Upper cut Upper cut

So I shaved my legs. Annoying. I guess it's better than shaving my face every day. I mean I only have to do that every now and then.
Dexter is 6 months and we're right in the midst of letting him "cry it out" at night. Up until this point, he's been getting up once a night and one of us has had to go in and just soothe him back to sleep. Anyhow, that was enough of that so we are currently on day two of letting him cry it out at night. I don't know who or what this whole Ferberizer thing is, I may have smoked weed out of one in University, all I know is that we've made the decision and we're sticking with it. The first night he cried for about an hour and 15 minutes, last night 30 minutes. I thought I would DIE when we had to do this but the wine and ear plugs are doing their job and I haven't really laid in bed bawling, like I thought I would.I wanted some valium too but apparantly you're not supposed to give that to babies.Obviously that's a joke but while we're on the topic I have an open request to science. Science, can you please figure out something harmless to give babies to make them sleep? Stop working on cloning sheep and get your shit together. Stupid science.
Here's the thing, maybe it's not that "nice" to let your baby cry in the middle of the night, but you know what else isn't nice? Having Super Nanny come to your home and make you some busted ass schedule while she tells you how incompetent you are. This baby is going to sleep for 12 hours a night, in his own bed, if it's the last thing I do.
As a new Mom, you have to quickly adapt to a brand new lifestyle. Before Dex, I had 31 years of just pretty much doing what I wanted and being amazing. Yes, it's super cool hanging out with Dex and seeing him grow, but I would be lying if I didn't say that there are times when I get a bit squirrly. It's not even that I need people to hang out with or anything, I just need to do something that has nothing to do with baby and everything to do with me. I don't think there's anything wrong with being a bit selfish. As a matter of fact, I think it's a bit good for kids, especially when you only have one. I've never been a mathematician but I have an equation: Too Much Attention = Spoiled Kid.
So I went to the gym and did this mixed martial arts class and left Dexter in the gym daycare a.k.a germ warfare. There were about 4 babies and 6 toddlers snotting around and licking everything. It was awesome. This is how you build an air tight immune system, Dexter is going to be like the bionic baby.So in this class you do a lot of kicking and punching. I was really into it and punching the shit out of an imaginary opponent. Jab , jab, jab, kick kick kick!
"HEY LADIES! CAN YOU FEEL THE BURN IN YOUR BUTT!?!?!"
My inside voice: " I can feel the jiggle in it."
"DO YOU WANT THIS?"
My inside voice: "I want plastic surgery instead"
"C'MON! I WANNA SEE YOU SWEAT!"
My inside voice: "I wanna see you die"
So there I am jumping and sweating and having a great time when I go and throw a solid right upper cut....right into my chin. I punched myself in the chin...hard. The craziest part about this whole fiasco? It's not the first time I've done it! I took a similar class a few years ago and punched myself so hard in the chin I thought I had bit my tongue off. The instructor even stopped the class. Anyhow, this self-inflicted punch wasn't so bad as the first time I did it. Hopefully next time I take this class I won't spaz out and nail myself again. I'm happy to take a class that teaches me how to kick some ass because I almost had to throw down at the Winners the other day. That's for the next blog.

Spoiler Alert: May be Offensive

The weather is getting cooler and we are rapidly approaching hairy leg season. There are pretty much two seasons in my world: smooth leg weather and stubbly leg weather. Who am I kidding, they're stubbly in the summer too. I try, but seriously, every day? Sometimes I wish I was a hippie....or German.
We're getting into fall and Dex is 6 months old and cute levels are reaching an all time high. It's out of control. It's also out of control that I only have 6 months left of maternity leave.Shit. Who's going to watch The Golden Girls at 2:30 in the afternoon now?

