Happy Birthday Pop!

Today is my father's 80th (!) birthday. In preparing for the BIG party, I looked at some old photos. I have sifted through yellowed, grainy black and white ones and stared cross-eyed at those displayed on my Mac. It is quite amazing to see both the progress of my father and that of technology. Time doesn't fly, it zooms at warp speed!

The early days
My pop was born in New Jersey, right across the water from Manhattan. This was back before the days of the Washington Bridge and the Twin Towers. He speaks fondly of going to the Met, roaming the streets of NYC and playing hours of handball. He graduated from high school at the top of his class, a handsome young man with slicked back hair (and yes there was lots of it!).

University days
Like many of his generation, he was the first in the family to go to university, attending Michigan Tech. He was a frat boy and an engineering student, thus there were many ridiculous pranks and rituals, including swallowing gold fish (we can see now the benefits of all that fish oil). In addition, "Bobby" was a tennis star and left many a nursing student a-flutter. After graduating with honours ("school really wasn't that hard, you know") he paid back his debt to the U.S. army, with a deployment in Germany.

A family man
My Dad met my Mom (Elisabeth) on a U.S. army base, where she was working as a secretary. Her shapely legs and beautiful smile, immediately caught his attention and not long after they were married. With his deployment finished Bob and Beth headed back to the States via boat. My mom was sick for the whole trip and was thankful to reach NYC and the new in-laws. My folks initially settled in Arkansas but moved to California and Nevada. The details are blurry to me (clearly a lack of gold fish), but during this time my sister Susanne and brother Michael were born and not long after came Peter. Some six years later, I arrived - the family's pride and joy.

A traveling man
My Dad was a mining engineer and traveled to the far reaches of the world to visit mines, from Asia to Israel and New Zealand. We received treasures from all these trips, but best of all were the stories from far away lands. It gave all of us wanderlust - a bane for our families - a constantly changing environment is what I thrive on. We had a good, stable family life, one that allowed us to flourish. Respect and generosity were expected as was working hard and taking on responsibilities. Traits we all share still today.

The digital age
As the photos of my Dad become clearer with the advancement of technology and time, we can see the lines around his eyes beginning to form and become permanent. His hair too changes colour and shape. A few things remain the same however, the sparkle in his blue eyes is steadfast as his welcoming smile. Dad, may the twinkle never fade and the stories never end.

Happy Birthday - it has been quite a ride!

The highs and lows of turning 45(!)

Yesterday was my birthday and while I would have liked to navel gaze and study the gray hair, it simply was not an option. A summary of my highs and lows follows:

High: I was woken up with chocolate cake!
Low: It was 6:00 a.m.
High: I had presents on the breakfast table!
Low: My family all departed too quickly.
High: I had a slate-free day to catch up on work.

VERY Low: The daycare called to tell me my little guy had experienced a seizure.
High: They had already called the ambulance.
Low: Seeing my loved one packed into an ambulance.
High: Getting expert care at the MCH - thanks!
Low: Worrying about the "next" time.

High: Coming home and watching the most amazing video produced by my children:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q1hGA-H0ZfU.

High: Enjoying shishtaouk for dinner
High: Receiving enormous support from family and friends
High: Going to sleep in a warm bed, knowing that everything will be ok.

The "highs" definitely outweighed the "lows" - I guess 45 isn't so bad after all.

ne, ne, ne, NINETEEN!

Some may remember the song. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oSGvqjVHik8)

I can still remember dancing to it, while celebrating my own nineteenth birthday! Hard to believe I now have a daughter this age, who has never heard of Paul Hardcastle.

It has been a great year for my girl, capped-off by getting her driver's license. Freedom for both of us. No more late-night pick ups or drives with a van full of giggling girls. This is one of the last things on my parent "to do" list. I could pat myself on the back for a job well done.

But there are some things I just can't teach..And these may be the hardest lessons of all. I experienced this recently, when trying to help mend her broken heart. Smiles, cookies and hugs just won't help. We all know, time will, but this she must find out by herself.

Happy Birthday my sweet. I will now sidestep and let you lead the way!

These boots were made for walking

Fall is definitely here and with it comes the rain and ensuing puddles. My one-year old has discovered these with delight. We too are thrilled that he is hopping and splashing. Just a few weeks ago we removed his leg-cast (perhaps fodder for another blog) and thus we are overjoyed that he is walking well and enjoying the drizzly weather. The resulting soggy shoes however, are not so appealing.

