Come ON!

Can you believe I get to cuddle this cute thing every day!?

Nine lives

This past weekend it didn't look like I'd have good news to share, but I'm very happy to report that Daphne is doing okay.

For the moment.

I recognize that her condition doesn't have a happy ending, but for now she's eating and keeping it down. She's pestering us for cuddles and generally acting like nothing is wrong.

We'll take it, knowing that we can't hold off our goodbyes forever.

Thanks to all of you who reached out and sent love and good thoughts. So appreciated!

Schmaf

Our kitty is not well.

Once corpulent and voracious, we noticed just over a month ago that she was suddenly far skinnier than she'd ever been. Frankly, she hadn't been getting quite as much attention as she normally got. Our focus was divided on account of the tiny human being we suddenly had hanging around. So each of us thought the other had been feeding her, which explained why her bowl was never empty. (She used to empty that bowl very, very quickly and then pester us until the next meal.) There were also several, ahem, loose bowel movements to contend with.

Off we went to the vet, who confirmed what we already knew: serious weight loss. What we didn't know was why. We wondered if she was having trouble adjusting to the new member of the family? But she'd been incredibly respectful of Vivi since we brought her home from the hospital, never showing any signs of aggression. (And those of you who know her, know she can get her growl on if she doesn't like you.)

The vet kept her overnight and ran all sorts of tests and took some x-rays. Conclusion: healthy, aging cat. The vague beginnings of kidney disease, which is apparently very common, but nothing to be concerned about yet. She suggested switching her diet to a geriatric plan.

Done and done.

And then the vomiting started. At first we chalked it up to some of the new food, so we cut that out right away. But still, every few days we'd find another mess. Our carpet was starting to look patterned. Otherwise, however, she was acting perfectly normal. Jumping up on the couch to cuddle with us. Clamoring for her nighttime treat. Meowing up a storm.

But a month later, we couldn't deny that things weren't getting better. Plus, the diarrhea was back.

So we returned to the vet, who found she'd lost even more weight and reran some tests, to see if the kidney disease had suddenly rapidly progressed. Nope. She armed us with some meds - antacids in case her stomach is upset and something to firm up her stools. We're only a couple of days in, but it's not looking good.

She'll be 15 in May. I've had her since she was six months old. If you're a fan of Pullman's Dark Materials trilogy, she's my demon. But how far do you go?

In the wee small hours

Violet is a very easy baby.

Except when she isn't.

For quite a while she struggled with really bad - wait for it! - gas. Not bad like she could clear a room. But bad like she had a lot of trouble getting it out. And we all know how it feels to have gas trapped inside us. It's not good. It makes the best of us out of sorts.

So she was wearing her cranky pants pretty much every day, until the blessed moment when she would transform into Princess Thunderbum. (That's Princess Cupcake Bumbleberry Thunderbum to you!) Then the happy baby would emerge and we'd all get along until the next bout hit.

We talked to the doctor about it and she said it was possible that it was something I was eating, but that it was most likely just her immature system trying to catch up. So we waited it out, because some days were better than others and the magical three-month-mark was quickly approaching.

And suddenly, so much better! Which is why I was surprised the other morning when she was clearly in distress after I fed her just before dawn. Normally night feedings are a cinch with her. She goes right back to sleep. But on this morning she was too busy wailing to revisit dreamland.

So I strapped on the Baby Bjorn.

Seriously, the hand-me-down carrier has been a lifesaver for us. It calms her down - and often puts her to sleep - 99% of the time. It also frees up our hands and saves our biceps.

But I was tired. And - I'm not going to lie - I had a moment of annoyance that I had to do more than just feed her, change her and swaddle her before I got to go back to my own warm bed. Until I looked down at this:


Suddenly I realized how lucky I am that I can fix her problems so easily at this point. That there will come a day when I won't be able to fix what ails her just by strapping her to my chest and walking her around the house. And that that day will come along sooner rather than later.

One of my biggest challenges as a mom is to do something I have never been good at. The very thing that made me such a bad actor.

I have to be in the moment.

I can't think about the laundry that isn't getting done because I'm too busy watching her on her play mat. I have to look past the unpacked boxes when I wheel the stroller outside to go for a walk. And when the two of us are up in the middle of the night, I have to remember that these intimate moments together, when it seems like we're the only two people in the world, are fleeting and special and worth a whole lot more than a few extra hours of sleep.

In her own little corner

We moved into our first home at the end of October, when I was already very pregnant and not really motivated to do anything.

Except maybe bake cookies.

So I could eat them.

But I did experience some of the nesting instinct that they promise will propel you as you head for the finish line. I channelled all of it into the nursery. So, while the rest of our house remains in that sad transition state of having stuff in roughly the right place, but none of the finishing touches added, Vivi's room looks pretty good.



It's hard to tell from the photos, but the walls are a nice soft gray. The animal prints are by Sharon Montrose.


That's the Gryffindor scarf I got at the opening of The Wizarding World of Harry Potter when I was a couple months pregnant.


