Cat Skinner Club

16 Days

A Little Tin of Chocolate

I began writing this blog in 2008, fresh after a breakup from a very complicated relationship, and filled with excitement because I was about to embark on a solo vacation to Paris. Life felt pretty huge and terrifying then. I was raw with emotion, and apprehensive about what the future held for me. When I returned from my trip, I would have no place to live, and I’d be facing the realities of being single and thirty-something.

I drank Paris in, and fell deeply in love with a city that I always suspected would have a special place in my heart. Because I was on a very tight budget, I allowed myself only a few token souvenirs, mostly purchased at a well-stocked supermarket and the Parisian equivalent of Winners. One of these mementos was a tin of French drinking chocolate, so I could enjoy the delicious little ritual I had created for myself each afternoon no matter where I ended up back home in Canada.

When my new family and I combined our households, the chocolate tin came with me. I hadn’t expected the chocolate to survive, but the tin was pretty so I imagined we could use it for storage in our kitchen. French chocolate is resilient though, and to my amazement still tastes as good as it did when I first bought it almost five years ago.

On Tuesday night, A and Daddy made us a post-dinner hot chocolate and marshmallow nightcap, and all five of us sat around the table enjoying it together. As I gazed at the faces of these beautiful girls who have been one of the greatest gifts of my life thus far, I was suddenly overcome with emotion. Strolling through the aisles of that Parisian grocery store, trying to choose just the right thing to bring home, I had resigned myself to believing that children and family were a long, long way off and perhaps something that were not meant for me in Schnooville. But now I sat surrounded by my family, (a family I have chosen against all odds, and a family who freely chose me despite all of my flaws), drinking that Parisian chocolate and ready to burst with another brand new life who gets to go through each day with these wonderful people. I feel no fear about this huge milestone because my heart believes I am exactly where I should be, with the people I need most in my life.

Look defeat in the eye and love yourself even harder. Tell disappointment that you deserve better. Treat your broken heart to vacations and decadent chocolate and trust that somehow, probably in the most unpredictable way, it will all work out. If you believe that you are lovable, the love you crave will find you.

20 Days

My feet, or what I’m now calling my ‘Frodo Bagginses’.

Cervix Says…

What a unique and complex challenge this third trimester business is. Not only are the physical challenges quite remarkable, but the mind warp of hitting 37 weeks is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

Pregnancy is a great teacher for the control freak. Each morning I wake up wondering (read: hoping) that I will go into labour, and then I must push this thought to the very back of my mind so that I can function through the rest of my day. I am not really known for my patience, and there is something really humbling about realizing that nobody, not nobody can predict when this baby will decide to make his entrance.

So I am trying this “living in the moment” business, which is insanely hard for me. For much of my adult life, the kind of work I’ve chosen has me always three steps ahead of myself. With labour, once the nursery is done and the bags are packed there isn’t really much left to do but wait, and try to deal with the realities of what is happening to my body now that this little guy has dropped down into my pelvis.

Here is a list of things that I’m working on to help pass the time.

Improving my gait – Walking is supposed to be excellent for bringing labour on, so I’m trying to be active. However when I walk now, I look like George Jefferson, waddling and flapping my arms behind me. I am actively concentrating on tucking in my pelvis and finding a stride that won’t leave me winded (so that when I enter the house, I can still bellow out ‘Weezy, I’m home!”)

Naturopathy – Our midwives sent me home with my ‘birth binder’ after my last appointment. Among many other useful things were some natural tips to help prepare and encourage labour. Here’s what I’m doing, and please note NONE of this is a good idea before 37 weeks, nor am I a doctor or healthcare professional recommending you do any of this:

Red Raspberry Leaf Tea – 5-6 servings a day to help strengthen my uterine muscles and stimulate contractions

Evening Primrose Capsules – 1000 mg 2x per day to help efface my cervix

Acupressure – self administered on two specific labour-inducing points. This seems ridiculous, even to me

Pineapple – nobody anywhere has proven that this works, but people everywhere swear that it does. I am mostly just using labour as an excuse to gorge on pineapple

Hands and Knees Time – I spend 15 minutes a day with my ass up in the air in child’s pose. This is supposed to help the baby turn and settle into optimum birthing position. Cat stretches and rocking also work in the hands and knees pose. Daddy has requested I always work on this when he’s around to watch, which can lead to…

Various Oxytocin-stimulating activities (use your imagination) to help bring on contractions

Event Planning – What? Does that seem crazy to you at this very pregnant point in my life? Yeah, me too but all three of us wanted to see our families for Thanksgiving, and we had to spare ourselves all of the running around and driving. We decided to host dinner for 20 people at our place next Monday. Either the plans go smoothly and once our pre-planning is done I get to sit with my feet up surrounded by family while Mama S and Daddy do the bustling, or the baby comes and there is no party to host. In which case we’ll have a 23 pound turkey up for grabs. We’ve insisted on pot-luck to reduce the insanity, and I think it will be lovely to see everyone in our home. The real challenge will be relaxing and doing nothing because I have a very, very hard time with this (as evidenced by planning a dinner party for 20 people at 38 weeks of pregnancy) I hope they don’t mind paper plates!

