Our Holiday Prep.

Just wanted to add a little holidays update while I have the chance.

All parents find it hard to squeeze in everything they want to do during the holidays while juggling work, home, Christmas parties and shopping. And I think for most single parents it must be even more overwhelming to try to get the kids out for fun family time without that ever-important second pair of hands. Plus sometimes it can be pretty lonely to see all the other families when you're alone with your child, but Babe and I have been having a really great time making the most of Christmas activities this year.

I gotta say thank heavens I nannied for so long because it really helped me with the planning and implementation of family activities as a single parent so we don't end up overwhelmed, crazy-rushed or having a major meltdown halfway through.

Like most parents I've been trying to start holiday traditions with Babe, mainly because I want her to enjoy the same things I loved as a kid but also because I want to emphasize the activities and family fun of the holidays and downplay the gift mania of Christmas morning.

Of course, Babe's grandmother will thwart my attempts to reign in the volume of gifts she gets despite my ongoing protestations and tantrums (urgh, story for another day). But I think in order to keep the storage of toys to a manageable level I'm going to start following what I have heard a lot of other parents say they do and have Babe donate one of her old toys for each new toy she brings home. That sounds like a great way to give back and keep her room from looking like the children's section of Walmart on a December shopping weekend.

Also last year and this year I was/will be away from Babe on the actual day of Christmas so I'm trying to maximize all the other holiday fun we can have.

So last year my tradition attempts were interrupted because we had moved to Smithers and then we didn't stay long enough to have multiple Christmases there so we didn't establish anything we liked doing. I did make the effort to ensure we still donated to the local food bank and stuff but that was about it for Babe.

Now that we're back in the city we have picked up where we left off and this is the first year that Babe (now three years old) is really "getting" the whole deal.

SANTA VISITS:

So far Babe has met Santa three times this year. I didn't really plan it that way but there it is anyway. Our new apartment complex has a Christmas party every year and Santa showed up on the roof of the building and then came down to hand out candy canes. They also hosted a big bonfire and free hot drinks and a choir. It was really nice to have that sense of community within the complex.

Then I took Babe to Bright Nights Christmas Train at Stanley Park and Santa was there as well.

But because the other two Santa encounters were unexpected I still wanted her to have her dress-up photo taken with Santa so we had to make a special trip to the mall just for that.

Annnd...I believe she is going to see him again with her preschool class.

That's a lot of Santa.

However despite all these opportunities Babe has only barely managed to squeak out the word 'Barbie' one time because she gets completely star struck when she sees Santa. She can't wait to see him, she has tons of stuff she wants to tell him, she promises me this time she'll be her usual talkative self and let it all out but nope. Every time she just stands there with a big grin on her face, nodding like an idiot. It's actually pretty cute. And secretly I'm pleased because I'm hoping to really downplay the desire for a Barbie and if I have Santa promising her one every time they meet it's going to make my life more difficult.


CHRISTMAS LIGHTS:

I love them. Babe loves them.

As I mentioned above I took her last Friday night to the Christmas Train at Stanley Park. Of course it was me and every other family in the Lower Mainland. I had wanted to take her during the week when it would be less crowded but the weather didn't co-operate. So we went on the first dry day we got which happened to be a Friday evening and it was bussssy.

But the place is amazing. Everyone does an incredible job with the lights and I thought this year the displays inside the train grounds were the best ever. Of course we missed last year. But I've been going for years with kids I nannied or my little cousins and this year really did seem extra amazing.

Of course because it was a spur of the moment weather-induced decision I didn't pre-buy tickets (which I highly recommend). So when I arrived at 7pm with my three-year-old in tow we had to wait until 9:30 pm to actually ride the train. But we passed the time easily with that second visit to Santa, seeing all the lights, snacking on hot chocolate and popcorn and getting Babe's face painted (her most favorite thing).

In case this is your first year going be prepared, it's expensive, I think just Babe and my tickets for the train was almost $20 and with food, firefighter donations and her Santa photo it rounded the evening up to probably $40 for just the two of us. But it's mostly for charity and the kids love it.

I also took Babe to Canyon Lights at the Suspension Bridge. Another fantastic light display. We got in for free because we live right nearby in the same postal code but I think it's a pretty pricey deal otherwise.

I thought Babe would be terrified of the actual bridge but she loved it and we had to cross it again and again. It was a touching moment for me because I have a photo of my mom and I standing on the same bridge when I was teeny tiny.

Babe was a little fussy the evening we went but she did love walking through the treetop (Ewok-village-style) adventure and they had a live band playing Christmas music which Babe must've danced to for half an hour.

We also found a snail which was probably the highlight for Babe.

This week I'm hoping to take her for a drive to see some of the private home displays around the area.

DONATIONS:

Every year when I was growing up my mom would take my brother and I to the toy store to pick out a toy each to donate to the toy drive. And I've been doing it ever since. Sometimes I would take the kids I was nannying at the time and other years I just did it with a boyfriend or on my own.

So it is really important to me that I do it with Babe.

When it was just me I would usually try to pick out a teenager gift because they seem to be the least donated items at toy drives. But this year I know Babe will relate more to a toy and will likely get more out of choosing something she really wants for herself and then giving it away to someone else.


