Ch-ch-ch-change...

Even bigger changes since moving to Wordpress.....
My name has changed over there too! So if you have been check me out, please continue to at


atlanticmama.wordpress.com

I welcome your visits and your comments on my new site :)

xoxo a.m.

Moving...

I am in the process of switching from blogspot to wordpress.

Why?
It's a little niftier, more professional looking ('cause thats what I am going for, apparently) and a little less 'Google'-ish.

Mainly it is based on some really good blog advice a good friend of mine gave me, a friend who is, for lack of a better term 'The King of Technology and all things internet Design'.

So here is my new link ........ toodlepoop.wordpress.com

I would really love it if all 7 of my readers would follow me over there....

So no more posting here (I have been posting on both for the last week). I hope to see you on wordpress and of course am happy to hear what you all (y'all) think of my new site.
Which is in development, I will be tweaking.....

love to all
Jaime

I feel like I have been slightly neglectful of writing this week.

Now that I have a few moments to myself, my thoughts feel a little overwhelmed. So many things fighting to get out, I just know nothing is going to be coherent at all. But perhaps that is just all the time anyways.... My brain tends to run ahead of my mouth, and I assume that everyone is on the same wavelength as me and is following along.

My new interest is Bikram yoga is straightening my spine and filling my mind with healthy thoughts. My muscles ache, but I feel tall. And strong. And clean.

It's a West Coast sort of feeling. A nice granola-y, wheat grass drinking, portabello mushroom burger-eating, organic cotton-wearing, Patchouli smelling, soy bean, miso soup, vegan soap-using feeling.

I think part of it has to do with my cousin moving to Central Florida.

Funnily enough, who would have thought out of the 4 cousins the 2 of us would end up living in Florida when we were adults.

I think it's the most bizarre of coincidences. But then, since considering our family, I wonder why I am surprised. But I think it is a fantastic thing.

Cousin dear and I are at opposite sides of the cousin age group. I am the oldest and she is the youngest. Somehow though, we have a ridiculous amount in common. Of course it's family bond and all that, but more as well. And I am so happy that she moved from the East coast.

And so happy that she let me drag her to Bikram. where she sweated, cursed me and denounced our bloodline. I know she still loves me. And I hope she knows how much I love her and am glad that she is here and part of my life.

Love you Cuz. Not like this.... I just love you...

Mad skills

Yesterday morning I went to check the mail while walking Chewie and carrying V. M was not awake yet (sleeping off the 18 hour day he had finished a few hours before).

For some reason I really get my kicks out of checking the mailbox. I love getting letters, really of any sort. At our last apartment for some reason we only had one mail key (why we never got another one, I will never know), but I would literally fight M for it, wrestle it out of his fingers and dash down the 2 flights of stairs (we lived on the 3rd floor) in my joyous anticipation of checking out mailbox.

Now this was early in my days of living in Florida, and so I usually would have a delightful card/little package/something lovely in that box from Canada waiting for me. How terribly exciting it was to check the mail!

So my hands full with V and Chewie's leash, I unlock our mailbox and reach in... It's stuffed full! Mostly circulars, a few bills, the latest US magazine and a tubular package about 12 inches long.... Just seeing it peeking out of my mailbox got me all excited (tubular things do that to me), so I took it out (it took me about 3 minutes to write those 5 words... I erased 'pulled it out' and then giggled for the remaining 2:50 seconds) and saw that it was addressed to me. Well, it was sort of addressed to me.

Actually it was addressed to 'Jaime McPhooferpantsbum Melvin'. For real.

Oh, that husband of mine. He thinks he's so funny. I should have known that this was coming when I received that tutorial DVD on 'How to Iron' addressed to Jaime McPooter Melvin. I know how to iron, thank you very much.

So, home I went with V, leash, circulars, bills and the tube.

I unlocked the front door, deposited V in to his Jumparoo and went and got some scissors to open this silly package.

A set of four plastic George Killian's Irish Red beer tasting glasses and an official 'Premium Lager' key chain that conveniently doubles as a bottle opener. Plus instructions on how to taste beer properly (to get your own beer tasting kit, click link above and check it out).

Hil-are-E-ous.

Well, now I know how to iron properly and can taste beer like a real man can (or whatever.... or whoever for that matter)

And M still thinks he is the funniest person ever.... and warned me that there might be more things to follow in the mail soon..... geez..... I hope he is a little more creative with the names!

