The Last of the Summer.

Inside the Little Cabin.

Babe and I are back in town now. We had so much fun on Hornby. I wish we could have stayed longer but we were gone for three weeks and J really wanted to see Babe, so we came back.

I still haven't decided if being alone on vacation with Babe was easier or harder than I had imagined. Definitely not having running water was a total drag. I'm used to it but with a baby who is constantly covered in poop, food or dirt it was worse than I had remembered.

And I had planned to re-sleep train Babe while we were at the cabin...but...

Yup. Once again I have failed at sleep training and given into my little devil. Which is just the absolute worst thing you can do. But in all fairness to me she is really, REALLY stubborn. Last time by night five Babe was sleeping through the night in her crib. This time I made it to night seven and she was still screaming for hours. She's always had the same bedtime routine and she is happy as a clam until she sees that we're heading for her bed. Putting her down in the crib is like lowering a cat into a bathtub. She wraps herself around my arms, digs her nails in and starts screaming.

But now I have decided that I actually like sleeping with her and I don't need to make her spend the whole night in her own bed. I do however, need her to go to sleep in her own bed and stay there for the first few hours so that:

A: I don't have to go to bed when she does.

B: I can leave her with a sitter and have the sitter be able to put her to sleep without crawling into my bed.

So that's what we're working on now.

Babe winning the battle. In bed with Mommy early one morning.

The trip was made a lot easier by having my aunt and uncle right next door. They were able to take Babe off my hands sometimes so that I could get things done. Everything at the cabin is dirty and not baby-proofed so there was literally nowhere to put Babe down. I did have her playpen with us but she'll only stay quiet in that little padded cell for so long. So I had to get used to doing everything with Babe hanging onto my leg. Washing dishes, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry - any chore I had to get done took twice as long with her attached to my body. So it was great when my aunt would hold her for twenty minutes while I showered or went to the bathroom (can't put Babe down in the outhouse either).

My aunt giving Babe a bath in a bucket. Our beautiful beach in the background.

And even as the trip wore on and I got more and more used to it being just the two of us, there was the occasional shitty moment.

One night Babe and I went to a party at a friend's house. It was way past Babe's bedtime and I was prepared for total meltdown. But Babe was an absolute doll the whole time. She crawled all over the house, chasing the children who could easily escape her grubby paws. She danced to the music and flirted with all the grown-ups. We were having a great time and I hadn't yet really noticed that almost everyone else were in pairs. Single pairs, married pairs and pairs with their babies. If I had noticed I guess I hadn't given it enough thought to bother me. But then a woman whom I hadn't seen in a long time came over to congratulate me on my baby. And as she was watching me watching Babe she casually asked, "Are you alone?" She's the sweetest lady and didn't mean anything by it but I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I don't even know why really. On another day with another person asking, the question wouldn't have fazed me. But I guess I had forgotten for a second and was unprepared for the look of concern on her face.

But these moments were few and far between and mostly we had great weather, great fun and made many great memories.

Babe loves music and was thrilled that my friends had so many instruments at their house.

Cymbal, marimba, cymbal, marimba...

She went straight for the drums every time we went over to their house.

In the lagoon. I know she isn't wearing a life jacket. Relax.
We're in two feet of water. Photo and kayak loan by Judith Coleman.

Napping in the hammock.

Again in the hammock.

Photo by Sung Van, a family friend who rents my aunt's
cabin every summer. I love this shot.

Babe with my good friend D on the beach the day before we left.

This summer I finally got to read some books too. From the time Babe was born until last month I haven't been able to finish a newspaper article never mind an entire book. After finishing Two Kisses for Maddy I read The Birth House (which has been sitting on my nightstand since Christmas).

AMAZING book! Loved, loved, loved it. It's happened to me before that I've had a book kicking around for a long time and then when I finally read it I can't believe that I just let it sit there for so long. The Birth House is one of those books. It's the first book by award winning journalist and author Ami McKay. It's about the practice of midwifery on the east coast during the first world war. The main character reluctantly takes over as the single midwife of a small fishing community outside of Halifax. Even as she helps women through the birth of their babies, protects them from their husbands and a solicitous doctor and keeps their secrets safe she is seen as a witch and treated as an outcast. "The Birth House is an unforgettable tale of the struggles women have faced to have control of their own bodies and to keep the best parts of tradition alive in the world of modern medicine," says McKay's website. I haven't enjoyed a book this much since The Help and I found myself hoping someone would make a movie out of this one too. 

On the way home I detoured a little to take Babe to see the goats on the roof at the Coombs Country Market. I think she was a little surprised to see a big animal on top of a building. We were lucky to see them. I've been many times when the goats haven't been on the roof as advertised. We shopped around the market and the surrounding stores and it was a nice break from the drive down Vancouver Island (which Babe spent the first half of screaming while I sang Old MacDonald over and over).

Goat.

Babe watching the goat.

