typealice

Pip has started up again. My living room is filled with cowls, most of them half-complete. New ones are released every day. I’m really, really excited about this season.

One must read between the lines, or lack thereof. I know there has been a lot of silence around here. Blogging was once a release, but now when I open myself to you I open myself up to scrutiny I cannot handle so instead I say nothing. This is a wise choice. Things are neither good nor bad in my life, most of it is the same it was 2-4-6 months ago, so don’t read too much into it.

Dear Ash,

My! How things have changed these past two months! You’re turning into a Big Boy, something you’ve been talking about a lot for the past year. There have been leaps and bounds towards you gaining more independence- getting way out of being a toddler and turning into a preschooler!

First, you’ve moved out of our family bed and into your own room. This happened easily. REALLY, REALLY easily. One night at the beginning of your 33rd month I felt ready to move you out, and you went to sleep in your “Big Boy Room” without a fuss. And then we just kept at it, and you’re happy. And we’re happy. And I’m actually able to fall asleep without you beside me (with your little foot in my hand) and it’s great! It helps that you’re still sleeping through the night 95% of the time, and it’s very rare that you make your way back into our room in the middle of the night (which I always welcome, of course). We read books together, you on my lap, and then when we’re done the second one, your roll over, flip the pillow over to the cold side and we nurse.

Now, we need to talk about this nursing business, because it’s changing. It’s no longer the tool it once was- it doesn’t knock you unconscious like it used to. Actually, you rarely fall asleep on the boob anymore, so bedtime has been very difficult lately and you’ve managed to push it back until 10 and sometimes even 11pm. You blame the sun. If the sun hasn’t set yet then it must mean it’s not bedtime yet. Makes sense, but it’s hard on everyone- you don’t get enough sleep and we don’t get enough time alone. If you’re not tired enough to fall asleep then we’ve started allowing you to “read” alone in the bedroom. Some nights are better than others- you’ll read for a while and then say, “I need you” and I’ll cuddle you for a while and you’ll go to sleep, while some nights you’ll keep coming out to the office and ask what we’re doing. Some nights I’ll come into the room and you’ll be passed out with a book.

Your father and I have had enough of your runny nose, waxy ears and hearing loss, so instead of doing a long and painful elimination diet (which is hard when you’re in daycare for three days a week), we bit the bullet and had a blood test through our Naturopath and found that you had LOTS of food sensitivities. Egg, gluten, garlic, pineapple, almond, cantaloupe, chili powder and citrus. This severely impacts your (and our) diet, considering you’re a vegetarian whose main protein is from eggs, you eat a LOT of gluten, you eat a lot of almond butter rather than peanut butter, love orange juice and pineapple and cantaloupe, and garlic is in pretty much everything. We decided that in light of everything you should start eating meat, so we’ve started introducing fish and poultry to your diet- neither of which you like thus far, but are warming up to. I hope that removing all of these things from your diet fix these health issues of yours and make you feel better.

Cutting all of these elements out of your diet means that I only have one choice: we’re all done nursing. We’re going to take it slow, but I have a good feeling that you’re going to be just fine. It gives me a good excuse to actually stop (because I’m not giving up everything in my diet too), rather than to just stop without any reason. It’s all I’ve known as being a mother, and it’s all you’ve ever known too, but it’s time.

I’m very excited to say that we’re taking you out of the daycare that you’ve been in for the past year and a half and we’re moving you to a phenomenal preschool that’s got a stellar reputation. It’s going to be amazing and I really hope you like it more. It’s a not for profit organization, and they’re going to take you and your small class (eight children in total) on lots of walks and swimming and skating and there’s lots of fun education-based activities. The teachers have all been there for years and years and they just seem so much caring and close-knit. You’re starting at the beginning of August. I hope the transition is easy on you- it’s not one of your strong points.

This summer has been fun for everyone so far. On Saturdays you and your dad go fishing. Your dad’s very proud that you’re not scared anymore- and you’ll even hold the fish that you guys catch. Sometimes he even lets you release them, which means you throwing them back into the water… or onto a rock… whichever comes first.