Off we went to find some rain boots. I was armed with a fist full of loonies and my boy with his bottle. We went to five (!) stores, ones you would recognize. Did we find boots for boys?? Ha! There were lovely boots for wee girls: pink, and yellow ones, ones with Dora, and others with Barbie. Where were the cute boots for boys?? "Sold out" was the answer.

In desperation, we finally went to a childrens' shoe store. Did they have rain boots for boys?? Oh yes they did..well sort of, two models, and only one that fit Sir Liam. I was relieved, no more wet socks and cold feet, until I went to pay. My fist full of cash simply wasn't sufficient. The total came to $50! (that's $25/boot). This sum for an accessory that will last, at most, six months.

Given this, perhaps we will consider introducing our little man to the possibilities of cross-dressing.

A year ago today

In the middle of the night I felt a tug, then pressure in my belly. A quick trip to the bathroom confirmed it - the day was here and it was going to be a memorable one.

After waking up your aunt and Dad, we drove to the hospital.

The moon was full and it was a gorgeous, soft night. I could hear the whispering of the cicadas and chirping of some very early-risers. You and I were both excited - I babbled and you kicked along the way. Your Dad and aunt were quiet, anticipating the road ahead.

We were greeted with smiles and bright lights at the hospital. I was hooked up to tubes and drips, oblivious to anything but your stirrings.

After an eternity of waiting, you finally made your move. I responded gladly and used all my energy to help your progress. Although, it wasn't easy and you struggled a bit at the end, we both made it through.

At last, I was able to hold you in my arms, you were unbelievably tiny and precious. When our eyes met for the very first time, it was with recognition. "There you are."

A year ago today, you were born and changed our lives forever.

Tel Aviv: Warm weather, water and people

After a very grueling 16-hours of travel, we arrived in Tel Aviv, to be greeted openly. There was no army staring us down and no threatening atmosphere anywhere. We were embraced by the humid air of the Mediterannean and welcomed warmly by the people of Israel.

Our first stop was the beach - the ocean was incredibly warm, as was the sand! Too warm for sensitive Canadian feet. Our second stop was to satisfy our rumbling stomachs. We were hosted by some colleagues and friends and were treated to a delicious and filling supper on the sand. Both our hosts and the restaurant staff did not blink an eye when we brought in Sir Liam. Immediately a booster was brought out and his royal highness enjoyed the likes of calamari, hummus, fish kebabs and creme brulee that really did melt in our mouths.



Day two involved a whir wind tour of the Weizmann Institute and yet another hosted dinner, this time in the Tel Aviv port. The Institute was surprisingly large and beautiful and their public relations office was daunting. The port was lively and full of children, even after 10 p.m. Sir Liam ate more calamari and shrimp soaked in olive oil..oy.



Our last day involved a trip to the historic site of Old Jaffa. Once again, a remarkable spot. Beautiful, clean and full of history. We visited the market and managed to bargain for a few items - I'm not sure who got the bargain, though.

The city of Tel Aviv is crumbling in some spots but new buildings are being erected, demonstrating the optimism of its citizens. It has seen many governments and ensuing changes. The present city is warm, welcoming and from a visitor's eyes, balanced and prosperous.

Next stop, Jerusalem..Shalom

What the...???

Cusses..they are everywhere in our household conversations. Nary a shalt-shaker is passed without a curse. It wasn't always this way. When the kids were little, we were very careful not to utter obscene or aggressive language. The house was full of "dangs" and "shucks", and we sounded like purple dinosaurs!

This all changed as our children hit adolescence. To be cool parents, we would allow the occasional s-word and we would use universal hand language to let hostile drivers know what we thought of their road-side behaviour. As our teens grew to be young adults our swearing escalated alarmingly.

There has been an incredible pleasure to be able to utter these illicit words with our children - it's like sharing a forbidden treasure. Or perhaps like dancing, when it has been prohibited (think "Foot Loose").

We are not alone in this transition. A friend called the other day, who also has young-adult children. Even my ears were burning after our discussion (hard to believe, I know).

The one downside is, of course, that our ten-month old is learning our bad-ass vocabulary. I'm afraid his first word will be something entirely inappropriate. What to do? Restrain our liberal ways...?? Nah, I don't think so, it's been fun. I think our best course of action is to let the "little man" know that some words can only be uttered by adults. It will give him something to look forward to.

I can hardly wait until our very uptight, judgmental and non-cooperative MD asks me what Liam's first word was. If he utters admonishments, I'll tell him to "Shut the Front Door!"

Graduation #2!

I noticed it first when her hand reached for mine. It was no longer tiny and the grip was remarkably firm. Yes, she was only two, but I knew then that I would not have to worry. This daughter of mine would soar through life, confident and ready to conquer. What I couldn't foresee was her startling intellect.