So we haven't actually done it yet this year because I've been mulling over the present-age thing, but hopefully we will check that job off the list this week.

But we talk about it lots and I've been trying to get her thinking about what she would like to give and preparing her for the concept of not getting to keep the toy she picks out. I'll let you know if any of my preparations manage to stave off a meltdown when it comes time to drop off the gift.

Another family tradition is stuffing stocking for the homeless. Again we missed last year because we were in Smithers but I shopped for a bunch of stuff for the stockings last week on my lunch breaks and on the weekend Babe and I met everyone else who was donating/helping and together our little group of family and friends stuffed 120/60 pairs of wooly socks with everything from toiletries and snacks to gift cards and warm toques. It's definitely my favorite part of the holidays and hopefully will be Babe's as she grows up. Although it's probably overly optimistic to expect her to like it more than getting gifts on Christmas Day. At least until she is a teenager.

And of course Babe has been completely into other little holiday things like her advent calendar, decorating the tree, mailing her letter to Santa and stringing lights up on the balcony. Doing all this stuff with her is a lot more fun now that she is old enough to start to understand it all but little enough to still find so much magic in it.

In the past I have done holiday baking with my mom and given out treats to family and friends but that completely stalled once Babe was born. I have the utmost respect for all the parents who manage to pull that off with kids running around. So far I haven't even considered trying.

Damn You, Sexy Nurse!

Babe just before her first Halloween. The day of she actually went out dressed as an owl.

Been looking for a Halloween costume for Babe.

I know this has been in the news around Vancouver lately but I'm getting so frustrated that of course I want to weigh in as well.

So,

To pretty much every Halloween store in the Lower Mainland:

Are you fucking kidding me with the options for little girl costumes this year?

Why are the only choices for my three-year-old daughter either a Disney princess or a sexy version of anything else?

When she was smaller I could get her the cute, warm, fluffy costumes from places like Old Navy. But now that she is bigger we have been looking at other ideas. And I am so disappointed.

Why is it that in order for my not even three-year-old daughter to dress up for Halloween she has to look sexy. Why can't we find a regular nurse costume? Why does it need to be Stripper-Nurse? For a fucking toddler.

Babe wanted to be a lady bug. I've been to a bunch of stores. But do you think I could find a regular chubby, round ladybug costume? Nope, not this year. (And I'm kicking myself because I actually do have exactly that in storage and can't find it.)

Every single one was ladybug wings with a short little dress attached. And when Babe's second choice was a cat I thought that would be easy peasy. But nope. Same shit. Every cat costume was cat ears, a tail and a tight-fitting leopard-print number usually reserved for the only clothed scene of a porno movie.

But one isle over, in the boy section - lots of realistic, warm and practical lion and tiger costumes.

I got so sick of seeing the same damn Disney Princess costumes and tight, short-skirted everything else costumes that I finally took her over to the boy section of the store. And I shouldn't have to do that. If she wants to be a doctor there should be an appropriate doctor costume in the girl section.

Because that is the whole point of a uniform isn't it? It's basically the same for everyone. Real firefighters, policemen, doctors and soldiers dress almost exactly the same, regardless of gender.

But not for Halloween. The boys can be regular doctors, the girls are limited to hooker-doctor. Like the only way a woman should perform surgery is if she still manages to look beautiful doing it and remembers to carve out time to perform blow-jobs in the evening.

At the last store we went to, the boy section had; dinosaurs, zoo animals, firemen, policemen, zombies and construction worker costumes. Perfectly age-appropriate and fairly close to realistic for $30. But the whole girl section was pink, sparkly and slutty. And the only costume that wasn't pink and slutty was an offensive First Nations costume...which was brown and slutty. And remember...I'm looking at costumes for THREE to FIVE year old girls.

Even the days of the ever-faithful, big round pumpkin costumes are gone. Or at least they're gone for the girls. The girls get Pretty Candy Corn Princess (which is just marketing for a striped orange miniskirt). Of course, in the boy section - regular fat pumpkin costumes.

And the sick thing is I can't even blame the stores because it's the consumer that's buying this crap. We continually overly sexualize women at younger and younger ages, hold them up to impossible standards of beauty, convince them early on that no matter how hard they work they'll have to look good doing it too and now a little girl can't even trick or treat on Halloween without freezing her buns off in some sick, booty-shorted version of a policeman costume.

And then we turn around and over-protect the same daughters because there's so many perverts out there who sexualize kids. Well, gee...I wonder why?

Over my cold, dead corpse is my daughter dressing up in anything even remotely sexy before high school, and definitely not before she enters kindergarten. For now, she can get something from the boy isle and I'll take another twenty minutes out of my busy day to talk her out of a panic because the costume is for boys and not girls.

And really? Like I said before, why is there even separate boy and girl sections for little kids costumes anyway. A doctor is a doctor, a dinosaur is a dinosaur and a pumpkin is a gourd for crying out loud!

Can't the kids isle just be for kids? Isn't Halloween supposed to be for kids?

