of family and other open wounds.

I'm having a hard time lately. My parents have decided they're furious with me for reasons I don't understand and don't think are as serious as they do. All my life I've tried not to make them angry except for a few times when I was a teenager when I pretended I didn't care. But I do care. I still care. I hate it when they decide they're not speaking to me. It makes me feel like I have a hole in the center of who I am.

They're not bad people. They work hard and they try hard, but it's like their idea of who I am supposed to be never added up to who I actually am. And every time they're reminded of this they get angry. This time it's different. This time, I'm a parent too. Granted, they've been doing it for twenty four years longer than I have, but I still know what it feels like to love a child. I know that Leila and I will eventually have disagreements, even fights, but I also know that my job is to love her no matter what. My love for Leila is boundless and unconditional, and I will try to remember that at all times.

My mother's father, my grandfather, would occasionally get mad and her and inform her he wasn't speaking to her and I remember how it made her feel. She would be so sad and empty. I remember feeling protective of her and angry at him for hurting my mother. I wonder if she remembers this. I wonder what it is my parents see when they think of me. It's taken me years and years not to see myself as deeply flawed and awful. But I know I'm not. Years ago, my counsellor made me draw up a list of ten things I liked about myself. It took me hours, and I'm pretty sure one of them was, "I like my impeccable taste in Star Treks, TNG forever!"

I want to make peace with my parents. I want to prevent this from happening in the future. I want Leila to know her grandparents. But if I can't  have that, then I want to find the strength to let go, to know that I am good person whether or not my parents tell me.

turns out those Christians were onto something...

So it turns out that getting married with a baby is really complicated, who knew right? It was a spectacular day and I'm so happy I got to share it with my friends and family. So many people put in a little something extra to make it magic. The food was amazing, my entourage of hair and makeup were wonderful and I couldn't believe it when my friend Kate showed up via seaplane. Kudos to all those who helped with her conspiracy, it really made my day.

The following is brief survival guide to getting married with a baby:

1. Make sure to have one grandmother on hand at all times, two is better.
2. Wear a dress that you can comfortably attach a baby carrier over.
3. Plan on carrying either baby or a bouquet, not both.
4. Find an easy access dress for nursing or you will look like a contortionist while you're trying to feed your baby.
5. Do not put brightly coloured flowers in your hair, this will only encourage your baby to pull at your hair.
6. Do allow saintly relatives to take your screaming child away from you for a few minutes while you eat dinner.
7. Acknowledge that when someone says, "what a lovely dress" they are probably talking about your baby's.
8. Do not expect to be carried over the thresh hold while you are carrying baby and your husband follows behind like a dutiful Sherpa with his arms full of all of the baby's paraphernalia.
9. Do get a two room suite for your honeymoon, this will mean you can actually have a conversation after 8pm.
10. Don't let this list stop you from getting married with a baby, it is still a totally wonderful and rewarding experience.

The latest in cake cutting accessories.

five monthday (only a few days late)

Dear Leila,

This past Saturday you turned five months old! We were at your grandparent's house on Pender Island hence the belated letter. You had fun there though. You've decided that with enough introduction people who aren't me or your dad are ok and are allowed to hold you. We left you alone with them for a couple of hours so we could go canoeing (we would have taken you, but you hate your life jacket and cry the whole time), and I was so worried about you we came home early, but when we got back you were all smiles sitting on your grandad's lap.

It's so strange to see my parents with you and get the smallest of insights into what it must have looked like when I was your age. I feel like I am saving up all these anecdotes that will become the stories of who you were as a baby, stories you will carry around the rest of your life, but that you will have no real memory of.

You're doing all sorts of cool baby things these days. You can sit on your own for a few minutes now. You're also really really excited about your jolly jumper and bounce away happily until you're bored and need to move on to the next activity. You still don't sleep all that well, but we're working on that. You've actually started doing this somewhat cute somewhat frustrating thing where once you're asleep you wake up as soon as I put you down in your crib, so I have to pick you back up and hold you in my arms until your as limp as a noodle and then I can carefully put you back in your own bed. It's a little hard if I need to get something done, but there's something really lovely about your solid warmth in my arms so I try to have a book handy for those extra couple of minutes it takes you to fall deeply asleep.

You've really turned my world upside down little girl, but I love you so much more than I ever knew I could. You're a rose, you're a pearl, you're the spin on my world.

Love you always,

Mom

Sitting with Sophie!

rhonda ross

Tom's family is wonderful. Really and truly, I would marry him for his family alone, the fact that he's lovely too is just an added bonus. Rhonda, Tom's mom, just left to go home to Ontario after a ten day visit. I'm not sure I can even explain how sad this makes me.