You’re so great to have around. Your speech is improving so much, you’re getting so great at fully understanding everything that’s going around us. Your memory is astounding. You’re simply fascinating.

We love you so much, Little Bear.

Love,
Mama

We’ve finally got some answers about Ash’s suspected food sensitivities. The “Food Specific IgG Antibody Assessment” (a blood test) confirmed that he’s:

Highly reactive to:
Egg White
Egg Yolk
Garlic
Kamut
Pineapple
Rye
Spelt
Wheat Gliadin
Wheat Gluten
Whole Wheat

Moderately reactive to:
Almond
Cantaloupe
Chili Pepper
Grapefruit
Orange

This makes life difficult… to say the least.

The first thing is, is that I cannot get enough protein into that kid without egg, so his vegetarianism is out of the picture. He doesn’t like lentils and beans enough and I am not comfortable to feed him more soy than I already am (which isn’t much; he gets tofu about twice a week).

Second: a gluten AND egg AND garlic sensitivity? IT IS SUCH A PAIN IN THE AAAASSSSSS.

Third: I’m going to wean him. I can’t go egg and gluten free (for I would most certainly die) and even the trace amounts he’d get from his one or two nursing sessions per day is enough to mess up his new diet enough to cancel out all the work we’ve got to put into it. So, by the end of the month we should be all done. Crazy.

Forth: Thank god for Naturopaths, without seeing a Naturopath this never would have been solved. Every SINGLE doctor I’ve taken Ash to, from my family doctor to a Pediatrician to several allergy specialists have not taken me seriously, told me he’s too young for allergies or sensitivities, told me that some steroid cream will do the trick (starting at six months he’d break out in eczema when he – or I – had banana), rather than figuring out what was CAUSING it.

I cannot recommend Naturopaths enough. They’ve changed the way I look at food and how it effects our bodies. They look deeper into things and get at the ROOT of the issue, rather than how doctors approach health issues, which tends to be just by slapping a band-aid on it and calling it a day. Seeing a Naturopath has changed our lives, and I encourage every single person- whether you have health issues or not- to go and see one to improve your quality of living. They’re usually covered by insurance plans, in case you’re wondering. With their help and eliminating all of these stresses to his system, we’re hoping Ash will have full hearing soon and his nose will stop being runny all the time.

So far the introduction of poultry and fish has not gone so well:

Ten years ago, and through much of my twenties, if I wasn’t happy I wasn’t doing it. I made it my main perogitive to be happy, no matter what. I wouldn’t stay in a job or a city or (a little harder to follow this rule, thanks to the annoying thing that’s called LOVE) relationships if it didn’t make me happy. I was never running from anything, but rather running towards things that fulfilled me, made me feel whole, made me happy and excited.

I looked at the people who’d settled down (and in my mind, settled) as weaker than myself. And now look, lookie-loo at this, HELLO, I OWN SARAN WRAP (my own personal red flag to know that I’m staying somewhere), I own a car, a motorcycle, cutlery, a couch, things I care about and don’t want to give up. I have a job that I thoroughly enjoy, a husband that I love, a child that I couldn’t possibly love any more than I do, but something feels unsettled.

I’ve been quiet around here lately because I feel unhappy. My boss has brought up the words “identity crisis” to describe what I’m going through for months now, and I feel more and more like she might be correct. I went to a therapist today on my own for the first time in four years. I love this man. He’s in his 70s, but curls up in his arm chair and swears and gives it to me straight and has me visualize my anger (a pink ribbon, fwiw) and snaps his fingers and I literally feel lighter. He’s a Shaman, a hypnotist, a free thinker and is anti-conformist. I booked another appointment for two weeks from now and will be bringing Clive along to meet him. He’s not covered by our insurance, but he was well worth the $100 I spent talking with him today. He explained things to me that made me see the world clearly for the first time in months. He doesn’t even need to know who I am as a person, he’s been doing this long enough and I am probably textbook enough for him to take one look at me and go, “Daddy hurt her, check. Struggling with her sexuality, check. Feeling stagnant for the first time in ten years, check.” I’m not unique, my problems are not unique, but no one else I know is going through the same things that I am, and I feel alone and confused and I have the same thoughts running through my mind at any point in the day. Everything else has taken a back seat.

“Vagabond” was a title I wore proud for many, many years. I’m far removed from that now. Almost everyone I know is married, is heterosexual, has a kid and a comfortable life. My problems are complicated. More complicated than I’m willing to fully divulge here, and I don’t know how to solve them. It’s touching on every part of my life- my marriage, my job, and even though I try to hide from Ash or not get too emotional around him, he senses it- the tightness in my chest, the stale tears in my eyes- and he acts out or doesn’t want to sleep. There’s a direct and obvious correlation with how I’m feeling and how he’s acting. It’s hard on everyone.

I don’t know who I am anymore. My therapist today told me that the universe sucks us in the right direction, and the more we fight it the worse we feel. He says we all know what path is right for us, we just have to accept it. Square peg in a round hole and all of that. If you’re unhappy, you’re not going in the right direction.

I don’t know what it means for me, but I always said the worst reason to not do something is because you’re scared. There’s more at stake than ever.

I’m on my third IUD in the past two years. I started with Mirena, but because I was (and still am) nursing, I didn’t like the idea of taking anything hormonal regardless of studies that said it was safe. I also had it removed because Clive and I thought it might be a good time to get pregnant again (we tried for a month before I changed my mind completely). The Nova T was inserted last July, and causes me to have nine-day periods that are totally miserable. (TMI alert: yesterday I filled my 1oz Diva Cup in an HOUR, which means my period is incredibly heavy, to boot. Luckily, it’s not like that for the entire nine days.)

Regardless of the side effects, IUDs are still my preferred method of birth control. So easy and inexpensive.

—

My potted garden is doing well. My arugula babies are tasty. I harvested a lot of spinach and even an accidental beet from my garden last week (I put it in there to compost it after using it to dye easter eggs, but instead it grew!), but Clive came along too quickly and without me knowing, threw everything into the compost instead of the fridge. Sigh.

I’m going to have more cherry tomatoes than I know what to do with, and plan to research how to make sun dried tomatoes (thanks to Ashley for that idea!). All of them were started from seed and are doing incredibly well. My whole back stoop is full of tomato plants. I’m glad it’s warm enough to put them outside. If it’s warm enough to put them outside, it means IT’S WARM OUTSIDE. Eee! Summer!

—

My brother and his girlfriend had their baby on May 29. I haven’t seen this proud of a dad since Ash was born and Clive sobbed into my ear. My brother is glowing. It’s such a nice thing to witness. I see new, proud parents every single day, but it’s different when it’s your own flesh and blood.

—

I somehow got into watching Glee, and I have to admit I didn’t really get it until watching the Gaga episode and then madly fell in love with the series. Tomorrow is the season finale. So sad! The only thing that’s cheering me up is old episodes of Six Feet Under, the new season of So You Think You Can Dance and now! Big Brother UK! The last season ever! I know I don’t have many UK readers, but AHHHHHHHH! Aren’t you so excited?! I love this series. It kicks BB US’s ass. Seriously, download that shit.

—

I have started cutting fabric again for the new fall line of Pip cowls. Three short months left before it all starts again. I have lots of plans for cowl designs. No ideas yet for rebranding. Please! Tell me your ideas!

I went to a hairdresser I’d never been to before, one my friend goes to. I trusted this hairdresser because my friend has an intentional mullet and it looks HOT. I figure anyone who gives someone a mullet is willing to take chances.

This is what I ended up with. It’s incredibly different, it’s scary, and I don’t like it. Dear.

Thank god my hair grows fast!

My garden is underway! I planted three varieties of cherry tomatoes and peas about six weeks ago and they’re all doing very well. I have about two dozen tomato plants inside (does anyone have any idea what to do with this many cherry tomatoes?) and seven pea plants outside in my one raised bed.

Urban gardening is difficult, especially when the only part of my rental property that isn’t pavement is covered with grout weed, which takes over every square inch of soil and “normal” plants are fighting a losing battle against it, so I don’t even try.