After the market we caught a night ferry back to Tsawwassen and stayed at my parent's place before coming home the next day. I miss Hornby Island already but it's good to be home. How long we get to stay here I'm not sure. I've just started applying for jobs and most of them aren't in the Vancouver area.

Sailing home.

Really? Again? The New Bumbo Recall.

READ HERE: http://www.cbc.ca/news/business/story/2012/08/15/bumbo-baby-seat-recall.html


Urgh! Well it was bound to happen. Once again a few parents who can't think for themselves or take responsibility for their actions are ruining it for the rest of us.

I'm not going to bother ordering the safety strap. And there already is a warning label on the damn thing.

Yes, Babe can get out of it. Yes she did almost hit her head once. But she was sitting on the carpeted floor and it really wasn't a big deal.

http://www.cbc.ca/news/business/story/2012/08/15/bumbo-baby-seat-recall.html

See my old post on the previous Bumbo recalls here.

Life Goes On.

Babe catching some zzz's while I make some
extra cash helping my aunt with her taxes.

Babe and I have always done a lot of stuff just the two of us. But now that I am officially a single mom there’s a finality lurking in the shadows on every outing. Before the separation Babe and I were doing things alone but I knew J was at work, or at home. I knew that he could come if he wanted to and that maybe he would come the next time.

Out for dinner.

But now I know it’s going to be just us on the outings. There’s no chance that it might be three. While it’s a relief to just go ahead and do things without being disappointed when J decides not to join us, it is sad to see all the other families when we go out.

I guess it’s because it’s summer and everyone is on holidays that now we see families wherever we go.

When we eat out we inevitably get seated in the family section where the other tables have two parents sipping their wine and trying to get the baby to take a bite of something.

When we go to the park we see mommies and daddies teaching their toddlers how to ride a bike or fly a kite.

Currently Babe and I are on my beloved Hornby Island for a vacation and the other day I took her to Whaling Station Bay for the first time. Babe had lots of fun crawling all over the sand. She was thrilled to be free to go as far as she cared to in any direction.  We built a sandcastle and dug a hole and played in the tide pools and the waves.

Playing dress-up with Mommy's jewelry.

But while Babe was having a blast I had mixed emotions. Part of me was so excited to be with my baby in the place I love. I’ve daydreamed about this first summer with my baby for so long and to have that dream finally realized is pretty awesome. But of course it was a little bittersweet. Under the other beach umbrellas and sitting on towels were whole families having fun at the beach together. The fathers were building sand castles, swishing their babies through the waves and running back to the cars for forgotten items. It’s funny that just something as little as seeing a man put sunscreen on his wife’s back kinda hurt a little.

And it was probably just me but I felt like people were wondering where my husband was or feeling sorry for me because I had no company and no help with the baby.

But we had a good time anyway. And Babe even had a nap at the beach, which allowed me some grown-up reading time!

I’m currently reading Two Kisses For Maddy by Matt Logelin. I stumbled across his blog while playing on my phone and nursing late one night. It’s been around for a long time now but it was new to me. Logelin writes about raising his baby girl on his own after the sudden death of his wife only hours after the birth. His blog is touching; both heart-breaking and heart-warming. And I figured since I am now finding my footing as a single mother of a (relatively) new baby I could maybe find some solace in his book. And I have. It’s a beautiful story about Logelin’s struggle to overcome his personal grief while raising his new daughter. I highly recommend it if you are still looking for a good beach read.

Anyway, I feel that this vacation will set the tone for how well we can handle the next few months as we transition into a one-parent household and I return to work. So far it hasn’t been easy. Babe is back to sleep training which means she has been crying off an on all night and practically insufferable during the day. And my parents have been visiting Hornby as well so I’ve actually had some help. But they leave tomorrow so here’s hoping I can make it at least another week. We’re really roughin’ it up here. I have no TV or Internet (I have to go to the school just to post this) and Babe and I are living in a one-room cabin with no running water. It’s a lot of work but I’ve waited years to have this time at Hornby with my very own baby!

Life goes on. 

Playing in the ocean while waiting for the ferry.

At the beach.

Sleeping at the beach.

Testing out the new stroller for its intended function - walking around Helliwell.

Maybe.

Cozy pajamas: check
Glass of red wine: check
Tissues: check

Deep breath.

J moved out today. I'm a single mom.

It's been a long time coming. But with the boxes gone and half the closet standing empty it's now official.

I think it's better now than when Babe is older. But it's funny. You'd think a baby wouldn't understand what was happening. But she looked confused while arm fulls of J's things were leaving the apartment today. And after he left she sat on the floor and quietly waved for a couple minutes. My heart broke for her.

I've wanted to write about this situation for awhile but I've had a hard time deciding just how to go about it. I want to be honest and open about everything. For myself and for my readers.

