...according to me

Sigh...

Hair and spaghetti stains by Derek.

not for the faint of heart

Girl's got some moves!!

buyer's remorse

On a whim, and before I could change my mind, I brought Ingrid in for the H1N1 vaccine today. I hadn't fully made up my mind but the urgency with which the media was announcing the dwindling supply made me do it. A lifetime buyer of only things that can be returned, my intention was to simply line up for Ingrid's bracelet ensuring there'd be a vaccine available for her if/when I decided to subject her to it. (Ottawa started handing out bracelets to residents to cut down on wait times. You could line up for bracelets earlier in the day, ensuring that you would be getting the vaccine later that same day. This makes no sense to me. It really doesn't cut down on the amount of time you wait. You just wait in a different line for a different reason. Brilliant.) However, upon arrival the frenetic pace inside the arena kind of pushed us along, ready or not. Before we knew it we had our bracelet and forms filled out. A quick 15 minutes later, coupled with a complete sanitization and orders to ditch-the-stroller-there-and-form-a-line-here delivered military style, Ingrid had her vaccine. All the while I was blinking back tears and thinking how the hell did I get here? Like I said, my intention was only to get the bracelet and buy myself a little more breathing room to think about it. I'm very good at the wait-and-see bit.

It all moved so swiftly and, to their credit, it was relatively organized. Still, I can only sum up my entire experience with this flingin' flangin' swine flu hoopla, from the day our doctor strongly recommended it, to this afternoon, as downright chaotic. I spent hours googling how safe it was to have the H1N1 vaccine administered so closely to the live chicken pox vaccine. I spent days debating over the merits of the vaccine with Derek, family members and pretty much anyone who would listen. I even flat out asked a stranger at Ingrid's music class yesterday what his intentions were regarding the vaccine and his 18 month old daughter. I sought out not one, not two, but threeexpert opinions from the medical field. They all told me the same thing. And still, after the third same answer I wanted to ask just one more time. I think I'm just waiting for someone to tell me what I want/need to hear - that it isn't safe to get the H1N1 so close to the varicella. But no one is telling me that. Perhaps if they could answer me with a bit more conviction than that which comes from reading about it in a manual for the first time while they are talking to me, I'd feel a lot better.

I have many regrets about the whole debacle. I instantly wished I hadn't done it. In my heart I knew I had acted too quickly.The moment I walked into the building and lined up behind a girl wearing a surgical mask I had such a foreboding sense about me. I could feel the tension rising up in my chest as I envisioned all the viruses flowing out from around the edges of that girl's mask and reaching down, finger like, to Ingrid sitting innocently in her stroller. There didn't seem to be any order at that point and the noise was so loud it became a din, having the same effect on me as when my ears pop on an airplane, and the only thing I could hear were my own thoughts. Thoughts of "where do I go?", "does she work here?", "how am I going to fit this stroller through that tiny passageway", "please don't hose down my baby with your scantily covered, disease infested breath", "am I doing the right thing?", "what the hell am I doing here???"...

Why do I think I made a wrong choice today? Most apparent to me are the physiological manifestations of stress that assaulted my body the moment I zipped up Ingrid's jacket and prepared to head out the door. I got struck with a cramp in my stomach so vicious that it made me grimace and nearly caused me to double over in pain. It was not unlike a gas pain in the tightness of it but the severity and intensity of it were truly the handiwork of stress. And, my left eye started twitching visibly and uncontrollably. It hasn't done that in a very long time and I've noticed it only happens when I'm faced with something I am really apprehensive about doing. (I think the last time was my move to Ottawa.) Those two events are like flashing emergency lights to me; an indication that something is amiss. But perhaps the most telling of them all is the realization of what the 21 day wait period before having the second half of the dose administered means. Clearly I know that 21 days equals three weeks but it just didn't click initially. I thought long and hard, read reams of information and debated it as though beating a dead horse, but I could not rationalize why the 21 day wait. Only today, after getting the shot did I clue in. I could be completely off the mark here, and frankly I wouldn't at all be surprise if I were, but the conspiracy theorist in me thinks that the 21 days or three weekwaiting period has more to do with not administering vaccines too close together. WHAT HAVE I DONE TO MY CHILD? I just had the H1N1 vaccine injected into Ingrid's flesh a mere 10 days after the varicella and now I realize perhaps I was right to worry all along???

So why then, you ask, did I do it? Quite simply, the fear got to me. The fear that Ingrid and her still-new-only-17-month-old-lungs could get really sick and God forbid be taken away from me. The wonder and concern and anxiety over contracting the virus that I was confronted with every time I thought about taking her out to a public place made living a normal life, full of normal, every day routines, very complicated. Second to that, was the ever growing paranoia I felt whenever I did take her out. Yesterday at the park I found myself less concerned about Ingrid's physical safety as she climbed, hellbent for freedom, over the slides and more concerned in making sure that that snotty nosed brat didn't get within a 10 foot radius of Ingrid. Third, a fellow mother's diatribe against the newness of the vaccine ending in "I don't want do it and find out it causes cancer 25 years from now," prompted me to think "but I want Ingrid to be alive for the next 25 years and not die from the swine flu now." And, finally, it was Derek's evident exasperation when he said "If you're worrying about those things (meaning taking her out to play groups and stores) then you should just get the vaccine."

