Crib Building 101

A few weeks ago, we picked up a crib for the baby-to-be at Ikea. In fact, we found the one we wanted in the As Is section for $40-off, because it had been a floor model. (Don't worry—we bought the mattress brand new!) Late one night, the Husband crossed a milestone off his life list and assembled said crib:


I helped by snapping photos that included another Ikea purchase: Nipples the cat.


Inappropriate name for a stuffed animal meant for a child, you say? Well, agreed*. But what you can't see in these photos is that Ikea manufactured a stuffed cat and added 8 nipples to said cat. Why, pray tell, does a stuffed cat need nipples!?

Nevertheless, Nipples has such personality:


And the Husband did a fantastic job:


Nipples had to rest with Daphne afterwards.


We're getting closer to finishing the nursery decor—just need to hang some shelves and artwork (we purchased some from here). Then I will snap some shots and post a few for all of you!

*We also have an owl named Hooters. Meaning we've possibly already ruined this poor little human being.

Moving and Hallowe'en

Okay, we're playing blog catch-up here, since there's been amazing amounts of stuff happening in my life of late. Bear with me!

First, we moved. Daphne was clearly worried that we would forget her in the chaos, so she took to sleeping in the Husband's suitcase as a precaution:


But when moving day actually arrived, Schmatty was none too pleased with the arrival of strange people in the apartment, so she cowered in the closet for most of the day:


For us, moving day dawned with a feeling of excitement in the air. We were finally moving into our house!

This excitement ended around the time the movers were officially late (they finally came an hour past their scheduled arrival, which was enough to drive the pregnant, type-A Virgo planner in me completely around the bend ) but reappeared hours later when everything was finally in the new place. And we'd had proper food.

Much of the following week looked just like this picture: the belly and the boxes:


(Unfortunately for the Husband, the belly meant he was the one to move the boxes from room to room to room as we tried to make sense of our living space.)

Daphne tried to make sense of her new surroundings and discovered the best place to keep an eye on both of us is generally the landing going down the stairs:

Two days after we moved in, our first house guest arrived fresh from Montreal, with her own kitty, to take up residence in our basement for a while. It's been awesome having her here! And she made it in time for Hallowe'en.


Okay, we'd only been in the house for about four days when the big night arrived, so there were no costumes. The Husband did manage to carve a pumpkin and we stocked up on a ton of candy, thinking there'd be a steady stream of kids all evening long.


Alas, we counted about 60 kids in total. Plus three moms that had their own bags for candy...

Belly shot update!

Okay, it's been busy and there's lots to blog about, but my to-do list keeps getting longer! However, here's some more belly shots:

Week 30


Week 31



Week 32


I have to admit, I'm done with the pregnancy part. My back and hips are sore all the time. Thank goodness for Tylenol! I can only seem to sleep in one-hour increments before I have to get up and pee or try to shift to a slightly less uncomfortable position in bed. Leaning over in any way is almost impossible. I'm short-of-breath all the time. Oh, and the skin on the top of my belly gets so sensitive it's crazy painful!

I'm getting anxious to meet the little person that's rolling around inside me.

Okay, stay tuned for more posts soon. Lots more to share!

Weeks 27 and 28

Lots to be thankful for this Thanksgiving weekend, including a baby that is squirming all over the place in my ever-growing belly.

Week 27:



And week 28:



A full seven months pregnant now, I am finding it harder and harder to haul this body around. I ran errands for an hour at lunch today and felt like I'd run 10k!

But I'm persevering! Trying to get our apartment packed up in preparation for the big move. (What were we thinking combining two of life's most stressful events?) And sometimes just watching the Husband pack while I sit down and rest.

Other things I'm thankful for: the Husband, our crazy cat, wonderful friends, my super-excited family, a job in this awful economy, the new house, and a beautiful place on the water to spend Thanksgiving weekend.

I am a lucky, lucky girl.

26 Weeks

Here are last weeks belly shots at 26 weeks:



And here's how you pass the time when you're pregnant:


The cat fits into newborn onesies surprisingly well!

Six months in...

In order to explain where I'm at mentally 25 weeks into this pregnancy, I feel an anecdote is in order.

Back in my theatre school days, three years of training culminated into an onstage sort of thesis called a Nightclub Critique. (Now that I think about it, that's such a weird name. I have never in my life referred to an establishment as a "nightclub." Dance club, yes. Nightclub, no.) The idea was to put together a little solo show consisting of 3-4 songs, a back-up band, lighting... the whole works. We then had to perform this mini concert for all of the students in the three year program, plus guests and an invited panel of judges - probably close to 200 people. At the end of each act, the performer would have to come out and sit at the front of the theatre and be critiqued by the judges while everyone watched.