Bloody noses (and crocheting)

Sadly enough I am starting another craft project.

Not that I have actually finished the blanket I was working on or anything.... I am just having problems with it. So instead of starting over with it, I am putting it aside for the time being and starting completely over with brand new yarn (but the exact same pattern).

This is my M.O.

I feel guilty about giving up, so I don't..... I put it 'on hold' and move on to something else. I really do mean to come back to it (I love the colours in the last project).

Anyways, so I am trying a thinner yarn, a smaller crochet hook but am still using the same pattern which is called "Waves" and looks like it will be quite pretty when it's done.

I really will finish this one...... for real.

Anyways, so that was one of our errands today, running to Michael's and picking out some new yarn with V. My colour choice was partially decided by the ball of wool V grabbed and stuffed in his mouth.

Anyways, after all of this craftiness we swung by Gramma and Pop-pop's for a little visit.

V loves playing at their house, probably because it's so much bigger than our apartment, and more people pay attention to him.

He was playing away on the floor and somehow slipped and fell, banging his face on the hard tile floor.

Instant screams and sad little boy face. Tears streaming. Gramma reached him first, grabbed him and instantly soothed him (he loves his Gramma) with this lovely Italianism "Do you want a cookie??". It worked, he got a treat and everything was fine.... He is soooo his daddy's boy!

He was munching away on his little treat, when I noticed that it had turned pink... which was odd, since there was no reason it should have. And that's when I realized that it was blood.

He must have hit his nose when he fell, and with a closer look I realized that there was a smudged trickle of blood on his upper lip. Poor boo, his first accident.

M arrived soon after, I told him about the whole thing and his response was "Really??? Awesome!! His first accident!! Did you take a picture of the blood??"

Men.....

Love Affair

Still feeling the effects of Bikram on my poor body, I gave it a pass today and decided to go for a run instead.

I ran past the ducks, the hibiscus blossoms, the gator pond, the gang in blue tee-shirts on their BMX bikes, the golf course, turned around and ran past it all again.

As I pushed open the pedestrian gate of my apartment complex and hit the sidewalks of my community, I took a deep breath of the fresh spring air.

The scent of blossoms, fresh air and growing things clung to my skin like someone elses cologne. It was like I had just gotten back from a tryst with nature.

That's right...... I am having a love affair with Spring...

Bikram Post Script

Addendum...

Walking into the yoga studio yesterday, I glanced around the room and tried to decide where to put my mat and towel. Not too close to the mirror and not in the back corner so as to seem unsocial. I settled for the middle.

I rolled my mat out, draped my towel over it (sweat catcher), sat down and glanced around the room.

Some young girls were positioned close to the mirror, a middle-aged woman was next to me and there was a naked man laying face-down on his mat next to me. With a closer look, it was clear he wasn't totally naked. Just dressed in skin-tight cream coloured spandex short athletic shorts. With no shirt on.

I am sure you can understand my confusion.

Anyways, the class started, we started doing breathing exercises and began the first few moves. I was watching my poses in the mirror when my gaze swept sideways for a second.

Full-on sweaty package in plain sight reflected in mirror.

Every detail outlined.
Holy mother.
Not what I want to see in yoga class.

But he was so earnest.

And as the class progressed, we all got sweatier and sweatier and his spandex defined more and more.

The class went on, I forgot about it but remembered as soon as the class was over and my neighbour in his practically see-through spandex picked up his mat and headed out of the studio.

Note to self: cream-coloured spandex not a good choice for any exercise at all

Bikram

So on the way to visit my cousin at work on the weekend, I happened to drive past a yoga studio.

I have been looking for a nice place to do yoga at since forever. I actually really started looking while I was pregnant. I was set on prenatal yoga, something I was sure I would enjoy doing instead of running while I was expecting.

I Googled, I yellow-paged.... to no avail..... Of course there are yoga studios around town, but none near me. Most are in posh Winter Park, and there was no way I was driving there for yoga. Perhaps I live too close to Kissimmee? Yoga is not high on the list for people who live in Osceola county? Yoga is only for Canadians and hippies and there is not enough of either in this part of the USA?? Who knows.... I thought for sure there would be a nice little studio in Hunter's Creek, but no, there is not.

So no prenatal yoga happened, and I have been on the lookout since.

