Happy Birthday TO ME!!!!!

Today has been WAY better than I expected. Because, well, I expected nothing, and received much.

The Husband woke me up with breakfast (he went into work late so he could make me breakfast), a wonderful omelet, bagel with nutella, fruit, and bacon. Oh and of course coffee and a large Mimosa. Yes please.

(I would never drink a Mimosa at 7:45am, not me!)

He had arranged to take The Child over to a friends for the day and said that my birthday surprise would be arriving around 9am. Off they went, and I enjoyed a quiet breakfast and then my Mimosa or two in the garden.

The birthday surprise just showed up... two wonderful ladies that are going to clean scrub scour spic & span my entire house. Sigh. Do you know how wonderful of a gift that is? Some women are 'cleaning inspired'. I am not one of those women, it is a serious chore for me. I remember when I was young, my mom would often lament how all she wanted for her birthday, or Mother's Day, or any special day, was a clean house. I didn't really understand it then, but now, as a Mother myself, I completely get it. Right now, I am so incredible grateful to The Husband for being so wonderful to me. I was not pouting all day yesterday because I thought he forgot.

I also received a very special email from my Mom, a recollection of my birth story. I was waiting for her permission to post it on my blog, but I can't wait any longer. Enjoy!

Skyla Jo Rebecca Poulette/Hall- Helfrick-Bradley

Written by: Gloria

"...I thought for your birthday I would take you back to the day of your birth and recap what it was like for me.

I can’t remember exactly the day your due date was predicted, but I do remember being excited that it was going to be somewhere around my birthday, and naturally hoping it would be on the same day. Yet my birthday came and went, with a surprise that was not expected at all. It was from that day on that I realized I was on my own with you as your birth dad decided it was a good day to disappear. That week was pretty much a blur, and as I should have been enjoying the “nesting’ time before you came, instead I found myself smoking 2 packs of cigarettes a day and frantically trying to figure out what went wrong with my so called marriage. My mom and dad though were incredible. My mom put up with my constant questioning and worry every day, and was the best listener and most patient person in the world. And as much as she wanted to really give a piece of her mind as to what she really thought about Brad taking off, she kept her peace and kept her focus on the fact that I was about to give birth. She knew what was ahead; me on the other hand, I didn’t have a clue.

June 25^th 1981 – Thursday

6am - I awoke to go to the bathroom and got up from my waterbed. Yes, a waterbed…I pretty much had to rock myself out of bed every morning…and felt like a beached whale. As soon as I walked to the bathroom, my water broke. I called to my mom who had been staying with me, and she called the hospital right away. I didn’t understand why she was calling the hospital, as I didn’t think that I would be having you yet just because my water broke. It didn’t follow along with all the prenatal classes I went too as I was told labor was supposed to happen first. But my mom reassured me that we would be going to the hospital that day and to get myself ready. In the meantime she got my dad going as well, he was the driver. He was incredibly calm, almost too much so. He took a long time getting ready, and then slowly made his way to the car. Even though he was driving, he was also driving my mom crazy as she kept on telling him to hurry up. I think he was trying to overcompensate because my mom was pretty intense and he wanted to be calm on my account. I also was very calm and still didn’t see the need to go to the hospital, but wasn’t about to go against my mom.

So off we went. We arrived around 9am. They checked me in and took me to the labor room. I still hadn’t started labor and was getting restless, so I decided to join my Dad out in the waiting room. By this time Sharon had arrived as well. I was still kinda stunned at everything that was going on and still not sure if I was going to have you that day. I asked Dad for a smoke, he was nervous by that point, and gave me two. So there we were all sitting in the waiting room smoking, when all of a sudden the contractions started. They came on really fast, so much so that I had a hard time walking back to the labor room. Sharon, wasn’t sure she was going to be allowed to come into the labor room with me, I thought they were only going to allow my mom to come in. But she was thrilled when the nurse came out and told her to scrub up and come in as well.

