Update Day

1. The triathlon is in 3 DAYS people! And I am happy to report that in the 7 short weeks that I have been training, I have gone from barely being able to go a single kilometer, to being able to complete 5 kilometers in 30 minutes or less. (Some days I'm a little slower than others). My sister Erin has been swimming and biking her little butt off, and I think we're going to kick some ass! Mostly because there are only 7 teams we are competing against……but still! Go Team Graham Girls!

2. I now brush my teeth eleventy billion times a day. Ever since the "your mouth smells bad" incident, Gracie has decided that it is her duty to inform me every time my breath is less than minty fresh. Which, I guess is better than wandering around with breath so bad it makes small children cry, but we are going to need to buy some shares in whatever giant company makes Aquafresh before this is all over.

3. Speaking of wee Gracie, have I told you that she now reads to me? Okay, not really. But she does have several of her favorite books memorized WORD FOR WORD. She brings me the book and says "I'LL read YOU a story Mommy!" Then she sits down, and reads me the book, word for word, from start to finish. She's even got about half of Harold and the Purple Crayon in that little brain of hers. Did I mention that SHE DIDN'T EVEN SPEAK until about 3 months ago?????

I think that's it. It's been a whole 20 minutes since I last brushed my teeth, so I guess I'd better go and see if I pass inspection.

Why didn't someone tell me??

One of the very best things about having a kid who goes from not speaking, to speaking full sentences in mere weeks, (besides "OH MY GOD, I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE'S FINALLY TALKING TO ME!!!) is that you can ask her about the little things she used to scream about but couldn't explain.

For example, for a very long time now, Gracie has not let me give her a kiss. (Or greatly protested when I managed to land a stealthy smooch on her cheek, which was often). Before she could talk, she would let out a howl and push me away, which, I have to admit, hurt my feelings just a teeny, tiny bit. And then, once she started to talk, it turned into NO THANK YOU MOMMY! And finally, ended up NO KISSES, JUST HUGS PLEASE MOMMY!

So yesterday, curiosity got the best of me. I just HAD TO KNOW why the kid didn't want me to kiss her. I mean, there had to be a good reason, right?

Me: "Can you tell me why you don't like it when Mommy gives you kisses?"

Gracie: "Your mouth smells bad Mommy."

Me: (Blink. Blink.) "Does my mouth always smell bad?"

Gracie: "No, just sometimes. Well, lots of sometimes."

Me: "If I go upstairs and brush my teeth, then can I give you kisses?"

Gracie: "YES!!!"

So, there you have it. Apparently I've been walking around with buzzard breath for years, and all of you wonderful people have been too nice to tell me to go and get a breath mint before the stench coming out of my mouth kills you.

Now if you will excuse me, I'm going to brush my teeth.

I help you mommy!

I swear to God, I didn't put her up to this. She was happily playing in the living room while I was in the kitchen washing the floor, when she suddenly came running into the kitchen yelling: "I help you Mommy!" So, I decided that if she was going to offer to help me, there was NO WAY I was going to turn her down. I handed her a cloth, and ran for the camera.

The first of many, I'm sure…

Nate took Gracie on her very first horsie ride on Sunday. She grinned the entire time, except for the moments when I was trying to take her picture. So, when it was over, we plunked her on the saddle all by herself and it was there that I best captured the grin.

I may have altered my very DNA…

So, I tried a little something new this morning. I got up before everyone else, went outside and ran 5 km.

(I'm going to pause for dramatic effect here, because anyone who knows me is staring at their screen with their mouths agape, unable to comprehend what they just read. "She got up EARLY? And then went RUNNING? DENICE?!?!")

Yes, I did. Now, I should reveal that getting up before everyone else in my house means getting up at 7:30 a.m. and not at the crack of dawn or anything. But still, for me, it might as well have been 5 a.m., because I am NOT A MORNING PERSON. Usually, it takes a good hour of wandering around aimlessly and A LOT of caffeine before I feel like a human being. And even then, I don't really have enough brain cells firing on all cylinders to be a fully functioning human being until at least 1 p.m.

But, I needed to make a change. I prefer to do my running at night, but lately there have just been too many obstacles getting in the way. Either Gracie goes to bed too late, or I have work to do for the paper, or I'm just busy having fun 'cause it's summer and there are places to go, people to see! Which is great, but I wasn't getting any exercise. And there's this little promise I made to my sister about the Fort Macleod Triathlon, and it's getting closer every day, so… I got my butt out of bed and went running.

And I didn't die! In fact, I kinda liked it. It was cooler outside than when I run in the evening, and hardly anyone else on the path I like to take. I let myself walk for a little while first until I woke up a bit, but as soon as the Black Eyed Peas started telling me to "Pump It!" I was off and running.

The only problem is, usually, when I run at night, I give it my all. 110% and all that cliche crap. I work as hard as I possibly can, then come home and collapse on my couch until my heart stops trying to jump out of my chest. Then, (and here's the important part), I GO TO BED. Because I'm exhausted! I have the best sleep in the history of sleep, and I wake up in the morning all rested and refreshed.

But people, here's the thing I had not considered when I left the house this morning. When you give it your all in a 5 km run first thing in the morning, you don't get to go home and go to bed when you're done. YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT THROUGH THE WHOLE REST OF THE DAY!

It took my body awhile to accept that. It was all "Are you kidding me? You want me to like, DO STUFF now? You got me out of bed at the crack of 7:30 a.m., made me run 5 km, and now you want me to go about my day as if nothing happened? I DON'T THINK SO!"

But I got it to keep going by promising it that if Gracie had a nap today, it could nap too. Don't know what I'm going to have to promise it tomorrow…

Found my shoes!

Okay, I'm back from my second 5 km run…gasp…cough…wheeze… and I really think I can do this. Not tomorrow or anything (oh, I would be in big trouble if the race was tomorrow!) but I've still got 7 more weeks before the race. That's lots of time, right?

Right?

I'm only on my second run, but I'm already making progress. Tonight I made it 3 km without stopping. Which is waaaaay better than the first run I did last night, which was spent intermittently jogging and walking, and thinking that I had made a very, very, VERY big mistake.

I'm just so excited. I can do this! I can totally do this! I certainly won't be winning the race or anything, but I really only have three goals for this race:
1. Have a fun day with my sister
2. Lose some of those last 15 pounds that seem to be holding onto my body with a titanium grip.
3. Not embarrass myself by coming in dead last.

I can totally do this!

Better find my running shoes…

I have either done something very smart, or very stupid. I'm not sure which.

I have agreed to run the 5 km part of a half triathlon, for my sister who can no longer run. She will do the swimming and the biking, and I will run. Fun sister bonding, right? Except that I have yet to run one single step this year. And the race is August 15.

I have been doing A LOT of step aerobics in my basement for the last couple of months, including a super kick-ass interval workout that has whipped me into much better shape in a pretty short period of time. So I'm confident that my newfound fitness should fairly easily translate into a decent run time.

I also really need an excuse to push myself a little bit harder so I can lose that last 10 pounds. I find I do much better when I'm working towards a specific goal. I enjoy exercise so I do it anyway; but I push myself just that much harder when I'm working towards a goal.

I can do this, right?

Right?

Somebody tell me I'm right!!!

I'm going to go for my first run tonight as soon as I put Gracie to bed. I'll update you on how stupid this idea is tomorrow.

What have I been up to, you ask?

So, things have been pretty boring around here lately. Boring, boring, boring. Nothing new. Nothing new at all. Zip, nada, nothing.