I was SO happy to drive by this place. I totally did a comical screech of the brakes, reversed, parked and hustled V in to check it out. We got the full tour. It was awesome.

So I decided I would actually check it out. I went this evening. Actually I just got back about an hour ago, and am tiiiiiiiirrrrrrrreeeeeedddd. But satisfied.

It's hot yoga, which I had never done before. I have taken plain old yoga before, but holy man was this awesome.

And hot.

Super hot. And Awesome. With a capital 'A'.

My muscles shook, sweat actually dripped off of me and puddled on my towel. I was soaked by the end of the class.... and so satisfied.

Satisfied like I ate a big bowl of icecream. I swear I could taste icecream in my mouth as I walked out of the studio.

And pleasantly surprised to find out that the class wasn't full of farting as well!

My wonderful cousin, when I called her this morning to invite her along with me, was interested in coming at first. Until she found out that it was hot yoga, and then she made some sort of comment like "I heard everyone farts during bikram yoga. No thanks. Have fun in your gassy class!" Awesome.

I heard no farting. It did get smelly though, but just the sweat I think?! Maybe everyone was 'releasing' some tension.

I am going again. I love it. Sweat is good. Heat is good. Sweat and heat while being all bendy, awesome.

Biohazard

My morning started off wonderfully....

Again the blessed event happened. V slept in until 7:30, and there was much praising of holy things in our household. 2 days in a row is really unbelievable, and I finally feel rested after the longest week ever (M has a cold, and I am sure everyone is familiar with the joys of taking care of a sick man)

(V is taking a nap {or pretending to, in any case} and I am watching Anne of Green Gables quietly in the living-room while M is out running errands.......so relaxing...)

I made wheat-free pancakes for Mr V, as he is allergic to wheat, and he loved them. I was so buoyed up by this success, that I even dared contemplate trying to feed him some avocado again at lunch.

My Mum rang, I picked V up out of his Jumparoo and off we went to the bedroom where our web-cam is set up for a Skype with 'Nanna'. As I was getting situated (while chatting with Mum), I noticed an unpleasant smell emanating from little man's pants. I peeked down the back of his pants, using my thumb to hold the diaper away from his body.

Aha!! I had found the location the the odor! Oh! And my thumb was now covered in poo! Awesome!

I quickly disconnected our Skype call (with my poo-free hand of course), and ran into the living-room to find M. I definitely needed assistance on this one.

It was a two person diaper clean-up, and then the biohazard was immediately taken out to the dumpster.

So back again to the bedroom to call Mum for a chat and of course to show off V, who was particularly flirty with her today. Very cute!

About 15 minutes into our conversation, V threw-up all over himself and me. The majority of it hit the crotch of my pj's and soaked through and was pretty much instantaneously ice cold. Nice.
I waddled out of the room (crotch growing colder by the minute) with puke covered child to fetch clean clothes for him and something to tidy this whole mess up with.

M was totally oblivious in the other room (I think he was totally zoned out on Plant Earth)

Mum is killing herself laughing on the computer.

My crotch is cold.

Mum: "Are you sure you still want to have another one?"

Me: "It's not something I am currently contemplating, given the events of the last 20 minutes"


On the plus side, I fed V avocados for lunch and not only did he like them this time, but he also didn't throw up on me! The day had taken a turn for the better.... finally...

Manners, bitch! (or how I have no patience)

"Excuse me"

"Hello!"

"Excuse me!!!"

"Hello! Excuse me!!"

"Hello! Hello!!!"

"Excuse me! Hello!! HELLO!!!"

"Hello!! Excuse me! HELLO!!"

Let me fill in the details a little........ V and I were out for our morning walk. Today we went to the park, which is about a mile or so away, and the route we took was along a golf course, so it was particularly pretty. Hibiscus bushes (trees?) and lovely little ponds filled with ducks. This morning it was gorgeous, with a slight cool breeze.


We had already been to the park, played on the swings, crawled around in the grass, went looking for turtles in the pond and were on our way back. I was pushing him in his stroller on the sidewalk. We had had the best time ever (probably because he slept in to 7:30 this morning, one of those blessed events that makes you praise higher beings)


I was not walking in the middle of the sidewalk. I know my walking etiquette from years on the Galloping Goose trail.
I stay on the side to allow for others to pass me, such a nice and polite Canadian I am!