In the end, armed with bits and pieces of incomplete information and a giant knot in my stomach, I made what I think was the responsible decision. I hope time proves it to be the right decision, as well.

I hope Ingrid comes to realize, and then never forgets, how very deeply I care about her.

------

Ingrid loves Smarties and is completely enthralled by their brightly coloured boxes so I thought giving her her very own mini Hallowe'en sized box to hold and shake during the injection would provide enough of a distraction. Watching her spill the entire box as she cried out in pain nearly broke my heart.

bits and pieces of hallowe'en

Cost of treats that we gave out = $20 

Cost of treats we bought and ate throughtout the month = too scary to calculate.

Trick-or-Treaters = 39

Houses Ingrid visited = 5

Comments on the coolness of my Martha Stewart pumpkin = 5

Favourite quote of the night = "I'll have two bags of Fuzzy Peaches and two rockets. And I'll take the last gum, too."

------

We started our Hallowe'en with a breakfast of Pumpkin Spider Pancakes and apples with sugar cinnamon. The pancakes tasted okay but were such a pain to make. Plus my picture came out craaaaappppppy. Lovin' my creepy placemats.

I planned and was really looking forward to making breadstick spiders to go with our supper but I could not find breadsticks anywhere in Ottawa.

Look how cute! I'll be trying them next year for sure.

 
 
Ingrid's second attempt at Trick-or-Treating was marginally successful. Derek did the honours again and reported that she was just scared enough. She's at the age where she's very much afraid of strangers, particularly men. She has also developed a fear of all things even remotely scary. They went to our neighbours on the left and after visiting with them and their dogs for about 15 minutes Derek had to make a pit stop back at home to calm her down. They had a very nice bag of treats done just for her, though. Very thoughtful.

Ingrid had no interest in venturing out again and did not want to get out of my arms but Derek tricked her by taking her out through the back door. She proceeded to smile at our neighbour on the right. After three more stops she'd had enough. She was so distressed that she wouldn't even let me take a picture of her with all her loot. Maybe next year.

Here she is at Barb's.

I carved my very first pumpkin last night. The way pumpkins were supposed to be carved. In 2007, Derek used a jigsaw to carve a mini pumpkin. I used a drill to do my Martha pumpkin this year. So I figured it was time to do one the more conventional way.

I like it! It was surpringly easy.

And, finally, some pictures of what the little ghosts and goblins saw tonight when they came to our door.

  
 
 

 

14 hour wait

I just spent 25 minutes sitting here with phone pressed to my ear, listening to the worst elevator music and having the "Your call is important to us" message blasted into my brain every few seconds by the lovely and uber friendly folks at Telehealth Ontario. Finally, the world's snootiest receptionist answered, asked the nature of my call and hearing it was swine related, proceeded to tell me in her most disdainful voice, that the wait time to speak to one of the nurses was 14 hours. She told me I could stay on the line FOR FOURTEEN HOURS or have a nurse call me back. "Either way, you'll have to wait the same amount of time."

Excuuuuuuse me!

Also Known As Ingrid

Last year I got my way in choosing a pink butterfly costume for Ingrid's first Hallowe'en. It was only fair that I let Derek do the choosing this year.

And so, without further ado, please say hello to my little green three-eyed monster, also known as Ingrid.

 
 
 
 

boondoggle

I have the word boondoggle stuck in my head. I have no idea what a boondoogle is or if it is even a real thing. I have no idea why it's in my head, it just is. It's driving me crazy.

Out, boondoggle. Out!

Decisions Decisions Decisions

Life is about making decisions and choices. Every day. All day long. That's all life is.

But I had no idea that there would be so many decisions and choices to be made when becoming a parent. And they're not always easy.

Making decisions for myself is hard enough but they are definitely easier than making decisions for someone else. Afterall, if you make the wrong choice the only person affected, usually, is you. But being responsible for someone else's life and knowing that every thing you do could have as much of a negative impact as a positive one is almost debilitating.

I must make about 100 decisions a day regarding Ingrid. Everything from what to feed her for breakfast, to what to dress her in, to what activities to enrol her in. While frustrating at times, I classify those types of decisions as "easy". Then there are other decisions like those we're currently facing, that can only be classified as "impossible."

Yesterday, after many many months of discussions and deliberations with Derek, after much denial of the fact that it has to happen, after wishing and hoping and praying that it wouldn't have to happen and, finally, delaying it as long as possible, Derek and I finally chose a daycare for Ingrid.

