Tag Archives: inner thoughts

Daddy Quotes

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A father is someone that holds your hand at the fair makes sure you do what your mother says holds back your hair when you are sick brushes that hair when it is tangled because mother is too busy lets you eat ice cream for breakfast but only when mother is away he walks you down the aisle and tells you everything is gonna be Ok! ~ Anonymous

The father of a daughter is nothing but a high-class hostage. A father turns a stony face to his sons, berates them, shakes his antlers, paws the ground, snorts, runs them off into the underbrush, but when his daughter puts her arm over his shoulder and says, “Daddy, I need to ask you something,” he is a pat of butter in a hot frying pan. ~ Garrison Keillor

It is impossible to please all the world and one’s father. ~ Jean de La Fontaine

Parents are often so busy with the physical rearing of children that they miss the glory of parenthood, just as the grandeur of the trees is lost when raking leaves. ~ Marcelene Cox

Be kind to thy father, for when thou were young, who loved thee so fondly as he? He caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue, and joined in thy innocent glee. ~ Margaret Courtney

All fathers are invisible in daytime; daytime is ruled by mothers and fathers come out at night. Darkness brings home fathers, with their real, unspeakable power. There is more to fathers than meets the eye. ~ Margaret Atwood, Cat’s Eyes

The father is always a Republican toward his son, and his mother’s always a democrat. ~ Robert Frost

My son and daughter tell me where they are in very different ways. I know where my son is because I hear him. I know where my daughter is because she tells me. ~ Anonymous

A father is always making his baby into a little woman. And when she is a woman he turns her back again. ~ Enid Bagnold

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Little Look-A-Likes

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For most people, they either look like one parent or the other.  The Princess is her Daddy’s mini look-a-like.  And after today’s 3-D ultrasound, our Rainbow is too.  Not too long ago, I had a dream where the Rainbow was big, had dark brown hair and looked like me and for a while I thought that maybe it was a premonition of what was to come.  But when I saw his handsome face come on the screen, I burst out laughing because it was startling how much he looked like his Dad and sister.

As a kid and even now I joke that I have reject genes.  I’m short like my Dad, blind like my Mother, and my Dad’s wicked awful knees.  And so after today, I made the joke of saying “I now know it’s true that I have reject genes.  Even in utero, my kids are like “No Thanks.”  LOL But it’s not all bad, my children are both beautiful.

Damn Those Cravings

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It happens every night at 8:30.  Boredom kicks in.  And then comes the cravings.  I have been really good at pushing them away and not giving in.  But they are persistent.  I’m craving ice cream.   Delicious ice cream.  I try and distract myself from thinking about it.

I do the dishes.  Hmm, the bowls are clean, what better way to dirty them than with ice cream.

I fold and refold the Rainbow’s clothing.  I organize and reorganize his drawers.  Then I see the bib with an ice cream cone on it.

I could always go for a walk.  And then again Baskin Robbins is only a 5 minute walk from our home.

I read a book.  What would make reading this book better? Eating ice cream.

I watch TV show.  And of course I watch the Food Network and what’s on?  Ice cream.

Hubby and I have a conversation and without fail it always turns into a game of Rock Paper Scissors as to who is doing the ice cream run.

Even as we speak, I am writing a post and what is it about…ICE CREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Birth Plans

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I am now 32 weeks pregnant now and the birth planning has begun.  From day one, I knew I wanted to attempt a VBAC.  I had an emergency C-section with the Princess and I would be lying if I said it was an enjoyable experience.  A botched epidural lead to an improper block which caused me to feel the doctors cut me open and ultimately being put under.  It took hours to come out of the anaesthesia and I wasn’t able to hold my baby until she was over 5 hours old.