Oh, wait. Come to think of it, there is this one little thing that happened. Gracie started talking. But you know, no big deal or anything.

Hee hee hee.

Oh My God you guys!!! She's talking!!! And not just words -- whole sentences! Like, a month ago she was pointing at things, and today she is saying "Yes Please" and "No Thank You" and "Chicken and Rice for Supper Please!"

This morning, I said we were out of milk and she said: "Shopping At Superstore?" Seriously! I'm so excited I could explode. No, I'm so excited that there are not enough exclamation marks in the world to properly convey it.

Okay, seriously, I can't tell you how nice it is to have a conversation with my Gracie. I can ask her a question, and get a real answer! I don't have to play a reeeeaaaallllyyy long game of charades to find out if she wants water or milk to drink. Or what part of her is injured when she comes running to me with tears streaming down her face. Or where she put that damn brown horse…

It's also really intriguing to find out what has been going on in that head of hers. For example, there's this game she has been playing for months that goes like this: Two horses climb up to the top of a chair, one falls down to the seat, and she lets out a series of squeals. Then the other horse comes down to the seat and she kind of mumbles something while they hug each other. But the other day, the squeals turned into: "Help! Help!" and "I'll save you!" and the mumbles turned into: "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" And NOW I understand what the game is!

I'm just! so! excited! that I am beside myself with glee. And no, I don't think I'll ever wish that she would just shut up. At least not yet, anyway.

SHE'S TALKING! SHE'S TALKING! SHE'S TALKING!!!!!

Figurative vs. Literal for the 2-year-old

Lesson for the day:

DO NOT, under any circumstances, tell your 2-year-old that there is a frog in your throat when your voice goes a little funny.

It will lead to looks of fear, a very long discussion about how it's just something people say, and will end with you digging out a flashlight and opening your mouth very wide so the 2-year-old can see for herself that there is no real live frog in your throat.

Learn from my mistakes people. Learn from my mistakes.

She can't talk, but…

I don't let Gracie eat much junk food, but these multi-grain alphabet pretzels are just so much fun, I make them a regular treat. She's still not really talking, but she can PICK OUT THE LETTERS OF HER NAME from a pile of alphabet pretzels, and help me put them in the right order. Now, I'm pretty new to this parenting thing, but I think that's pretty impressive for a kid who's just over 2 years old.

She's also getting really good at spelling Horse. Only she's quite sure there needs to be another E at the end of horse. I asked her if that made it a Horsie, and she said "uh-huh". But then, I could ask her if we should go get a root canal tomorrow, and she would probably say "uh-huh" to that too.

Conversation with a Non-Verbal 2-Year-Old

You may think that it's impossible to have a real conversation with a two-year-old who only speaks three words, but you would be wrong. Behold, an actual conversation we had today:

Me, talking to Gracie while folding laundry in my bedroom:
"What would you like to do tomorrow sweet pea?"

Gracie: Runs to her bedroom, brings me her bathing suit, gives me the sign language signs for "more", then "please."

Me: "You want to go swimming tomorrow?"

Gracie: "Um-hmm!"

Me: "Okay! That sounds like fun! I was hoping it would be warm enough by now that we could go for your first visit to the zoo, but it just keeps snowing, doesn't it?"

Gracie: Brings me her stuffed elephant and holds it up.

Me: "Yes, that's right! There are elephants at the zoo. What other animals do you think we'll see there?"

Gracie: Brings me a book with a picture of a hippo, flips to that page and points.

Me: "Yes, that's right! There are hippos at the zoo too. What other animals do you think we'll see?"

Gracie: Holds up her very beloved brown horse.

Me: "No, I don't think there are any horses at the zoo. There are zebras though. Zebras are like horses but with stripes…"

Gracie: Has now thrown herself down on my bed and started to yell while kicking her legs and flailing her arms.

Me: "I'm sorry sweet pea, but there are no horses at the zoo. You can yell all you want, but it's not up to Mommy which animals are at the zoo. That would be a fun job though…"

Gracie: Looks up and notices that I'm not paying any attention to her fit at all, and am instead daydreaming about the animals I would have in my very own zoo. She gets up, gets off the bed, hugs my leg, looks up at me, then holds up brown horse.

Me: "You want to go see the horses at Grandma and Grandpa's house instead of going to the zoo?"

Gracie: "Um-hmm!!!!!"

Me: "Well sweet pea, I'm sure we can do both."

Gracie: "Um-hmm."

Happy Birthday to me!

Tomorrow is my birthday. My 35th birthday, to be exact.

Don't worry. You aren't going to have to listen to me whine about getting older. 'Cause I'm not really one of those people who worries about getting older. I look at the number 35 and think "holy crap! where did the time go?" but I don't spend any time worrying about getting older. That's life! And much better than the alternative, I don't you think?

No, I'm one of those people who, even though I should have outgrown getting excited about my birthday, I really have not. I guess that's why I don't feel old. Inside, I'm still a little kid who's excited that it's ONE MORE SLEEP UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!

Anyway…I've kinda planned a Denice's Day Of Fun for tomorrow.

I'm going to get up early (read: before Gracie does) and have a shower so I'm all ready for the day. Then, when Gracie wakes up I'm going to get her dressed, put her in the Jeep, and head for the Tim Horton's drive-thru, where I will be purchasing some of their yummy Trail Mix cookies for our breakfast. Yes, I know that I probably should provide Gracie with something more nutritious for her breakfast. But, it's only one day, right? And there's lots of dried cranberries, and nuts, and oatmeal in there……

Then, we'll head to my favorite-est place in the whole wide world. IKEA!!!!!! There's a couple little things I'd like to buy, but mostly, I want to wander through the kitchen stuff and pick out the cabinets I'd like to buy for the house in the country we've been talking about building in the not-too-distant future. (More on this soon.)

We'll have lunch in their restaurant, then head home in time for Gracie's nap time. (If I can get her to have a nap that is. She's phasing out the naps already!)

I'm not sure what we'll do in the afternoon. But at 6 p.m. I'll head to the curling rink for a few snacks and drinks with the girls on my curling team before we head out on the ice. We are in the league playoffs, and our next game is on tomorrow.

I'm smiling just thinking about it. Ikea and curling -- what a great day it's going to be!!!

Denice and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

So Denice: Melodramatic much?

I'm sorry about the Drama Queen entry the other day. I was just having a SUPER BAD DAY and I took it out on the old keyboard. I feel kinda foolish now.

I pride myself on being the kind of person who doesn't dwell on things, and picks herself up and cheerfully learns from her mistakes. You know, lemonade from lemons and all that crap.

And up until the other day, I think I had been doing a pretty good job of it. Truthfully? I wasn't really enjoying my job anymore, and quitting was kind of a relief. I was actually starting to get excited about all the possibilities that quitting my business might open up. For example, I'm seriously thinking about opening a dayhome.

You see, I LOVE kids, and I love being a stay-at-home mom. I love singing along to Raffi and reading the same story 12 times. (But 12 times is my limit. You gotta stop somewhere). I love going to the park, and making cookies and doing crafts. I have even been known to enjoy an episode or two of the Backyardigans. So I think running a dayhome could be something I might be good at, and I've started doing a little research.

Plus, I'm pretty sure there will always be some work for me to do at the newspaper if I want it.

And you know what? I love blogging. And I haven't had time to do it in FOREVER! Now, I have time. And exercise! God I've missed exercise! I've been doing my favorite step aerobics DVDs at night after Gracie goes to bed, and I feel great!