I had a lot of back labor, and my energy was a bit zapped due to my walk to the waiting room, and having a smoke didn’t help either. They decided to give me a shot of Demerol.

The next couple hours were so peaceful. Sharon and Grandma kept taking turns rubbing my back. Lorraine, my cousin also came in for a short time to give them a break. After about 4 hours of labor the Demerol wore off and I wasn’t quite prepared for the pain. I wanted more drugs, but was too close to delivery, so they just humored me by giving me “laughing” gas to take the edge off.

At around 5pm they said I was fully dilated and took me into the delivery room. Only Sharon and my mom were allowed to come with me. As soon as I got there, my urge to “push” and my contractions subsided. It was so funny as I remember the doctor sitting in the corner with his arms crossed waiting. I started to get antsy and worried that they would send me home if I didn’t start pushing. So I asked him “are you going to send me home?” I think he laughed, and replied, “no, you’re going to have the baby tonight”, which was a relief to hear….

6pm - Sure enough you came out, 7lbs 11oz. Your little hand reached up and grabbed onto the forceps (yes, they used those back then). They placed you on my tummy for a few minutes then whisked you away to get you all cleaned up. When they brought you to me I couldn’t believe how beautiful you were. Partly because you were a dry birth. Your skin was so soft and smooth and glowy. So precious. And the hair…so cute, it stood straight up.

From that point on everything seemed to work like clockwork. You were an easy baby and seemed to have an ability to ease my worry. At times it almost seemed like you knew how to help me care for you. God knew in creating you that you would be strong, and sensitive. You had a way about you that made me feel like you understood some of the tragedy that had happened and I felt that you and I could weather any storm as long as we weathered it together.

So there you have it…a full recount to the best of my ablity and memory…Even though most of it you know and we’ve shared I thought it would be good to have it in writing."

Oh, and I just discovered a wonderful new bloggity-blog friend, and surprise surprise, its her birthday today TOO! How fun! Happy Birthday Kimber!!!

Not Me Monday

This will probably be my last post for the week, as I have not been procrastinating on preparing to teach my Birthing From Within Childbirth Prep class this coming weekend. I do not find blogging as a great distraction escape from the things that need to be done. Please stick with me, my Faithful Few, while I study sunbathe and prepare for the upcoming class.

As things will be a little quiet on my end this week, I will leave you with a few "Not Me's" that did not happen to me over the past few days.

Perhaps you read my wonderful, long, Not Me Monday story last week about my infatuation with Ziploc baggies, and my life-time supply? If not, you can catch up here.

Well, my dear friend and Doula partner, (and brand new Mama of two!) Trish, did not let me know of her desperate need of Freezer bags. I, of course, was more than willing to part with a few boxes, and promptly let her know that I would drop some off. I did not then go to the pantry to pull out a box or two to put by the front door, only to realize.... that it was Sandwich baggies that I had a life-time supply of, not Freezer! I did not completely confuse the two while writing my NMM last week. Nope, I do not have naturally blonde hair. Not Me!

After meeting with a potential, new Doula client, I did not find my tummy grumbling on the drive home. There was not a Taco Del Mar conveniently located at the next street, and I did not decide to pull in and eliminate my grumbling tummy. I did not order two, soft, chicken taco's to-go, with a side of chips and guacamole (which was the worst guac I've ever had. My fault I suppose for expecting fresh guac at 9pm). I would never drive and eat, definitely not. If you were to have passed me on the highway, and looked into my car, you would not have seen my feeble attempts to eat soft taco's while driving a standard (stick-shift). There was not hot salsa and chicken juice dripping down my arm and landing in fun little pools on my shirt, pants, and seat. My face and lap were not covered in Pico de Gallo and tortilla chip crumbs. After attempting miserably to not eat one taco and drive, I definitely did not unwrap the second taco and continue to down my mexican path of destruction. Nope, not me!