I read about vertical gardening online and in Grow Organic, the best Nova Scotian gardening book I’ve ever seen, and loved the idea of thinking outside the box for my complicated space. I planned on hanging my tomato plants upside down, and then I read a great little article about planting in a shoe organizer, and thought what a perfect idea it was. I have a deck with a railing that gets a lot of sun that I could hang it off of.

This year the majority of my seeds were Heritage Seeds from Annapolis Seeds in Nova Scotia, a small organic seed company run by an 18 year old guy. From him I purchased my beans, peas, tomatoes, arugula, lettuce, basil and cilantro. Last week, Ash and I spent a couple of sunny hours outside filling up the pockets with soil from a local company called Halifax Seed, and planting and then watering.

This is what my little urban garden looked like just after planting. My arugula has already sprouted and I’m looking forward to seeing this full of green in the next couple of months!

Dear Ash:

The past couple of months have been a blur. A stressful blur full of “what? huh? pardon? whadyousay?” You are having some serious issues being able to hear, especially when there’s background noise like when you’re in the car or the bathtub. It was noticeable a couple of months ago, but it seems to be getting worse by the day and it’s scary. Your father and I have taken you to two doctors and are still waiting to be scheduled in to see a specialist. We’re both hoping it’s nothing serious, possibly brought on by an undiagnosed food sensitivity causing some fluid buildup in your ears, but we’re scared. Very, very scared.

I’ll say key words when I’m near you, things like, “Ash do you want some candy?” and I have to raise my voice in order for you to be able to hear me. It’s not like I’m whispering, it’s not like you’re far away- we’ll be beside each other and I’ll say it at a normal volume, and there’s absolutely no response from you at all. No acknowledgment that I just offered you candy, not a glance my way, not a “huh? wha?” from you, nothing.

Please be okay.

You’ve gained a lot of fine motor control over the past couple of months and have even started drawing- ACTUAL DRAWINGS! These are the first two recognizable things you ever drew: The first is a copy of my stick person (you added on another set of arms) and then a pair of boobs. We have your father to thank for that one…

Then, shortly after you drew these pictures you drew on the glass door a “person.” How cool! You did it all by yourself!

I have some big news. It’s taken more than 2.5 years, but you’re finally, FINALLLLY SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT! All it took was for me to stop nursing at night… who knew? Yes, the night weaning process was slightly brutal and took too long, but I don’t look back at it with any ill feelings, even though you certainly had a hard time with it at first, and now it’s over and done with and it’s lovely. And we sleep better than ever. I don’t regret nursing on demand for all of those years, it felt right at the time and I stopped when I was tired of it. Also, for the record, I don’t feel ANY more well-rested now that I’m sleeping a solid seven or eight hours rather than being woken up every 1.5-2 hours for a quick nurse.

Nursing isn’t the cure-all like it used to be, though. It no longer puts you to sleep at night (though it does for your naps), and so I think it may be soon time to stop completely. I feel like it’s time (though I have been saying that for months now!).

It’s spring here now, and we’ve been planting in the garden and you’ve been very helpful with watering and watching the plants grow. I am excited for the summer so that we can go swimming and play outside more. You’re very good on your two-wheeler bicycle (with training wheels).

Your father and I love you so much. We love to see you grow and learn and mimic us (the other night we noticed that when I’d lift up the bun on my burger you’d do exactly the same thing seconds after looking at me do it… small things like that). I love to see you learn to read. I love to hear you talk about getting older, “on my next birthday, when I’m THREE, I’m going to get Bill and Ben, Percy, blue Sally and JAMES!!”

You never cease to amaze me, you’re the light in every single one of my days. I love you so much.

Love,
Mama

My Mother’s Day was spent on my motorcycle! My GLORIOUS, WONDERFUL motorcycle. I’m totally and fully addicted. I took the course last weekend, easily passed the test and have my license. Today three friends and I took a (cold, freezing) ride to Peggy’s Cove, which was my longest time on the bike and was the fastest I’ve ever ridden. I held all my stress of the drive in my upper back and now I HURT. On the ride home it was a bit rainy and the wetness went right through my pants and underwear. I felt like I could have gone for another six hours though, it was SO MUCH FUN.