But the other day, it just kind of HIT ME, you know? And on that particular day, no amount of blowing sunshine up its butt was going to make me feel better about my miserable failure. So, I blogged about it, then I went downstairs and did some serious cardio work, and felt 800 times better.

So thank you all for your hugs and words of encouragement. It made me feel so much better on a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Big Fat Failure

Well you guys, I'm depressed today. And I need to talk about it, so I'm going to write about it. Hope I don't bum you out too much.

You see, I'm a big fat failure. I have failed to run my business well, and so my business has failed. I'm so sad and mad at myself I just want to cry, and yell, and throw things at the wall. I wanted so badly to do well at this. My whole family depended on it. My husband depended on me to help provide some income, and my daughter depended on me to make my plan to work from home succeed, so that she would never have to spend a day in child care.

And I have failed. I have failed them all.

I made bad decisions, but most of all, I was a bad business person. Because you know what? I can design you a kick-ass logo or a beautiful ad, but I'm not good at the business end of it. I was hoping I would learn as I went - but I had trouble finding enough time to do it all.

Because working from home with a toddler? I certainly didn't think it was going to be easy – in fact I was pretty sure it was going to be really hard, and I spent my entire year of maternity leave worrying about how I was going to do it – and in the end, I was right. It totally kicked my ass.

Gracie is not the kind of kid who will go play by herself. She is my right-hand girl, my helper extraordinaire. She would like to follow me around all day and help me do what I am doing. Which is actually quite fun when I am doing laundry or sweeping the floor. But not so fun when I'm trying to get some design work done and she wants to sit on my lap and play on the computer. And so, I would put her to bed and then sit at the computer all night trying to get my work done. Or worse, I would blow off a night of working when I really shouldn't have, just to have a night to sit next to my husband on the couch, eat popcorn and watch TV.

I was so tired. Physically, and mentally. But I should have persevered. Because now? I've failed, and I have to find some other way of making some money for my family.

Okay, enough of the pity party. I just needed to get it out, before it all came out of me in a river of tears.

Time to pull up my socks and figure out a way to FIX it.

Tomorrow: My plan to fix this stupid mess I've gotten myself into.

Say Please!

So we've been working on manners here at the Denice-isms household lately.

I had originally planned to teach Gracie about saying "Please" and "Thank You" just as soon as some words started popping out of her mouth, but those words are coming more slowly than I might have hoped, and she is getting big enough that her demands were becoming, well, awfully demanding, and just a touch rude.

So a couple weeks ago I decided that please and thank you needed to come a little sooner than the words, and looked into a little bit of sign language. A girl who is a good friend of the family and whose mother taught her sign language as a baby filled me in on the sign for Thank You, but didn't remember the sign for Please, so I just made one up. I figured it didn't really matter what the real sign was, so long as Gracie and I knew that it meant Please; so I told her to clasp her hands together with her fingers interlocking.

It took a few tries, not because she had trouble putting her hands together, but because she had to put down Brown Horse, and have I mentioned that she takes that Little People horse EVERYWHERE SHE GOES? But eventually she put down Brown Horse and clasped those cute little hands together with a big grin on her face and we were off and running.

For the last two weeks, we have had 8,234 discussions about saying Please whenever you want someone to do something for you, or give you something. And whenever she was reminded, she always very quickly put her little hands together -- but you had to tell her first. And to be honest, I really didn't expect her to do it without prompting right away. I just wanted to start laying a foundation so that when she got a little bigger it would just happen automatically.

But today she did it! Without any prompting!

We were at Wal-Mart this afternoon to pick up a few things, and I stopped for a minute at the seasonal section right near the front door. I was looking through the Valentine's Day stuff for something that I could put into goodie bags for the guests at Gracie's birthday party next weekend, when I felt a little tug at my hand. I looked down to see my horsie loving daughter hugging the daylights out of an awfully cute pink stuffed horse. She looked up at me with those giant blue eyes, then clasped her little hands together to say "Please?"

Now, nearly every time we go shopping, my horsie loving daughter finds some sort of stuffed animal that she would like to take home, and I almost always say no. She has MANY, MANY animals already (and a great majority of them are horses), and she really didn't need another one.

But today, I totally caved. I mean, I had to, right? I've spent the last two weeks telling her to say please, and today she did it! I had to give her some positive reinforcement, right?

Ya, ya. I know. I'm the biggest softie in the universe.

Okay, 2 seconds before I took this picture, she had the new pink pony tucked her her arm while still holding onto Brown Horse with one hand, but she moved just before I took the picture. And while I am the sort of Mom who will risk waking up her almost 2-year-old to get a really cute picture while she's sleeping, I'm not the sort of Mom who will re-pose her child while she's sleeping. If you look close, you can see 4 horses in this picture.

Back to the grind

I've sort of, kind of, gone back to work at the newspaper.

The guy who took my old job quit, and the new woman they hired couldn't start until three days before he was done. So since she needed more training than that, they asked me to come in and help out for the month of January.

"Just mornings on Mondays and Tuesdays until she gets up to speed," they said.
"Nathan can stay home with Gracie and come to work later," they said.
"It'll all work out just fine!" they said.

They were wrong.

This woman, who is in her late 50s and quite possibly the nicest person on the planet, is not even remotely qualified for the job. Forget about running an entire production department by herself - she doesn't understand how to use a computer. She saves files in the wrong place, doesn't understand the file extensions that tell you what kind of file it is, and email, well, don't get me started on the email.

So I've been there A LOT more than I had originally planned. I get home later than I was supposed to and that puts Nathan behind. Gracie doesn't quite understand what's going on and is getting a little bit grumpy about it. And I'm starting to get behind on the work I do for a client of mine.

Only two weeks to go. I hope.

Good thing nobody from child services was watching…

So, Gracie is fast approaching her second birthday, and is still not really talking. She has two words: ask her what a dog says and she'll say "WOOF!"; and any time she needs to give us a positive answer, she'll very enthusiastically say "a ha!"

I would be more worried about the lack of talking, except that she's really excellent at communicating what she wants, and makes it abundantly clear that she knows exactly what I am saying. We've worked out a little system of sign language and hand gestures that work pretty well, but sometimes it's a little like spending my day playing a really long game of charades.

Some days, though, are easier than others. Like today.

We went to the grocery store to pick up a few things, but the most important thing that we needed, that we absolutely couldn't leave the store without, was diapers.

As I was writing out my grocery list before we left, Gracie came to see what I was doing. She pulled her chair up to the counter, climbed up, and pointed to each item on the list; so I read the list out to her, one by one. When I said bread, she pointed to the freezer; when I said soy milk, she pointed to the fridge; when I said soup, she pointed to the pantry; and when I said diapers, she pointed straight to her crotch. I told her that she was exactly right, that was where all of those items belonged.

Then I packed her up and took her to the grocery store. And left the list sitting on the counter.

So, I'm wandering through the aisles at the grocery store, trying to remember what was on the list. I'm doing pretty well, but I know there's something important I'm missing, and I can't think of what it is. So I say to Gracie, mostly just to entertain her: "What else do we need to get today? Mommy can't remember. We've got the bread, the milk and the soup. What else was on the list?"

She turned around and looked into the cart, then looked at me for a moment; then suddenly she grinned this huge grin, lifted one arm up over her head, then pointed, rather forcefully, at her crotch.

"That's right!" I laughed. "Diapers! We need diapers! Thank you Gracie!"

Merry Christmas!!!

Just wanted to write a little note to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

The most beautiful blanket

When I first found out I was pregnant with Gracie, I decided I wasn't going to tell anyone or buy anything until I hit my second trimester. At 32, I was no spring chicken to be having my first baby, and I just couldn't bear the thought of having to call my family and friends and face a room full of baby stuff if something bad should happen.