This shouting I didn't even know was directed at me. I ignore anything that anyone shouts at me from any vehicle "Hola chica!!!" "Where you goin' pretty lady?!" etc etc. She might have been shouting for about 2 minutes straight. She just said the same to things over and over and over again. When I finally turned around she said them again.

"Excuse me! Hello!!!! COMING THROUGH!!!!!!"

Some fat white woman on an old fashioned bicycle was passing me.

My crappy reply "Ya, I heard you."

And then after she had passed me, "BITCH. Learn some manners."

I was super annoyed for about 5 more minutes. Clearly my walking etiquette was not at fault, her cycling skills left a lot to be desired. She had a whole half a sidewalk! What more did she want?! I am of the opinion that a baby plus stroller takes precedence over everything, so you better move out of my way. I am pushing our future President-slash-SuperBowl winner, don't put our country's future in jeopardy.

I have no patience for people like this. AND I certainly am not going to be nice to someone who has been screaming (slight exaggeration perhaps) at me for hours (again, slight exaggeration).

**********************************************************************************

Bad Movie of the Post

XXX-State of the Union

I find I watch a lot of FX-HD and they sure do have a quality selection of crappy movies. Mostly bad action (my weakness), and this is certainly one of the worst. Ice Cube is not a good actor, this is not a good plot and Samuel L. Jackson is awesome (I did see 'Snakes on a Plane' in the theatre and laughed my face off).

If I am home alone and I have a choice between life enriching tv programing and super crappy action movie, I will pick the action movie every time. To be honest, I am not even paying that much attention..... I just look up every now and then and something is exploding, someone is making a witty/wry comment, or Samuel L is making that serious humorless face that he is so good at.

Sad. I need to expand my movie watching, but I know I will just expand it to more really bad action movies.... creature of habit....

Blank

Blank.

Friday night random.

I secretly am going to rent 'Twilight' tomorrow.

I like shoes from Payless.

BLT sandwiches are my secret favorite, even though I attempt to order healthy things.... (Shannon, it's like you and your club sandwiches)

All of the girls on this 'cycle' of ANTM should not be models.

Talking to Bean is good. I am so glad to have family closer and am looking forward to Easter.

I will always call Bean 'bean', even if she hates it but I promise not to do it in public.

Why does 'What your Momma gave you' always refer to your ass?




feel free to fil lin the blanks.....

Wiggle

Poised on the edge of Jello about to become a huge part of my life, I thought I would introduce V to it

I decided I would make it for him the other night. Although 'make' is a funny word when it comes to Jello. More like 'stir' really. There is no 'make'. I poured it into a mold and 'made'
cute little star shapes out of it... (clearly it's excessive quotes night in my house)

He could have cared less about the star shapes in his hurry to get it into his mouth. Or on his face. Or all over everything.

I thought it was pretty clever, on the other hand..... And pretty cute to see his little face smeared with jello and his expression as he tried to chew it.

As I sampled my 'clever' work this evening, I had total flashbacks to riding the ferries between Vancouver Island and the mainland. Or the Gulf Islands...

Mmmmmmm Ferry jello parfait.... Really, who doesn't like a cup of Jello with a dollop of cool-whip on top. Or some mushy scrambled eggs. Which automatically makes me think of Shoot To Kill


Especially that part where they run through the ferry at the end. My sister and I always used to say they were making a break for the breakfast buffet.... Man, such an awful movie...

Sometimes I feel like I should just devote this blog to all of the awful movies that I have watched (of which there have been many). At least I would never run out of topics!

Neighbours

M and I moved from MetroWest to Hunter's Creek about a year and a half ago. When we moved into MetroWest we thought it was paradise.... 'gated' community , pool, gym etc etc it was all good.

After the crime rate skyrocketed.... we moved.

A few months later we saw one of our neighbour's on the news. We used to call him 'Jimmy Dime-bag' because, well, you know. Well, I guess you don't.... he totally used to smoke it up under the stairwell and the smell would waft up to the 3rd floor where our apartment was and linger by the front door (as it had nowhere else to go).

He was the most redneck of all rednecks.... gold teeth, white and he wore an orange prison jumpsuit most of the times we saw him. I think he was on the news because he was arrested and proclaimed that the arresting officer was racist because he was white (Jimmy, I mean.) Interesting.

Anyways, moving over here we had different neighbours...