These signs came later:

• When she was four, she debated with a fellow pre-schooler where babies come from. (The teachers had to distract her from yelling out the correct anatomical terms.)
• When she was seven, she asked me how light bulbs worked. She wasn't satisfied with my clever answer about flicking on the switch.
• At nine, she recited her times-tables all the way across the province of Quebec (and back again).
• At 11 she became far too interested in worms. Oh yes, I discovered them in her pockets.
  
• At 13 she memorized a surprisingly long Shakespeare soliloquy and recited AND recited it.
  
• At 15 she was kicked out of math class for correcting the teacher (now that's discipline!)
  

This is just a partial list of her cleverness and to cap-it off, today Elyse will graduate from high school with honours. She will stride across that stage, shake hands without hesitation and smile down at us momentarily. Then her eyes will once again gaze on some unknown horizon.

Today, isn't the benchmark of Elyse's progress or her independence, she hit these long ago. Rather, today may be one of the last where I get the privilege of sharing her glory. That tiny hand has long outgrown mine and is itching to greet the world.

Good luck my beautiful girl and congratulations. My hand will be always waiting to hold yours again.

The nine-month nap

Similar to sleeping beauty, I have now awoken—my prince is nine-month Liam, who has learned how to give kisses. Yes I have a son, and yes it’s been nine months since I last blogged (shall I say some Hail Mary’s?). The bottom line is, I’m back!

A quick recap of the labour and the first nine months:

• Giving birth was horrific: Note to all moms-to-be. If your hospital has an 80 percent epidural rate and delivers more than 10 babies/day, there will be little support for a “natural” labour. Take some Lamaze or hypnotherapy courses, or hire a doula. You won’t regret the cost!

• The first few weeks: Sleepless nights aren’t really that bad. Who really needs sleep? Certainly not your newborn.

• Six-week colic: Three-hour crying bouts led us to “How to have the best baby on the block”. Baby-whisperer guru book that works.

• Nursing: Ah, the pleasure and pain. Was it because I am an older mom that this was so difficult? Three bouts of mastitis; six teeth in five months; seven months of constant attachment and presto it was all done.

Who is that gorgeous happy baby?

At nine-months Liam continues to bring us daily joy. He coos, babbles, laughs with glee, screeches with delight, eats EVERYTHING, crawls, creeps, snores through the night, and loves to be cuddled. Sounds like an older man, I know. We are blessed

As for the rest of our family:

• Our oldest son completed his first year of University with flying colours – horrah!

• Our oldest daughter finished CEGEP (juniour college) and is traveling in Australia – “good on ya mate”!

• Our next oldest daughter aced her first year of CEGEP – rockin’ girl!

• Our youngest daughter will be graduating from high school with honours – way to merk-it!

• My husband recently celebrated is 50^th birthday – OMG!

• I have started working (can’t you tell?) and almost fit into my clothes.

LIFE IS GOOD

Ode to Family

Our baby boy only has one surviving grandparent, my father. This is the reality of getting knocked-up so late in life. However, as I learned a few weekends ago, our babe is blessed with a huge extended family.

A few months ago, my father said in passing that he was getting married. It wasn’t entirely unanticipated, but these things always take awhile to sink in.

“Do you want to come to BC for the wedding?” he asked.

“Oh, sure, all 300 lbs of me,” I replied. “Why not have it here in Montreal? I can arrange EVERYTHING.”

Oops, the words had left my lips without engaging my brain. Really, I did think it would be easy: A few dogs on the BBQ, some patio lanterns and voila a wedding….for a TEENAGER!

Thanks to the incredible help from my sibs, kids, husband and friends, a beautiful ceremony with exotic catering was held in our backyard. Due to my “condition," I unbelievably took on the role of dictator - a task I’m not at all familiar with. Family scuttled and scurried under my watchful eye and all worked out wonderfully. (I am sure that I could have closed my eyes and it would have been equally fantastic.)

Throughout the whole weekend, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews and sons and daughters always stopped to make sure the babe and I were OK. There was much tummy rubbing and anticipation of our big day.

Our babe may only have just one grandfather, but he recently acquired and new grandmother. With her, his three sisters, one brother, nine cousins and many aunts and uncles, I need never worry that he’ll be alone.

Class of 2009

Allow me to tangent away from the growing babe inside me, to my daughter, my first- born, who today is graduating from high school.

The last 12 years have gone by in a flash. I remember fondly the pigtails and missing teeth, and less so, the stress over take-home projects that seemed to have no point.