Wait! Maybe that's how the whole Idol franchise was created!? I have never thought about that until now.

Anyway, one of the main classes that we took to prepare for this virtuoso moment was called, in my day, pop class. As in pop music. As in the kind of music they play during morning rush hour on the radio.

My fellow classmates were AWESOME at this class. They performed the hits of Sheryl Crow, Alanis Morrisette and Sarah Mclachlan beautifully. (It was the mid-90s.) In fact, I was often brought to tears listening to them, although that may have had something to do with the extreme fatigue and constant self-doubt that comes with the theatre school territory.

My own talents in this genre did not stretch quite so far. No matter what I attempted, including an ill-advised rendition of Bonnie Rait's, "I Can't Make You Love Me," and a still oft-mocked warbling of the tragic torch song "Black Coffee," which I sang with the same gusto and glee that I usually attack any national anthem, I was Julie Andrew trying to be Diana Ross. In a word: awful. And the teacher - very well-liked by many - seemed to give up on me from early days, preferring to concentrate on the budding rock stars surrounding me.

Alas, when it came time for nightclub critique, I was totally excited but also a little lost. So I chose a few innocuous jazz standards and concentrated on the part I knew I could control: My outfit.

I ventured into the big city from the 'burbs and scoured Queen West for exactly the right frock for the occasion, slapping down my mishandled student Mastercard like a pro for a flirty little number made of lime green raw silk that changed colours under the lights. Not being able to locate a pair of silver heels to match, I settled for some strappy black ones and attacked them with a can of silver spray paint. I even splurged on a visit to a nail salon and had a fake set of lengthy fingernails applied. (I cringe now to think of how much I actually paid in interest charges for those talons!) I found the right set of jewellery for a little sparkle and picked up some new nylons and a pair of false eyelashes.

I was totally ready!

The day of the critique arrived and I bustled around the dressing room, making sure I looked absolutely perfect. And then it was my turn and I strode out on to the stage...

My vague, long-buried memories of this event involve me sort of flailing around the huge space, microphone cord trailing behind me. I know I had roped a few of the guys in the class into being in one of the numbers with me, but I don't know if we ever actually rehearsed. I was supposed to have patter, which is the talking between songs part, but I can't recall saying anything. What I really remember is finally being done and coming off stage, only to realize that I had to turn back around and be critiqued in front of everyone. And it was the one time in my life where I very nearly actually ran away from a situation.

Anyway, that's kind of where I'm at about being a parent. I'm feeling really confident that this baby is going to have a cute nursery filled with good books to read and adorable outfits to wear, but I'm still not clear about what exactly I'm supposed to do with him or her once he/she arrives. I'm worried that I might not live up to everyone else around me and wind up looking back at the experience with an uncontrollable grimace of embarrassment and inescapable feelings of inadequacy.

But maybe that's how everyone feels?

Because unlike pop class, you don't get to practice every week beforehand. And maybe as a parent, you get to capitalize on your strengths more and don't have to try so hard to fit into someone else's mould. And you're not dependent on those outside critiques for a passing grade - if your child feels loved, you're good to go.

Fingers crossed! Because I already have a lullaby all picked out: Cyndi Lauper's "True Colours." Let's hope this baby likes pop music.

Week 23:



Week 24:


Week 25:

Buskerfest birthday

Despite a nagging cough, I met my Best Woman and her adorable offspring at Buskerfest after work on Friday. This was a no-brainer because a) Buskerfest is literally in front of the building I work in, and b) Friday was my Best Woman's birthday!

We all enjoyed a healthy dinner of french fries:

Then the kids tried out the stage before the first busker:


(Don't you LOVE the 80s leggings on this stylish little girl? She picked them out herself during back-to-school shopping. She also got a navy boyfriend blazer with sleeves that roll up to display striped lining. Grade 2 never looked this good back in my day!)

The first performer we saw was a woman who goes by the name of Bendy Em. And truly, that was a well-chosen moniker:


After contorting herself in various ways and creatively using two beefy looking guys from the audience to their full advantage, her final trick was to stuff her wiry little body into a tiny little box:


The second performer was not quite as entertaining, although no less wacky. His ultimate feat was to balance a running lawnmower on his face and then have audience members throw heads of lettuce into the blades:


There HAS to be a better way to make a living!!