I was not wearing white, plaid shorts, while out at a family carnival at The Husband's job site. "Someone"...very...ahem... "special" cursed did not come a knockin' on my outhouse door while stopping in for a quick potty break. Of course I am ALWAYS prepared and I did not need to become extremely creative with toilet paper. Nope, not me!

See you in a week, My Faithful Few!

Happy Father's Day.

I know it's late. Technically Father's Day ended at 6pm. Well, it did in our house, because that is the time that Mommy (me) is DONE. So here I am, Father's Day is over, but I wanted to take a moment to put up a few precious pictures to honor The Husband as a father. A really great one at that!

New snuggles

Naps on the couch...

Watching TV....

Playing soccer and Tball....

Fishing....

Learning why it is so great to be a boy....

Skipping stones....

And always.... tons of kisses!

And of course, a few pictures to honor my own father, as the perfect Grandpa. The Child is counting the days that Grandpa and Grandma make their journey back from Hawaii. A year is too long.

Grandpa was the best at soothing him to sleep....

Connected from the beginning...

Wordless Wednesday- Summa Time!!!

Not Me Monday

Last Monday, I did not skip writing my usual "Not Me Monday" post, in favor of a nap. Nope, not me!

So this week, because I am very dedicated to my blogging, I will shower upon you the fateful, funny things that have occurred.

I am not in love obsessed with ziploc baggies. You would never find a drawer in my kitchen with three different sizes of baggies to suite my storage needs. While shopping at Costco this past week, I did not do a ziploc happy dance in the middle of the isle when I saw their jumbo packs of baggies were on sale. Once the happy dance was complete, I stopped for a moment to try and remember what size I actually needed. Ok, I didn't stop for very long, because we all know how Mommy Brain works... or doesn't. I was pretty convinced that I was almost out of my freezer ziplocs, and still had plenty of sandwich ones at home. I did not continue to do a little happy shuffle the rest of my shopping trip, over the $3 reduction of price on my freezer ziploc's. Once we arrived home, and while dutifully putting away my groceries, I did not, to my dismay, realize that my pantry was fully stocked with freezer ziploc's. I do not only have one box of sandwich ziploc's in my pantry, and 12 boxes of freezer size. I am currently not set for life in the freezer ziploc department. Nope, not me.

I did not feel so inspired after watching last weeks "So You Think You Can Dance" episode, feel the need to reenact the beautiful dances. I did not find The Husband singing Bryan Adams "I Will Be Right Here Waiting For You" (as one of the couples just finished dancing to this song) in the kitchen after the show was over. The need to dance did not arise in me so strong, of course there was no help from the glass or two of wine that I had just consumed. It was not me who proceeded to twirl around and around, empty wine glass in hand, into The Husband's strong, singing arms. We did not hear the crushing sound of glass as my twirl stumble ended right into his chest. We froze for a moment, registering what had just happened. Upon looking down, we did not find an empty wine glass, still in my hand, shattered to a million pieces. It did not cut my hand/fingers in three separate places

Of course, it was not me who recounted the above story to the bank teller when she asked me why I had so many band-aids on my hand. Nope, not me!

We are not the kind of parents who would ever let our son run around outside, naked as the day he was born, in the front yard for all the neighbors and passing traffic to see. Of course, our son did not repeatedly announce to the world, "Look! I'm naked!!!". Nope, not us!!

What are YOU making for dinner?

Since my last recipe post was such a hit (or so I am told), I was inspired to post another one of my all time favorite summer recipes. This one was a collaboration between me and my fabulous sis-in-law. She is one of the few people I will allow in the kitchen with me whilst I create my masterpieces. Generally, I am very territorial, but she is like the perfect kitchen/cooking partner. She completes me. You know when people are so close they complete each others sentences? She completes my cooking sentences. How is that possible you ask? While working creating side by side, before I can even say what I need done next, or what spice or complimentary flavor needs to be added, she is already there, doing it. She is my cooking soul mate.