It's supposed to be laughter and staying up late and ghost stories and candy - not JELL-O shooters and hooking up in a crotchless Catwoman suit behind your current elementary school.

Babe last year on Halloween in Smithers.

Another App Review.

So it's been a long time coming but I wanted to quickly review a few more kid apps for you all. Babe is nearing three years old now so of course her taste in games on my phone have changed since my last app review page.

Now some of you may be pro iPhones, iPads etc for little ones and some of you may not be. I myself go back and forth. But for anyone who does utilize technology babysitters from time to time, here's my top picks for Babe...or rather, Babe's top picks.

Top of my list is My PlayHome. I have no idea why this dollhouse app hasn't gotten more review attention online. There's some of course, but when I searched best apps for kids it didn't come up. I love this app. I originally downloaded the free Lite version but it only came with two rooms. Babe loved it so much I paid to download the full version which I think was about $3.00.

It's a full dollhouse and everything in the house is interactive. Babe can change CD's on the stereo, dress the people, flush the toilet, get food out of the refrigerator, put toothpaste on the toothbrushes and pull carrots out of the garden. This app has held her attention longer than any other and she has loved it for about a year now.

The only down side is everything is so tiny that on an iPhone younger kids may have some trouble manipulating everything. But now that Babe has it on her iPad it's much easier for her to use.

I also downloaded the DooDoo Pad for Babe about a year ago and she still uses it all the time. Not sure if the name is a lost in translation deal, but whatever.

I originally got it because I thought I would like it too and I was right. The pens are super cool with neon lights, beads and an array of colours and paper backgrounds.

You can also import photos and draw on them. Babe loves to colour all over pictures of herself and save them to my photos.

The Lite version is of course free and although it does have an ad banner at the top it doesn't seem to get accidently tapped as often as some of the others.

The only downside, and maybe that has changed since we downloaded it, is when you are drawing with one pen, every time you lift your finger the colour changes. So if you wanted to stay with pink you'd have to keep drawing a line, then undoing it until you rotated back to pink. But I did notice that there was a colour wheel when I looked at the newer version so maybe it's a little different than the one we have.

To compliment Babe's letter learning I chose the Endless Alphabet app. It got good reviews and they weren't kidding around when they made this bad boy. It's so awesome. But the makers know it too and the app will set you back a whopping $6.99.

It has a ton of words to learn and not just ones like; cat, dog, hug and pretty. The kids choose a word and the funky cartoon characters make a big mess and scramble the word up. Then the kids have to drag and drop all the letters back into place. As they drag a letter the app makes the sound that the letter makes. Then once they have fit all the letters back into place the voice says the word, then shows a little cartoon of what the word means and explains the definition to the child.

There are so many funny characters and interesting sounds that Babe can spend a long time working on her letters with this app.

The only downside that I see is she can place the letters back into their spot in any order she wants. Meaning, if the word is BELLOW, Babe can place the LL's first, then the W in it's place and the B last. I would prefer if she were learning how to spell the word out in order from left to right.


Babe likes puzzle games, we have tried a few over the last year. But so far her favorite by far has been the Shape Builder app. It was a good buy at $.99.

It's very simple. Colourful shapes scrambled up, drag them into place and it becomes a picture of something. It has numbers, letters and images to fit together.

It doesn't keep Babe preoccupied for as long as some of the others but she keeps coming back to it.

Also for some reason, because the shapes are random splotches that only reveal the real picture once they are in place, some of the shapes frighten her. I have no idea why or what they look like to her but once in awhile she gets to a puzzle that she says is scary and she wants to skip to the next page. But that's probably just specific to my precious little weirdo.

Both of us LOVE the Nighty Night app. The pictures are really cool with a combination of realistic textures and cartoon characters, kind of like the Little Big Planet video game. The app is $2.99 which is pricy for a kid app but I would buy it again if I had to.

A soothing male voice starts with an intro about everyone going to sleep in town but says there are still lights on at the farm house. Then Babe has to turn off all the lights in the farm house to put all the animals to bed.

Again, it's interactive so whatever she touches makes noise and she loves going through the house and putting the animals to sleep (just for the night, it's not a euthanize the farm animals kind of game).

The end has a little girl waving out her window and Babe finds that part really intriguing. She always waves back.

This app is part bedtime story and part play and it's very calming. No bright, flashing lights or loud sounds. Just farm animal noises and lullaby music. A good short game to play at the end of the day to calm your child down.

And that's it for now folks. Check out some of these apps and let me know what your child thought. And of course let me know if you have any I should be checking out.

Square One. Again.

I've always found throwing rocks in the water very therapeutic,  I guess it's genetic.
Or maybe it's just fun.

So readers, I'm sure you've been up nights worrying about where we are and what we are doing :P

Full circle. We are back in Vancouver, ironically at almost the exact same time I had originally planned on returning when I set out for the North.

Everything feels new...again.

We moved from the North to North Van. I've never lived on the North Shore before so that's all new.

We are settling into our new apartment. It's all unpacked, save for a couple boxes that I just can't seem to face. Maybe hauling the last of the cardboard to the recycling makes it all real? Maybe it's just laziness.