But it didn't stop me from perusing the baby sections of Wal-Mart and the Superstore every time I went shopping. I just couldn't help myself. I would wander down the aisles and look at all the cute clothes and gear, and wonder whether I needed to buy the blue stuff or the pink stuff, and all the usual things that pregnant women can't help but wonder about their unborn child.

And then one night, about a couple weeks until I reached the second trimester mark, I was daydreaming at Wal-Mart when I saw a blanket on the shelf. I'm not sure what it was about that blanket, but I was instantly drawn to it. It was a beautiful pale yellow, soft as soft can be, and had a little velvet Winnie-the-Pooh appliqued in the corner. There were prettier, fancier blankets on that same shelf; but something told me I needed to have another look at this particular blanket. I pulled it off the shelf to really feel it, and a Wal-Mart employee who was stocking the shelves nearby told me that if I liked it, I had better buy it now because the manufacturers weren't making it anymore.

I put it up to my face and rubbed it against my cheek. It was so soft and cozy. It was as if all my wanting and hoping and anticipation for this beautiful little person inside me was embodied in this blanket. I had to have it, second trimester pact be damned.

It was the very first thing I bought for Gracie.

Fast forward about 7 months. By then, we had our girl Gracie, and her room was jam-packed full of pink gifts from friends and relatives and various other well-wishers. And the booty of gifts included about a zillion baby blankets. Blankets that were better for swaddling, and that fit much better in her little bassinet that she slept in right next to my bed. I looked at the big and bulky yellow Winnie-the-Pooh blanket I had bought and put it aside in favor of the other smaller blankets.

Soon it was hot, hot summertime, and my little furnace was not interested in any blankets of any kind, except for maybe a light receiving blanket to cuddle with at night. Every once in awhile while I was putting away laundry, I would pick up the yellow blanket and snuggle it, then put it back. It was much too warm for those sweltering hot days.

Then as autumn fell upon us, and the nights grew colder, I pulled out that beautiful yellow blanket. When she went to bed that night, I put it on her and it fit just perfectly in her crib. She grabbed it with her little fist, rubbed it against her cheek just like I had done in the store over a year before, closed her eyes and went to sleep. When I went to get her in the morning, she was still clutching that blanket tight. When I picked her up, she wouldn't let go. We held onto it and took it downstairs with us. We snuggled in it while we had our morning bottle. It sat next to her on the floor while she played, and she dragged it behind her while she toodled around in her walker. That night, she wouldn't go to bed without it.

And it's been like that every day since.

It's her first favorite thing, that beautiful blanket that I picked out for her. And I get a little tiny lump in my throat whenever I see her give it a little snuggle. I knew she would love it. I just knew it.

Come quick! I've got baby pics!

Who wants to see cute pictures of new babies?
You do? I thought so.

This one is my sister Erin's new baby Ella, with her very proud big sister Olivia. She was born on November 4.



This one is my sister Angie's new baby Zoey, who was born on November 15. Don't you just want to take them all and squeeze 'em? And kiss their little heads? Maybe it's just me.

Um, my dog ate my blog…

So, did you ever have an entire two months where life just was so busy you didn't have time for anything extra? Like, say, writing your blog? Even though writing your blog is one of your very favorite things to do?

I'm sorry I've been gone for so long everybody. Life just got super crazy. First we got the plague. (Oh My God were we ever sick!) Then I decided that perhaps these extra post-pregnancy pounds really weren't going to magically disappear on their own, and I started exercising while Gracie naps -- which is when I used to blog. Then, we sold our newspaper and promptly bought two new-to-us vehicles, which takes up more of your time than you might think…

So, I'm five pounds thinner and in much better shape, and I now drive a 2005 Jeep Liberty (which I LOVE!!!!) - but other than that I guess I have nothing to show for my more than two-month blogging break.

If I post some cute pictures of Gracie tomorrow, will that make everything better?

Day 26

Goodbye crib, which was getting waaaay too small for me…


…Hello big girl bed, which gives me lots of room to stretch out!

Day 25

We got a sandbox for our back yard this week, and I think Gracie's in heaven. Playing in the sand outside in the sunshine, taking a break to eat some fresh peas -- how could the summer get any better?

Day 24

Gracie and her cousins went to Heritage Park last week. I tried to get a good photo, but nobody would pose for me and, well, it was absolutely baking outside and the little darlings were a wee bit cranky. This photo was taken in the train that goes around the park, which was actually a big hit.

Day 23

Look! Mommy bought me crayons! They're fat and triangular and fit in my little hand just perfectly. And thank goodness they're washable, because I also figured out that you CAN use them to write on anything you want, even though Mommy said they were just for paper!

Day 22

Look how great my peas are growing! I think we will be able to eat them in a few days. I've never grown peas before - I'm so excited!

Day 21

mmmmmm…spaghetti!

Day 20

I love these shoes. Love, Love, LOVE them. They are cute and red and the most comfortable things I've ever put on my feet. And so I wear them a lot. Like, so often that the 3-year-old from two doors down has noticed.

"Why you wear dose shoes always?" he asked me the other day. "I don't ALWAYS wear them," I stammered. "Ya you do!" he yelled. "Well, they're my favorites and so I like to wear them a lot…" I tried to explain. (And later, I wondered why I was trying to justify myself to the neighbour's 3-year-old; but that's another post). "Um, okay…" said the 3-year-old.

The bottom line is: I'm 34 years old and I really like these shoes and I can wear them every day if I want to. :)

Day 20

Five years ago today, we said "I Do." And what a wonderful five years it's been.
(I guess I'm cheating a little bit. This picture was taken on July 26, 2003.)

Day 19

I call this one, "Hey Daddy…What's that?"

Day 18

Isn't this picture amazing? Nate took it this afternoon while Gracie and I were in the back yard finger painting and blowing bubbles.

Day 17

Gracie loves rice. Plain, flavored, she doesn't care. Give her a fork and she'll shovel it in. Tonight, when she heard the noise the rice cooker makes when it's done, she immediately ran for her step stool and stood in front of it at the counter, pointing and yelling. When I finally came into the kitchen she gesticulated wildly at the rice cooker, rubbed her tummy very enthusiastically (her sign that she's hungry), then got off her stool and tried to climb into her high chair. I wasn't sure what time Nate would be home for supper, so I thought it wouldn't hurt if I fed her early.

By the time Nate got home she had already polished off a big bowl of rice and pork chops, so I let her out of her chair to run around while we ate supper. Well, she headed straight for her bookshelf, brought her Daddy her favorite book and installed herself on his lap. Daddy started reading, and the next thing he knew, Gracie had his fork and was eating his rice. I got him another fork :)

Day 16

This is Gracie's bathroom step stool that came with her potty seat. I keep it in the bathroom for her so she can wash her hands after she goes to the bathroom. But yesterday, while she was using it to wash her hands, she got this look on her face, and if she was a cartoon, a light bulb would have turned on over her head. "I can use this ANYWHERE!", she would have said if she could actually talk.

She picked up the stool, ran into the kitchen with it, and immediately climbed up to the kitchen counter. Then she moved it over to the other counter in front of the dishwasher, and grabbed her soother with a great big grin. Unfortunately, my picture missed the big grin.