The change station. (You can tell who was getting a little tired with my photo shoot...) The Husband picked up the picture at the Fan Expo here in town last year. It's called "Grow" and the artist wrote a little message to our unborn child on the back. We had it framed so you can still turn it over and read the note.

The Husband also bought the poppy wall decals, this time as a Valentine's Day present for Vivi. Even though her official moniker is the name of a different flower, when I was pregnant we referred to the baby as Poppy. It came from one of those emails that tell you how big the fetus is. The first one said she was the size of a poppyseed, so Poppy stuck. She loves to look at them when we change her. We need to also add something for her to gaze at on the underside of the shelf. Any suggestions?


Our amazing "Star Wars" figures were a major labour of love by one of our dearest friends and her family. (The friend that was here to take me to the hospital when my water broke and the Husband was out of town!) They're also one-of-a-kind treasures, so we put them up nice and high. Vivi will only be allowed to admire them for many, many years to come.

The shelf that they're on was a gift from the Husband's mom to him several years ago. It's such a perfect little perch for a children's room. And the lovely sentiment on the wall was a gfit from my mom to Vivi when I first announced my pregnancy.


Two more gifts from the Husband's mom. The lamp turns as it warms up and we can watch the geese fly.


Our good friend Nipples the Cat! Also a piggy bank from her auntie on the Husband's side (There's money in there!) and some awesome books for future reading from the great women in my little book club.

And speaking of books...




We've been lucky to receive all sorts of great books for Violet, both new and secondhand. The best part is that she will already sit and look at them with me! I hope this is a sign that she'll love them as much as both the Husband and I do. (Although I'm not sure how many more books our home can hold!)


More wonderful gifts! The cute rubber ducky doubles as a bath water thermometer and the vintage blocks were a thrift store find from a lady with a discerning eye.


Just a few of Violet's growing shoe collection! She is a girl, after all. Funny thing is, I cannot get any of them to actually stay on her feet yet, so she's never worn them out of the house. I don't want to lose one and break up a set!

And every nursery needs a big comfy chair for reading and rocking.

The pillow was a gift I gave the Husband a couple years ago. I'm not sure it will stay in here once we get the office put together, but it works for now. And the adorable little doll is another fantastic gift from a far away friend.


I get the feeling that Vivi likes her little space!

How Violet got her name

When the husband and I started dating, I brought up the topic of marriage and children pretty quickly. I ignored every bit of dating advice that tells women to dance around such issues for fear they will "scare the guy away" and cut to the chase. Because life is too short to invest time in something that isn't going where you want to go, right? Besides, if he wasn't the guy for me, he would have run for the hills. Instead he stayed. And eventually we got married and now we have a child.

At some point, long before we got married, we started talking about kid's names. Generally it did not go well. We both had strong negative reactions to each other's suggestions. I found his choices too run-of-the-mill and he found mine too out there.

But one day, during a visit with his mom, she told us about one of her aunts. A woman who left the small Ontario town she called home at just 16 years old and made her way alone to Detroit. There she became a dressmaker and eventually ventured out to Los Angeles where she opened a dress shop. She even made a dress for Bette Davis.

She also had a crush on Bing Crosby, who was a big bridge player (who knew?), so she taught herself to play bridge and went on the tournament circuit, hoping to meet him. Sadly, it wasn't to be.

My Mother-in-Law recently told us that her aunt would send home a box of clothes every year, knowing that money was tight. In particular she remembers a white angora sweater and a gold necklace with a leaf pattern, which she wore for a school concert.

And while this aunt married, she never had children of her own, so when she passed away she left money to all of her 13 nieces and nephews. The money my Mother-in-Law received allowed her to buy the land on Georgian Bay where my Husband grew up and where she still lives today.

Her aunt's name was Violet.

From that time on, we always referred to our future child as Violet. And while we discussed other girl's names when I was pregnant, we both knew that it was already a done deal. (If a boy had arrived, we were much less prepared!)

So when they lifted her up so I could see her and said, "It's a girl," I didn't hesitate. "It's Violet!" I said. "Violet is here!" And so she was.


We call her Vivi, since I'm not that crazy about Vi. And her middle name is my last name, since we didn't want to hyphenate, but I wanted her to have a part of me. It all suits her.

I hope she likes it. And I hope she has the adventurous spirit and determination of her namesake.

From the land of mommyhood

Remember when I used to blog? And bathe regularly? And exercise? And wear clothes that didn't have breast milk/spit-up on them?

Me neither.

I really miss blogging. (Also bathing and having some sort of muscle tone.) And I have grand plans to write a lengthy blog with the story of the Girl's birth. (It ranks right up there with actually finishing unpacking our house and recycling the wine bottles that are sitting on our kitchen floor from the housewarming/baby shower that took place here back in November.) Instead I spend a lot of time feeding and cuddling this:


And when I'm not doing either of those things, I take pictures of her. And then coo over pictures of her, even though the real thing is right beside me.

But soon, I will get my head above water and find time to blog again! In the meantime: