instructions--just love for his daughter (combined with a love for power tools).

Happy Daddy's Day, Brian!!

It must be all the sleep we're getting

I don't know if it's the warmer weather and sunshine, all the sleep that we're getting now that Kaylin regularly sleeps though the night, or the fact that she is just growing up--but life with my toddler has been pretty wonderful lately.

I can't even remember the last time Kaylin had a full-blown tantrum. Most of the time she is a happy, smiling, singing cutie-pie who just makes my heart glow. She says the funniest things like "Mom, can you do me a favourite?" or wishes me a "happy birthday" even though my birthday is months away. She spends hours singing her favourite songs and nursery rhymes, pretending to be Strawberry Shortcake or Dora the Explorer, reading "Handsome and Gretel" with me, and having picnics complete with "watermelon soup" on the living room floor.

When Kaylin was an infant, learning to talk and walk, I used to look at her and get an overwhelming feeling of pride and love that would wash over me and take my breath away. Everytime the feeling struck, it almost brought me to tears. That's the only way I can describe it. But I haven't had the feeling for many months. I thought maybe it was something you only feel when you're a new mom, like the first months of falling in love. The overpowering sensations you feel when you see that person fade to a deep love over time. It's not that you love them any less. Just that the "newness" has worn off. I thought maybe the "newness" of my baby had warn off.

But lately, I'm having that feeling again. The things Kaylin says and does astound me and move me. I'm so proud of the person she's becoming--her incredible and witty sense of humour, her compassion for other people, especially babies, and her creative imagination. I still can't believe this amazing person calls me "mom". How lucky am I?

Bye bye sooder

As a parent, you want your child to always feel as safe and secure as possible--especially when you can't be there every single moment of the day to hug and soothe them. That's why we've always been comfortable with letting Kaylin have a soother.

As a newborn, Kaylin wouldn't even take a soother. It took a couple of months before she began using one regularly, and by regularly I mean at nap and bedtime. As the months passed, we also let her use it if she was very upset and needed additional comfort beyond what our hugs and kisses could provide, whether it was after a bump on a table corner or a particularly terrible temper tantrum.

I knew one day the soother (or "sooder" as we all called it) would have to leave us, but I wasn't sure how or when. In fact, I really dreaded it. How on earth was I going to wrangle that piece of plastic and rubber away from my child's death grip? And how would she ever fall asleep again? All I knew was that it was not going to be a pretty sight.

Thankfully and remarkably, Kaylin gave up her soother all by herself.

It started with the biting. She began gnawing on the soother, piercing the tip and rendering it useless. I frantically replaced the first few broken soothers because I didn't have a "soother withdrawal plan" in place yet. But soon she was biting through them within minutes of getting a new one.

So we moved to plan B. We let her live with her broken soother. She wasn't biting the end off completely, so there was no danger. She even willingly threw one of her soothers away, telling us she was a big girl (but then quickly asked for her other soother a while later.) Soon, the true purpose of the soother was lost and she was asking for it and we were giving it to her out of habit.

Then, while on a weekend trip, we were away from our normal routine just enough that she didn't ask for her soother one night. I grasped the opportunity and ran with it! Nights became weeks and suddenly Kaylin no longer asked for her soother. Amazing. Problem solved!

Who knew it would be so easy? No tears, no bribes or rewards. No tantrums or pleading. Just a little girl, growing up and moving on.

I think I'll miss you the most, "sooder"!

Monkey #2

Well, if you haven't heard by now or if you haven't seen my expanding belly lately, allow me to proudly announce that we're expecting baby #2 this October.

Yes, we're very excited.

No, we don't know we're having yet.

And yes, Kaylin knows. We told her very early, possibly too early. Now she has to wait and wait. Not that she really cares. She really has no concept of what it means to have a sibling, so why should she. But she does tell people from time to time that she's going to be a big sister. Her exact words are: "I'm going to be a big sister and teach the baby to be a monkey, ooh ooh aaah ahh!"

So get your bananas ready. Monkey #2 is coming!

Our big girl

Kaylin put her own sock on today. I kid you not, it was really exciting. It's just one in a long line of thrilling things our "big girl" has been doing lately. Here are a few more, just to give you a sense:

• She does up the buckles in her carseat by herself. It takes about 5 minutes and makes us late wherever we go, but she does it herself.
  
• She's been using the potty intermittently and even goes into the bathroom on her own, shutting the door behind her, telling me she's going to do it herself.
  
• She's sitting on a normal kitchen chair--no more booster seat!
• She put her own toothpaste on her toothbrush today.
• She can "read" me a few of her books from front to back completely from memory! That one amazes me.
• She calls us "mom" and "dad". She also calls us "guys," which is the funniest thing ever.
• She can ride her tricycle a bit. It's going to take more practice, but her first time out this spring was a big success.
• She tells us all the time that she's a "big girl" and she can do things all by herself.

Of course, it's all bittersweet. You never want your child to stop being your little baby. You want them to stay small, and sweet and completely hugable. In fact, I tell Kaylin to stop growing all the time. But like any two year old, she never listens!