Throughout the years I heard recitations of competitive speeches, Shakespeare soliloquies and French poems. I saw reincarnations of famous explorers and dignitaries and even had Cleopatra for breakfast! Our traveling music transitioned from Barney, to the Spice Girls, Backstreet Boys has ended up with rappers who go by initials only??

I may not remember well all the specifics, but I will not forget, that my daughter met each challenge with a smile, humour and the utmost of poise. She is a solid friend, excellent student and exceptional sister.

Today, I am a proud mother and I will cheer like no other when my daughter walks across the stage to receive her diploma.

Today, my beautiful blue-eyed girl has earned her wings - I know she will soar.

Congratulations Acacia and all others who are graduating this year!

Salt no, yoga yes

I saw the slight grimace as my Doc read out my recent blood pressure. “144/90…Hmm, this may be a concern,” she said.

These are words no one likes to hear from their Doc.

Did she not know that to get to her office, I had to drive through Montreal traffic for ONE hour, fight for parking and then wait for two elevators? No duh, my heart was racing and my blood pressure was high.

She wasn’t sympathetic to my excuses. “You’ll have to monitor this frequently,” she said seriously. “If your blood pressure spikes again, I want you to come in IMMEDIATELY.”

Ok, this got my attention. What’s the big deal…??

Well, it turns out that high blood pressure in pregnancy is an indicator of preeclampsia (www.babycenter.ca/pregnancy/complications/pre-eclampsia), a disorder that occurs during pregnancy and affects both mom and babe. This condition can range from mild to severe and causes a reduction in the flow of blood to the placenta. Obviously this can have huge consequences for the baby. Guess who is at most risk for developing this condition? Yup, moms who are over 35.

What does this mean for me? I am hopeful I can manage this new situation on three levels - diet, exercise and stress.

Diet In addition to giving up some of my very favourite food-groups, such as Cosmos, sushi and salami, I will now give up caffeinated coffee, and Doritos. (Once this little man comes out I will have the most amazing party!)

Stress Deadlines? What deadline? I will try my utmost to keep work in focus, not take on any new projects, and not fuss too much about deadlines. (There go all my clients.)

Exercise I’m not running for obvious reasons, so I have discovered pre-natal yoga. So far it’s not too challenging, I can still stand on one leg. It does work, as the other day I fell asleep and woke up with the class staring at me.

I am hopeful “Christine’s plan” of remaining calm and relaxed will help lower my blood pressure, the other options aren’t too appealing.

I’ll keep you posted.

Until next time, Om.

Speed: Whoa when did it get so blurry?

Has it really been more than three weeks since I posted last? It seems that the world is moving in fast-forward, while I gaze at my protruding belly button in amazement. Those around me also seem to be in permanent rave-mode.

I am usually a fast-mover, groaning while stuck behind a throng of tourists, impatient while waiting for someone to find the exact change, and loving the feel of loping with my pup. Lately, however, I’ve noticed that I’m being left behind.

It was first noticeable, walking with my teens, who told me to “stop dawdling.” (Teens in a hurry??) Next, came the three-flight sprint up stairs with a work colleague. While taking two stairs at a time, she babbled nonstop and didn’t notice I was slumped at the first landing. (I now understand the purpose of elevators.) Finally, there was a gallop with a neighbour, who normally strolls. She left me on a park bench panting.

Did I miss the memo to drink six red-bulls each morning?

Be kind to your big-bellied friends remember to SAUNTER while they waddle.

Next time it's first class, baby

I have just returned from a cross-Canada trip, which should have been fantastic right? That's what I originally thought. Visions of lounging in bed until noon, drinking non-alcoholic beverages until the late hour of 9 p.m. and eating sugar free bonbons, popped into my head when I made the arrangements. To my dismay it turns out traveling when pregnant is not all it's "knocked up" to be. As I'm into lists, I have compiled a handy one, as reminder for the next time.

CZ's list of how to max your traveling pleasure (or just get to your destination without tears)

1. Taking a taxi
When booking the taxi, make sure to inquire about the driver. e.g. does he really have his license? Sometimes, taxi drivers seem confused. The sidewalk is NOT for cars and red DOES means stop - ideally, a full stop by actually applying pressure to the breaks
Also it's good to ask the taxi company about seat belts - e.g. does it accommodate a person bigger than the average Italian model?