When I became pregnant with the Princess, I perhaps foolishly assumed that I would deliver naturally, no drugs and tough it out like many of the women in my family.  My sister, who is a nurse, warned me not to become so rigid in my birth plans in case something were to happen and things didn’t turn out the way I planned.  Those prophetic words still hang with me today.  Needless to say, I was devastated by having a C-section.  That isn’t to say that I’m not grateful for the Princess being born safely.  It upset me that I had to stay in the hospital for 4 days, that I gave in and had an epidural, that I didn’t deliver my baby the way “nature intended.”  I felt like a failure.  And it’s not that anyone else made me feel that way, it was a pressure and expectation I put on myself.   Somehow I had convinced myself that I was in control, that I would labour and deliver my baby.

Now that we near our due date, I am finding myself having those expectations again.  And I am fully aware that my ability to deliver naturally is only 50/50.  Not really great odds.  Perhaps it is out of fear of another botched C-section (despite going to a different doctor and hospital) and the fact that this pregnancy has been a relative breeze compared to my pregnancy with the Princess that gives me the unrealistic hope that this time, this time I’ll do it.  With a  VBAC however, there is a chance of uterine rupture and often doctors will suggest an epidural in case a C-section is necessary.   Also, if I have to be induced, like I was with the Princess, a C-section will be the only option.  I can say with certainty I really really do not want a C-section.  I’ve already spoken with my doctor and I have made it quite clear that if I do have to, I want to be out.  He is aware of what happened last time and seems to be in agreement.  At the same time, I have to weigh the possibility of uterine rupture (which is rare) and the consequences of that.  My doctor seems confident that I am a good candidate for a VBAC and I may get my wish.  I am trying my best not to get my hopes up and just take things as they come, but things are easier said than done.

Another First

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I woke up with a gray hair right on the top of my head.  I’m only 27 and thought to myself “I’m too young for this.”  But after this first, I know why.  The Princess was invited to a birthday party today and like all the other parties, parents are welcome to stay.  Not this one.  I was not at all prepared for it.  In all the correspondence I had with the Mom, not once did she mention that parents were not to stay.  So when the Princess and I arrived, she took the Princess’ jacket and informed me pick up time was at 3:30.  I must have had a bizarre look on my face. I choked a little bit and then went and said my goodbye’s to the Princess and informed her I would be back later.  I walked outside and immediately called Hubby.

“They won’t let me stay.  I don’t feel right about this.  She’s only 4,” I stammered, holding back the tears.

He agreed that it was a little weird but said she’d probably be ok.

So like a crazy woman, I went to the coffee shop across the street and watched through the window.  I constantly watched my clock and then made periodical walk-by’s.  In my opinion, 4 years old is not old enough to be left alone.  I’m sure I looked crazy but it’s my job to keep her safe.

At 3:15, I picked her up early and she was just fine.  So despite walking up and down the street, holding back the tears, the Princess survived her first birthday party without me.

A Reflection

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Sometimes there are days or dates that make us stop and reflect on things in our life.  Today is my Emery’s angelversary.  Last year I bawled hysterically, locking myself in the bedroom to weep as it had been a year since we lost her.  This year I decided I would not cry, not that I’m not sad or hurting, but that in some small way, she made me stronger.  I sit here typing this post completely grateful for all my life experiences, good and bad, because they have made me into the person I am today.  Sometimes through death we come to realize and appreciate how precious life really is.

I appreciate those in my life more now than before.  Especially my Hubby.  I know I gush about him quite a bit on here, but man, I am very very lucky to have him.  It’s almost been 7 years since we first met and as time goes on we become stronger and stronger.  He is my best friend, the person I can rely on and no matter what happens in our life, I know at the end of it, he will still be there.  He loves me, and I mean really loves me.  There are days when I’m absolutely spent, hair a mess, no make up, wearing nothing but track pants and a bummy old t-shirt, haven’t showered and stressed to the max and I will sometimes catch him smiling at me.  And not the smile that means he’s laughing at me and how I look, but smiling because he loves me.  He has seen me at my worst, held me when I’ve cried, laughed at our best and for those simple reasons is why I love him more than I have ever loved anyone.  He is a good man and I hope that everyone can find someone who makes them as happy as he makes me.