Leia, my love, this recipe is for you!

Indian Inspired Chicken Donairs

The Marinade

~3 or 4 Medium sized chicken boobs- This will feed 4 hungry people, plus left overs!

~4 heaping spoon fulls of "Pataks Mild Curry Paste" (or your favorite Curry Paste). Eyeball it. If you like your food spicy like you like your lovers (ahahaha) then add some hot sauce to the marinade. It is easier to add more heat then to try and take it away.

~Good hand full of freshly chopped mint.

~2-4 Finely minced garlic cloves. Subjective to how much you love garlic.

~A good drizzle of EVOO*, you want enough oil to make the curry, mint, garlic concoction a good paste-like consistency. Not too runny. *Extra Virgin Olive Oil

~A large zip-loc bag.

~Salt & Pepper

Combine Curry Paste, Mint, Garlic, EVOO, and Salt & Pepper in ziploc bag. Mush it around until mixed. Add Chicken Boobs to baggie. Mush paste all around chicken until coated and marinating happily with its East Indian friends. Let sit in fridge for a few hours. The longer the better. A few hours at least.

The Fixin's

~4-6 Naan Breads. Depends on how hungry everyone is. Superstore sells the best Naan's that I have found, that are the closest to the real thing. I suppose you could even go to your favorite Indian restaurant and purchase a few Naan's for take-out.

~Raita. If you have all the time in the world, make your own! I love the ease of this meal, so I purchase it pre-made. What is Raita you ask? Its this delicious cool, yogurt based dip/spread filled with mint, cilantro, and cucumber. Mmmmmm. You could also use Tzatiki, but then they would be more "Greek" inspired, not "Indian".

~Thinly sliced cucumbers and red onions.

~Fresh cilantro. Heaps of it! I keep the leaves on the stems, and use it like a lettuce.

The Finished Product

Get your BBQ nice and hot. Remove happy chicken boobs from there marinade home, and grill them up. The key to this meal is not over cooking your chicken! Well, the key to any good BBQ is not over cooking. If you don't have a meat thermometer, I highly recommend purchasing one, they are fairly inexpensive. That way you don't have to cut your meat while its grilling, therefore losing all those yummy juices. Depending on the size of your boobs, chicken boobs, I mean. They will probably only need about 6-8 minutes per side. Once they are cooked, place on a plate, cover with tinfoil and let them rest. Yes, those precious boobs need their rest. This is what makes BBQ meat moist and juicy. (who knew that a recipe could become so provocative ...eep!). Let them sit in their tinfoil tent for about 10 minutes. Perfect time for you to chop up all your veggies, throw the Naan's in the oven, set the table, and apply a fresh coat of lip stick.

Slice up your chicken right before serving, and place on warm Naan bread, topping it all off with the cucumbers, red onions, cilantro and Raita.

Have lots of napkins on hand as this does get a little messy. Enjoy!

*We were out of red onions when I photographed the above masterpiece, so I improvised with yellow bell peppers instead

You're it....

I've been tagged. Thanks to the fabulous Mama4Real. So enjoy reading a blog about the randomness that makes me happy. Which I'm sure you, My Faithful Few could actually even write for me, as I'm always writing about my happy things.

Here are the rules, you better run, 'cus I'm tagging YOU next!!!!

The Rules:

* List Six Unimportant Things That Make You Happy

* Mention and link to the person who tagged you

* Tag six of your favorite bloggers to play along
{and comment on their blog to let them know they’ve been tagged}

*I don't think I even know 6 fellow bloggers... so I will do my best....

1. Food. Any kind, any time, any where. Hmmm I'm not sure if food really counts,

as it technically would not be labelled as "unimportant". Its pretty important if I do say so myself. It still makes me happy, especially if it comes in the form of ice cream, chocolate, bread, coffee or ambrosia salad.

