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.