She stayed with us right after Leila was born and when she left I felt like a limb was missing. Who was going to hold Leila while I showered or tied my shoes? Who was going to bring over apple juice without me even asking? This last week has been so much easier with her around. She went with me to get Leila's shots.  We went grocery shopping together. She held the baby while I cooked supper. She told me I was doing a good job. She rocked the baby to sleep when I could do nothing to calm her. She made me feel like what I was doing was important, and that I was doing it well.

Rhonda and a sleeping Leila in Kelowna this weekend 

after she took her for a walk so I could take a nap.

Rhonda and Ray will be back in August, but in the meantime I feel like I'm back to doing it alone. I know I can call and we can email each other, but it's not the same. There's no way for her to hold the baby over the internet. 

It's not just that Rhonda is helpful and loving to me, she loves Leila more than almost anything on the planet. She likes to watch Leila take a bath and do all her little playing things. She adores her granddaughter so much. It makes me feel like a part of something bigger and better. Tonight we all sat on the bed and Rhonda read Leila Good Night Moon. I didn't think it was possible to love anyone as much as you love your children, but seeing Rhonda with Leila I get the sense that maybe you get to feel that incredible, all-consuming love again when you have grandchildren. 

Today Rhonda was telling me a story about a man who was complaining that although it was sunny right then the weather forecast said it was going to rain, to which she responded, "well isn't it lovely that it is so warm and sunny out right now!" So I guess instead of crying over how much I miss Rhonda, I should be grateful to have such a kind, generous and loving mother in law. And I am. Her love and support keep me going.

the good, the bad and the sleepy

When I was in high school my dad used to wake me up every morning by saying, "there's good news and there's bad news, which do you want first?" I would croak something about "the good" and he would answer, "well the good news is that it's morning, the bad news is that you have to get up."

Right now I feel like that. The good news is, I've reintroduced coffee to my life. Yes, the caffeinated kind.  The bad news is I need it desperately. I didn't drink coffee throughout my pregnancy, and except from a stolen sip from Tom here and there, I haven't had any since she was born. This morning I sat down and drank a whole cup, and it was magnificent. I feel like I could conquer the world. I was actually going to go for a walk but Tom went out with my keys by accident. I feel like it can't  be worse for Leila than having her mother who is so sleep deprived she can't function normally without bursting into tears.

The bad news is that Leila has decided she does not need sleep. The past couple of nights she has refused to go to sleep before 10pm and then has slept for a couple of hours and has woken up thrashing around like a mad baby. Rinse and repeat every half an hour. Last night Tom drove her to Squamish and back so I could get some sleep. She was hysterical because she'd only taken one short nap and had refused all my attempts to get her to sleep. Around 8pm I was holding her on the bed rocking her back and forth sobbing, "I just want you to be happy baby, I love you so much, please just be happy." Fortunately, Tom stepped in told me to go to bed, picked her up and took her down to the car.

She did wake up in the middle of the night again, somewhere around 1am. She was kicking and thrashing and trying to nurse, but then pulling her head away. I tried swaddling her and she just wriggled out of it like an pissed-off caterpillar. I've never been angry with her before. I always manage to divert my frustration onto poor, long-suffering Norton or Tom or a pillow.When she is freaking out I will snap at one of them, but last night in the middle of the night I was furious with her. I picked her up and I was taking her out of our room and I was going to put her in the cradle in the living room and leave her there even if she cried. I didn't care. As soon as I put her down in the cradle (and woke up a bit more) I realized what was going on, she was drawing her legs up to her chest and then kicking them out like she does when she's gassy. My anger evaporated and I scooped her up and took her over to the couch where I held her on her stomach and patted her back until she was gas free. Then I made some "stomach calming tea" (fennel, cammomile, and peppermint) that is suppose to pass through my milk into her stomach and help her relax. After an hour or so she'd pooped, eaten and was feeling much more pleased with life. I swaddled her up and again and brought her back to bed, where she fell asleep instantly.

It's hard somehow not feel angry when I don't know why she's upset. I would do anything for her, but I can't  do anything if I don't know what to do. Yesterday I missed Tom's mom so much. My mom is stuck in Iceland waiting for a flight home and there was seemingly no one I could call for advice on what to do. My friends with babies are all in the same boat as me, figuring out what works and what doesn't, and I really needed some sage grandmotherly advice. Even if it was just to tell me that, "this too shall pass."

The even better news is Tom's mom is coming for a visit in less than a month. When I am awake at night and can't fall back to sleep I count down the days until her next visit. Twenty-two, in case you were wondering.

A rare moment these days.