2. Summer Nights. So much about a beautiful summer night makes me happy. It conjures up memories of night swimming in the warm, Okanagan Lake, when I was young and fancy-free. It makes me very happy that the sun does not go down until close to 11pm here. One of my few, favorite things about Edmonton.

3. Waking up to a clean kitchen. Simple, yet very effective on my mood for the day.

4. Painted, pedicured, toenails. The night before I went into labor with The Child, I begged The Husband to take me for a pedicure. All I wanted as I birthed my child were cute toenails to focus on. We went to a movie instead. Perhaps that is why it took so long to birth him, I was angry at my ugly toes.

5. When The Child calls Daddy by his first name. There is nothing funnier than hearing a little 3yr old yell down the stairs, summoning his father by his first name. Makes me laugh every time.

6. When something I expect to not be done, is actually done. For instance, the bathtub emptied and toys put away after The Child's bath. Or the toothpaste cap replaced. Or coming down the stairs after The Child is in bed and finding out that The Husband has picked up the hurricane of toys in the living room. It is those little things, that seem so unimportant that are the most impacting. *Hint, hint:)

Ok. YOUR turn!!!

Mom @ http://www.glori-ah.blogspot.com/

Tracy @ http://palmeroni.blogspot.com/

Kim @ http://www.beanmakes3.blogspot.com/

Trish @ http://trish-walker.blogspot.com/

Becky @ http://www.beckywspot.blogspot.com/

Oh boy. It looks like I only have 5. How pathetic is that?

Leave a comment on this post if you want to be tagged :)

Cheers!

Bah. Some weeks I feel like super blogger, extra creative, bursting with words, awesome Mom. Then other weeks I feel like there is nothing that I can write that is witty, creative, or cool.

Oh look. It's Wednesday...can I just post a bunch of random pictures of The Child and call it a "Wordless Wednesday" post?

Sigh.

Probably not, I do not wish to anger you, my readers, my Faithful Few. I know you hang on to every single word that I type, like it was the last breath you could take, or the last drop of vodka for your cosmo.... what? Cosmos?! Who drinks those girly drinks anyways...

Ahem.

This past week has been one that I feel like could have written something amazing everyday, as it was a very full week. I discovered things about people that I never knew, learned that there really is something called Hypnobirthing (talk to me in person if you really want to know what I think), and I had two grown women who I've looked up to my whole life, weep on the phone to me, leaning on me for encouragement and love. Talk about a heavy reversal of roles!

My favorite part of the week, I have to say, was participating in a Mother's Blessing. Forget Baby Showers and their ridiculous games (Clothespin game.. the worst!!!). That event has impacted me for the rest of my life. What a treasure and honor to initiate a mother into her journey of labor and birth. To feed her words of wisdom, encouragement, love, joy and tears. (Tears as in the drops the come from you eyes when you are an emotional mess. Not tears as in ripping. That might come later in her journey. I am currently sending her stretchy vibes!) Don't even get me started on the most delicious chocolate cake that we devoured (among other delicacies) after the Blessing was complete. Actually, I would say that the food was a very important part of the Blessing. We fed our spirits, souls... and then our belly's. We were full in every aspect.

Being around such amazing and powerful women caused me to remember and love the important women in my own life. It's amazing how memories can be invoked with food.

Yes.

Food. Or beverage.

For as long as I could remember, one of my Grandma's most favored beverages (at least the one she would drink in the open) was club soda with lemon. I always thought it was gross. Hello. Where is the sugar?!? I'm not sure when my own Mother started partaking in the beverage, whether it was before or after Grandma passed away. But slowly it started to grow on me too. Almost like we were honoring one of our small memories of her every time we opened a can of ice cold, Club Soda. Enjoying it thoroughly with lemon and ice, on a very hot, summers day.

So here's to Grandma... I miss her more than I allow myself to think about.

And also to my Mother, whom I also miss more than I allow myself to think about.