Dear people at TV Tropolis,
I'm sorry your ratings are suffering, I had to go back to work.
P.S (Consider showing re-runs of Small Wonder. Vikki was a robot well ahead of her time)

I was in Yorkville not long ago, just wasting time and people watching. I was pushing Dex in his stroller and realized I wasn't the only one. Yorkville is a hot spot for Mom's, baby buggy's congesting the streets, only these aren't the kind of baby buggy's that I have, or my friends have. These are the baby buggy's of the elite or just people who want super expensive baby buggy's. Now I don't dive into swimming pools of money every day so it's hard for me to wrap my head around spending that much money on something so temporary, for someone who really could care less, but I'm trying. To those who have these uber-expensive buggy's, please enlighten me...do they perform felatio? Can they make gelato? Do they play re-runs of Small Wonder? Listen, I know I sound judgemental but I'm trying my best not too because everyone can do whatever they want, with whatever funds they have,I know it's a personal choice. I just want to understand. I like spending money. I like spending $1000 or $1500 on travel, or home improvement or on a couple of sweet call girls and an 8 ball of blow, but I don't get the over-priced buggy. So anyhow, the jokes on me because as I was over analyzing the banality of expensive strollers I was too busy staring at the ladies lunching on the patio of the restaurant I passing, and walked right smack into a parking meter. Let me correct that, I ran the baby, in his stroller, right into a parking meter. Whoops. I let out a slightly hysterical laugh and took my heavily discounted Graco stroller and got the hell out of there.

Ou est la moula?

Ok, so the film festival is about to start here in Toronto and I've decided that I'm going to strap the baby in the baby bjorn and try to crash a party. What bouncer douchebag is going to turn away a woman with a baby? I'll be sure to film it.

So Will is currently on paternity leave for a couple of weeks which is awesome. His work tops him up to 80% of his salary, my company does not. That is why I steal. Anyhow, I travel to the States a lot with my work and while preggers and in the U.S, I realized how much better we have it up here compared to them. Getting a year off and paid about $1600 a month from the government is a pretty good deal. HOWEVER, it's not even remotely as good as other countries.Sweden gives 16 months full paid leave per child. In the Czech Republic, women can stay home for 3 years with every child and are supported by the state, the entire time! It's probably a bitch moving up in the corporate world as a woman in the Czech Republic, I imagine.Guess what they get in the States? 12 weeks. 12 weeks and not a dime. I wonder where they find the time to get so fat? Just kidding Americans. Please don't shoot.
Anyhow, we've spent lots of time at the cottage since Will has been off and the baby loves it. As he is a product of Will and I he's pretty white. Almost translucent. You're not supposed to put baby sunscreen on a baby until they're 6 months so I just made sure he was in the shade and wore a hat the whole time. I swear he got about 5 minutes of sun and his little arm was a bit burnt. Woops! So I've decided that sunscreen is probably better than a sunburn so now he's all oiled up with Hawaiian Tropic oil. He's getting ready for a role on The Jersey Shore. Speaking of which, can you believe Angelina and Vinny? HIOHHHHH!
Dex is almost 6 months and I think soon it'll be time for him to leave the Breast-aurant. He's sort of playing with them now and it's weirding me out so in a couple of weeks I'm going to somehow figure out how to stop breast feeding without my boobs getting engorged. There's two words I never thought I would have to put together: boobs and engorged. Isn't it so weird that we all fed off of our mother's breasts? I know I'm supposed to say it's so amazing and magical but I'm sorry, it is kinda weird. Milk comes out of my nipples. Sometimes it's a Shiraz, other times a Merlot. Speaking of which, it'll be nice to be able to have more than 1 or 2 glasses of wine. Je t'aime le vino. To be honest, I 'm just pretty proud that I was able to do it at all. In the beginning it was THE WORST but then your nipples become like horses reins (as in leather and tough) and you're good to go. Sexy eh? Until next time.

People vs. Dogs

First of all, I forgot to shave my right leg. Just realized it.