Our first neighbour when we moved into this new apartment complex was a nice young mother and her little boy. They were the best neighbours ever. They moved out when I was about 5 months pregnant.

The neighbours that followed were a little less fun, a quieter, older couple who we didn't see much of. Unfortunately they tended to park illegally, which was OK in the beginning.... but after the 30th time it got annoying (they blocked our front entrance with their car, M complained to management and they moved shortly afterwards).

A young family moved in about 2 months ago, with 2 young kids. These kids (maybe 8 and 10) antagonize our dog a lot. Although it doesn't take that much to set him off. Simply walking passed our front window will do it. Or talking loudly. Or coughing audibly. Or any sudden movement at all will make him bark non-stop until you leave the immediate premise. It makes it really hard to open the windows or even put the blinds up.

So last weekend, as I was unlocking my front door (with V on my hip and a duffel bag over my shoulder.... I was totally overburdened) Chewie lunged out of our front door and straight across the way to the neighbours who were also just getting home. He chased their son around their patio, until the little boy started screaming and crying at the top of his lungs. As it turns out, he is terrified of dogs.

Now our dog is only about 5 pounds, but regardless. Poor little man. His mum carried him into the house shrieking and wailing while I shouted at Chewie, who coward at my feet and was pathetic and submissive until he reached the interior of our house (whereupon he totally spazzed out and barked his face off.... such a turncoat).

I apologized profusely, and my neighbour admitted that her son was terrified of all dogs. I tried to explain that Chewie hates everyone (unless you are meeting him on his turf, ie our apartment, and then its all ok). She wasn't upset at all, but I felt awful... and we haven't seen hide nor hair of those neighbours since.
(Melvin 2, Neighbours 0)

Probably means they are going to move soon too. Probably we should buy a house, which would make it easy to unleash the beast.

Art fest

V slept in today until an almost unheard of time of 7:30. Delicious.
I can handle 7:30, no probs man.... that made this the best Sunday ever.

M was up early, and sort of well rested and we ended up at the Winter Park Art Festival.

I love Winter Park. It's this posh part of Central Florida, north of Orlando that has cobble stone streets, boutiques, endless coffee shops and this air of luxury about it. It just feels rich. It's practically tangible. It even has it's own train station (you can go from NYC to Winter Park, FL if you want....it'll cost ya though...)

I hadn't been before and so was kind of expecting a Sidney Sidewalk Sale plus evening market times Downtown Victoria Sunday market kind of feel.

Not really. Not really at all.

Super tanned wealthy-looking people everywhere. You know those people that look like they just stepped of a yacht? The women so carefully dressed in a casual 'I-just-threw-this-together-at-the-last-moment-seriously' kind of way. The men eying (is that really spelled right? looks so wrong) anything in a skirt/shorts/pants or that moves. Lots of navy blue, crisp white and careful gold accessories.

And the art! Geez! I mean, it was art!

It wasn't anything like this gorgeous piece of work (spotted a few weeks ago in Mt Dora).....

And it was all shockingly expensive. I had said to M as we were walking in "Let's buy something tacky!" and he had cautioned me that it could be kind of pricey but I was confident that we would find something awful. Perhaps painted in oils. And maybe even of a manatee. Awesome.

How disappointed I was to not see anything like that at all, but to see some rather mediocre photos going for "2 for $175!", like it was a bargain or something! No oil paintings of manatees anywhere. How disappointing is that!

Since M is currently standing over me with a full plate of food staring at me with no expression on his face (and I am in the bedroom typing with the lights off) this is a clear indication that I should go and have dinner with him before he loses it even further....
I thought I would leave you with what I was imagining we would find and hang in our livingroom.... Although I would really like to find this. So awesome.

Awkward

Every Saturday morning, V and I take a nice long walk while we let M sleep in as he always works super late on Friday nights.

This Saturday morning was extremely lovely, the weather was perfect for a stroll and it is a perfect time for contemplation.

What started me thinking was the person that was approaching me. For some reason I always feel uncomfortable when the sidewalks are empty except for that one person heading towards you.
So I started feeling uncomfortable, more uncomfortable as he got closer and closer and then he said............. "Morning!" in a bright and cheery voice.

I responded in a more subdued manner with "Morning", My eyes glanced up at his face, made quick contact and slid away...

What is wrong with me?

