Bicycling with Baby

CC dons her mother's bike helmet

We saw them on the bike paths, and on streets throughout the city. Happy-looking families cycling with their tots in tow in bicycle trailers. And we thought we would certainly purchase one if we ever had children. My husband and I have actually been talking on and off for almost a year about purchasing a bicycle trailer. We delayed the purchase until just last week. We had done the research, visited a few sporting goods stores, and knew exactly which product we wanted. We live adjacent to a bike path, and knew it would be put to good use.

In hindsight, there were two factors delaying the purchase. Firstly, the product we wanted was a costly 1000$ before taxes. And secondly, while we enjoy cycling, we were unsure about the Brat. Would our stroller-hating, active baby enjoy being pulled behind us, and content herself with passively looking out around her? What finally instigated the purchase was a combination of nice weather, and a sale at a nearby store for the very product we wanted.

We purchased the product last Sunday, along with a jogging kit and a bicycle attachment. It took a little longer to put together than we had anticipated, but we were able to go out for a quick cycle on the day of purchase. We attached the trailer to my husband's mountain bike, and I rode behind in my speedy road bike. As it was late and close to the Brat's bed time, we decided to only go out for 20 minutes. But this somehow turned into 40. The baby seemed content on the way out. She actually squealed in delight. However on the way back, she seemed less than impressed. Perhaps the setting sun and her fatigue played a role...or at least that's what I keep telling myself to justify the purchase. We will give it another whirl this week-end in the hopes that the Brat will become one of those content tots in tow while their parents happily cycle the city paths.

Cleaning House

CC taking a picture of me taking a picture of her

I would have never imagined that I would one day be hiring a housekeeper. Primarily because I enjoy cleaning. I do not think that I have obsessive-compulsive tendencies, I simply enjoy a clean, tidy abode. Ever since I was a pre-teen, I would clean and organize our fridge and cupboards, without ever being asked. My room was always spotless, and I even attempted to clean the grout between the kitchen tiles on a few occasions.

This sense of cleanliness was translated when I moved out. Our current home, a condo my husband and I purchased a few years ago, is, or rather was always spotless. Then along came the Brat. On the surface, the house seems tidy, however, I no longer find time for thorough cleaning. I don't remember the last time I emptied out the fridge and cupboards, or re-organized my closet. As the Brat gets older, the problem seems to have amplified itself. She has been feeding herself since she was 8-months old, as evidence by stains on her highchair, as well as the floor, walls and windows opposite her chair. When she is not eating, she runs around the house creating havoc everywhere she goes. She throws her toys, rids the bookcase of all the books she can reach, and enjoys writing on the floors and walls with her crayons.

My husband and I have been talking about hiring a housekeeper for several months. But how to go about this task? How often would we need him or her? Who could we trust? Would we have to pay for transport? Could we also ask them to cook a meal? There were so many unanswered questions, that I never took the next step of actually contacting someone.

Then very recently, a friend of mine mentioned that she wanted to cut down her housekeeper/nanny to 3 days instead of 5, but was worried that they might lose the housekeeper as she optimally wanted full time work. I instantly offered to take her once a week, and my friend easily found someone to take her on for another day per week. I had met this housekeeper during a play-date, and was duly impressed. When are you planning on cutting down?, I asked my friend last week. Next week, was the welcome reply.

I was so excited, and surprisingly nervous that I slept poorly the eve of her first visit to our home. Would she consider our home too dirty to clean? Would she refuse to clean the toilet? Would she quit the same day she started?

As it happens, my worries were unfounded. She arrived a few minutes early this Tuesday morning, and stayed for over 8 hours. I had left mid-day for work, leaving my baby in the care of my sister. When I got home, I was shocked. Never had our home been so clean. The chrome faucets shone like I never thought they could. We could see our image in the once-stained window facing the baby's highchair. One could eat off the floor in the bathroom. Why had I waited so long to hire a housekeeper? My husband mentioned that the housekeeper, upon leaving, said that there was so much to do, that she couldn't finish in one day, and that she would have to continue the following week.

I had a good laugh. So our home was very unclean after all...I had never spent more than three or four hours in a row cleaning our home, and never imagined that eight hours would not suffice. I wondered if she would ever have some extra time to cook a dish that would last a few days. Would our home ever be clean enough for her to spare an hour or so? Surely there are some chores that don't need to be repeated on a weekly basis. Or would I have to take her on an extra day, or perhaps hire a cook?

Heat Wave

CC cools down in the sink

I read an article this morning warning Montrealers about a heatwave (article). Health officials from the city were asking residents to exercise caution in the sun. With temperatures nearing 30C all week, this is apparently one of the hottest Montreal has seen this summer.