Anyhow, Dexter is a little over 5 months now and cute levels are at an all time high, I can't take it. Having a cute baby, I am often stopped by strangers in the grocery store, or drug store or somewhere, and they talk to the baby. Sure, it's friendly and I'm polite but truthfully, I'm beginning to find the whole thing a bit weird. Don't get me wrong, I like people and I have no problem talking but it's the way in which I have to communicate that is starting to weird me out. Here's the thing, I have to talk for the baby. Here's an example: "Ohhhhh, how cute. And what's your name?" Me: "His name is Dexter." "Ohhhhh, and how old are you?" Me: "He's 5 months". "Ohhhhhhhhh. What a cutie. And you crawling yet Dexter?" Me: "No he's not but he's writing Arabic and speaking Latin like a priest."
It's just that when you have a baby, you're forced to talk to people you really have no desire to. It's probably the same for people with puppies. I sound like an uppity beatch but I'm ok with that. You know who I like talking to? Crazy people. Crazy people have all sorts of interesting things to say. In fact, I was once recited a poem all about farting by a crazy person. Now if someone came up to me and Dex and said, "Hey lady with cute baby, can I recite you a poem about farting?" No hesitation. Yes. Of effing course.

Short but sweet. Next blog hear about how Dexter managed to get one sunburned arm. Whoops.

Now what did I forget?

Here's the thing about becoming a parent. Everyone says, "Oh your life changes sooo much" and "It'll never be the same" and "it's so much work" which if you don't have kids, isn't really a great sales pitch. If you've never worked a hard day in your life, well then it might seem overwhelming, but if you're not a total pussy, then it's just a nice extension of what your life already was. There is definitely one thing that's changed for me and that's how I view my parents. You suddenly realize just how much they love you and then you immediately feel like an asshole for ever being a teenager. Another thing that's changed for me is actually thinking about my own mortality. Who ever thinks of dying? Weirdo's that's who. But when you have a kid you suddenly have to think about what would happen if you, or both of you, die. Creepy right? Well I've decided that if I have to go, I want to go like a fruitfly: drowning in a glass of red wine.

Speaking of your life changing, it's not totally unreasonable for you to forget that you have a kid in the first couple of months. Or at least that's what I've convinced myself of. I forgot Dexter the other day in a moment of panic. Here's what happened.
I went to this used kids toy store to get him one of these exer-saucer thingy's. As a side bar, we have a semi-detached house in East Toronto and all of this baby shit is seriously taking up too much room, but I digress.
So I'm on the back deck cleaning this thing because it smelled like rotten cottage cheese. I had the door out to the deck open and we don't have a screen. I feel this thing whizz by me and hit the window of the door. I thought it was one of those crazy giant moths. Ever seen one of those things? They look prehistoric and what's up with the powder on their wings? I'm going to try and snort it. Anyhow, I look to see if this teradactyl like moth has flown into the house and what do I see? A freaking bird! This bird is in our living room and totally freaking out! It's flying around and hitting into the walls and the windows trying to escape. So I naturally go running out of the house screaming. I mean honestly, maybe if I lived in Avonlea I wouldn't have minded a bird flying around the living room but this is Toronto and it's a city bird with city problems and I have no desire to touch that mess. So I see my neighbors car in her driveway and knew she grew up on a farm (assuming farm people are used to catching live fowl) so I went and banged on her door. No answer. As I'm standing there waiting for her to show up I feel like I'm missing something. My cell phone? Nope, that's not it. The iPod? Nope, still not it. OH SHIT! THE BABY! Dexter was sitting in his Bumbo in the kitchen while the bird was having a spaz in the living room. Keep in mind this isn't a big house so basically Dex was in close proximity to the enemy. Shit, now I have to run back in to save the baby from what seemed like a bald eagle to my frantic imagination. I run in the house screaming,grab the baby and peek in the living room. Yup, now it's the size of a crane and it's bashing itself into the window over and over again. I run back to the neighbors front door only to realize no one is home. Eff. Am I going to have to deal with this man eating bird on my own? I spot a man two doors down doing some carpentry out on their driveway. He was a contractor renovating my neighbors house. I run up to him, baby in tow and tell him there's a bird flying around my house. Can you help? He responds, 'What kind of bird?" Holy shit! As if I know. I skipped that class on school that focused on the birds of Ontario. Unless it's been a mascot for an Ontario sports team, I'm lost. He comes into the house, goes right up to the thing (which is now seriously spazzing out) and just as easy as anything, scoops it into his hands and says to me, "It's only a sparrow". Well la-de-da Steve Irwin. I thanked him and offered him sex but he refused.
That was the first time I've forgotten I have a child but at least I didn't leave him for to long. I'm the youngest of four and when I was a baby my Mom took my older siblings to the grocery store and about 15 minutes into the drive my brother said, "Mom, where's the baby?" I was on the kitchen counter. So my Mom lit up a smoke in the car, turned around and got me. I love the 70's.