Day 15

Have you heard about this cookbook yet? Every recipe in this book has some sort of pureed vegetable in it, so that if your children are refusing to eat their veggies, you can hide them in their favorite recipes like chicken nuggets and grilled cheese sandwiches. There was a huge debate when it came out - while some parents went YAY!!!, many other parents thought hiding veggies in their entrees was giving in to your picky children, and failing to teach them about proper nutrition.

Personally, I see it as good way to get a little extra nutrition in the recipes that maybe aren't so great for you. Especially in the dessert recipes.

So…I've been trying lots of recipes from this book lately, and pictured in the jar are the very yummy donuts - although I didn't have a donut mold to bake them in so I just baked them in my mini-muffin tin and made my own "Timbits" instead. They're made from pureed pumpkin, and are just about the yummiest things I've ever put in my mouth. (You also have to try the chocolate pudding made from pureed avocado. Heavenly!)

Day 14

This is both a cute picture and a thank you to Jody Spark and family for the lovely present, because Gracie LOVES this puzzle. When she was really little, I would bring the puzzle out, point to each letter and tell her that it spells Gracie. She would just give me this weird look, grab the puzzle pieces and play.

Now whenever I bring out the puzzle, before she flips it over to play with it, she points to each letter and makes me spell it out, and when I'm done she very enthusiastically points to herself with a great big smile.

Day 13

Poor Gracie had a nasty fall at the park. She was running and tripped over her own feet and landed on her head, right on the birthmark on her forehead, which makes it look worse than it actually is.

Day 12

This is Puppy, one of Gracie's beloved stuffed animals. It's not a very good picture, but the other night, Puppy needed surgery. The seam on his back was coming apart and he is now missing an ear. I had kept track of the ear until I had time to do the surgery, but when it was time to wheel him to the O.R., the ear was nowhere to be found. So I stitched him up the best I could, and the next morning I showed Puppy to Gracie and I asked her if she knew where his ear went. She put her two palms up in the air like "I don't know!" and started looking. I got distracted and headed to the kitchen to start making breakfast, and a few minutes later, Gracie came running to the kitchen with it in her hand. Her father and I looked EVERYWHERE for that ear the night before. I have absolutely no idea where she was hiding it.

Day 11

MMMMMMMM…my very first bite of corn on the cob!

Day 10

It was a rainy, thunder and lightning kind of day today; a day that mommy thought was perfectly suited to inside play. Gracie, for the most part, agreed. She puttered around and played happily all day -- until she found her sidewalk chalk. And after explaining that it was pouring down rain outside and that sidewalk chalk was most definitely an OUTSIDE TOY, it suddenly occurred to mommy that there was a chalk board upstairs.

Nate built Gracie a wonderful toy box that has her named engraved on the lid, and for the outsides, he found chalkboard spray and made her two chalk boards. So, I handed our girl some chalk and let her draw on the furniture. She had a ball!

Day 9

Sorry I've been so lax at my picture taking lately. First, I had to work at the City View and remember how to be a workaholic again, so I just didn't have time to take any pictures -- or have anything interesting to take a picture of, really. Then, when Gracie got home from Grandma & Grandpa's, she was pretty much attached to me for a few days. Which was nice, 'cause I missed her so much I can't even describe it, but made it hard to take a picture -- how do you hold a camera when you are also holding a 30-pound toddler who is refusing to be put down? And the 30-pound toddler is also usually your inspiration for the picture?

Then, just as I was starting to be able to put her down again, she got the stomach flu and spent three days throwing up on pretty much every available surface in our house. The poor kid was so miserable she just wanted to sit on my lap and be read to or watch some videos. Every time she would throw up I would sit her on the couch when she was finished so I could clean it up, and the poor thing would cry giant crocodile tears until I was finished and could come and cuddle with her again. So…again, not exactly easy to take a photo. And what to take a photo of, exactly?

Well, this morning she was on the mend and willing to sit on the couch by herself, so I snapped this picture. She was watching her very favorite movie, 101 Dalmations.

Day 8

So, what do you think of my Canada Day cake? I made it a day late, but I decided "who cares?" I've been working at our newspaper the last few days, 'cause the guy who has my old job needed a vacation. Gracie has been staying with my parents and since they were bringing her home today, I thought I would make the cake for everyone to enjoy when they got here. If you want to make one, the recipe is at www.kraftcanada.com. It's WAAAAYYY easier than it looks!

Day 7

So, have I mentioned how much I love popcorn? And how much I love the sweet man who gave me this popcorn machine? Nate gave me this popcorn machine for Christmas, and it has been used nearly every night since. You buy these packages with the oil and the popcorn and the seasoning all in one, and you get popcorn that tastes EXACTLY LIKE MOVIE THEATRE POPCORN. I'm in heaven I tell you. Heaven!

Day 6

Gracie started doing this a few days ago. I take the tray away from the high chair and go to get something to wipe off her face and hands, and when I turn around, she's got her feet up in the air like she's auditioning for Cirque du Soleil.

Day 5

We live in a townhouse complex that is filled to the brim with young children. There are several buildings, each with 7 units, and they are built around a big U with a lawn in the middle. In our building of seven units alone, one family has six kids, one family has four kids, and another has three.

And if you take a drive around our big cul-de-sac you might think you've travelled back in time, because not one of those kids is sitting inside watching TV or playing video games. They are all outside playing with one another. Different ages, different families, different genders. Doesn't seem to matter to them: they just play. In the winter they make snowmen and snow angels and snow forts. In the summer they draw pictures with sidewalk chalk and have bike races down the sidewalk. Don't have a bike? That's okay, you can borrow mine. They share their toys, they take turns nicely -- I hardly ever hear them fight. I think it's the nicest part of living where we do.

When Gracie was small, she desperately wanted to go outside and play with those big kids. She would stand at the front door and watch them. And after awhile, those big kids started to notice her watching, and would come and make funny faces for her, or blow bubbles for her to look at. Then, when she got good enough at toddling around, I started taking her outside and holding her hand as she made a bee-line for those other kids. "Hi Baby!," they would yell when they saw her coming. The smile on her face was enormous.

Now that she can get around on her own, some of the younger kids have started showing up at my door, asking if Gracie and I can come out and play. It makes my heart soar.

Today, we went outside and these two kids came over to say hi. The girl, Kimberley, remembered that Gracie had enjoyed drawing with sidewalk chalk a few days ago, and went to her house to get some for us. Gracie grabbed the chalk and plunked right down on our sidewalk and had a wonderful time drawing with the big kids. The little boy is named Kale, and whenever Gracie and I go outside he follows us like a puppy and talks and talks and talks; although I have to admit I only understand about half of what he says.

(Kale has a little sister named Emerson who is about five months younger than Gracie, and has started standing at her front door, watching all the big kids. Yesterday, Gracie and I blew bubbles for her.)

Day 4

A few weeks ago I took the bottom shelf out of the upstairs linen closet so that I could put the vacuum and some other cleaning supplies there, and today, Gracie discovered that she could walk right in. After laughing about that for a few minutes, I showed her that there was a little place she could sit down, and I closed the door so we could play peek-a-boo. She thought that was SO MUCH FUN that I had to sit there for a good 20 minutes while she opened and closed the door. And as I sat there and said PEEK-A-BOO! every time she opened the door, I just kept thinking: "This is the best job I've ever had."

(There isn't much light in that part of the house so I had trouble getting a good picture. Of the 20 or so that I took, this one turned out the best. )

Day 3

Nathan built me these wonderful planters last fall. In addition to being beautiful, he made them super deep so that I can try and grow some vegetables. I planted peas in these ones, and they are starting to grow quite nicely. He also built me some bigger ones that we have on the other side of the yard. I planted green onions, carrots and spinach in those. I absolutely can't wait until I can go out into the back yard and pick me some fresh ingredients for the night's supper.