Good thing she's only in Hawaii, and shortly we will be together again, enjoying on of these on a very hot, summers day.

How Could You....?

...ever say "NO" to this face?!?!

Oh, wait. I just did.*

*I definitely did not just say "NO" to a second piece of ice-cream cake just to get an awesome pouty picture.

Seriously? What kind of Mother would do that?!?!

Not Me Messy Monday

Since I was a child, Sunday morning was always hectic. There has been very few Sunday mornings in my lifetime that were relaxed and lazy, unless we skipped church, which we would NEVER do. Sunday morning has always been full of yelling, running around, getting everyone organized and into the car... off to church we go... one big happy family, right?! 

This past Sunday morning, I had decided to definitely not skip church. The Husband had to play drums and had to be there early in the morning for practice, and stay until the last note was sung. He did not call me just before the first service to say that he could come pick us up in between services. I did not agree to that plan, knowing full well that I only had an hour to get myself and The Child ready.

If you know me at all, you know that I am definitely the most on time and punctual person. Ahem.

So our Sunday morning turned from a relaxing, pajama morning, into the Sunday mornings of my childhood. I did not proceed to hop in the shower, leaving The Child completely unattended... downstairs... to not do whatever he pleased. I definitely do not do this on a regular basis.

Just as I was finishing up in the shower, The Child entered the bathroom, without pajama bottoms.

Me: "Hi sweetie, what happened to your pants? Did you go potty?"

The Child: "Yip!"

Me: "Did you go pee in the potty?"

The Child: "Yip!"

He did not proceed to turn around to leave the bathroom, and I did not notice the large smear of poo running up the back of his leg.

Me: "Did you go poop in the potty, too? Or in your pants?"

The Child: "Yip!"

Me: "Well, which one?"

The Child: "Yip!"

Ok, obviously The Child was a plethora of answers and it was at that moment I knew I had to do some Sunday morning poop investigating of my own. I quickly grabbed a towel and headed downstairs. As I ran jiggled my way down the stairs, I was definitely not hit with the wonderful smell of feces half way down the stairs. Awesome. Now to figure out where the culprit poo is hiding. As I rounded the last set of stairs, I did not see the Sunday morning poop disaster. There on the stairs, which are not carpeted, was a large brown spot. Laying on the floor beside the stairs was not The Child's pajama bottoms, full of poop. He had definitely not smeared poop all over the floor in an attempt to take off his bottoms. As I let out a huge sigh of awesomeness, The Child did not clap and laugh at his accomplishment of going poop. I did not carry him at arms length up the stairs to put him in the bath. I previously had not used up all the hot water during my shower and The Child definitely did not sit in a cool cold bath for the next 20 minutes as I attacked the Sunday morning poop disaster. 

If you were to walk into my house at that exact moment, you would not have found a naked, crazy haired, frazzled looking Mama, madly scrubbing poop out of the carpet on the stair, and a very happy toddler sitting playing in a cold bath. Nope, not me!

In case you were wondering, we did make it to church on time. Thankfully, The Husband was home a few minutes before schedule and was able to dress and feed the child, while I changed from crazy, naked Mama... into calm, cool, and hawt looking Mama. 

I have learned a lesson this week. There are some periods of time that you should just not leave your child alone. Of course, like I mentioned before, I never leave him unattended. One afternoon, I was not upstairs doing my wifely duties of folding laundry, cleaning, organizing, beautifying... when I came downstairs to find the child and my kitchen not looking like this:

That is definitely not the Costco sized box of Baking Soda all over my pantry cupboard and kitchen floor. The Child was definitely not being creative and drawing designs with his fingers all in the piles of Baking Soda. *Sigh* It was not me that found the situation so ridiculous that I did not laugh uncontrollably. Or take pictures. Nope, Not me!

PS. Apparently he felt like he had to live up to what is written on his tshirt....as it does not say

"100% good     10% of the time"!