I'm back to working out excessively and running. It seems to be my go-to when I'm in transition. I stopped for awhile in Smithers. Again, maybe that was just laziness...or perhaps I just finally felt like I had nothing to run from.

Settled.

Either way, I'm not feeling very settled right now.

Babe is happy as a lark for the most part. She loooooves her new school and her new bedroom and seems basically unscathed by the traumatic whirlwind that tore my private little island apart.

Our new place is great, a good place to sit still.

For any single moms out there starting over...or over again; Find Comfort.

I run. I visit old friends. I pvr'd yoga because I can only do it late at night despite having free yoga right here in my building. I paint my nails in front of cheesy movies about women finding themselves. (I know...eye roll)

I've also got this amazing girl who brings her massage table to your place. It works great for a single mom who has already put the kid to bed and is stressed to the max but chained to the house!

I got back on a horse. I've planned a spa day on the island and I'm pumped to model for a photoshoot on Hornby.

And thank God for my probably exhausted but ever-supportive group of friends. They have spent endless hours over the last weeks listening at nauseam to every tiny detail of my current situation. A special shout out goes to E who despite me falling out of contact when busy never fails me when I come crawling back and J2 who has done more to boost me back up in the last few weeks than I could have ever asked for.

Some days I have a lot of anger, some days it's mostly tears and others I seem to pull strength out of somewhere and take steps forward. It's so strange to go from planning a future with someone to a whole new world. New babysitters, new preschool, new apartment, new plans, new friends, new dates.

I did manage to haul Babe to Calgary in the middle of my fog for my grandfather's (Babe's Grandpa, Grandpa's) funeral. Honestly, I don't even remember much of those few days, or the rush to pack and make arrangements down here. But here we are. Getting into a whole new routine.

Sprinkling my grandparent's ashes on the farm.

Flying back to Smithers.

It's still light out enough in the evenings for me to run along the river. There's one point in the trail where I get hit with a sweet smell so strong it feels like I've passed back into spring. I can't figure out what it is but it is intoxicating and it instantly fills me with an appreciation for the little things which I desperately need right now. I've even stopped and searched, nose-first for what it is. I recognize it but I've never had a great recollection for smells and I can't find where it's coming from - but it's so strong and so pure. I can't pin it down and I can't keep it, but I'm so thankful for it while it's here.

There's another point in the loop where I run along a ledge that's less than a foot across. I really like that part. Its occurred to me that it's only a matter of time before I fall and it'll probably really hurt (relax, it's only three or four feet high). It'll be embarrassing too. But every time I do it I get such a sense of satisfaction from it yet at the same time I worry that it's reckless and in hindsight it will seem quite silly when I fall.

But maybe I won't fall. Maybe I'll get faster, maybe I'll find a higher ledge.

I probably will fall though and it'll probably mean a trip to the ER. And I promise I'll post the pics so you can get a giggle out of my foolishness.

But until the fall comes, it's like that sweet smell in the forest...I just can't get enough.

Kinda like love I guess.

The Heart of a Two Year Old.

Well, the novelty of Mommy's sadness has worn off for Babe but I wanted to tell you all briefly about my sweet little girl who came to my aid when she saw her mommy hurting.

I feel terrible for being so depressed in front of her. It's inappropriate and not the kind of mother I want to be, but I guess we all have moments of weakness.

Babe can be a handful for sure. She has a lot of naughty moments and can throw a terrible fit with the best of the two-year-olds. She truly is the little girl with the little curl in the middle of her forehead.

But I have heard on more than one occasion from various caregivers that for her young age she shows remarkable compassion for her peers. Still I have been surprised and touched by her apparent concern for my well being over the past couple weeks. Especially since toddlers aren't known to be especially invested in anyone's happiness but their own.

In the days following my recent break up I could hardly muster the energy to get dressed or leave my bed. Babe and I were alone for the first couple days until my parents arrived (for a coincidentally pre-planned visit) and despite my best efforts to carry on for her, I spent most of that time half-heartedly playing with toys beside her with tears running down my cheeks.

One afternoon, as we were playing on the floor and I was miserably failing at hiding how miserable I was, Babe and I had one of the strongest bonding moments we've had since she stole my life-long teddy bear out of my arms while we slept.

I was sitting on the floor playing with her and doing my best to use my cheerful voice through heaving sobs - as if a normal tone could somehow trick my daughter into not noticing that something was off with Mommy. When all of a sudden she stopped playing and asked me if I was sad. I told her that I was and it was no big deal and gave her a brief explanation at which point, still crying, I expected her to resume our game as if satisfied with knowing 'yup, she's sad.'

But she was intently focused on me, not the toys. Then she told me she would read me a story to make me not be sad anymore.

She ran into her room and came out with her chubby baby arms filled with a sloppy pile of books - dropping them like a trail of breadcrumbs down the hallway as she came to me.

She sat down beside me, chose a book and then proceeded to pretend to read it to me with the pictures facing me like her pre-school teachers would do for the class.

I faked a smile and thanked her but I couldn't stop the crying.

Not discouraged she announced that she would get me some toys and ran back into her bedroom and retrieved some of her most prized possessions.

Again I thanked her and told her that made me happy - still crying.

But I was clearly not OK and instead of becoming frustrated at her failure to make me happy or distracted by the books and toys on the floor, my darling little girl climbed up into the rocking chair that I have comforted her in since the day she was born, turned to me, patted the space beside her little body and said' "It's OK Mommy. Come sit with me and we'll talk about it."

It was the first moment where my heart began to heal a little bit and it was because of a two-year-old. I was so touched by her innocent desire to not see Mommy be sad and her perseverance when her first attempts just weren't good enough to help.

At the same time I felt so terrible for putting her in a place where she had to worry about taking care of her mommy's emotional state.

A few days later it was a friend who suggested I write it down to keep for her for later.

I try not to be one of those my-baby-is-a-genius, braggy parents, but in that moment my two-year-old's capacity for compassion completely overwhelmed me.

I'm so lucky.

And I'm so glad that I have taken the time to recognize her little tragedies, no matter how ridiculous or trivial they seem to adults. Maybe it's just who she is, or maybe trying to understand her feelings even in her fits of toddler-craziness is helping her become a more empathetic child.

House of Straw.

These.

These are the last photos I took before our lives changed.

The one above is specifically significant because it later became woven into this fall.

Don't worry. Babe is fine. On paper so I am. I still have my job. Physically I'm healthy.

In the end, when the end came, I had no one to blame but myself.

I've picked up and started over so many times before. I guess I took pride in that. Felt I had paid my dues and learned my lessons. Thought I was strong, independent - that I knew what I was doing.

To get here I picked up and moved again - shortly before this blog stalled, as I threw myself into creating a fresh life and got whisked away with work and parenting - and ultimately love.

I jumped, risked everything, struck out on my own again, this time with my daughter in tow. I wasn't hiding, wasn't staying where I was safe. I left the security blankets behind and carved out something new. I was a strong mother and took control of our future.

I worked hard, I raised my daughter, I built a garden and loved a man.

Looking back here now, the post I wrote after we arrived is such a stark contrast to the most recent domestic one that I lost my breath.

I didn't want to believe that - sometimes - love doesn't conquer all.

Like a true journalist, I didn't have all the answers but I thought I could find them. I thought the answers would come if I sought experts, guidance and was patient. I thought a clear mind, true heart and good intentions would prevail.

I was wrong. Or maybe I was right but I couldn't do it alone.

I was so damn sure.
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I built a house of straw...but the winds have come.

Puff's New House.

Our bunny's new digs.
We thought about building our own and I had ideas about what I wanted but it wasn't happening.
So in the end we ordered this one online and it finally arrived yesterday. 

Puff is stoked!

Babe's First Pet.

Sorry.

I have no excuse except that we moved to a new town far away and I started a new job.

I'll try harder to keep this more up to date.

So this is almost the first post since we moved and started a new life in Northern B.C.

Babe is 2.5 now. She's practically all grown up and I wanted her to have a little creature to play with and love.

I had two lovely cats for a looong time. After Babe was born I found that as much as I loved them, I didn't have the time for them like I had before and they woke me up a lot which I had no patience for considering how little I got to sleep with Babe around.

Eventually one got too old and too sick and we had to put her down...I think I blogged about that sad day here. Then after we moved we decided that it would be better for my other long-time cat to have a new home with a single woman who had more time for her rather than being cooped up in a small apartment while Babe went to preschool and I went to work all day.

So we have been pet-less since we moved to Smithers back in August. It's been relaxing but a strange experience for me because I have always had animals around.

I wanted a pet and I wanted Babe to have one but I still wasn't ready to commit to the responsibility of a cat or dog.

Then I got sucked in to a baby bunny.

At first I just took him home for a few hours, then a weekend and eventually I couldn't fight the urge anymore and I just kept him.

I had bunnies when I was a kid but always just sorta regarded them as a boring pet that didn't do much.

But so far it has been great having a bunny. He is really calm, obviously very quiet, sheds way less than a cat or dog and is actually quite fun and.  He even comes when she is called.

"Puff" is a great first pet for Babe; cuddly and cute but calm and low maintenance. We love him.

The Hike.

Having spent a significant potion of my life at least close to nature I, of course, like most other B.C.er's have developed an affinity for the outdoors.

I've always felt very at home in both the forest and the ocean. Like most little girls I loved almost all animals - the cute ones for sure. And that love stayed with me as I grew into an adult. Maybe less like little girls I later also made the choice to love most insects and tiny creatures as well.

I say it was a choice because liking bugs didn't come naturally to me. I hated them when I was a kid. Spiders especially. My Dad always had to come and rescue me from them. But he'd never kill God's little creatures and I remember he would always take them outside in a cup.

Back then I always secretly thought, 'Why not just kill them. They're gross.' But he never did.

Then as a late-teenager living alone in a cabin in the woods(ish) I was so bombarded by bugs and so exhausted from spending my nights straining my eyes to see the creepies in the dark and spending my days dreading the night that I finally just decided to like them. I reasoned it would be easier to convince myself that bugs were beautiful than it would be to continue listening with my eyes and seeing with my ears in a cold sweat in the dark.

Whatever. What I'm getting at is that I've always been a nature girl. I love being in the trees, being near the trees, sitting quietly and listening to the trees. I love the ocean. I love the salt in my hair and the seaweed against my legs and the pebbles under my toes.

But since moving to Smithers I've realized a flaw of sorts in my nature-loving.

I was graced with growing up in probably one of the only corners of the planet where both the forest and the ocean hosted really almost nothing at all that could hurt you. Not badly anyway.

Really. Where else is that true?

Most of my nature time has been spent on Hornby Island or much less-so, around the Lower Mainland.

So the feeling in my heart that I am so at one with nature, the confidence that I know the surroundings, that I'm at home in Canadian woods, that the ocean and the forest are my cradle is very much a house of cards. An illusion of strength and very flimsy at best.

This has briefly occurred to me over the years. Like the odd summer when a bear or a cougar were rumoured to have swam over to Hornby. Some sheep would go missing or there would be a few sightings and suddenly my walks home late at night with only the moon as a flashlight would be more edgy. I'd stress a little and once even freaked at a deer in the bushes and ran all the way back to my boyfriend's cabin to make him walk me home.

It was in those moments that I'd remind myself how safe the island really was. But of course I'd forget within days of hearing the beast had been trapped and relocated off-island.

So, I've never really had to worry about nature. Oh, there have been bees and jellyfish and spider bites and rashes and prickles. But nothing more.

Even when I trekked into the Amazon, I took my illusion of safety with me. By then I was so used to being comfortable in the outdoors and so disillusioned both by my crazy island-bubble back home where nothing had ever "gotten" me (because there was nothing to get me) and the general sense of immunity that comes with youth that I felt only slightly out of my element in a land that harbours literally thousands of natural killers. I swam with piraña and caiman and trekked through the rainforest with abandon.

But since having a baby I've lost a lot of my guts. I'm more nervous and much more cautious. and I'll let you in on a secret:

I always have been pretty nervous. What most would probably perceive as bravery or possibly stupidity in me when it come to my boldness with nature, is really just me attempting to counteract all the paranoia that I was raised with.

I had a very, very nervous mother and as I've read somewhere, "How you speak to your children will become their inner voice" which I believe is very much the truth. Probably because of my mother I've always had warning bells in the back of my mind. Goose bumps on my flesh and hair standing up on the back of my neck. Those little warning signs that you're supposed to listen to. Well those are genetically entwined in my existence. I have them all the time. Fears. Worries. So in order to ensure that I wasn't controlled by them the way I saw that my mother was, I sort of got into the habit of forging ahead regardless of whether the danger was real or apparent.

I've always had a hard time differentiating between the two. I can never tell if I'm just being overly-cautious or down-right paranoid or if it's actually common sense talking. In my twenties it didn't help that I surrounded myself with people who took the same risks as I did. So even if my voice of reason was so loud that I did take pause before crashing through the woods in the middle of the night, my friends often made me feel like a worry wort.

Now that I have Babe it's become even harder for me to distinguish the legitimate fears from the imagined. I can't seem to find the lines between adventure, common sense, parental concern, parental over-protection and paranoia. I'm trying to figure it out but I'm constantly questioning if I'm being too care-free or too-careful. It's a balance that I can't grasp.

So after moving here and starting to explore it became clear quite quickly that I wasn't as prepared for the woods as I would have liked to think I was. All of a sudden there are black bears and grizzly bears and moose (which apparently are more viscous than they sounds when you type out the word) and cougars and fucking packs of wolves.

And here I am, a single mom. No bring-home-the-bacon-fight-off-the-wolf-pack husband to lead the way and break the cobwebs. It's just us.

So now I'm stuck between desperately wanting some sense of the adventure that I had in my old life and needing to protect my daughter from harm. And again, I can't find a balance. You think it would just be common sense, right? But some people would say going for a half hour hike on a popular trail alone with an infant is totally normal and other people would say it's not a good idea at all. And I don't know who I am!!!!

So, we've been easing in with little adventures. But in keeping with the Nothing Is Ever Easy theme of my life, our little adventures so far have been completely just us. It's summer and I've been expecting other tourists to be out in the same areas as us but so far we've been pretty much alone.

Today I took Babe on what the Internet assured me was an easy, family-friendly, all-ages hike. Now, by family-friendly I suppose they meant it's not very steep. But when I read family-friendly I imagined there would be families there. When we pulled off the road to the parking lot(ish) I was a little concerned that the sign said it was two-hours round-trip, but we were already there by that point and I'm really stubborn.

Despite the promise of rain I really did expect other people to be hiking the area. I guess that's the city girl in me, you can never fucking get away from people...EVER.

So my heart sped up a little when it was clear by the lot that, just like last week, we were the only ones out there. But as I strapped Babe into the ERGO I reasoned others would be along shortly.

OK. So Smithers peeps who read this will probably think I'm insane for being nervous in this area but please remember - I just got here. I don't know this area from the next and I do find A LOT of comfort in the familiar and knowing what is around the next bend. In fact, I was much more comfortable on the way back having already passed everything once and being able to picture the area from the top than I was on the way out. New terrain scares me (nowhere more so than with technology but...)