‘Working’ – I’m trying to be productive with my duties for our family business. I can’t focus my brain on ANYTHING for more than ten minutes right now, (except writing, it seems) so this is actually kind of hilarious. I keep telling myself SOME work is better than NO WORK. My boss is hopefully sympathetic because when I’m not working, I’m growing his son.

Napping – Oh my god, how I love a good mid-day nap these days. One hour is all I need, and one hour is all my poor bladder will allow me. With this spotty sleep I’m experiencing, it’s really a necessary part of my daily routine so that I can make it through the rest of the day without crying, or making anyone else want to punch me.

Deep Breathing & Relaxing – At several points throughout the day I will pause and just see where my body is holding tension, and then I breathe and will those places to relax. This exercise is particularly useful through my Braxton Hicks practice contractions, and through a new phenomenon I like to call the Cervical Ninja Chop. I’m really not sure exactly what this is, but it feels as though the baby is suddenly and forcefully bashing his head into my cervix. There is no warning here, just sudden shocking pain and me doubled over the counter/shopping cart/back of the sofa etc. Fun times.

Setting Timers/Alerts/Alarms – Timers are my friends right now, because I cannot remember ANYTHING. Timers tell me when to switch the laundry loads, and when my crazy herbal tinctures are ready to drink, alerts remind me of appointments and tasks that I have to complete, alarms tell me when to wake up and pick up the children from school. I’ve even worked out a system where I must climb the stairs to pee every hour. It feels like I need to pee EVERY MOMENT OF THE DAY, and so if I wait an hour between visits, I don’t have to be disappointed when all of that climbing yields only a miserable little trickle.

Reading – I’m working my way through the last of my pregnancy books, and moving on to books about breastfeeding and early infant care. I would read other stuff, but pregnancy, breasts and babies are all I can think about, so there really isn’t much point in trying right now. The more I read about labour techniques, the more I realize that NOBODY actually knows what to do, and cannot possibly be prepared in advance for the experience of birth. There is real comfort in this – I have all of these tools and techniques, I know exactly what happens to my body at each stage of labour, but I have no idea what it is going to feel like or what my body will surprise me with and everyone else who has ever birthed a baby is in the exact same boat. When I read my birth plan, which I wrote at four months pregnant, it seems really funny to me now. My new plan is to relax as best I can, embrace what’s happening, and try to get out of the way of my body so it can do it’s thing.

Labour Play List – We’ve got two on the go; a mellow and relaxing one for during early and hard labour and then a Pushing Playlist. The Pushing Playlist may not ever make it into rotation, but it’s funny to work on. There is a lot of Zeppelin on that list because Mama S says I’ll need some good ass-kicking music by that point. Daddy and I listen to tunes while we work and yay or nay them.

And with that, I’m feeling so restless that I can no longer sit in this chair and type. Time for a stretch and round two of the Raspberry Leaf Tea. Please dear mommies of the Interwebs, share with me your secrets for not completely losing your shit waiting for baby to come!

A French Artiste Party

Our little hipster.

Our eldest daughter H wanted an artist party to celebrate her ninth birthday this year. Her actual birthday is September 11th, but because of two busy back-to-back weekends our earliest opportunity to celebrate was this past weekend. Our plans to host the event in our nearby park were foiled by the two week difference in seasonal change, and this left us faced with the reality of managing twenty-five kids in our not-so-big house. Fortunately, our amazing family came to the rescue.

We decided to up the ante a little by adding some flair to our theme and making it a French artist party, which went a long way towards pulling together food choices. Here’s how the day shook out, complete with incredible photos by Mama S.

The amazing ChaCha.

• We had Daddy’s brother (the amazing Chacha) tarp our third floor patio and create a painting studio. We stocked the studio with dollar store canvases, paintbrushes, and acrylic paints and taped more tarp to the floor.

• Chacha also created a clay studio in H&A’s bedroom. Twenty-five pounds of clay was purchased on Amazon for super cheap, and we got dollar store sculpting tools.

• Mama S and I made red, white and blue giant tissue flowers and some black and white brocade tissue flowers to hang over the dining room table and living room.

• The cake was a giant custard-filled slab cake that Mama S carved into the shape of a palette complete with blobs of icing paint.