Afterwards we saw amazing dragon-type creatures that growled their way through the crowd:


The kids were both fascinated and terrified by them.



Of course we had to have some birthday tarts and brownies, which I picked up at St. Lawrence Market earlier in the day.


We saw a bit of another show as well, but they were less memorable and their sound system kept crashing. All in all, it was a fun summer evening in the city.

Oh, and here's the 22 week picture. (I missed 21 weeks, because the Husband/Photographer was out of town!)

Getting really pregnant now!

Here's my belly at 20 weeks:



You know that lame Hollywood joke about being just a little bit pregnant? Well, I get it now. On Friday night some invisible scale tipped and I went from feeling like a fully functioning human being with a little bowling ball belly to being capital "p" Pregnant! Suddenly getting up from the couch seemed like a bit of an ordeal and after a simple stroll around our new neighbourhood in the blazing sun, I was nearly done. (I followed that up with a three-hour home inspection that involved a lot of standing. I was knocked out for the rest of the night!)

Also, my deep inny bellybutton has become very shallow. I'm not used to being able to see the bottom!

I am desperately aware that I need to be doing some physical activity beyond just walking around, but life has gotten somewhat insanely busy lately. And it's amazing how quickly a regular fitness routine goes out the window. I can't even figure out when I used to work out! I do have a prenatal dvd here, which I've done once...

I'll figure it out! But now I also need to start packing...

Welcome to our new home!

What a difference a couple of days makes! On Wednesday morning we saw a house that made us go, "Hmmmm...?" On Thursday evening we put in an offer and got a taste of negotiations. And this afternoon we did a three-hour home inspection, signed on the dotted line and bought ourselves a house.

Somebody pinch me!

After seeing lots of places in the east end of town, where several of our amazing friends live, we are staying in the west end. In the end, it was just the right house! So we are a few blocks south of Eglinton West Station and very close to my Best Woman and her family.

So, without further ado, we introduce our very first home to you:


It is a little bit boxy, but also strong and sturdy. Check out the gorgeous Japanese Maple on the front lawn:



The door was slightly ajar in this foyer shot - there isn't a huge gap at the top when it's closed!



(Did you notice the gorgeous slate on the floor? It goes right down the hallway and through the kitchen.

Living room, which is just to the left when you come in the front door:


Which is open to the dining room:


Which is open to my favourite room of all - the kitchen:


(I have big plans to make lots of yummy things in here!)

Then we turn and go back down the hall and up the stairs:






We have the master bedroom:


What will be the nursery:


And what will be the office:


(This room is actually a decent size, but I am not a very good house photographer!)

Amazingly for an old Toronto home, all of the bedrooms have closets! They aren't big closets by any stretch of the imagination, but they are closets!

Then we have the lovely bathroom, which also has fantastic slate floors:


And it houses the washer and the dryer! (I am doubly ecstatic to have my very own washer and dryer AND to have them on the second floor!! Oh, such grown up dreams!)


Put on your disco shoes for the next part of the tour, because we are heading to the basement, which looks like a set from "That '70s Show."

From a door in the hallway, just past the stairs, but before the kitchen, we come down a few stairs to the side door:


Then there's a right turn and all the way down the funky red stairs with flecks of silver:


To our orange and brown formica-tiled basement with the wood-burning fireplace:


Here's the view the other way, where you can see all the space and the door to the bathroom:



Which is very creatively decorated:


(I didn't take a picture of the shower, but there is a shower in the basement bathroom that ain't pretty, but nor is it scary!)

There are several other rooms in the basement, including the one with the water heater and furnace and stuff, which is under the stairs and then, when you take a hard left at the bottom of the stairs, there's this "kitchen":


(There's even a little table that folds up from the wall on the opposite side from this. Although describing it as a table might be going too far. It's more of a ledge...) And through the kitchen there's another door and a cold room.

Now we go outside, where I've spared you a photo of our private driveway and lovely detached garage with a paved floor, to skip to the backyard, which has lots of potential, but needs a little TLC:


And by TLC, I mean grass. We'll be pulling up these interlocking bricks next spring and laying down some sod for sure!


There are two fantastic parts about the location! The first is that we are DIRECTLY across the street from this beautiful playground:


This should come in extremely handy in the next decade!

And the second is that we are less than a 5-minute walk from Cedarvale park, which is huge fantastic park:


We saw a cricket game in progress:


And the Husband was happy to see the big dog run area for our future canine:


And here we are, the very excited new home owners! (It's too bad they haven't slapped the "sold" sign on it yet!)