So for the rest of this post I'm pretty much just going to take you along our hike - in my mind. This is it.

So Babe's on my back and it's like 10:00 in the morning. It's grey and a little misty but there's some blue patches

...and I have this folded note with directions in my pocket because they don't believe in signs up here.

I have snacks - But bears can smell food. I also have my period, so...

But I have bear spray so there's a little sense of safety there. And my cell, so that's good.

We start out through a field and it's really pretty.

Those are most definitely some patches where animals have slept. It reminds me of exploring the fields on my grandpa's farm and my Dad saying, "A moose was here last night".

Maybe it's just cows. The instructions said to keep the gates closed. It's probably just cows...

This grass is long. I can't see very far. Anything could hide in there.

Then the field trail transitions into a forest trail.

OK. So the instructions said a narrow forest trail. We're going the right way.

What was that?!

(I'll save you reading that line five thousand times. Let's just assume for the sake of time-saving that I thought "What was that?!" 5000 times on our hike. Please also note that I spent the entire time that I wasn't scanning the bush for bears, scanning the trail for signs of bears; footprints, broken sticks, trees that had been rubbed raw, poop...anything bear-ish. So basically that's what I was doing the whole way.)

Babe is chattering on my back. Right in my ear. It's hard to hear if anything is sneaking up on us. I wish I had a husband to keep her quiet. That makes no sense. He'd probably just be talking too.

Be quiet. I'm trying to hear danger!

Relax. Just get lost in the beauty of it all...

Seriously. Shut up!

This path is longer than the instructions led me to believe. I should've guessed that when they said it was only three km to the lot from the road. Whoever wrote these instructions had no sense of distance. Or didn't care.

Fuck this path is long.

It's probably not that long. It's the fear that drags it out.

Babe says her legs are getting scratched by branches. Shhhhhhhh! Quiet!

This is scary. I'm only gonna go a bit further and then we can just turn back.

We'll come another day when I have a friend here.

No. By then it'll be snowing and it won't stop until July. We must take advantage of the summer while it lasts.

Shhhh!

Quiet! I'm listening for wolf packs.

(It should also be noted that I turned around to look behind me a lot. And not just casually, but like some crazy gingerbread-house witch just tapped me on the shoulder.)

On My God! That bird just scared the shit out of me! My heart is racing.

Is that a moose print? If it is that's a fucking huge moose.

My Dad would probably like to shoot it.

I wish he was here. He'd confirm if there was a moose with dinner plate-sized hooves in the area.

Funny how he won't kill spiders but he is such an avid hunter.

Is that a bear?

Nope. Just a stump.

This path is soooooo long. Just a bit further and then I'm totally turning back.

Where the hell is that gravel road we are supposed to be coming up on?

Is that a bear bed? Was a bear sleeping there?

God. These trees are closing in on me.

That's definitely a dog print. A hiker with a dog from yesterday? Or a wolf?

Why did someone have to mention wolf packs after the city hall meeting the other night? I didn't even think about fucking PACKS of wolves until someone said it. That fear wasn't even on my radar.

I wish I was Mantracker.

I wish I watched more Mantracker.

I've seen enough Mantracker. I can do this.

Shhhhhh! Stop singing Frere Jacques. The wolves can hear you.

We're gonna die and it's gonna be because I taught this kid how to sing.

Fuck. I remember this National Geographic show...or maybe it was Planet Earth, where the one wolf jumps out and scares the shit out of you. And meanwhile, while you're running for your life, the other ones circle around and come in from the sides and take you down.

Yeah. It was Planet Earth. I think it was a baby gazelle or something.

Dammit! I wish I could tell the difference between a wolf print and a German Shepherd print.

I'm just gonna turn around. This is stupid. I should just turn around. I have a child.

Baaaahhh! Stupid bird! Goddamit! I hate birds! I hate all the birds! What? They can't hear us coming from a mile away. I'm stomping through the woods with a 25 pound mini me singing french children's songs at the top of her lungs...like there's not a care in the world...like she isn't just a beacon for the wolf packs to hone in on and these fucking stupid birds are all startled when we land right on top of them. How are they not extinct yet?

Ooooh! I see a house through the trees. Sweet. OK that's nice. I could make it to that house if I had to. They'd hear us scream.

If there were lots of bears around the people who live there probably would've erected a sign or something. They'd warn people. They might even hear us and call out and say it's not safe.

Fuck. If I see that bird again I'm gonna rip its beak off and use it to pull staples in my office.

Hmmm. Fear makes me cranky.

Talk. Talk to the baby...

Sound happy. This is fun. Yay!

Why did I watch the Blair Witch Project so many times?

Jooooooosssssssshhhh?

OK, at this point I can't run back to that house anymore. They might hear us scream but we wouldn't make it.

If we just sit down here how long would it be until someone came by? Maybe we can wait at the top for someone and then walk back with them. No. That would probably be annoying.

Did a bear break that branch? Did a bear push that tree over. Did a bear kill that frog?

Holy Hell! Is that the road?

