She's a Girl.

When we were in Auckland E's daughter had a little play stove in the kitchen which Babe just loved. She played with it every day that we were there and littered the house with the pots and pans that went with it. She loved it so much that I made a mental note to try to find something similar here in Vancouver.

Then the other day we were in Walmart and I remembered the stove and decided to check the toy isle to see if I could find one.

Of course the one E's kid has was found in a second hand store and it's way cooler than any of the crap you'd buy at Walmart. It's plastic too, but not the China-lead-paint-cheap-ass-Walmart plastic. It's the hard plastic that snaps into dangerous shards not the soft plastic that bends forever like silly putty. And E's stove makes cooking sounds and the burners light up and it's actually the colours you'd find on a real stove. It's not a pink stove with purple burners and a sparkly flower oven door with a fucking Disney princess on it or something. And it's super small and compact and fits nicely in a real kitchen. But nevertheless, I wanted to get something...

But of course all the Walmart kitchens were huge and completely unnecessary for a one year old. I know I'll have to purchase one of them later but I'm not yet at the place in my parent-life where I'm willing to buy toys that come in refrigerator-sized boxes. But then just as we were about to leave we came upon a stack of mini-kitchens on sale for $20. The kids pictured with it on the box were Babe's age and the thing wasn't too big. And better yet, it was cheap, so I wouldn't feel bad about donating it to the thrift store in six months.

So I bought it and Babe seemed to know what it was by looking at the box and she seemed excited.

But when I was looking for the kitchens we passed a row of plastic tool benches. And the first thought in my head was, "Well here's all the tool benches, where the hell are the girl's kitchens?" And that thought bugged me on the drive home. Why did I so eagerly dismiss the tool benches as being for boys? Was I already falling victim to society's gender roles and guiding my daughter more towards Barbies and fairy dresses and away from Transformers and army men? It bugged me.

It was still bugging me two hours later when the Walmart kitchen was built and Babe was happily putting cups and saucers inside the oven.

Then I realized something cool.

I paid for the toy and hauled it in from the truck. I spent almost two hours with 500 parts scattered in a pokey puddle at my feet. Seriously, for $20 they don't get you started on fucking anything. For $20 you get 500 pieces swept off the factory floor and some generic instructions that apply to various models of similar toys.

My tool box was out and my screwdrivers were spread all over the place. Sharp tools that I had to continuously confiscate from Babe who would snatch one as soon as she sensed my focus was elsewhere.

Babe watched me sift through a hundred little pieces to find the right one. She saw me drop screws and bump my head on the table looking for them. She heard me swear more than once. She probably noticed my butt crack.

She quizzically listened while I explained what I was doing. She played in a poopy diaper for longer than is acceptable because I was too focussed on what I was doing to stop and change her. She saw her mom do all of that. And that's pretty manly shit I was doing.

So who cares if the end result is a kitchen set instead of a tool bench - we used tools to make it. Babe is gonna grow up in a house where it's her mommy that does the blue jobs and the pink jobs. And she wouldn't be lying if she told her baby-friends that her mommy can drive a forklift in high heels. (She'd be a genius - but not a liar).

Single moms do it all. So I guess being a single mom gets me off worrying if I'm stereotyping my daughter.

P.S. While building the toy I also had dinner cooking and the laundry on.

Northern New Zealand with a Baby.

So we stayed at the rented house in Mangonui (Maori for big shark) for the rest of the trip. Babe and I spent a lot of time at Cooper's Beach, usually with E, her husband and kids during the day. Then sometimes in the evening Babe and I would walk the path through the bush and go for an evening swim before her bedtime.

Babe was just starting to walk unassisted when we left for New Zealand but by mid-trip she had completely abandoned crawling. And within a few beach trips she figured out how much fun it was to walk on the beach and by the end of our stay she was running fearlessly into the waves and chasing seagulls on the sand.

And I even screwed up the courage to drive the twisty back road down to the village one day for a little shopping and some fish and chips at the Mangonui Fish Shop with Babe. It wasn't that daredevil of me considering I was able to avoid the main road and all but two intersections. Before we left E kept reminding me to keep myself in the center of the road (on my side of the line) and I'd be fine - which we were.

On the beach after a swim.

Despite not being able to do all the adventurous things I'd normally do on a trip we had a great time just hanging out on the beach and relaxing. And considering her baby was born the day I arrived E did amazingly well at getting out of the house herself. We even walked up the Rangikapiti Pa (Woot! I remembered the spelling of it!!!). Pa were Maori defensive forts on hilltops in northern New Zealand.