2. Don't bother with the suitcase
Packing is always difficult. When you are pregnant and in denial concerning your massive girther, this is especially difficult. Wearing your husband's sweats is simply not the solution, nor is borrowing your father's jackets. These are men's clothes and no matter how they've been accessorized - they will always be. I suggest not packing at all and once you arrive, whine to your family about lacking a wardrobe. If you're lucky, they will buy you a new one. (It worked for me.)
In addition, suitcases are HEAVY... no-one cares that you are pregnant, except the aforementioned family. The ticket agent just looked bored when I tried to lift my luggage on the platform. "Oh," she said. "That is almost over the limit.".. at that stage, I had reached mine.

3. Phone the airline
Are airlines are hiring only second-year engineering students to design their crafts? How else can you explain the discrepancy between number of seats and seat capacity? (i.e. there is simply NOT enough room for all those people) Phone the airline and book your flight on a really, really old plane - maybe even a Hercules. I've heard they have a lot of space.

4. Don't ask for cranberry juice
I know the Doc said cranberry juice is good for you and babe, but they don't have it. The attendant will look at you like you're a celeb-wannabe and never come back. I know they have it the section behind the curtain, but don't even try to question why.

5. Don't ever stand in the aisle
First off, the belly doesn't fit and if you do manage to squeeze into the aisle, you certainly won't be able to turn around. Most importantly however, this will encourage the passengers to play the newest game, "Push the Pregnant Person". It's ugly and beyond description.

My advice?
Find a sugar daddy and fly in his personal jet. For me, it's too late, but there may be hope for you dear reader.

I guess it's true, I really am knocked up

Despite the tests and confirmations, there comes an "ah-ha" moment - a time when one actually believes they are pregnant. After nearly five months, I have finally attained this state of awareness. What was the pivotal moment? Well, there were a few, which I share below:

• A total stranger, rather than asking what diet I'm on, asked to touch my belly
• I managed to down TWO plates of spaghetti, while the rest of the family was still putting Parmesan on theirs
• Consequently, I gained TWO pounds overnight
• Despite excellent hygienic practises, the dark mark on my belly wouldn't be removed. This is of course, is the linea nigra, a dark line on the skin that runs down the abdomen starting from the belly button. The experts say this is caused by the increased amounts of hormones circulating around, which in turn, leads to an increase in the the production of the skin-pigmentation protein, melanin. Although this is very exciting, these hormones are also the ones giving me the latest term of endearment, "the crazy pregnant lady".

With that I leave you...

Things NOT to ask a pregnant woman

Although well intentioned, I had many questions about our imminent arrival. Some questions were heart-felt, others were mind-blowing. Here's my list of questions NOT to ask a pregnant woman, for those of you who would like to keep her a friend and stay alive.

Questions NOT to ask:

• Was this a planned pregnancy? (Are you kidding? After 10 years of being together, do you think this just miraculously happened?)
  
• What will happen to all your partying? (Umm, did I mention I am OVER 40? - partying for me is a pair of PJs, a movie and a glass of wine)
• Aren't you worried about lack of sleep? (Ha! Waiting up for teens to roll home and leading a stressful life, doesn't allow for much sleep. At least now I will have something to occupy my mind.)
• Are you worried about getting fat? (I will not be gaining weight because of too many twinkies...well maybe a pound or two)
• Aren't you going to miss working (yah, sure...)
  
• Aren't you going to miss the wine and cosmos? (well this MAY be a valid question)
• Have you lost your mind? (Ok, ok, this may be valid too)

My advice: If you can't be enthusiastic, maybe consider asking a generic question, like

1. How's the dog?
2. When do you think the weather will warm up?
3. Do you think the Canadiens will ever win a game?
   

Recap

It all began when "he" said yes. Not to marriage, but to trying to conceive a child. This may not seem to be so momentous, but considering we were both over 40 and have a house full of teenagers, it was a BIG DEAL. Some have said, it was a brain malfunction.

After a few false starts, and much pessimism from friends and family, biology won. The test was positive and I was happily on my way to becoming a new/old mom.

Although I have yet to experience any pregnancy-associated illness, the path has been less than easy:

• The fear of losing our little miracle has been overwhelming
• Associating each ache and pain as a signal of miscarriage has been a crazy-making pastime
• Dealing with the barrage of information supplied by the Internet may eventually qualify me as an MD
• New medical technology has offered too many options

He's a boy
The amnio, was the first grueling procedure I have endured. Despite the expertise of our obstetrician, it was uncomfortabe and the wait for results was too intense. The upside is that we now know our wee one is a boy and perfectly healthy. Once again, biology is working in our favour.

I believe our son will be an excellent soccer player. At 16 weeks, I already experienced his kicks. At 18 weeks, these keep me up at night. Unfortunately, his energy drains mine, and I am currently consigned to bed rest. I am hopeful this is temporary, as I do have those teens to feed, water and nag.

Until next time..