Day 2

Gracie is a crazy sleeper, just like her Daddy. She rolls and kicks and rolls and kicks and rests her feet on top of the Ocean Wonders thingy and wedges her head into the corner of the crib. And is perfectly happy that way.

I used to stand next to her crib while she was falling asleep at night, putting her legs down from the bars, turning her so she was all nice and straight and safe in the middle of the crib. I would untwist her favorite blankie (the yellow one she's holding) and put it back on her, all nice and flat and perfectly covering her up. And she would immediately bunch the blanket up, twist herself around, and put her feet back up in the air. Going to sleep used to take a long, long, time.

Finally, I decided that I was the problem here, not her, and just started putting her in her crib, kissing her goodnight, and leaving the room. The child is now usually asleep in under ten minutes, always with the feet resting on top of the Ocean Wonders thingy. I usually re-position her after she goes to sleep, but I almost always find her this way again when I check her before I go to bed, and when I wake up in the morning.

This photo was taken this afternoon. I found her this way when she woke up from her nap -- like usual. :)

Day 1

Jody over at The Sparkling House has been doing this wonderful thing called 100 Pictures in 100 Days. Nearly every day she takes a picture of something her family has done, and posts it with a little explanation. Apparently, the only rule is that the picture has to have been taken that day.

Well, I'm enjoying it so much that I've decided that I'm going to shamelessly copy her idea. I never have time to write an actual post anymore, but this I think I could do. I also think you, my beloved readers, will probably like it better because instead of reading boring posts about the zit in my ear, you'll get to see cute pics of Gracie. Probably a lot of cute pics of Gracie, actually.

Plus, I've just figured out how to get our Hard Disk Camcorder to take still photos, and this will give me lots of great practice. (I also may post videos instead of photos some days. I hope that doesn't break the rules.)

So, for my very first day, I give you…a cute pic of Gracie AND a kitty!



Gracie and I went down to my parents farm in Vulcan on Saturday for a Father's Day dinner for my Dad. Gracie had a great time playing with her cousins, and I had a great time visiting with Dad and Mom, my sisters and their husbands. It was quite a house full. We stayed overnight, and this morning before we left Gracie and Olivia were outside playing with some new kittens. This picture was taken in the back yard playhouse. I just love the little kitty looking out the window beside Gracie.

There’s No Face For Peeing

Hubby: I can’t believe you’re going to have the kid potty trained before she can talk.

Me: Oh, we’re a looooong way from being fully trained. Mostly, I just feed her her bottle, wait 20 or 30 minutes, then sit her on the potty and read stories to her until she pees. Anything she does in between I don’t catch. Although, she’s really good at pooping. She makes this face when she’s pooping, so when I see it I just say: “Gracie, are you pooping? Let’s go poop on the potty!” and she gets all excited and runs to the bathroom and we poop on the potty.

Peeing is harder though. It’s hard to tell when she’s peeing. There’s no face for peeing.

Hubby, (now laughing): There’s no face for peeing… There’s the title for your next blog post!

Would you believe my dog ate my blog post?

So, it's official. I am officially the worst blogger ever.

Has it really been more than 2 weeks since I wrote "I'll tell you tomorrow"?
Time is just flying by waaaaayyyyy too fast.

So for those of you who didn't email me or find out on Facebook, the big present was: a trip to New York City to see hubby's beloved Yankees play in Yankee Stadium. And yes, it went over very, very well.

Hubby, one of his very best buddies, and his father all hopped on a plane for a whirlwind weekend trip to the Big Apple, and by all accounts, a good time was had by all.

I'm sorry that it took me so long to post. I really love writing this blog, but between running after Gracie and now looking after my own home-based business, I usually fall into bed exhausted at the end of the day. Generally, there is a really great blog post floating around in my head as I fall asleep (and while I'm having a shower, and while I make dinner); but time to write it? Very hard to find these days. Very hard to find.

I think I finally got him something he will actually like…

Okay, so I don't look anything like Jessica Simpson when I use MY Swiffer. But I think I may just be up for Housewife of the Year when I give hubby his birthday present tomorrow. It's good. Really, really, really good. So good that I think it will make up for the disastrous Christmas of 2007 – he gave me an iPod Touch and I gave him a mini fridge shaped like a Coke can.

Oh yes I did.

I felt so badly about it that I set out to do better for his birthday. And since it's his 30th birthday, I wanted to give him something really big, and really special. So tomorrow (Thursday) is the big unveiling, and I'm so excited I can hardly contain myself.

And yes, I can hear you yelling "what is it?" into your computer screen, but I can't tell you because I want it to be a huge surprise, and hubby reads this blog from time to time. I'll tell you tomorrow.

He's gonna love it.

mmmmm…spinach dip

Ritz Whole Grain Crackers
+ Tostitos Spinach Dip
___________________________
= Denice not caring if she ever loses that last 10 pounds,
if it means she has to give up this scrumptious snack.

Seriously people! Life is too short to deprive yourself of this yumminess, just for the sake of looking a little better in a bathing suit.

That's what I'm telling myself, anyway, as I hoover down the entire jar.

Probably TMI…

Well friends, today is the day that I reveal to you what a sick, twisted, and self-centred individual I really am. Because out of all the pressing world matters that I could be writing about, today, I'm going to write about my zit. That's right, my zit.

I currently have the HUGEST zit I've ever had in my entire life – and that includes the really big one I had on my chin when I was about 15, and while attending some sort of school dance, a guy I was dancing with asked: "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but what's wrong with your chin?"

So what? You must be wondering. Why on God's Green Earth are you making us read about your stupid zit?

BECAUSE IT'S IN MY EAR!
AND IT'S REALLY BIG!
AND IT REALLY HURTS!

It's one of those ones that start about two miles beneath your skin and it now encompasses the entire inside part of my outer ear, and all I want to do is pop it. It's all I can think about. The pressure and the dull ache from the inside of my ear is driving me crazy, and I've spent every spare moment today looking in the mirror, trying to figure out how I can get at it.

Because here's my gross confession: I love to pop those giant disgusting zits. I don't know what it is, but there's something really satisfying to me in popping a zit. I think it's because I hate the thought that there's a deposit of disgusting pus just underneath my skin, and when I see it ooze out in one long squiggle, I know it's gone and I can feel better again. Or something like that. I don't really know.

But I can't get this one. It's in a spot where I physically can't get at it. And it hurts when I lay on it, it hurts when I touch it; it just generally hurts.

I suppose I should just wait for it to go away on it's own, but control freaks like me just aren't zen enough to let things just go away. We have to be pro-active! We have to take action to MAKE it go away!

I'm going back to the mirror.

Question of the Day

Is it wrong to purposely sit and cuddle on the couch with your nauseous child, secretly hoping that said couch might just get vomited on, thereby wrecking the wretchedly ugly old thing and speeding up the process of talking your husband into buying a new one?

Yes?

Then I didn't do that today. Nope. Nosiree. And I definitely didn't let her lay there for a half hour and watch the Backyardigans either.

She didn't puke on it anyway.

Just what time is it?

This daylight savings time has really wrecked my time clock. It's 1:24 a.m. and I'm still awake. I put Gracie to bed at 11:30 p.m. because she had a miraculous 3 hour afternoon nap, then I cleaned the kitchen, made oatmeal muffins, cleaned the kitchen again, did some laundry, tidied up the living room, ate some muffins, folded some laundry, ate some muffins, read some blogs…and now here I am. Everybody went to bed hours ago and my body still thinks it should be awake.

