Word up, Dude: The little man speaks

Watching Scooby Do with a teething little man yesterday morning.  Just up from his nap, he was grumpy and leaning into me, with one wary eye at the TV screen.  Scooby Do scrambles into frame and Ethan exclaims, 'Oh dude!'.

tubby time is a favourite time for the word 'duck'

And so recent news from the mamatastic world is words.  We realise now how much Thom uses 'oh dude' and exclamation for exciting events.  Could be worse, and I suppose we have taken it as a warning to initiate language clean up procedures.  

Some days he seems to pick up and throw back every one syllable word he hears.  Shoe, duck, this, rock, bear.  He also seems to store some away, like a secretive sponge, to use later.  

And then there are all the actions he copies.  When I'm in the kitchen, he likes to get into the cupboards with the pots and pans.  He pretends to stir and taste, just like a proper chef.

copying mama's antics at CrossFit

The other day, he seemed really hungry.  He had double lunch portions at nursery and later ate all his dinner and some of mine.  After story time, I asked him if he wanted a biscuit.  He peeked up and said, 'Cake!' (We had been given some lovely cake the week before and he set about the house in a knee-shuffle, cake in hand, chanting 'cake, cake, cake, cake', leaving a trail of crumbs behind).  

I said, 'How about biscuit?'

'Bis-cake!' he said, beaming with anticipation.  And then, something happened that I am going to claim as a first sentence.

'Peas, bis-cake!' he pleaded, making the baby-sign for 'please'.  How could I resist?  He was given a whole shortbread, when normally I would give half, just because it was good moment.  By the time we reached cupboard where the biscuits are kept, he was using two hands to ask for the biscuit.

'Mmmm, cake!'

Dad was also excited to hear about the bis-cake.  The next day I was in London seeing clients all day, leaving Dad to see just what a big talker his little man had become.  I noticed that all but one bis-cake was gone when I returned.  

With hope, odds don't matter - one mum's amazing story of overcoming against all odds

Some time ago, I posted Heather Von St James' story of surviving mesothelioma.  Mesothelioma is an aggressive cancer related to asbestos exposure.  Heather was a new mum, with a newborn, and had to battle this disease along with all the pressures that a new mum also has to tackle.  She was given a grim diagnosis and there was little expectation that she would be able to live long enough to be a mother to your new baby.  

But Heather did what strong women do.  She took on the impossible challenge ahead of her and found strength inside that exceeded everyone's expectations.  We all could use inspiration to find our own inner strength, so have a look at this brief video about Heather's journey.       

Better than average baby days

I'm in a happy place. For months it seems I've had cold hands and feet. Now suddenly, the sun is shinning and the world is waking up. I love the warmer weather and the older I get the more I consider seriously the notion of moving somewhere the weather is more like this all the time.

As I write, I am in the well placed corner of the decking, where the sun's heat seems to collect. iPad in hand and baby monitor clipped to my bikini. Clothes at the ready because with just a step out of my personal corner of paradise I'm met with a breeze that feels like the last bits of winter are still clearing away. Plus, when Ethan peeps awake it'll be a quick transition from carefree sun goddess to mum-of-the-sandpit.

The sandpit resides in my paradise corner, warm and sheltered for when Ethan indulges in his new favourite thing, SAND! When Thom and I first moved into the house, we wondered how we could get rid of it. The plastic box didn't match our backyard vibe. Kinda clashed with the garden candles and fairy lights against the long, bbq scented evenings with cold glasses of Chardonnay. Now, not only does it completely coordinate with our current decorating scheme of primary colours and plastic, but also our previous laziness has become Ethan's greatest source of fun.

It has been a happy time watching him fall in love with the outdoors as the weather warms. Suddenly, it seems for him, there is bigger world beyond the doors of the house and he's eager to get into it.

He approached the sand pit with his characteristic cautiousness, gently feeling the sand between his fingers and looking over the shoulder all the while to check with us. His boldness grew to climbing in, filling containers, emptying as much sand out as he could, rubbing a little on his cheeks and especially covering mum in piles and piles of sand.

We make an afternoon of it when the weather permits, like today, bringing out with us snacks and drinks, sunscreen and blankets. He crams slightly sandy tomatoes and strawberries in his mouth, while I fight a losing battle of trying to keep the sand out of his eye, ears and nose. He cries when we take him inside for dinner and often looks out the window, pointing and speaking to us with words we don't yet understand. So I park his highchair by the open kitchen door so he can hear the birds and watch the flowers while he eats his dinner. And with that he is content. Sunshine just makes for better than average days all 'round.

Reflections on Sweat and Sequins: The Miami Pro

It seems like a long time ago now that my friend, Aga, and I first spoke about doing a body building bikini competition.  For such a long time, it was something in the future.  Now that it's over the feeling is surreal.

I think we both needed a goal.  For our own reasons, something to work towards and challenge us.  I was still trying to shift baby weight and had just been introduced to what would become a consuming passion, CrossFit.  It seemed like something to keep me training, eating right and on track.  And it was a strange kind of challenge.  A kind of slow, daily grind of a challenge to persist in the workouts, the dietary commitments and stay focused on this date in the future when it would hopefully all come together in a brief stroll across a stage.

Sunday was the day.  The evening before, Aga and I met up at hotel near the arena, went to be covered in very brown tan and tried to keep each other calm.  By 11 am the next day, we were make-up-ed, hair-sprayed and waiting to be registered.  There were over 200 other toned and tanned people there.  After we were given our numbers, all 200 of us clambered for some space backstage to prepare and settle in for the inevitable hours of waiting.  



Backstage was a strange world.  Amongst the splashes of fake tan still  being applied, competitors did press ups, practised poses and texted their friends in the audience.  Aga and I tried to relax, but I think was probably just gawking at all the muscles, glitter and chaos.  Groups of women passed around bottles of Jack Daniels and wine.  Other guys and girls acted like they were on something different - chattering away like spacey energizer bunnies and not making much sense.  Some very large moody muscle men glowered in the corner, spreading their giant quads across the tiny sofas, leaving no room for anyone else to perch.  People planned their McDonalds orders for the way home or pre-ordered pizzas to be delivered when the show ended.  Though it sounds naive of us, this was not the fitness wonderland Aga and I had imagined.

But, none the less, we were there.  We got our abs and we were feeling fitter than we ever have before.  That was all we wanted, I suppose.  The pageantry of the day was just like a giant tribute to our hard work.  

Then somehow, there I was at the edge of the stage, in a bikini that barely had me covered, waiting to walk out and face the crowd.  I was a bag of nerves and it showed.  But I did it.  Aga did, too.  Neither of us have any shiny trophies to show for it, but it certainly is an experience I am glad to have had.

The next day, and now, there's an emptiness without the goal that loomed over me for so long.  In some ways, I find myself being surprised that I am the same.  Getting the bikini competition hasn't changed my life. I am still the same person, with the same problems and the same insecurities as before.  Monday morning, I woke up to the 6am baby-alarm-clock and got on with the day.  What it has given me is proof that I can do what I put my mind to; I can overcome the things that will inevitably get in the way and, damn it, I can do it.  The question is, what next?

Family fun and paleo shakes

A fab little suggestion for healthy, family fun this weekend from Kendra Thornton, worldwide traveller, writer and mom:

Shamrock Shake – A Fabulous Treat to Share with your Family this St. Patrick’s Day!

There's nothing like a vacation to relax the mind while you recharge the senses.  I stayed at the magnificent Fontainebleau on Collins Avenue, amongst some of the top hotels in Miami, and relished my ocean front view. Sunbathing, shopping and of course, eating and drinking beautiful things was renewing me.  

I love trying new flavors when I travel, and the tropical trips always reveal astonishing surprises.  One of my favorite things that I tasted was a pale green shake advertised as healthy.  It was creamy, light, rich and refreshing all at once – reminiscent of the ice cream based Shamrock Shakes we all know, but much more depth of flavor.  I had to discover the recipe so that I could bring it back home to share with my friends and family in Chicago.


Miami bodies are famously fit.  So how could the locals be drinking shakes and still get into their tiny swimsuits?  I was impressed to discover the shake was a “Paleo” recipe, with no dairy, and only the very best super-foods the earth has to offer.  The recipe for this shake is filled with healthy rich flavors and can be easily adapted to any palate or preference.

For your very own “Signature Shamrock Shake - Healthy, Paleo Version” gather the following ingredients:

-1 can coconut milk (you could substitute 1 ¼ cups of any other type of milk here – I especially like almond milk)
-1 ripe avocado, peeled and seed removed
-2 ½ – 3 Tablespoons of pure raw honey (or other sweetener of your choice)
-1 cup of ice
-1 Tablespoon pure vanilla extract
-1 teaspoon pure peppermint extract

(This recipe yields about 4 cups)

Directions:

Put all of these ingredients into the blender and blend until smooth.  Garnish with a coconut wedge, mint sprig or tiny tropical umbrella.  Enjoy!

The pale green color from the avocado is a decadent and natural treat, but if you would like a more festive dark green color, simply add a few drops of green food coloring.  Your friends will be transported to their own ocean front haven while enjoying the benefits of the Paleo health food trend. Enjoy and Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Busy Days and Babe Watching

Wednesdays. Usually Wednesdays mean for me, other than the usual early start courtesy of the baby-body-clock, doing some personal training client at CrossFit before dashing home, changing quicker than superman and sprinting to RhymeTime at the library with the Wriggly Man.

It's a busy, hustle bustle morning, but by the to,e we've claimed our place among the floor space filled with the herd of children, babies and mums, the manic pace seems worth it. RhymeTime, a short interlude of songs for kids at the library. Free, fun and under 30 min. Perfect for a little outing for the mum/mom and the not-so-baby-anymore.

Ethan lights up as soon he arrives. Songs, books, people to stare at. All his favourite things. He gets up on his knees and does a little dance, arms flinging wildly, and makes a screechy happy noise. It just says, "Lets rock,"!

He has his favourite tunes. 'Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes' is always a winner, but as he begins to notice all the little actions that go with each song, he is finding new ones to dance for.

He also loves checking out the other children. He watches them walk and toddle with such fascination, open mouthed amazement. He looks at the little ones, the newborns, with wonder and a little nervousness. I start to think that really it would be nice sometimes to be able to do the same. To be able to look brazenly at people that interest me, without shame or fear of judgement.

Instead, all us sensible adults are casting sideways glances at each other. Our process of figuring out if we are friends or not seems more complicated, but really it just takes longer. I notice myself looking around and doing a little comparison, just like Ethan. I marvel at the mums who seem to be juggling about 3 kids, and looking serene. I look at the new mums, with the tiny bundles and get lost thinking of all the ways life changes so quickly.

Doubtlessly, others are looking at me and understandably coming to conclusions. I have just sprayed my sweaty body with a little nice smelling stuff, crammed my tangled hair into a bun and added a splash of mascara while stuffing a chicken breast and broccoli into my face. I could not blame them for thinking that I was a sloppy, scatty lady.

Yet, even with the broccoli in my teeth, I have made as many friends as Ethan at the RhymeTime. Lovely little world where we can all just grab a quick burst of quality time with the kids among what must be crazy-busy days for all of us.

tantrums

Tantrums.  The truth is, we all have 'em.  Its just at some ages, they are louder and we are less apologetic about them.  Ethan has discovered the power of his own voice and is practising exerting his will when he can.    He is super sweet about 95% of the time, but the tantrums are becoming a part of daily life.

His Opa and Oma (my parents) have been visiting over the past week, and Ethan has become used to the attention.  His favourite thing - Oma's iPad.  So much so, that he expects to be able to have peek at it whenever he sees it in use.  At first, really cute.  His little techno-fingers seem to be find new ways of getting things done on the touchscreen that our adult fingers can't figure out how to do.

But then there are times when an email has to be sent, or his fingers are covered in mashed banana and not very iPad friendly.  We have witnessed some amazing displays of anger and will when we try to keep him from tapping his way into Elmo's world on the gizmo.  Back arches, mouth wide in full scream, face red with anger.  Wow.

It easy to see how parents get tempted into giving in and setting patterns that become cemented.  He seems to have suddenly arrived at a stage where he thinks he can decide to do whatever he wants and there's nothing we should do to get in his way.  But then again, maybe that's childhood generally.  I'll ask the parents, but I imagine that these stages just keep cropping up and the ways we throw our weight about to get what we want changes.

Possibly even beyond childhood.  Adult tantrums, of sorts.  I can think of times when Thom doesn't do what I'd like and I exert my will by childish means like silence and strops.  I might have learned to control my desire to scream and cry, but not  getting what you want still burns.

So I try to be compassionate while he loses it, appreciating that we all hate to be kept from what we want.  His little will is his personality and has to be loved along with the sweet sides that are thankfully far more frequent.