I can't even say 'Good Morning' to a pleasant person out on a stroll just like me? Am I so paranoid?

So I had to ponder this for the rest of the walk.

I have this feeling it comes across as snobby. I mean, I know it did in high school (or at least I remember one person telling me that in grade 12, much to my dismay as I was anything and am anything but).

I just can be slightly socially awkward. Oh and say inappropriate things.... sometimes it seems like I have no control over my mouth, things come out (and I think....'oh, I shouldn't have said that'... but it's already out there....). So maybe instead of saying 'slightly' socially awkward, I should just say socially awkward. All the way baby....

It takes me quite a while to relax and feel comfortable with you. You being you in the actual real world, in-person that is. I think I come across a little different via email. I know I can be way more verbose and quick-witted. And eloquent. It is easy when you can erase or delete that last sentence and write it again before you send it.

I have no control over it really, and envy people that are easily chatty. And have tons of friends. I have tried to change it, but to no avail. I think it's here to stay, as much as I try to change it. And happily M gets it, and always has....

Nightwoman

It's been a long week and as I finally settle into Friday night, exhaustion hits me....

Clearly I need some more sleep, something which struck me this early morning when I woke up on the couch. At about 3:45 am

I was seriously confused. Couch? What? And covered in blankets. It was exactly how I used to sleep when V was itty-bitty and I would let him snooze in his bouncy seat while I dozed on the couch.

V, however, was still sleeping in his crib and M was still sleeping in our bed. So why was I on the couch?

Oh, and let me add some details about my wardrobe.

I had gone to bed in a tank-top and bottoms, and woke up in a tank-tap. Imagine my bewilderment! Partially undressed, alone, on the couch at 3:45 am when I remember(clearly) going to bed in my bed. M hadn't stirred all night and didn't even notice when I crawled back into bed. With some new bottoms on..

I found my bottoms later that morning on top of my dresser. I think I was so tired I was sleepwalking. It's really the only thing I can come up with....ha! I can hardly believe it!

While I was thinking about sleepwalking, I remembered doing it when I was little and we lived in Coombs. I woke up naked in the laundry closet, I think I was about 5 or 6. Maybe I was really tired then too?

I really hope it doesn't happen again tonight. And if it does I hope I manage to keep my panties on and stay in the house and not wander around the neighbour's yard.

Shortie

This really will be a short post, unlike my last so-called short post that was hugely long. I do excel at rambling though.....

Just some random thoughts...

Superman Returns is not a good movie. In fact it might be awful (I am watching the tail end of it right now...not good)

M makes homemade Tzatziki and it is awesome.

I held a coworker's little teeny baby today and now have babies on the mind even though V isn't even a year old. Man!

I sometimes call V 'Chewie', and the dog (who is actually Chewie) V, and now completely understand why my Mum used to call my sister and I by each other's names.

I ran 4 miles yesterday, my personal best since giving birth, and am mentally planning my 'comeback' 5 k.

The idea of a 'RoastBurger' from Arby's makes me want to heave....

We saw a sign for a Clown Museum on a recent drive and, even though I hate clowns (especially Mimes) I still kinda want to go.

I miss my sister an awful lot, and wish she lived in the States instead of Canada.... next-door to me if possible...

My Grandma's health is really not the greatest at the moment and I pretty much think my Dad is going to call at any moment and give me 'The bad news'.....sigh....

We are heading to Canada in about 10 weeks, and I still haven't sorted out V's passport. Or mine. Or M's.

This week I am really really tired.

Excessive use of CGI annoys me to no end.

I can't stand it when live animals in films have their mouths altered to look like they are speaking.... stupid, I know, but it makes me so angry!

I am totally addicted to Facebook, which is very sad.

I need to go to bed now. I have had enough of Superman Returns and my dog is snoozing on my feet, a clear sign I should be cuddling with him (oh, and M of course) in bed. Our new King-size bed I might add..... that I am going to crawl to as I am so very very very tired

Ridiculous

Just a quick post tonight. I am still tired from the weekend, and the most ridiculous of all days (that would be today).

It started out with Ginette (who takes care of V) telling me she was sure that 'The Dr' would be putting V on a diet as he's too big. He is only 9 months old, and I am sure that it is impossible for any child to be considered obese at this age. They are still babies!! V happens to be in the 95th percentile..... he's a big boy! So is his Daddy! It called Genetics! Rawr!

