She is NOT a boy!

CC enjoys a swim with her papa

I recently read an interesting article (http://www.parentcentral.ca/parent/babiespregnancy/babies/article/995112--parents-keep-child-s-gender-secret) about a Toronto couple who had decided to raise their third child genderless.  They have kept the gender of their now 4-month old baby a secret from everyone (except the baby's older brothers and the midwives that delivered the baby) in an attempt to limit "the constraints of gender stereotypes". After publication of the article, the parents found themselves in a firestorm;  they were criticized by parents and experts alike.

My first thought was that they must be very hands-on parents; they would be handling all of the diaper changes themselves!  My second thought was that regardless of what they were told, people would have their own ideas about the baby's gender.  Case in point, our 15-month old daughter.  At least once a day, I hear "oh, what a cute boy".  Initially,  I would correct them, and also point out the pink flowery clothing that she was donning.  I have come to the conclusion that their opinion is based on our baby's hair, or lack thereof.  She currently has what some refer to as a mullet; long in the back and short in the front.  I find it very interesting that although I dress her in girl's clothing, and mention her (very feminine) name, people still think she is a boy. Perhaps I should stop correcting them, and run a little experiment of my own.  Would those who thought she was a boy speak to her less in that "googoo-gaga" tone that so many tend to adopt when speaking to infants?  Because if that were the case, I would be all for it!

Return to Normalcy

CC walks on our terrace for the first time

I would have never imagined that the return to normality would have been blog-worthy.  But after two long weeks, I have a new appreciation for the normal state. The baby's cough has finally subsided, her sleep is less disturbed, she is not as cranky during the day, and her appetite has returned. My cold (which I caught from the Brat) is also improving.

Now if only those May showers would make way for some May sunshine!  I am running out of ways of entertaining the Brat indoors. We are somewhat limited as I have opted not to go to any germ-infested indoor playgrounds.  We do roam around the hallways of our condominium complex, throwing and then chasing the baby's ball (once the neighbours have left for work); but we are inside our condo for the most part.  She skims through and alternately chews on her books, boils a pot of water on her play kitchen, presses the buttons on the large variety of plastic musical toys, pushes her cart around, and builds and then knocks down towers. Her newest activity is climbing up on everything and anything.  She quickly mastered our couches, and has now moved on to the side tables, her play kitchen, her crib, and even the horizontal handles on the kitchen drawers.  Her repertoire lasts approximately one hour before boredom settles in.

Desperate, I googled indoor activities for rain days; a plethora of activities came up geared towards older children, but nothing for 1-year-olds.  I yearn to teach her to colour, but realize that at this stage she would be more interested in eating the crayons.  I look forward to teaching her to read, so that she can sit quietly for longer than one minute.  But mostly, I simply wish the sun would come out so that we can get ourselves some natural Vitamin D!

The Case of the Pacifier

CC playing hide-and-seek, pacifier in mouth

pacifier: /ˈpæs.ɪ.faɪ.ər/ something that makes people calm when they are angry or upset


Were you to ask me while I was pregnant if I was planning on using a pacifier for my baby, I would have answered NO!  In my mind a pacifier, or soother, as we like to call it, is for parents who are unable or unwilling to soothe their babies themselves.  Then we had the Brat.  Not only would she suck on me for milk every two hours, but she would also suck on me to fall asleep, when she first woke up, if she was upset, and for just about any other imaginable reason.  This amounted to approximately 20 out of 24 hours per day.  By three weeks old, I could no longer take it.  I left the baby with my husband, drove to the store, and picked up a few pacifiers.  I was well aware that for breast-feeding babies it was recommended to wait as long as possible to introduce a pacifier as to avoid nipple confusion (because sucking on a pacifier and sucking on a breast are different actions, it may interfere with successful breast-feeding).  I simply felt that my body could no longer meet the baby's sucking needs.


It was love at first contact.  I still remember her first sucking experience; she sucked on her pacifier for two hours non-stop, all the while making loud sucking sounds (think Maggie from the Simpsons).  Instantly, I had more free time.  Now that she was only sucking on me 12 hours per day, I found time to do a few mundane things such as eating and showering!