Yes! We're finally on the road. This is awesome. There's some more space. I don't feel like something can just leap out anymore. I can see further than three feet.

Being on that path was like being one of those horses at Stanley Park with the blinders on. The ones that pull all the tourists.

OK. This is better.

But the directions said it's still 30 minutes to the lookout.

Great. Babe wants to walk. It's gonna be another hour to the lookout.

OK. So walk!

No. THAT way.

Go.

Go.

GO!

OK. This is kinda fun. It's really pretty. Nice fields.

Wolf or dog prints? Wolf or dog prints?

Dog. Surely it's a dog.

Please walk faster baby. You're dragging out Mommy's fear. Let's just get there and get home!

No. Let her walk. This is supposed to be fun.

Hey! Horse poop. Awesome. That means a horse has been through here. Maybe it scared the bears away. Hopefully it was through here recently. It smells recent. Gross.

Common Babe. Chop, chop. Quick like a bunny.

Common...

This is nice though. Just me and Babe. She's having fun. I'm glad she isn't scared. Look at her. All trusting. She has no idea that I'm putting her in danger. Am I? Am I a bad mom or a good mom? Is this good parenting or bad parenting? Probably good parenting if you're a family and you're all together. Probably bad parenting if you're just a single mom dragging your kid through the woods.

But that's not fair. We don't have a husband/daddy.

But I have bear spray. I'm a good mom.

Urgh! Except I'm out in the woods in an area that I'm not familiar with. And it's just crawling with huge animals out here. And here I am; 5 foot 3 with the flu and a chattering little bundle of blonde, bobbing ten steps behind me who probably reeks of vulnerability and veal-fresh meat.

This. This right here is why people get married. This is the reason.

Shhhh! Quiet. Please. Please. They'll eat us! Don't you get it. There's b-e-a-r-s out here.

No there's not.

Hey! The top! Holy Hell. We made it to the top.

Oh. This is steep. I probably shouldn't be doing this sick. My head feels like it's going to explode.

Who invented going up stuff. Going up stuff is haaaard.

So that's it. Basically that's exactly what was going through my mind on our walk. Honestly. I know because I made an extra effort to remember it. That actually helped keep me calm. Trying to remember my crazy thoughts.

The view was really spectacular. And Babe and I had a little picnic. And a couple other people did come and go. Two on a quad and two on mountain bikes. So on the way back I could see their tracks and I knew they had been through and maybe scared off any creatures.

Actually, when I asked the one bike guy if he had seen any bears he laughed and said no. It kinda sounded like he thought I was paranoid. So I felt a little better like maybe it wasn't likely that there were any around those parts.

And I texted on the way back which took my mind off my fears.

We actually really lucked out because the clouds were coming in fast and I hadn't brought a coat for Babe or myself. And as soon as we got to the truck it started to pour!

What luck.

And just as I was pulling out to drive away...

A black bear! He just meandered across the road and into the woods we had just stumbled through. I don't know if it was luck or a warning. Maybe someone telling me to heed my fears or telling me that everything would be OK. I have no idea.

It did confirm my worries - and calmed them at the same time.

*Update: Last night after this hike I found a list of all the people known to be killed by bears since the late 1800's. Just like a true researcher, I read every one. I doubt that this information will help me at all in the future.

Saying Goodbye to 139.

OK everyone:

Big changes. For the time being this blog is no longer going to be about a single mom in Vancouver. That's right. There's still plenty of single moms in Vancouver but I'm not one of them.

After a long, brutal job search I finally settled on a position as the new radio news reporter for a station called The Peak in Smithers B.C.

We had less than two weeks to find a new place and new daycare, pack and move. And I'll tell you right now, we just barely pulled it off. Starting a whole new adventure is one thing when you're 22 and single, it's another thing entirely when you have a toddler. 

The final week was go, go, go, from morning until night (not like it isn't always with a baby). A lot of packing and last-minute errands punctuated by tearful goodbyes.

It was actually a lot sadder than I thought it would be to leave our apartment. It was after all the place where I went into labour, where we brought Babe home from the hospital. Her first bedroom, all her firsts pretty much were there. I was really sad to dismantle her room. 

On the last day after the guys had taken apart Babe's crib I found a little surprise on the wall. Obviously some dirty little toes had found their way through the bars and left a printbehind. I left it there. I couldn't bare to wipe it off. Let the next tenants do it.

These are pics from the very last time we left the apartment. I'm not usually so sentimental but the two years we lived there were filled with so many milestones. The pregnancy. Bringing Babe home from the hospital. J moving out and Babe and I starting a life on our own. It was my kitty Sprout's final home (and that cat moved with me A LOT). Babe crawled home in that hallway. She walked home in that hallway. She learned how to point out the 1-3-9 on our door. It was sad to think we can never go back there.  

But we are here in Smithers now. It's been over a week and we are settling in. My parents came up with us and stayed for a few days. And since they left it's been just the two of us, figuring out a new life. This last couple weeks have been really hard, I'm not gonna lie. But I can't wait to share this next adventure with you all. Stay tuned as a West Coast mommy turns into a Northern one. Is this north? It feels north?

Babe looking a little shellshocked. It's been a lot of change for her.