How 'bout you? Did daylight savings time screw with your inner clock?

Bring a cup of coffee. I wrote a novel today…

One year ago today, I woke up to my alarm clock ringing at 5 a.m. I remember thinking that it was pretty rude to make a woman wake up at 5 a.m. in order to get to the hospital by 7 a.m. for a scheduled induction. Shouldn't you let the woman have one last morning of sleep if you are purposely going to send her into labour today? That was my thought as I drug my tired butt out of bed and got into the shower.

But once the water started pouring over me and I started to wake up a bit, the butterflies started in my stomach and the nervousness kicked in. Just how much was this going to hurt? I really, really wanted to avoid the epidural, but how do you know how you will feel in the moment while you're gripped with pain?

An hour later we were in the car, bags packed, headed to the hospital in Calgary. We arrived, parked, then wandered and wandered until we finally found the right room for the induction. I was the only woman scheduled that morning, so hubby and I had the room all to ourselves. I went to the bathroom, put on my gown, went back the room, heard they were going to strap me to the monitor and make me stay still for an hour -- so I went to the bathroom again.



She applied the gel to my cervix and I stayed put for an hour. "Come back at 2 p.m., whether you've started contractions or not," the nurse told us. If you haven't started yet, we'll give you more. Often, we have to do this a couple times for it to work."

I started having contractions in the car before we even made it out of the city. By the time we reached Airdrie, I could hardly sit in my seat. Hubby decided we should stop at Blockbuster and rent a movie so there would be something for me to take my mind off the pain until we went back to the hospital. I thought it was a good idea, but wasn't sure I'd be able to walk through the store. Turned out it wasn't open yet so we just went home…

I love the TV show Friends, and we own all 10 seasons on DVD, so hubby put one of the seasons in for me. I have no idea which one, because for the first time in my life, I couldn't care less. All I could do is kneel on the floor and put my head on the couch, because that was the only comfortable position I could find. Hubby went to McDonalds to get some lunch for me, but I just couldn't eat it.

Finally, at 12:30 p.m., Nate decided he better put me in the car before I started refusing to go. I thought we should wait a bit longer, 'cause I didn't want to drive all the way there and then find out it was too early and have to go back home again. Turns out hubby made a good decision. By the time we got the hospital again, the contractions were close enough together that I could only go about 10 steps before I had to stop. When we reached the labour and delivery ward, all I could do was drape myself over the front desk.

"I'm guessing you're in labour!" the sing-songy nurse trilled. I wanted to say something really nasty, but all I could get out was a very breathy "YES!" She helped me to a bed in a small dark room, gave me a gown to change into and pulled the curtains around me. As soon as I had changed into the gown and managed to get myself on the bed, my water broke. The contractions suddenly intensified about 10 times, and I found myself hardly able to breath through them.

I was trying to find new coping mechanisms for this new development, and I must not have been doing a very good job, because from the other side of the curtain, I could hear a nurse say to another woman: "I'm sorry honey, these are just Braxton-Hicks contractions. When you're really in labour, you'll sound like her!"

Soon after that, my nurse came back to check me and decided it was time to put me in a delivery room -- they were really slow that day so there were a bunch just sitting empty. Might as well put me in there where there was lots more room and Nathan could be a bit more comfy too.

And I must confess, after that, the events are a bit of a blur. I remember refusing the epidural and deciding to try the laughing gas, since that was the only pain relief option that wouldn't do any damage to Gracie. I don't think it worked all that well, but I did notice when I had sucked the whole tank dry. Mostly, it helped me with my breathing because I had to really concentrate and breathe correctly through the contractions -- if I started to hyperventilate a bit through a really bad one, the nurses would have a fit and come and make me slow my breathing down. Then I remember saying: "Maybe I will try a little morphine now…" about 12 times, and nobody making any move to get me some. Oh well.

After what hadn't seemed like a very long time to me, I started to feel that overwhelming need to push. A doctor checked me out and said that it was okay to start, so I did -- and Oh My God did that ever feel good! I have never felt such relief in my whole life.

And then a different doctor came to check and said I was only 9.5 centimetres dilated and that I would have to wait and stop pushing. I could have cried. I think I might have…I'll have to ask Nate. The next hour of trying not to push through each contraction when every single muscle in my body was trying to push that baby out was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I will never forget those muscles gripping my body, pushing, tightening, hardening -- and being told to try to relax them and do nothing. Like I had some kind of control over it or something.

Finally, FINALLY I was allowed to push again, and the relief was blissful. I remember that the pushing part was extremely hard physical work, but I don't really remember it being painful, to be honest. It was just such a relief to get to work with my body instead of trying to work against it, that it felt like heaven. I pushed for nearly an hour before I finally got Gracie's giant head out. Once her head was out, I remember thinking "Okay! I'm almost done! After the head, the shoulders are just a couple pushes and I'm done…right?"

Wrong. Oh so very wrong.

Gracie had her arms crossed in front of her, with her two little hands touching each shoulder. I pushed and I pushed and I pushed and I pushed and nothing was happening. Nobody would tell me what was going on -- just to push a little harder. Then suddenly, with the next contraction, I felt an absolute searing pain. I remember screaming that this hurt SO MUCH and the doctors saying I just had to keep pushing. I couldn't see what they were doing, but afterwards my Mom told me that the doctor had had to reach a hand in and first grab one of Gracie's arms and pull it out, then pull out her other arm with the next contraction because her face was starting to turn blue.

A few more pushes and she was out. They grabbed her and ran, and took her to a corner of the room where I think three different pediatricians were waiting to look at her. Which totally freaked me out -- and once again, nobody would tell me anything. "She's just fine, they're just checking her," is all the doctor still with me would say. Gracie wasn't making any noise, and Nate and I were getting really scared -- and then she finally started to cry. (Five days later, we would find out that the doctor had broken her collarbone while yanking her out of there, but that's another story…)



They let Nate and my Mom go over there and take pictures and hold her, but I was still in the bed. The doctor was stitching me up -- and stitching and stitching and stitching -- and everybody else had seen and held this beautiful girl but me. I WAS STARTING TO GET ANGRY. (As a side note - the doctor who was stitching me up didn't know I hadn't had an epidural or any painkillers of any kind, and just started stitching me up. And when I yelled, she looked up and said: "That hurt?")

Then eventually, when they were done stitching me up, I got to hold my sweet Gracie, and it was love at first sight.



Grace Amelia Elizabeth Anderson was born at 6:57 p.m., February 5, 2007. She was 8 lbs, 10.75 oz.

Goodbye Santana and Kaydance

I can't stop thinking about them, those two little girls from the Yellow Quill Reserve in Saskatchewan. They died on Tuesday night, outside in the bitter, bitter cold, wearing nothing but diapers and t-shirts, trying to follow their father.

One-year-old Santana and three-year-old Kaydance were following their drunk father to a neighbours house. They didn't have jackets. They didn't have mittens. They didn't even have pants or socks or shoes. They were outside, the wind chill dipping the temperature down to -50 C, trying to follow daddy.

And I can't stop crying. Because all I can think about are these two little girls, wandering around outside in the cold, first whimpering, then crying, then screaming, asking daddy to come and help them. And then I can see daddy getting further and further away, not turning around, not paying any attention to his babies, and the girls getting colder and colder. It would take only two or three minutes in those temperatures before those girls wouldn't be able to walk anymore. So they probably sat down in the snow, not able to move, not able to talk, not able to do anything but watch daddy walk away. They were probably terrified.

They died terrified, in horrific pain, all alone, in the bitter cold and the dark of night.

And all I can do is cry.

http://ca.news.yahoo.com/s/capress/080130/national/wea_girls_frozen

Proper Pronunciation

Gracie's been starting to talk a lot more lately. Lots of times, she's just repeating what I'm saying and she never says it again. But sometimes it sticks, and she says it often. And sometimes, it's not really a whole word, but the first syllable or two.

For instance, when she is hungry and wants her bottle, she'll give me the sign language I taught her for milk and say: BOT! She's said that so much lately that her father and I both have started calling it BOT! too. But you can't fool her. She knows the word is bottle…

Me, yesterday afternoon: "Are you hungry? Would you like a BOT?"

Gracie, looking me right in the face, very seriously: "BOT-L mum! BOT-L!"

Thoughts for the Day…

1. Putting snow boots on a toddler is not for the faint of heart. It requires relentless perseverance, and should be attempted about 20 minutes before you need to leave the house. Trust me.

2. If you call Shaw Cable at 10:30 p.m. for assistance with uploading the temporary website you only spent five minutes creating because you have no idea what you are doing, the guy on the other end will actually be very nice. And you don't have to wait on hold for two hours before talking to real people either; the phone rang three times and then I actually got to speak to a real person! I'm going to start calling help lines at 10:30 p.m. from now on…

3. Working from home is GREAT! I spend my days with sweet Gracie, and my evenings in front of my Mac designing pretty ads and fancy-schmancy new logos. It's hard, but I think I made the right decision -- going back to work at the newspaper wouldn't have worked for me.

4. The Gracie Giggle is the world's sweetest sound. And the older she gets, the more I get to hear it.

Maybe I should stop checking my Sitemeter…

To all those who are here because you Googled "Pillsbury Gingerbread Cookie Dough", I'm very sorry. The only info you will get is my crazy ramblings about how much I love it.

I've written about lots of other things here at denice-isms but my traffic has gone up three-fold since I wrote those two posts, mostly because when you Google Pillsbury Gingerbread Cookie Dough, I'm like the third entry that comes up.

I'm trying hard not to think about what that means: like perhaps I should be worried that out of all the things I've done in my life, my love of Pillsbury Gingerbread Cookies is what I am now most known for.

But instead, I am just going to be flattered that I am known for anything at all, and invite all of you who arrived here by mistake to stay and read awhile. :)

Is there a Vogue for workout wear?

Clearly, I am not gym chic.

I went to the gym tonight, like all the other New Year's Resolutioners in Airdrie, to use the treadmill. It was 9 p.m. and the place was packed to the rafters. And every single one of them was dressed in a fancy-schmancy new workout outfit. Every single one of them! Apparently, when you make a New Year's Resolution to get in shape, you also must purchase fancy new workout clothes to make it a done deal.

I did not do this. I put on my favorite comfy yoga pants and a slightly baggy t-shirt, so as not to show my, um, less than perfect physique, and headed off the to gym. I knew I didn't exactly look great, but I figured there would be a couple more people like me there.

Nope. Not one. Just rows and rows of brand new lycra and co-ordinating water bottles. Oh well. Perhaps in a few weeks all those new outfits will be staying home and me and my baggy sweats will fit in just fine.

Best Christmas Ever!

I have the bestest hubby in the whole country. No, the whole world. No, the whole universe.
Because my sweet, wonderful hubby got me one of these wonderful things for Christmas!



It's an iPod Touch, and I can't stop using it. I find it to be especially helpful when Gracie is so tired that she nearly falls asleep while eating her supper, but when put in her bed just cries and cries and cries until she finally falls asleep. Drowns out that crying real nice, and helps to keep Mommy sane!

Tomorrow, we'll see how much Gracie likes riding in Mommy's jogging stroller while Mommy ignores her because she's listening to her iPod!

Hope everybody had a wonderful Christmas!

One small step for Gracie…

Gracie walked! We have a walking girl! She left the safety of the coffee table and walked four steps over to get me, four times in a row!

Actually, "walked" isn't exactly the right word. It was more like running and then diving when she got near me. But she was doing it unassisted, and so I remain steadfast in my excitement over this new development.

Do I have a picture to post? Um, no. But I will, just as soon as I can get her to do it while someone else is in the room. What a wonderful, wonderful Christmas.

Merry Christmas everybody! Hope you have a wonderful day too.

I can do it MYSELF!

I've been up to my eyeballs these past couple of weeks. Up to my eyeballs in design work, Christmas shopping, Christmas wrapping and laundry. Oh, the never-ending laundry.

But I had to take a couple minutes to tell you about yesterday, which I am now calling "Gracie's Super-Duper I Can Do It MYSELF Day!!!"

Usually, Gracie is quite happy to let Mommy do everything for her. Insistent, in fact. But yesterday, she decided that lots of things that Mommy does were things she could do all by herself thank you very much, and she just took over.

When we had our morning bottle, she held it all by herself. When it was breakfast time she wanted to eat all by herself, so I just put all the stuff I was going to feed her on her little highchair tray and let her have at it.

Later, we were doing some walking around (still assisted by me, but we're down to holding onto just one of my hands!) and she decided she needed a soother. So she walked me over to the little box on the coffee table where I keep them, grabbed the box, turned it over so all the soothers fell out, grabbed one and stuck it right in her mouth à la Maggie Simpson, then kept on motoring…

Then, when it was bathtime, she grabbed the wash cloth I was using to wash her and rubbed it up and down her tummy and washed herself! And after the bath, when I was brushing her hair, she grabbed the brush and started brushing her very own hair. It was so adorable I thought I might cry.

So here she is, 10 months old and already wanting to do things herself. I can't decide if this is a very, very good thing, or a very, very bad thing…

P.S. I'm not going to tell you how much she's been sleeping at night lately, because:
a. Every time I write about how well she's sleeping I jinx it, and
b. When you guys find out, you'll all come to my house and kill me in a fit of jealousy.
Let's just say I'm getting lots of work done at night and I still get to sleep in a bit in the morning. But I'm pretty sure this wonderful sleeping schedule will go all to hell when we start our Christmas traveling on Friday, so I'm enjoying it while I can. Maybe I'll go to Blockbuster tonight and rent The Simpsons Movie and hubby and I will have one quiet night together before Christmas…

If I don't make it back here to cyberspace before then, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY!!!!!!

No more gingerbread cookies for me

So, I was starting to feel pretty good about myself, body image-wise. (Which is totally new for me, but that's an entirely different post).

Anyway, I was feeling pretty good about myself, because after months of eating right and exercising, I'm now just 5 pounds away from reaching my pre-pregnancy weight. Which admittedly isn't saying much, since I needed to lose 10 pounds when I got pregnant, but losing 20 pounds is losing 20 pounds, whether you still have 15 more to go or not. I can fit back into a lot of my old clothes again, and I was actually starting to not hate the sight of myself in my mirror.

Life was good. I was happy.

And then my next door neighbour dropped by for coffee.
AND ASKED ME IF I WAS EXPECTING AGAIN!

Now to be fair, I was planning to exercise during Gracie's nap so I had just put on a fairly form-fitting yoga outfit which does a very good job of accentuating my huge spare tire. And she back-pedalled really quickly when my reply was "Nope. Just still fat." by saying that it was just that I was Looking So Good Lately that the round tummy looked out of place. Hurrumpf.

Guess I gotta lay off the Gingerbread Cookies.
Merry Christmas. Bah Humbug.