Last week we had similar weather. It has actually been a few weeks that the baby and I have been venturing outdoors only early in the morning or after dinner. It seems like only yesterday I was blogging about our lousy winters, and the need to find indoor playgrounds. Same predicament, opposite weather!

The nice weather up until a few weeks ago was much appreciated by both of us. We headed outdoors after breakfast, before lunch, after lunch, and after dinner. It is no coincidence that my daughter was cold-free for more than 2 months. Unfortunately cold #8 has reared its ugly head; and the three of us have had little sleep for two nights and counting.

Perhaps once the cold subsides, the weather will be more moderate, and we will once again go a few months without any viruses, and plenty of outdoor play. And then winter will be waiting just around the corner...

Why my baby tried to step on a dog

CC dons her mother's cycling glasses

I don't remember exactly when I first noticed the baby mimicking our actions. It has certainly been at least a six months. At one point, I remember her picking up a cloth and wiping the floor. As I smiled, I made a mental note to myself to clean house less in front of her; but there is only so much I can do once she is in bed, and before I find myself dozing off.

A few days ago, she did something that shocked me, until I quickly realized who she was imitating. We were in our courtyard, talking with one of our neighbours. Our neighbour was there with her family, including a three year-old girl and a very small Yorkshire Terrier. As soon as the baby set eyes on the miniature dog, she gave chase. Then as she approached, she lifted one of her legs. "Please don't step on the dog" said our neighbour with a chuckle. She was intrigued at the site of a baby trying to step on her little dog.

I realized almost instantly what my daughter was doing. One would need a little background information on my mother to understand this odd behaviour on the part of my daughter. Although my mother has lived the majority of her life in Canada, she spent her formative years in the Middle East. She grew up believing, like many of her friends and neighbours that all animals, including dogs and cats belonged outdoors. To her credit, she did eventually grow found of Shasta, the lovely dog that we grew up with. She initially insisted that he stay outdoors. However, my sisters and I insisted more adamently that he be let into the house. He spent only one night outside, and the rest of his nights were spent cuddled with one of my sisters or myself. Although my mother grew attached to our dog, I don't ever remember her patting him.

Then one day, while in medical school, I brought home a white-furred blue-eyed kitten. At the time, Shasta had passed on, and I was living with my younger sister in an apartment not far from downtown Montreal. It became very clear within a few days that our kitten was not the indoor type. We would often bring him along when visiting my parents, and would let him roam around in their backyard. One day, we simply left him at their house. He seemed much happier, and the task of letting him out and feeding him did not seem too much of a burden to impose on my parents. The cat quickly grew attached to my mother, and he would follow her around everywhere, even to the local grocery store. While she also grew found of him, she kept her distance. It would be years before she started to pat him. Not wanting to touch him with her bare hands, she would use her socked foot.

The baby picked up on my mother's patting technique on a recent visit, and as evidenced by her behaviour in the courtyard, generalized it to dogs. I have been trying very hard to undo this behaviour, by gently patting (with my hands) every dog and cat that we come across. My efforts were rewarded, as we met a cat today in the park, and there was not a raised foot in sight!

Now if only she would imitate other behaviors; such as changing her own diaper. Or better yet, we could fall asleep in front of her, and she would instantly do the same!

Happy Canada Day!

CC waves her first flag!

Growing up in Montreal, I have very fond memories of Canada Day. It was often a family affair. Whether we went to the Old-Port to witness countless dance and musical performances and partake of the giant cake, or stayed in the West-Island for the smaller festivities, great fun was had by one and all! And as my sisters and I grew older, we were also allowed to participate in the nocturnal festivities including the ever-brilliant fireworks.

This all came to an end once medical school begun. July 1st was no longer a holiday, but rather marked the beginning of the school year, and later on of a new rotation. I don't remember the last time I held a miniature Canadian flag that was handed out, or enjoyed the sights and sounds of a parade.

We had the opportunity to attend last year, but the fatigue associated with parenting a 4-month old baby and erratic sleeper took their toll, and we opted to stay in and catch up on our sleep. But this year, I decided that we would celebrate the event, Canada's 144th birthday, and introduce our baby to an all-important national festivity. I bought washable tattoos for the occasion, and even picked up a 3-piece red and white baby suit. My husband's father was visiting from Cambridge, Ontario, so it truly was a family affair.

We headed towards the Old-Port a little after 11AM on what proved to be a bright Friday morning. We picked up a few miniature Canadian flags, which the baby enjoyed waving around (and chewing on!).

We next headed over to the inflatable play areas. We patiently waited in line for a few minutes, and then realizing that she was much too young to enter on her own, we bypassed the line, and let her play with the giant inflatable toys from the outside. As it was her first experience with this type of toy, she didn't know any better, and seemed to enjoy herself as much as the children that had entered the play area.

We headed home a little after 13h, and within a few minutes the baby was sound asleep. Now if only I could learn to fall asleep that easily!