This was followed by her entreating me to ask 'The Dr' to switch him to 1% Milk.

Again.

HE IS 9 MONTHS OLD.

It is just not dietarily (I am pretty sure this is not an official word.... Tal, is it??) appropriate.

Well, if you want to bring out the overprotective mother dinosaur in me, please make more statements like this. And she responded with "Yes, I will" and proceeded to caution me against giving him yogurt without checking with "The Dr" first.

I calmly told her that I have been giving it to him for about a month, he loves it (YoBaby) and it's fine.

She responded with some slightly unintelligible story about one of the little girls that she looks after eating yogurt and having some problems *cue rapid gesturing around the genitals* 'DOWN THERE'.

V=boy
Girls= well, girls....... it's a whole different thing, which we, as adults (and parents) are aware of. Genitally speaking, that is...

This most ridiculous of conversations (that I could not share with M, as it annoys him so much to hear that Ginette says these things that he practically explodes.....) was followed by something even more ridiculous...

I called to confirm V's doctor appointment this morning. Now, generally they call me to remind me of the appointment, but this time they didn't. And that was why I called.

Apparently, there was no appointment scheduled, nothing on the books at all and it was all getting rather confused when someone shouted out in the background "I canceled it!!!!!".

I was all like 'Say whaaaa....??????' etc etc...

Apparently they were under the impression that we had moved to California.

That's right.

We had moved to California. And since I drive past that office every morning, I can tell you it's not true. I still live in Orlando. Really.

This was followed by apologies, a slightly later appointment time, our arrival at said appt, waiting waiting and waiting...... then I discovered that all of this waiting was because one of 'The Dr's' has diverticulitus and is recovering from surgery in the hospital. And the poor Dr that was filling in (our beloved Dr E, who I might add has 8 month old twins at home, is still breastfeeding and hadn't pumped all day...... as she told me when we left at 5:45, was running the show...)

V was exhausted from all of the screaming and it was dinner, bath and bed in quick sucession....

And the same for Mummy! Good night!

Ocean

The tail end of a long weekend.... a long sleep deprived weekend.

Sleep........ delicious sleep..... I can only wish....

M and I went to Melbourne Beach , with V of course!
It was lovely... It's been at least a year since I have seen the ocean, which is just unbelievable. It was one of the things that I missed moving from the We(s)t Coast to Central Florida. I have never lived 'Central' before, and am unused to actually having to drive to get to the Ocean.

That's right, I capitalized it.

Sometimes it's just so mighty (like it was in my previous{ times 2} sentence) that it deserves it.

How lovely to see the ocean. I had forgotten what that sweet ocean air smells like, so salty and delicious. And the sand was so fine and soft under my bare feet. The wind whipped my hair around into a big ol'mess. I totally needed a scarf for my hair AND we needed to be in a convertible. AND I probably needed to be wearing some red hot lipstick (see previous post).

My feet felt the surf slide over them, the water foamed around my toes and M danced back at cold of that water (darn East coast)... I took a deep breath the first time it washed over though. But it felt so good...

We dipped V's little feet into that cool water and he shrieked! And clung to his Daddy so hard that someone would have needed a crowbar to pry him off.

It was almost like a baptism, in a West Coastish, East Coastish salt water mixture, soul of the Canadian sort of way. In a way, a kind of mixture of New York and Victoria mingling in the east coast water. In my mind that is....

I cannot wait to introduce him to those West Coast waterways. Have that cold and clear water of the North rush over those chubby and gorgeous little feet. Have them dip in and out of clear water on the Island, and get dirty on those sandy beaches on the West Coast.

Bits (seriously)

V is currently a bath time fanatic.... And I just remembered what happened while I was giving him his bath yesterday.

He was splashing happily away, when he happened to glance down and spot something he hadn't really noticed before.

His bits. And I am pretty sure I don't need to elaborate on what that means. You are all smart, right?

He was fascinated. There was a lot of poking and prodding and tugging on little bits. I tried to distract him, but really it was like he had just discovered the Holy Grail, or like that scene from The Goonies where they actually find the pirate treasure.

It's so neat when they make these little discoveries. Like "Wow, this hand will do what I tell it to!" or "I can put this foot in my mouth!". In this case, I think it was something like "Hey! These bits are all stretchy! Look at how stretchy they are! Awesome!". The look on his face was wonderful, so innocent....