Looking down on Cooper's Beach.

The pa in the background.

Photo courtesy: Dumb and Dumber

I also experienced another first-time-mommy right of passage. I cut my kid's hair myself and fucked it up. I figured it couldn't be that hard because all I had to do was shave a tiny bit off of her bangs to keep them out of her eyes. And she sits so still at the salon...Well, she wriggled all over the place and I cut her bangs too short. Now she looks ridiculous. The length of her bangs combined with the totally annoying screaming sound she makes in the car reminds me of Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber.

Anyway, we came back to Auckland the day before we were due to fly out and I still really wanted to see the other coast and get some black sand for my travel jar. (Each time I travel to a new place I fill a Mason jar with trinkets I collected on the trip.)  So the morning of our last day we piled everyone in the cars (we couldn't fit three car seats in one car) and drove the 45 minutes to Piha Beach (location of the Piha Rescue T.V. show) for some black sand and the best burger and fries (hot chips) I have ever had in my life!

Once again Babe loved the beach although it was far too rough to go swimming. She was so happy she actually just lay down at one point and snuggled the sand. It got everywhere. It was still in her hair and eyelashes when we got back to Vancouver.

Babe hugging the beach.

The girls waiting for their hot chips.

It was also awesome to see another ocean/sea/body of water - the Tasman Sea. After our trip to Piha it was time to go back to E's place, throw our stuff in the car and head for the airport. I'll update you on flying home with Babe in the next post. For now I've got a still slightly jet-lagged baby to tend to.

Windy New Zealand.

Being a winter baby, Babe isn't used to driving with the windows down. The wind was blasting her in the face and despite the hot day she was less than impressed. So instead of comforting her I thought I'd snap a series of photos. I just thought they were too funny not to share.

She's fine now. Don't worry.

New Zealand With a Baby.

My cousin E is a very close friend of mine from New Zealand. She lived in Canada for 10 years and that’s when we became such good friends. But over four years ago she and her husband decided to pack up and move back to New Zealand. After they arrived E had a baby girl and then was expecting another this Christmas.

These last few years we have missed each other like crazy but neither of us has had the funds or opportunity to visit the other. It has been really sad to have been so close as single girls and then to not be there for each other when we had our babies.

But recently a new friend offered to give me some of his flyer points so that I could go see E and her family – just in time for the new baby’s arrival! The opportunity for a reunion was too good to pass up and since I’m still unemployed (more on the job search later) and since the weather is so shitty in Vancouver right now it seemed like a great time to go.

E and her daughter greeting their new baby!

So here we are. Babe and I are in New Zealand for a couple weeks hanging with family and seeing a bit of the country as well. With three kids I knew this wasn’t going to be a “traveling” kind of trip but I have had the chance to see some things in between tantrums, feedings and makeshift routines, and hopefully Babe and I can explore some more before we ship out.

First off, Babe and I had to brave a 14-hour flight just to get here. Thank God we had a direct flight. And even better we lucked out and managed to score one of the only empty seats on the plane so Babe had her own space (sort of). If you’re curious about flying with a baby please read my previous posts on the topic – most of it still applied to this trip.

It was an overnight flight which was great because it kept Babe on pretty much the same schedule and significantly cut down on the amount of time I had to entertain her.

Sky Tower.

We survived the night of tossing and turning and scooching past the aisle-seated lady to use the potty one hundred times and landed semi-alert in Auckland. E, now almost two weeks overdue was waiting to pick us up at the arrivals gate – in the early stages of labour! She was contracting as we walked out to greet her.

We were barely settled in a few hours later when E rushed off to the hospital and popped out a beautiful baby boy. He is perfect and I’m so glad we were here for his arrival.

Understandably the next few days we were pretty much house-bound. Since I’m only here for a couple weeks I’m not interested in risking driving. I would try to wrap my mind around driving on the “wrong side of the road” if I was single and/or was staying for longer. But with Babe in tow it seems silly to risk an accident on such a short trip.

To get out of the house for a bit Babe and I went up Sky Tower in downtown Auckland. The line-up took forever because only two of the four elevators (or lifts) were working. But luckily babe slept through that part. The views at the top were spectacular and a good way to start a trip to Auckland as it gives you a 360-degree view of the city and it’s surroundings.

Babe checking out the view of the city. Rangitoto volcano in the background.