For me, I want this blog to be an accurate record of my life with Babe, not just a picture that I am comfortable showing to others. And for any of you going through the trials of mommyhood, I want this blog to be a source of information, humour, understanding and support. So I feel like I need to be as open as I can.

But at the same time, there is someone else involved here. Someone who doesn't necessarily want to air our dirty laundry. And as angry as I am, I have to make an effort to be respectful.

Here I am faced with the same problem I had when keeping a diary of my pregnancy. Babe may read this one day. And while I want to write down everything that is happening, there are things that she doesn't need to know about. Things that might hurt her. Things that she may not want aired to the world. And I don't want her to think badly of her father because he loves her to bits.

So how do I go forward on this blog?

I'm literally sitting here tapping my fingers on the desk. Well, not now. Now I'm typing. But I was. I. Don't. Know. What. To. Say.

Things have been pretty bad for a long time. Since before I was pregnant. A long time ago we were really in love. But I guess it didn't last. I tried to hang on for too long. Tried to make it work. Tried to make him happy. After awhile I sort of gave up and I just wanted to move away after school finished. But then I got pregnant. And I'm so happy I did. I always wanted to be a mommy.

I wasn't one of those idiots that thought a baby could fix a relationship. I knew things were about to get even more difficult. But still, I hung on. I thought maybe he just needed time to adjust to the idea of parenthood. I thought maybe we can make things good again. Maybe we can be happy again.

There wasn't a lot of support during the pregnancy.

Still I thought, "If I can just limp us along until the birth", then we'll be a family and maybe we can be happy again.

And of course J loves his baby more than anything and was thrilled when she was born. In fact it was him that cried in the delivery room, not me.

But J was in the middle of his last semester at school. And he was really stressed out and irritable. So right from the beginning Babe and I were alone a lot.

I thought, if I just take care of everything until he is done school. Maybe we can be happy again.

But we had Christmas break and the lack of schoolwork didn't seem to relieve the tension. And then school ended and the tension in the house was still there. We still weren't happy.

(I should clarify) I was happy. Exhausted, emotional, scared and overworked. Sometimes stressed and often times lonely. But thrilled to be a mommy and optimistic. When I say we weren't happy, I mean with each other. And really - I mean he wasn't happy with me or, it seemed, with anything.

I did a lot of things alone with Babe. If you go back and re-read this blog you'll see that most of the time it was just the two of us.

J will say it was because of school, or work, or he was sick or too tired. I say the motivation just wasn't there. I had waited so long for my own baby that I was overloaded with things I wanted to do with her in the first year. I really wanted us to do things as a threesome and as the months went by and that never happened I got more and more hurt and more and more resentful. Until I couldn't hide the anger any longer.

And when I reached my limit I was mean about it. I was so angry and I didn't make the home a very nice place for J to be anymore. And I left with Babe every chance I got.

Here is where I have to be especially careful. While I would love nothing more than to drag J through the mud for the rest of this post it is neither helpful nor fair. And I've already had my Jerry Springer moments for this breakup. So I'll just skip ahead.

We have been separated since June 1st but we were still living together while J looked for a new place. I went to D.C. and then to Alberta. J stayed home and worked. And even though we had broken up and were drafting the custody papers I guess there was a little part of me that thought:

Maybe we can still be happy.

You know how even though you know that the relationship is done there is that little part of you that hasn't closed the door all the way. The little voice that says, maybe?

J closed that door.

I asked him to leave.

He's been gone for awhile and today he came and took his things.

My heart is broken. But I think it's more for the breakup of the family than for the removal of J from my life.

And maybe it's my age, maybe I shed so many tears on the relationships of my youth that I have few left to cry. Maybe it's because I have a baby to be strong for. Maybe it's because I got used to the idea of being a single mom over the last few months. But I seem to be powering through this breakup in a way I never did before. I transitioned smoothly from Sinead O'Conner's, "Nothing Compares To You" to Beyonce's, "Irreplacable" in a matter of days and I already have new hair and a re-organized house.

Babe and I are out and about doing things on our own - but then again, we always were. And despite what you may read between these lines, I'm not that angry. Not as angry as I thought I would still be.

It's going to be hard. Really, stinking, shitting, fucking, Goddamn hard. J and I haven't been apart that long and I already find I'm struggling. We weren't getting along but he was still around to hold Babe or take out the garbage. Now I find myself getting frustrated and taking it out on her. Especially because she still doesn't sleep well and I'm just so worn down. I raise my voice more than I want to. I grumble more than I should. And I've said mean things about her daddy in front of her (even though I know she doesn't understand me, that isn't the mom I want to be).

But going it alone is also forcing me to try harder. There's not a lot of room for vanity, ego or selfishness in motherhood and there is less in single motherhood. And I know I can do it better.

It's not the fairy tale I had hoped for. But what ever is? And maybe I do have a little hope that the three of us will find a new way to be happy. But for now "we" is Babe and I.

And we are going to be happy.

No maybes.