Until recently, we were in no rush to put an end to this privileged relationship with her pacifier. The way I saw it, we would one day soon explain to her that pacifiers were for babies, and as she was no longer a baby, we would be throwing them out. The plan was to wait until her language skills improved.  And then she picked up another virus.


She had not been sick in a while (6 weeks!), so I had almost forgotten about the sleepless nights, and the difficult days.  It did not take long for me to realize that with a pacifier in her mouth, and a congested nose, she would not be sleeping peacefully.  After 5 sleepless nights, with my husband and I alternately holding her upright, we decided that the pacifier would have to go.


We would start off by using it only in critical circumstances (i.e. sleeping), then one day very soon, we would throw them all out.  She would most certainly have a few more sleepless nights. This will translate to more sleep deprivation on our part as well.  On second thought, maybe we will wait just a little while longer...

April Showers

CC's acrobatics occasionally get her into trouble; see right forehead bump

While familiar with the proverb April showers bring May flowers, its origin was news to me.  I found out recently that originally a poem, it was written by one Thomas Tusser in 1557:

Sweet April showers
Do spring May flowers

The baby and I had an excellent April, despite some 137mm of rainfall in Montreal.  We ventured outside on most days, rarely requiring a rain-cover for the stroller.  But more importantly, the Brat did not get sick; not one sniffle for the entire month of April!  I attribute this to me ceasing all playgroups, in addition to eschewing contact with daycare attendees.  Instead, a few neighbouring friends and I started a home-based playgroup.  We meet once a week in our homes, alternating between the three of us.  The toys are always clean, and the runny noses scarce.

The night of April 23rd was also one for the books.  Our Brat, after 14 long months, finally decided to sleep through the night!  She fell asleep at 20h:45, and did not stir until 5:45 the next morning.  After nursing for ten minutes, she then slept for an additional hour.  Her mother, on the other hand, did not sleep through the night.  Her body had grown so accustomed to waking every three hours; and the night of April 23rd was no exception.  She checked on the baby many times that night, shocked that she was still sleeping.  How do I train myself to sleep through the night?  The countless articles and books I consulted on sleep for babies made no mention of that.  Although this sleeping through the night thing appears to have been an isolated incident, the Brat has made a lot of progress. Since the 23rd of April, she wakes on average once, and occasionally twice per night.

I certainly look forward to seeing what May has to offer, as I could not have asked for a better April!

As I prepare to publish this post, I hear the Brat stirring from the other room, only a few hours after putting her down for the night.  She woke up multiple times last night as well, and I expect much of the same for tonight. She woke up this bright May morning with a runny nose and a fever of 39.2C.  So much for May flowers!

The Incident in the Park

CC looking pensive at a local greenhouse

While I was pregnant with the Brat, descriptions of motherhood that were proffered by one and all sounded a lot like simple cliché.  "You won't remember your life before the children" was a common description.  One mother who knew she had made a wrong decision vis-a-vis her teenaged daughter told me "you will do anything for your babies, even when they grow up."  I think I scoffed at that one. Then just the other day, it happened to me. My life became one of the motherhood clichés I had heard.

The Brat and I were leisurely strolling through a park after a quick grocery run. She was in the stroller, looking out for squirrels and birds.  She spotted a squirrel, but it was a distance away.  I instantly remembered that I had picked up some nuts at the grocery store, and despite being aware of a prohibition of feeding animals in this particular park, I threw a few nuts approximately one meter in front of her stroller.  Three squirrels approached, and munched away on the nutritious offering, as my daughter squealed with delight. The rodents remained for about 15 minutes, and the baby was riveted for the duration.  We headed home shortly thereafter, and I found myself puzzled by my actions.  Why had I broken the law? While certainly unlikely to have been arrested or even fined had law-enforcement been present, had I really knowingly done something unlawful for the sheer entertainment of a one-year old?  What was next?

I thought of an article (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/15/nyregion/15suit.html?_r=1) I had recently read in the New York Times about a mother who had sued a preschool for inadequately preparing her young child for the test required by New York City's private school system.  And I decided that I would not become that "do anything for your child" cliché. And so since the incident in the park, I no longer carry any nuts, bread, or other food that I might be tempted to offer rodents and birds; thus in my mind, avoiding sliding down a metaphorical slope.