Then there are my children.  Oh my Princess, what a character.  I have watched her grow for the last 4 1/2 years and I am so proud of the little person she is becoming.  Nothing can make me feel better than when I’m lying in bed and she climbs in and wraps her little arms around my neck and snuggles in close and dozes off to sleep.  Her tiny hands, dimples, wild curls and long lashes, oh I could stare at them for hours.  And now that we are anxiously awaiting our Rainbow, who lets me know he is growing big and strong with each kick and flip, I can say that being a parent is both exhausting and rewarding at the same time.  My children are my everything and I cannot wait to watch them grow and experience all their firsts.  I am in love and loved, and for that I am very grateful.

My Emery has taught me how to be resilient, how to heal, and most of all, how to pick myself back up and carry on.  There isn’t ever a day that she doesn’t cross my mind and maybe that is her way of saying “I’m still here.”   So today I will not mourn her passing, but celebrate her life, no matter how short it was, because after all she “was the one who heard what my heartbeat sounds like from the inside.”

Holy Hormones Batman!

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I am fully aware that hormones are totally normal during pregnancy but OH MY GOD this is ridiculous.  If I’m not laughing, I’m crying.  I can burst into a big case of the giggles then turn bat shit crazy the next second.  Even at some points I have had to stop myself and say “Oh my, I am acting like a crazy person, what the hell?”

Hubby has taken the unfortunate brunt of these hormonal tirades and missed all this with the Princess as we didn’t move in until I was 7 months pregnant.  I’m really not trying to be crazy but I feel some days I have little to no control.  The other night Hubby and I decided to watch a movie and “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” was on.  It wasn’t his first choice and I’ll be the first to admit that it won’t be winning any Oscars, but it was good for some laughs…and tears.  I have to say Elizabeth Bank’s character was my favourite.  She’s super funny and when she goes to the baby show and gives her speech, I was dying of laughter.  My favourite part;

“Gar Bear, I’m sorry, all I want to do is punch you in the face.” Priceless.

At this point I break into this awkward mix of laughing and crying at the same time.  Hubby is just staring at me with complete shock and awe.

“Maybe this wasn’t the best movie to watch right now,” he says patting my hips lightly.

And I wish this was the only time I lost my mind.  On the weekend I went to buy yarn so I could knit myself a scarf.  Anyone who lives remotely close to the Greater Toronto Area is aware that scarves are more of a fashion accessory than an actual need but I wanted to knit a scarf.  After I was done shopping, I decided that I wanted McDonald’s.   I sat by myself, enjoying the delectable nastiness in all its greasy wonder when some so-called “health nut” approaches me to inform me of the complete and utter mistake I am making.

“Do you know what that is doing to your body and your unborn child at this very moment?”

My teeth are clenched, burger grease coating my lips and a dirty burger in my hand.  My gawddddd, why today?

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“No but you are eating garbage and I thought I should inform you.”  Cue my sarcastic wit.

“Shit, you’re telling me this isn’t Jugo Juice and this isn’t a vegan burger with soylicious dressing?” I announce.  It’s time to get to the point. “Listen, I am aware when I walked through those golden arches that what I would be ingesting is probably the worst thing for me next to nuclear waste or a bullet, but guess what? I don’t care.  I don’t eat this everyday and I am not going to beat myself up about it.  I’m hungry and wanted a burger.  I know this burger right here has been sitting under a heating lamp and is likely made from a hormone injected, cloned cyclops mix of pork, poultry and beef.  I also know that by drinking this coke, that it is turning my blood into jell-o.  I made the conscious, informed adult decision to purchase it and stuff it in my mouth.”

“It’s going to kill you, you’re eating poison,” she tried to justify.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, everyone dies.  I can guarantee that 100% of the people in this entire restaurant will die at some point or another.  You will too.  So continue to eat your goji berries and organic pomegranate juice and I’m just going to go back to eating this burger in peace and not bother complete strangers who cannot stand insufferable know it all’s.   Okie dokie artichokie?”

Usually I would simply nod and turn away but I feel that if you walked into a McDonald’s for the sole purpose of informing its patrons of the horrendous nature of its food, you are really asking for it.  Not to mention you decided to inform a hormonal pregnant woman of her food choices.