To the New Mom

I'm not going to pretend that I have it all figured out. I made it up as I went and I got a lot of things wrong along the way, but if I could go back to the beginning and tell myself some things that I didn't know 5 years ago, I definitely would. 
 

I would like to tell that new mother:

1. Don't be afraid of the pain meds. Oxycodon and the others are addictive and yes, opioids have ruined a lot of lives, but... I needed them. A c-section is major surgery and you recover a lot faster if you can walk normally that first week. My surgeon told me to take as many drugs as I needed to in order to be able to walk normally, and I wish I had listened sooner. I took them for a couple weeks. It was necessary. I have no regrets.
2. Take a laxative as soon as your catheter is removed. Seriously, girl, don't wait until they offer it, ask the nurse for one ASAP. You're going to need it.
3. Whenever something comes up, it's tempting to Google it to see what it might mean. Google isn't your best online resource. It's instagram. I didn't have instagram when I became a mother, but now it is the single best source of normalization and information on the internet. From something as simple as #newmom to more specific and complicated things like #chronicpain #introvertmom #postpartumhairloss #postpartumbody #perinatalmooddisorder or #goodmomshavescarythoughts there is a mother lode (no pun intended) of information on Instagram that new mothers can tap into. Instagram has better information on perinatal mood disorders than any other source I've tried. ANY OTHER SOURCE. That includes therapists, family doctors, midwives, OBGYNs, psychiatrists, and the entirety of Google. I'm not saying you should turn to Instagram instead of family, friends and doctors. Definitely not. But don't underestimate what it has to offer.
   
4. According to the good people at The Postpartum Stress Center  91% of new mothers experience something they call "scary thoughts"... which are stress based intrusive thoughts about bad things happening to the baby. It's your animal brain on high alert because you are in charge of a small, vulnerable creature and it's your biological imperative to protect those genes. It doesn't mean you're going crazy. It doesn't mean something bad is going to happen. It isn't a slippery slope. Get some sleep. You're totally normal.
5. Negative emotions are not the same thing as negativity. Negativity is a kind of pessimism... always looking on the bad side of things. Negative emotions are very different. When something bad happens and you feel bad about it... that's just called the truth. Motherhood is one of the most extreme (possibly the MOST extreme) experiences ever. There are soaring highs and rock bottom lows. It's important to recognise and name both of those sides of motherhood. You don't have to be positive and sunny about terrible things. You don't have to be ok. You don't have to be "strong" when you feel like you're breaking apart. Telling it like it is - that's what makes you strong. Holding it inside will make you brittle.
6. Feeding the baby is important. How you feed the baby isn’t. Breastfeeding versus bottle feeding is such a personal decision, so people really don't like to talk about it, but I so wish I had known that it doesn't have to be an either/or all-or-nothing scenario. I had midwives and they were really passionate about breastfeeding (and I was too... I thought it was the thing to do)... and they told me not to introduce a bottle or a soother, that it would cause nipple confusion. They told me not to use a pump. They told me a lot of things, that given my particular situation made no sense. The second time around, we fed the baby formula from a bottle during the night so I could sleep, and I breastfed during the day, for the first two weeks, and then I started pumping because babies are unreasonable little critters and I would often have one full breast before bed, and that's uncomfortable. So then he started having a breastmilk bottle during the night instead of formula and he had breastmilk exclusively for 6 months, because that's how it worked out for us. The thing about babies though: they like the comfort of breastfeeding during the night. They aren't usually so attached to bottle feeding. And by about a month old, the baby didn't need nourishment in the night and he had learned that if he woke up in the night there was no Mommy and no breastfeeding... and he stopped waking up. I wish I had known 5 years ago that pumping and someone else feeding a bottle during the night was an option. I was committed to breastfeeding 100%, but someone else feeding breastmilk during the night is still breastfeeding. I just didn't know it was an option.
7. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Do it at night, whenever possible. 2-4 weeks postpartum is usually the hardest time for a new mom. Don't be alone. Don't be pushing yourself to do anything. That applies for the 4th trimester in general, but around days 8-30 postpartum are often when you are the most susceptible to sleep deprivation and mood dysfunction. It is also when that precious newborn realizes he is no longer in a womb and starts to get cranky. You need to sleep. People will tell you to sleep when the baby sleeps, but girl, you are a grown-ass woman and you need to sleep for more than 45 minutes at a time. Give that baby to someone else and get yourself a solid 6 hours. Alone. Uninterrupted.
8. Marpac Dohm Classic. It's a natural white noise machine. It's the best white noise machine in the world. You need one for the baby. You need one for yourself. White noise machines for everyone! (Seriously. My house has 3 now).

Remember, you’re a warrior. You’re a mother. You’re a fighter. You’re a treasure. And you are so loved.

And... sweetheart, I was serious about that laxative. 

<3

To my 2 year old on his birthday

Dear James,

We have been through a lot together in the past 2 years and 9 months. You have grown from a tiny speck of cells into the most amazing little person, and on each of those 1010 days I have been happy to be your Mommy.