Festival and Freaks

So last time we left off with a story from Montreal from 2 weeks ago. The rest of the weekend was awesome. I have to admit, bringing Dexter (as a 4 month old) to a music festival in another province, had me a bit anxious but once we got to the venue and got all sorted out, all of my nerves went away. The music was amazing. Two days of incredible weather, company and live music was pretty much the highlight of the summer. Dexter was so cute in his big blue headphones to protect his little ears, he was like a goddamn celebrity. When Will put him in the baby bjorn to go and see Major Lazer with the guys, there were more pictures taken of Dex than of Lindsey Lohan's crotch. Hilariously, Dex fell asleep during Major Lazer. He was waaay more into Snoop Dog, probably because he's so West Coast. Anyhow, he was really good and didn't have any meltdown's until the last 2 hours of the car ride home but I was having a meltdown too. I may have spent too much time in the Holiday Inn hottub because it felt like my skin was crawling. Anyhoo, no topical diseases to speak of (this time) and the weekend was awesome. The best part about it was realizing that taking your baby or kid out of the comfort zone is always going to be ok. Even when you think it's a bit over the top, it'll always work out in the end and if you're still anxious when it's happening....drink more.
Ok, on to last week. To let you know, I do some voice work and I was lucky enough to get sent on a couple of auditions last week. Up until this point, Will had always just come with me and sat in the car with Dex because the auditions only take 15 minutes or so. Anyhow, I decided just to take him in with me and figured I would get the receptionist or someone else who was auditioning to hold him while I went in. In hindsight I probably shouldn't really leave my baby with strangers but I try to assume the best rather than the worst. So there's about 3 other women in there waiting to audition and they all go bananas over Dex because he's a baby and women are genetically bread to instantly assume their best baby voice when a baby enters the picture. Can we talk about the baby voice for a minute? We all do it and none of us realizes just how ridiculous we sound while using our baby voice because we're just caught up in the cuteness of the baby and the moment. I am going to record the way I speak to Dex just to listen to what a moron I sound like afterwards. Imagine going into a interview and introducing yourself in the voice you use to talk to you baby or niece or nephew or whatever? The same could be said for your dog voice. We just think that babies and animals need to be spoken to like someones got your balls in a vice; 3 octaves higher with a subtle hint of crazy. Anyhow, back to the audition. This one actress is really the loud one out of the group and is asking me all sorts of questions about the baby and making faces and using her baby voice which sort of sounded a bit like Liza Minelli after some Vicoden and gin. Needless to say, Dex wasn't responding to her very well. She looks up at me and says, "He's never been here before." I was a bit caught of guard and stammered, "Uhhh, no he's not. I've never brought him to an audtion before. He's definitely never been here." "No" she responds "He's never been here before." Ok. Again I say, "Yup, this is his first time at a voice audition." She shakes her head and says, "What I'm saying is he's a new soul." Ohhhhhh riggght. We were talking about reincarnation! Duhhh, how silly of me not to have first gone right to reincarnation.What a rookie conversation mistake! She's nodding her head at me like she's just figured out how to cap the oil well and I just say, "Right well ...sure." There are very few times where I'm at a loss for words but Shirley McLean here managed to stump me. Here's the thing, I think there's something to be said for reincarnation but when a wide eyed voice actress thinks she can read into your babies past lives, it's a bit funny. I didn't leave Dex with her while I auditioned.

ma ma ma muffin top ma ma muffin top (to the tune of Poker Face)