Daycare, you say? Putting Ingrid in daycare like most every other modern child in North America has caused you this much turmoil and that many sleepless nights? Why, yes, it has. It's a total no-brainer when you don't have a child of your own. But it's as though not only do you give birth to your baby but you also bare a multitide of worries, self doubt and uncertainties that you never expected and that never go away. From that moment on you no longer have any faith in your ability to do this, much less do it right. No matter how strong you think you are, no matter how prepared you think you are for the ravages motherhood will levy on your mind, body and soul, no matter how much you think you will love that little bundle of joy, you quickly realize that you are not strong, you are not prepared, and that love is just a drop in the bucket. It's that unexpected rush of crushing love for her that has swarmed me and sometimes left me incapable of all rational thought since her birth that makes the big daycare decision so unbearably difficult. I have been with Ingrid almost 24/7 since she was born so the basic idea of someone else, a virtual stranger, taking care of her is not only difficult to fathom, it's practically asinine to me.

But that decision is made, for now, at least. We'll see what happens come May 3, 2010. I have very little faith in my ability to follow through on this.

The other big decision that has been plaguing us these days is whether or not to submit Ingrid to the H1N1 (swine flu) vaccination. I am neither pro nor anti vaccines and medicinal drugs. I think if a drug or vaccine is available, necessary, safe and proven than by all means go for it. That's how I felt about drugs and epidurals during my childbirth experience and that's how I feel about all vaccinations. I opted out and against my doctor's recommendation to have Ingrid immuninzed agaisnt the Rotovirus. She was only six months old at the time, not involved in play groups and we didn't venture out much (except for that plane ride and those many hours stuck in Toronto airport last Christmas) so I didn't feel she was at much of a risk. And it was a relatively new and unused vaccine. It turned out to be the right decision for us. Or maybe it was just a lucky choice. Either way, I have no regrets about it.

Today I'm torn. I thought I had already made my decision about the H1N1 vaccine. It was simple for me. New vaccine = bad choice. Period. Now that Ottawa has been labelled "a hotbed" for the swine flu and considering the two recent deaths of Ontario children (11 year old girl and 13 year old boy, both otherwise healthy) I find myself on the fence and leaning way over.

On one side of that fence, my sensible and cautious self is screaming that this is a terriblly risky choice. It's too new. It's too scary. Ingrid is not a guinea pig. There hasn't been enough time to test it and wait for any long term side effects to come out. Every time I think having her vaccinated is the responsible choice, the little pain-in-the-ass Nervous Nellie in my head gets all antsy and makes me think "what if it causes a cancer or worse we won't know about until 20 years from now?" My doctor highly recommended it and people say it's safe. But thalidomide was safe, too. Right?  

Then again, I don't want my uncertainty to manifest itself as stupidity in the future. I don't want Ingrid to die from something that could have been prevented with a vaccine. The fear mongers almost have me convinced. The long line-ups at the clinics of all those people who obviously think it's the right decison almost have me convinced, too. If it were just about me it would be a much easier decision. But Ingrid has no voice in this right now. We are the only voice she has. It's not like chosing a religion for her. A vaccine is not something she can renounce when she's older and able to make decisions for herself.

I have no gut instinct on this one and my maternal instinct has buried its head in the sand.

Maybe I'm just thinking about it too much.

Decisions, decisions, decision...

how fatherhood changes a man

There was a time when I used to find screws and pens in the washer having fallen out of Derek's pockets. Now I find hair clips.

And I won't say that sometimes, in an effort to distract and calm his crying daughter, those clips find their way into his own, slowing disappearing and greying hair.

Full and fun weekend

The Wiggles rock! Thanks to Uncle JP we all went to see the Wiggles on Friday night. We had so much fun! It was the first time we have been out at an event together since Ingrid was born. Ingrid enjoyed it just as much as you would expect a 16 month old to. She clapped her hands and wiggled her feet. She even danced a bit. She was transfixed by the Wiggles' rendition of Twinkle Twinkle but eventually dissolved into a sleepy mess of tears. We had great seats and managed to get a few pictures but I'm not sure if it's legal to post pictures of the Wiggles here so instead I'll post this one that Derek took of an almost full house of children eagerly awaiting the show at the Scotiabank Place.

On Saturday I went to my much anticipated cake decorating class. It was a full day, 10 - 4. I got to spend the entire day by myself doing something just for fun. I learned a lot more than I did at the Michael's version of cake decorating classes.

This is the cake I decorated.

 

Clearly, it isn't perfect but I had FUN!

Cindy and Eirik came over to spend the night and take a haunted hayride at Saunders Farm. Eirik decided to stay with Ingrid and me while Cindy and Derek went on the ride. I had no interest in doing the hayride myself but after hearing about how much fun it was I am having regrets.

Here are some pictures Derek took.

Looks like a lot of fun, doesn't it? I love that first picture. What a great Hallowe'en backdrop that would make.

On Sunday, we just hung out around the house. Derek and Ingrid both got some much needed fresh air for a while.

I have always wanted to own trees that dropped lots and lots of bigh leaves. We're finally getting some of that but it'll be a few more years until all our trees get big enough to give us a lot of leaves. Raking them always looks like so much fun.

Ingrid couldn't get enough of the great outdoors and watched her chance to get more of it. After Derek answered to door to an irristible girl scout selling popcorn (she had a face and voice you just could not say no to - hence, why we ended up buying $10 worth of gourmet popcorn!) Ingrid ran out and did not want to come back in. 

She finds the pumpkins hard to resist.