11 Days Old

 From your first breath to your first smile to your first roll to your first word, that first year was a wild ride. We lived in three different homes, in three different towns, and from Stratford to Richmond Hill to Port Elgin you didn't care one bit as long as I was there; you were home because you had your Mommy. We went hiking and swimming and boating and... you loved it all, but not as much as you loved splashing in the bathtub and eating applesauce by the gallon.

One Year Old

From your first steps to your first sled ride to your first bike ride to your first plane ride to your first full sentence, that second year was a wild ride. We lived in two different homes, in two different provinces, and from Ontario to Nova Scotia you knew it would be okay because I was there and I am your Mommy. We went hiking and swimming and boating and... you loved it even more, but not as much as you loved driving your trucks through the dirt and playing with your Great and Grandparents. You learned to run while chasing seagulls. You learned to build towers instead of just knocking them over. We gardened. We explored. We discovered the magical worlds hidden in the pages of books. You discovered that your favourite farm animal is a dragon. And baby, you can have any kind of farm you want to.

I love you and I believe in you. Happy Birthday to my future Dragon Farmer. May all your dreams come true.

And I Darken: A Book Review

I was sold by the Amazon blurb description of Kiersten White's  And I Darken when I read the first sentence, "This vividly rendered novel reads like HBO’s Game of Thrones . . . if it were set in the Ottoman Empire." I didn't need much more than that. I love books that read like movies. Stories that transport you. Where you see the action unfolding as you read, and feel the emotion as the characters experience it.

Since I didn't know any more than that when I started reading, I thought at first that I was reading a book about Vlad Dracula's daughter. And despite the vivid writing and compelling characters, I was mildly disappointed by what I thought was historical inaccuracy... because I was a generation off in my assumptions. Then I realized my mistake - the father of Vlad Dracula was in fact also named... Vlad Dracula. So then I thought I was reading a book about Vlad Dracula's sister.

But as I turned the pages and was nearing the end, I could not wrap my mind around how dramatically things would have to change in the final chapters for Lada's little brother, Radu, to become the legendary Vlad. It just wasn't working for me.

THEN I got there.

I wasn't reading a story about Dracula's daughter, or his sister - Ladislav (called Lada) is a female rendering of the legendary Vlad Dracula. And it's BRILLIANT!

Now, I experienced these revelations as plot twists when they aren't supposed to be. If you read the whole back cover apparently it is made clear that Lada is a young, female Vlad Dracula.

Lada and her little brother turn gender stereotypes on their heads. Lada is a keen strategist and fierce warrior, ruthless and calculating. Radu is a subtle eavesdropper, sly and charmingly manipulative. Each of the characters in the book are individuals, even minor characters, with relatable motives and fascinating agendas. This is a complex historically based political intrigue, while at the same time being highly accessible, as it is written for a young adult audience. In my mind, that is a winning combination for a great book - the depth and breadth of a rich story presented in the simplest language possible.

I was looking for an engaging and entertaining read and I can confidently say that And I Darken delivered, and while I am looking forward to the next book in the trilogy, And I Darken is also able to stand on it's own.

If you are ready for some Wallachian Romanian royalty, Vlad Dracula, Albanian hero Skanderberg, medieval battles, Ottoman court intrigue, and young conflicted love, And I Darken by Kiersten White is available at Amazon.ca

Plein Air Outdoor School

With our big move, comes our next big thing - the launch of our very own Forest Kindergarten! From the pictures of my life with James you may have noticed that we have been living our own private Outdoor School adventure up until this point. Outdoor exploration.. All day. Every day.

Rain or shine.

Now we are bringing the opportunity for that experience to the wider community... to their toddlers and preschoolers at least. The "doors" of Plein Air Outdoor School will open September 6th in Antigonish, Nova Scotia, and I am sure it will be a spectacular adventure.

Visit our website at http://www.pleinairoutdoorschool.com/ to see what we are up to!



.

Wagners on the Move: East Coast Bound!

I am off to be a grad school mommy. Next month we are moving our little three ring circus to Antigonish, Nova Scotia for me to begin an MA at St. Francis Xavier University.

I am beginning my Master's of Celtic Studies with a focus on Old Irish Mythology and Medieval Literature... for those of you who are wondering. I wanted to go back to school for marketable credentials that will help me get a good job... HA! Real reason: research for my books! Second real reason: I am about 75% ethnically Celtic and yet have very faint connections to that culture. I want to remedy that divide and reconnect with my family heritage.

So here we go... 2017km to the only MA in Celtic Studies program in the country.

Here's to new adventures!

20 Months Old

The little boy is quite a chatterbox these days. His pronunciation is not quite up to the same level as his vocabulary so sometimes he will be saying a word that cannot be identified, which is frustrating for everyone, especially him. When he is too tired, this dissolves in anguish and the game is over. But most of the time he plays this word association game and tries to come up with enough related words that I will be able to guess the original one he was trying to say!

It goes like this:

We are eating breakfast.

"insert gibberish," he looks at me expectantly.

"What was that, baby?"

"same gibberish," he looks hopeful.

"More smoothie?" I ask.

Frowny face, wild headshaking and a general demeanor of grave disappointment in Mommy's intellect.

"repeat the gibberish. Outside. Trees. Neighbour house." He adds.

I glance behind me at the window.

"Outside you see trees and the neighbour's house." I repeat obediently.


"ouddarindu. Outside."

I wait.

"Indu. Indo. Indow!"

"OH! Window! The other window!" I strike gold.

He nods an affirmative with his whole body.

"usttairs oddar indow. All done."

"Ah, you want to upstairs to look out the other window in Grandma and Grandpa's room at the neighbour's house."

He shakes his head.

"Big trucks."

So he wanted to go back to his own room upstairs to watch the street traffic, but he described the view out the other side of the house because it was what I would see though the closest window to where we were in the kitchen - more likely to help me guess the word "window." I was impressed.

We play at lot of word association charades. It is cumbersome communication, but I will take it over crying any day. And he is still learning new words daily and incorporating them into his descriptions.

We spend almost every morning at the beach and sometimes again following his afternoon nap. Other times will we go to the park or into the woods to play. He loves the forest by our house: he calls it "path is hiding" aka "the path that is hiding" because the forest is full of official and unofficial footpaths that you cannot see from a distance. Thus, they are hiding.

The weather is always good at the beach. Or anywhere outside for that matter. We only go inside for thunder storms and even then, he doesn't understand why I am ruining his fun. We have been going swimming on hot days. He was very unsure of the whole swimming thing at first and was sure that I had fallen down and couldn't get back up. Now he is happy to hold on to my back while I swim the length of the waterfront. Although, he is generally distressed in the first moment he gets wet, insisting that we go back and get him some "fresh clothes" because "James all wet."

One of his favourite times of day is late afternoon when most families' beach days are over - because then he can play search and destroy with all of the abandoned sand castles.

We have started our own version of morning cartoon watching. While I am making breakfast he likes to sit in the living room and watch the first few scenes of the movie Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron. For those of you who don't know - it's a movie about a horse, from the perspective of the horse. I also loved it when it came out.

James really only loves the first few scenes, which is fine with me, breakfast only takes a few scenes to prepare anyway. But his reason is pretty funny. He enjoys the lead up - an eagle flying around.

"eagle-bird! eagle-bird!"

Then he loves the first scene where Spirit is born.

"mommy horsie! baby horsie!"

He even mimics the baby horsie neighing on cue.

Baby horse learns to walk ("kaboom!"). Baby horse runs to music ("horsie tunes! mommy horsie. snow"). Baby horse meets some buffalo ("buff-low. water"). Baby horse grows up.

And the spell is broken.

The minute that baby horse turns into a big horse... show's over. Time for breakfast.

I guess he only identifies with horses his own age?

A Tale of Two Proms

Little Critter and I went to prom last week. Accidentally.

Not as hard as it sounds when you live in Port Elgin...

Critter and I were playing at the beach. It was late afternoon and most beachgoers had left for the day, so he was going along and systematically destroying every. single. sand castle.

The usual.

And then I saw the first evening gown.

In Port Elgin the tradition is for every prom-going grade 12 kid to meet at the Main Beach boardwalk to take pictures before heading off to the dance.

So Critter and I stayed to watch the show...

Now, there is a reason I found Port Elgin pre-prom activities so striking. It wasn't that there were a bunch of teenagers on the beach in evening gowns. Although, I might have stayed just to watch that too. There were some pretty stunning dresses.

But no, the reason I enjoyed the exhibition so much was that although the teenagers came in evening gowns, their immediate families came in semi-formal attire, for the pictures, no doubt, but it also honoured the spirit of the event. The friends and other relations did not dress up, but they were standing there in a throng of onlookers waiting for the arrival of the celebrity-for-a-day graduating class.

When I went to prom it kind of felt like a big deal because of the dress and the hype, but while some friends came to my house beforehand and we took pictures, it felt much the same as every other school dance.

Me and friends at our "pre-prom" gathering in 2007.

Where I graduated high school, in a "town" of 180,000 people, there was nothing like this town-wide tradition of community gathering: published in the newspaper and widely attended by people every year regardless of their knowing someone in grade 12 or not. Here it is a right of passage. A proud and public coming of age acknowledgement. There were little boys running around on the beach wearing dress shirts and bowties. Little girls playing on the playground beside the boardwalk watching the teenagers in evening gowns arriving and cheering for the ones they knew. It is an event those same children will grow up envying and knowing that their day will come.

I am sure the prom dress parading teenagers got into their party bus and vintage pick-up trucks, drove to the banquet hall and more or less had a good time. But whether they realize it or not, the dance was just a dance, the real ceremony and event of the day happened at the boardwalk. The parents snapping pictures. The children's envious cheering. The grandparents' teary smiles. The townspeople bearing witness. The tourists stopping to gawk. The whole community acknowledging their grand exit from high school with pomp and ceremony and sandy feet.

"Human beings will be happier - not when they cure cancer or get to Mars or eliminate racial prejudice or flush Lake Erie but when they find ways to inhabit primitive communities again. That's my utopia."

Kurt Vonnegut