When I was pregnant I gained the appropriate amount of weight, about 30 pounds. You really can't avoid gaining weight, it has to happen, and anyone who thinks otherwise is probably stupid or a celebrity. Your uterus gets huge, your placenta weighs a ton and of course the baby. Anyhow, I didn't totally blimp but it does take a while to get your body back to it's pre-baby form. Not that mine was anything you would see on the cover of Shape, but it's nice when your belly starts to get back to normal and you can fit into your old jeans again. For me, things have been happening as they should. I still looked 5 months preggers for the first couple of weeks but of course everything starts shrinking back to normal. I still have a sweet carrot muffin top but when I stop breastfeeding, that should go away (for the most part) too. Here's the thing. Whoever created the term "muffin top" is an evil genius because it really is the best way to descibe that awful flab that so attractively overhangs your jeans. The old term, "Love Handles" wasn't nearly as suitable because it just wasn't true. If they were called "Hate Handles", then that would be ok but who the eff loves those handles? You can come up with any kind of cutesy phrase you want (more cushion for the pushin' etc..) but at the end of the day, having the "muffin top" sucks. So having said that, I have a confession to make: I still wear maternity jeans. Yup, I'm wearing them right now and I don't give a crap. I can get into my old jeans but my chocolate chip muffin top is gross and until it's gone, I'm just not into it. I bought 2 pair of maternity skinny jeans from H&M when I was pregnant. They were 60 bucks each and I"m getting my monies worth and that's that. For those who aren't familiar with the maternity jean, these ones sit at my hips and there's a tight cloth band attached to the waist, about 3 inches in height, that pulls up over your belly. For post baby it's great because it eliminated muffin top and sucks you in a bit. These jeans should just hit the mainstream. Let's all just be a bit honest with ourselves here. No one is 16 anymore and things happen to your body post 29 (male and female). I'm not saying we're old and gross after 30, just simply that things change and low rise jeans are less sexy and more of a landing pad for that bit of pooch you've developed from 11 years of drinking. Anyhow, good on those ladies who somehow avoided the muffin top post-birth. Nice genetics. I figure I'm 3/4's of the way back to pre-birth bod but to be honest, I kind of don't care. Is that bad? I mean, I like to exercise and stay active but I also like red wine and blue cheese so if I have to choose between washboard stomach and food, the fromage wins.
On to other things. We just got back from Osheaga music festival in Montreal. We went with a bunch of friends and of course Dexter who has just turned 4 months. He's so mature.
We drove to Montreal and it was a pretty easy drive for the most part. We got to town at about 8.30 Friday night and went out for dinner in Old Montreal while Dexter slept in his buggy. On our way back to the hotel, two of the guys had to pee so they ducked off while my friend Ryan and Sue and I waited on the street. We were in what appeared to be the Regent Park of Montreal with some sketchy charcters lurking around. Anyhow, out of nowhere this short potato of a woman comes right up to me doing the crack dance. You know that dance? It's kind of like the hokey pokey but more jitty because you're high on crack. She had a baseball hat on backwards and a black t-shirt that said in bold white letters, "Fuck You You Fucking Fuck". She was a real peach. She cracks her way right up to me and says in her thick with crack voice, "Can I hold your baby? I'm just really mad and if I can hold your baby that would make me feel so much better." I replied, "Of course you can! I've never wanted anything more for my baby then to be cuddled by a person who just , moments early, had been honking on the crack pipe! Please, be sure to kiss him lots, especially on the mouth!" As if. What I really said was , "NO!" really loudly. If I had adamantean claws they would have come out. Ryan just sort of chuckled because the whole thing was just a bit too ridiculous. I wasn't scared of this crackie, I've lived in big cities long enough to have become desensitized to their unpredictable ways but I didn't want her anywhere near me or my baby so I just started to move away. She says, "It's just that I don't think I can have kids so I would just like to hold yours." Big surprise, I wonder whose fault that it? I again repeat loudly "No!". I must have really been paying attention in highschool during the No Means No assembly because although I'm pretty chatty most times, this was the only word I could come out with. She moved along and I relaxed. There was a second there I thought I would either have to fight off a crack head or just run for my life because there was no way this lunatic was getting one step closer. What's the lesson here? Know your crack areas in new cities and just avoid them, especially if you have your baby in tow. The rest of the weekend was awesome, we went to Oshega Music Festival and got back yesterday. More on that later this week! I'm moving my blog to Wordpress because it's better so I'm sure you'll all lose sleep in anticipation.