Babe sitting on the glass floor. I think it made both of us a little nervous.

"Hey, there are cars down there

Killing time waiting for our bus back to Waterview.

After another couple days at home we all piled into two cars and headed north to Mangonui where E and her husband had rented a house near the beach. It's beautiful up here and Babe is loving the beach and the warm weather.

Eating a plum at the beach. T-shirt by Pina.

What are you worth when you don't get paid?

Sorry. I missed all of October. I've had some distractions, not the least of which has been my quest for meaningful employment. I've been looking for a job in journalism since mid-August and my maternity leave ended in mid-October. So for almost a month now I have officially been unemployed and I tell ya - it doesn't feel good.

I was pregnant during my last semester of school and by the time my internship was over I was too obviously pregnant to expect anyone to hire me. It was then that I made the choice to put off starting a career in media and instead go back to working as a nanny. Which I did on a short-term contract to squirrel away enough hours to get my maternity leave.

But now that Babe has celebrated her first birthday (more on that later) it's time for me to go to work. The problem is there doesn't seem to be any work for me to go to. Not in my industry anyway. So as of now I'm still at home with my baby, taking care of her but not "working" at a regular 9-5 job. And because of this lack of employment, a first for me since I was 15, I often find myself questioning my value.

I know that raising children is work. And I know there is great value in it. Being a mother that stays home with her children is certainly of immeasurable worth to the family unit and a child's development. I know I'm making a difference for my baby; that me being with her in these tender years is important. I've heard the people who say, "Motherhood is the most important job there is". But it doesn't feel that way.

For starters there is the lack of a pay cheque. And without an income you immediately lose the yard stick by which we generally measure worth. There's also the lack of peer evaluations, performance reviews, promotions, raises, bonuses...all the workplace milestones that we brag to our friends about and hold up as examples of our success.

And when your friends are earning X amount of money per year and you're bringing in nothing it's hard to find your footing on the playing field. In a world where everything is guided by the almighty dollar what's a stay at home mom worth? When your day consists of diapers and playgrounds how do you retain a sense of personal value?

As important as I know it is to be here for Babe I can't help but feel like I'm not accomplishing anything.

This past year I've found myself placing too much value on how clean my house is or how many errands I can perform in a day. Having a sink void of dirty dishes somehow makes me feel better about myself and that isn't OK. Don't get me wrong, being able to maintain a household with a baby on the loose is no easy feat but it's just not enough for me. I don't want to define myself with such boring accomplishments.

It's definitely my ego that's the problem here. And society is getting into my head too. A person shouldn't be more or less valuable based on their income. The more you make the better you most certainly are not. Yet here I am, feeling crappy about myself because I'm not "working".

Right now I'm not the breadwinner. But I can't be the stay-at-home-mom much longer either. I'm not a trophy wife or a kept woman and I never will be if I keep eating dessert at this rate (seriously). So what am I? And whatever that is, what's it worth?

"I Know There's A Pony In Here Somewhere!"

Just a little update on things here before I go to bed:

Notice the blurry hands. She pets the cats at warp speed.
They hate it.

Let's start on a crappy note, shall we? My kitty (I mentioned she was sick in my last post) was put to sleep last week. I had her for so long and I really miss her. In a last ditch attempt to find out what was wrong with her I shelled out the big bucks for a chest x-ray. Actually the vet took two x-rays but she didn't charge me for the second; either because she felt bad for me or because she realized she's been seeing an awful lot of me this year.

Anyway. The x-rays didn't show anything definitive but they did show some spots on Sprout's lungs which were probably cancer that was spreading from somewhere else.

That day Babe was very squirmy and fussy in her stroller and I wasn't getting the opportunity I wanted to say goodbye to Sprout. So I made an appointment the next day to bring Sprout back in. J. came over to visit Babe giving me the opportunity to take Sprout to the vet alone and say goodbye properly.

We had booked the appointment for the end of the day because the vet said then I wouldn't feel rushed to vacate the room, which was thoughtful of her. But what neither of us considered was the the number of people who would be arriving at closing to pick up their pets who had been staying at the clinic. The noise of everyone talking outside the room and the barking of dogs desperate to be reunited with their people stressed the cat out and made it hard for me to focus on the moment. But in the end I was there for my kitty as she took her last breaths and I felt that the decision was made at the right time.

That same day I retrieved my other cat, Bina, from my parent's house and brought her home. I think she's pissed that she no longer has a yard to play in, but she is getting enough exercise outrunning the baby all day.

What else?? Babe has her second cold. This week a friend and I have been taking our babies to the play centre in the nearby mall because the weather has turned. So surprise, surprise! Now she's sick. It was bound to happen and it's not really a big deal, but there it is. I hate having the snot-nosed kid, everyone thinks you're gross (or is that just what I think when I see snot-nosed kids?).

And despite working out and running almost every day I seem to be heavier than I was in June. WTF? And if one more person says muscle weighs more than fat I'm gonna smack them in the face. My mother who consistently complains about being fat weighs less while holding Babe on the scale than I do by myself. Awesome! I told her I hope she has osteoporosis and that it's her lack of bone density that is making her so much lighter than me. Turns out she's being tested for that next week so it wasn't as funny as I had hoped.

I'm still looking for work. My maternity runs out at the end of the month and I have nothing lined up. I was offered a great job in another province but after careful consideration it just didn't make sense to move that far away right now. It was disappointing to have to turn it down. If I were single I'd have accepted it in a heartbeat. But it wasn't right for Babe and I. It was additionally stressful that the paper called to offer me the job while I was at the vet's office putting the cat to sleep.

Initially I was thinking that I might have to temporarily go on welfare if I can't find a job before my maternity runs out. Just to keep us fed. I mentioned this to a woman at B.C. Housing (I was checking on our application from over a year ago) and among the many depressing things she told me about the welfare application process was her advice that, "As a new single mother you're going to have to get used to the fact that your life is going to be pretty miserable for the next few years". Helpful. Thank-you.

I reminded myself that her office is probably flooded all day with people who are miserable in miserable situations and that she probably only sees people who are beaten down and have given up. But she doesn't know me, she doesn't know my drive, my energy level or how hard I can work to stay in a good place. So I chose to write her off as cranky and inaccurate.

Luckily for me (because I was starting to picture myself working as an escort or at McDonald's) the provincial government now has a lot of good services and programs designed to help parents return to work after being on maternity (if you aren't returning to your previous job). So I've been trying to make the most of that help and I think it will expand my search. And I may even get the opportunity to go back to school for a bit!

So right now it's no job, no income, a dead kitty, a broken family and I'm fat. But despite how hard it's been lately things are slowly falling into place and life is pretty decent. As the blog title says and in reference to this current pile of shit; "I know there's a pony in here somewhere."

In case you are unfamiliar with the phrase, it comes from this joke: "There once were twin boys. One of them was an optimist and the other was a pessimist. The parents, wanting to understand why their children were so different took the boys to a psychiatrist. He devised an experiment to figure it out. The psychiatrist led the first boy into a room filled with toys. But the child burst into tears. The doctor asked why and the child replied, "If I start playing with these toys I'm afraid that I might break one". The psychiatrist noted that this was the pessimistic child. Then the psychiatrist led the second boy into a room filled to the ceiling with horse manure. The boy immediately knelt down and began happily digging through the poop. The doctor asked the child why he was doing that, to which the boy replied, "I know there's a pony in here somewhere!" 

So in happy news, Babe is standing and cruising along furniture now. To help her practice walking we went to the toy store to pick out something she could ride and push. We picked the Playskool Rock n' Roll Rider pictured below. It plays music and motorcycle sounds and it can convert into a walker. Babe loooooves being pushed around the apartment. She especially likes cruising past the mirrors so she can see how badass she is.

Here is a short clip of Babe dancing to the beats while it's still in the box. The quality sucks - blame Blogger, I can't seem to fix it.

And in an attempt to get another area of my life back on track I swallowed my pride and signed up for online dating with a website that asks you a million questions and then matches you with potential mates. Ironically I was immediately "matched up" with my ex. I guess the site actually works. I mean, we were together for two years so we are obviously fairly compatible. Life is funny.

Move Over Kitty.

In August of 2000 while spending the summer working on Hornby Island I adopted the cutest little orange tabby that you ever saw. She was so tiny and so lovable that I carried her around in my little handbag while I worked cleaning campsites. She was the hippie version of the chihuahua in a purse. I named her Sprout. During the day she stayed with me, working and driving around in my car. And at night she cuddled with me in my damp, dark cabin.

She came with a lung infection that gave her a rattling cough. The infection eventually killed all the other kittens from her litter. But Sprout (being the only one who was adopted) got expensive vet care, paid for through the savings of my cleaning job, and she recovered nicely.

I wish I could show you photographs of how cute she was back then but that was during the age of film so I have none on this computer.

Sprout has been a loyal companion for over twelve years now. She was with me through the trials and tribulations of my twenties - probably the most significant period of personal growth I will ever have. Through break-ups and make-ups, depression and elation she was there. She was there when I came home from dates, from work, from long days at the beach.  She was there when I didn't come home at all.

She snuggled with me under the blankets during lonely winter storms and she splayed out on top of the sheets when the summer nights were too hot to cuddle. She spent nights alone on top of the blankets when I stayed out all night and she begrudgingly slept on the couch when insensitive new boyfriends kicked her off the bed in the night.

Sprout was my baby for a long time. And I loved her as much as anyone loves their pet.

But the night I went into labour the cats (I have another named Bina, adopted specifically to keep Sprout company while I was at work) were whisked out of the house by my mom. The plan was for them to stay with my parents just until I got back on my feet. But things were so rough with Babe's colic that the cats stayed away longer than I had planned. Weeks turned into months and I was too tired to feel much guilt about not bringing them home. I wrote about leaving the cats  here before.

Finally I did fetch them. But Babe still wasn't sleeping well and Sprout, now old and finicky, paced the house meowing at all hours. I couldn't handle less sleep and J's grumblings about the noise so off she went, back to stay with my parents.

There was a new baby in the house. And Sprout's needs had all but dropped off my radar.

I felt really bad. I remembered that scene in The Lady and the Tramp when the other dogs warn Lady that her family won't love her as much when the human baby arrives. And sure enough, once the baby is there the previously pampered family dog is tripped over and scolded and left out in the cold. I knew I was betraying Sprout, but I was just so tired and so consumed with Babe. And honestly, the love I had for my cats now paled in comparison to the love I had for Babe.

This last year Sprout has aged a lot. She finally came home again but the meowing and the pacing got worse. I took her to the vet with a Googled diagnosis of hyperthyroidism and the tests confirmed it. They put her on medication and the manic behaviour subsided.

But clearly there is something else wrong with my little kitty. She's rapidly losing weight (a pound in the last month alone). And in the last couple weeks she has all but ceased eating and drinking. The food sits in the bowl all day, growing stale until I replace it with fresh stuff in the hopes that maybe she feels better today. She must be drinking a little but I've seen no sign of it. At night I sometimes hear her struggling to chew a couple dry kibbles, but she won't touch the canned food, chicken, tuna or kitten milk that I've got here for her.

I took her back to the vet the other day and explained my problem. I'm a single mom on employment insurance, with no job to go back to when the support runs out at the end of the month. The cat is already elderly and frail from an injury that almost cost her her life a few years back. As much as I love her I simply can't justify spending hundreds, possibly thousands of dollars on diagnostic tests that will surely reveal a problem too expensive for me to fix.

Logically it makes sense. I have to think of the baby and myself right now. I've been looking for work for over a month already. What if I drop a ton of money on vet bills and then I can't pay the rent?

But I feel like a terrible person. This creature that has obsessively loved me every day, who has been my loyal companion and has literally licked the tears off my cheeks is dying and I won't help her. Through all the friends and lovers who have come and gone she was always there. She never left me. And now in her darkest hour I feel like I'm failing her.

I am trying. I bought her some medication to ease her nausea and stimulate her appetite. I'm eye-dropping water into her mouth and trying to keep the baby from terrorizing her while she is so fragile. But I'm only treating the symptoms, she probably has a tumor or a serious illness. If I had the money maybe she could be fixed. Maybe she could have another few years of good health. But instead I've had to decide she either gets better on her own or she doesn't.

And maybe I'm anthropomorphizing but I feel like she understands the situation. She used to be terrified of the babies I brought home. But she loves Babe and even as sick as she is wants nothing more than to cuddle with us while I'm nursing. She follows me around but stays out of the way. And aside from the pill I have to jam down her throat every night she seems resigned to her daily regimen of medicines.

I'm still hoping she will get better and be our kitty for a few more years. But if she doesn't improve I hope she forgives me for turning so much of my attention away.

Review: Jeep Liberty Stroller.

OK, as promised but way later than anticipated, here is my review of the Jeep Liberty stroller by Kolcraft.

When Babe and I went to D.C. back in June I used my friend's Jeep stroller for most of the week. And by the end of our visit I decided to buy one and fly it home.

The stroller has most of the features that I was looking for in a jogger:
*note: Jeep says this is NOT a jogger

Parent and baby trays.
Locking and swivel front wheel.
Air inflated tires with decent tread.
Reclining seat.
Large storage basket.
Five point harness.

Most importantly I wanted a jogger with both a locking and swivel front wheel. I couldn't handle the idea of having a stationary front wheel because I also wanted to use the stroller for walks, shopping and errands. But I did want the locking option for running or rollerblading (not recommended uses).

At 30 lbs the stroller is rather heavy for a jogger, which is probably why Kolcraft says it's not a jogger. But it works just fine for my light mommy jogs on even ground. There are times when I'm really tired and I wish it was lighter but usually I don't notice the weight difference between it and other joggers.

It is a little on the heavy side when lifting it in and out of the truck but after a long day with the kids what stroller doesn't feel too heavy? And be prepared; it's still pretty big when folded so if you have a small trunk it's not going to fit (the folded dimensions are apx. 20x26x35). The one-handed fold down is great.

The 12" tires are decent. I've had it for over three months now and I haven't had to inflate them once. And when Babe and I were on Hornby Island I used the stroller at Helliwell Provincial Park and it did a decent job on the uneven trails of gravel and roots. I do wish they were a little bigger and the locking mechanism on the front wheel is a little flimsy.

I like the colour combos of the Jeep strollers. Mine is light grey, dark grey and teal blue. My girlfriend has a black and lime green one which is also cool. I think the colours are nicer than some of the other strollers out there which only come in reds or oranges.

I also like the oversized storage basket. It can easily fit our diaper bag and extra toys, a blanket etc...One great feature of the basket is that it extends out under the feet so when Babe drops a toy or kicks off a shoe it (usually) falls right down into the basket. There are also two saddle bags for extra storage. 

It's a small thing but I like that the stroller has reflectors on the sides. Our last stroller didn't and I had to attach bike reflectors to it because we are often walking in the dark, especially in the winter.

The speaker is a fun bonus. It is removable if you are worried about getting it stolen or if you want to take your tunes with you. Of course it's not great quality (we aren't talking Bang and Olufsen here) and it doesn't go very loud but that's probably to protect delicate baby ears and other people from having to hear your music. It's also a little odd that the speaker faces out towards the baby rather then towards you.

I loved that it was compatible with our Graco car seat (see the website for a list of compatible car seats). It made it easy to transport a sleeping Babe from the car to the stroller and vise versa.

And I also like that the baby tray is removable because it is kind of in Babe's line of sight when attached. The steering wheel feature is fun too but is definitely designed for bigger kids. There is no way Babe could play with it comfortably until she is at least a year and a half - probably older. I took it off until then because it's just in the way.

I also like that the front wheel has a foot rest/shield over it - this prevents bigger kids from having their feet hanging down around the turning tire, an oversight on some three-wheeled strollers.

There are some cons to the Jeep Liberty stroller though. The sunshade could be a lot better, it doesn't go forward enough for my liking. But it does have a peek-a-boo window in the top, which is a bonus.

When you fold the stroller the seat has to be in a recline position. This isn't a big deal, just a little annoying because I always forget and then can't get it to close properly.

The seat is roomy and pretty comfortable but the sides have no padding. Unfortunately the side bars are right at Babe's head level. So whenever we go over bumps or the stroller shakes a bit Babe bangs her head on the bars. This has led to tears more times than I can count. I've finally resorted to folding a tea towel over the bars to protect her head until she is taller.

There is also no hand brake which is an important feature of a jogging stroller. This is probably another reason why Kolcraft doesn't advertise this one as a jogger. That missing feature was the one thing that made me hesitate in buying it because I would like to use it for rollerblading in the future but without hand brake I'm a little uncomfortable about using it at higher speeds. 

The stroller definitely isn't high quality. It's mostly plastic and I can tell it won't last forever. But considering my next best choice was a BOB stroller that cost almost $500 the Jeep was a pretty safe bet. At $175 US I could buy a new one when Babe is two and it would still be cheaper than the BOB.

It's also important to note that Kolcraft was excellent in sending replacement parts. Toys R Us sold me an open box with three missing parts and then I had to call the stroller company to get the parts replaced. I was mad that I had to get the parts mailed out instead of replaced at the store but one call to Kolcraft and the parts were in the mail. They arrived at my Canadian address a few days later. Also construction of the stroller was super easy, took only about 15 minutes and I don't think even required any tools. 

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.