Each guest took home one of these.

• H&A helped Daddy make the “loot” – we bought plastic palette trays from the dollar store and filled them with rainbow Skittles, M&Ms and Jelly Bellies. Then we used our shrink-wrap machine to keep it all together.

• Mama S found a great price for bulk packages of felt berets in bright primary colours on Amazon. We had one for each kid, and I insisted on completing the look with fake moustaches. The kids got to take this stuff home. Many of the kids came in “French painter” costumes too.

Little Artiste

Moustache

Painter

• Daddy’s sister (the fabulous Fui) took the girls to the park in the morning to help them blow off some pre-party crazy excitement. This helped us get all of the food prep done. Daddy’s mum fought through a head cold to help with this, and worked tirelessly afterward to help clean up the kitchen.

• Fui and Chacha basically ran the show upstairs with the kids, which was so, so appreciated!

• We served mini quiche (four different kinds), brie, goat cheese with dried cranberries, cubes of cheddar and baguette, grapes, profiteroles with chocolate drizzle, and an assortment of other pastries. The kids had either red or white grape juice in plastic wine glasses and the grown ups had the real deal

Miming

• Our dear friends Emily and Jordan agreed to dress up and make a surprise appearance as French Mimes. They were easily the highlight, and though I had to rescue them a couple of times from some over-zealous kids who were getting too physical, I think they had fun.

After the party, we recouped and recovered with family, and Mama S and Chacha did some kind of record-time clean up on H&A’s room, which looked like it had survived a mudslide. This helped ease my hormonal nerves, and got the girls into bed right on time. H said it was her best party yet, and A was a very charming co-host who enjoyed the fun and gave up the spotlight in a most gracious fashion. Score another one for the parents!

 

The Big Happy

My pregnancy app told me to have a pajama day today, and after surviving a birthday party in our smallish house with twenty-five of H’s friends and cousins yesterday, this is exactly what I did. Who am I to argue with technology?

So today consisted of me padding around in my Nick & Nora flannel pj pants (Japanese parasols) and a new maternity tank, with my one and only maternity jacket (a grey zip up hoody) to keep me cozy. I packed up all of the birthday treasures in a large basket, stored the gift bags and tissue in our storage closet downstairs and tucked the cards away for keepsakes. I spent much of the day wrapping up the last bits of my Coquettes work and doing laundry. I think with some practice I’ll be able to walk away from the Coquettes work, but the laundry will always be there.

I love doing laundry. It’s the only chore I really like, and I know this will seem weird, but I always feel really close to my family when I’m taking care of their clothes. Folding their socks and sweaters, I think about each of them and what they mean to me. I think about how much the girls are growing, and how they’ve moved through so many different sizes since I met them. I think about Mama S and how strong and brave she is, and all we’ve been through, and where we’re headed. I think about Daddy and how I never get tired of spending every day with him working, living, and dreaming. Now I’m washing lots of tiny things for baby, and that brings a new kind of bliss.

Now it’s the end of the workday, and while dinner is in the oven (shepherds pie) I’m stealing a couple of minutes to write. A Facebook friend tipped me off about a live Mumford & Sons concert as part of the iTunes Festival and so now that’s playing in the background as the girls mill about and Daddy finishes up his work. The kids are totally into the music (A is presently dancing naked, waiting for the washer to stop so she can have her shower). I love this band. Their music is so uplifting and beautiful, and it’s kind of the perfect soundtrack to this fall day. Tidying in the kitchen and glancing up to see my family all bopping their heads to the music just filled my heart suddenly and unexpectedly with floods of love.

The very best people, the people I surround myself with, are the people who make me want to be better than I am, either because they inspire me with their work or by virtue of their warm and wonderful hearts. H’s birthday party turned into a bit of a family hang out after her school friends left, and I got to spend time with some dear friends and close family, unwinding together and eating our way through the rest of the food. I feel so, so lucky to have such incredible people to surround our children with love.

This week my goal will be to focus on our family business, keep really active, and continue with the various housekeeping tasks that need tending to before baby arrives. I want to finish up the homemade baby book for Noah, and spend some time writing in various journals. Most of all, I want to relax.

30 Days

Real Labour Stories

Noah Toes

This morning I’m trolling through Facebook profiles of old friends and acquaintances that are recent mommies, and their baby photos are melting my heart. I can’t believe that I’m only a month away from meeting this amazing little being I’ve been GROWING IN MY BODY.

I used to really pride myself on the creative things I’ve accomplished in my life, but really nothing compares to making a person. For me, that was always a goal I wanted to achieve, but as I approached my mid thirties it seemed more and more like a pipe dream. I believe whole-heartedly that women everywhere can achieve great and wonderful goals without ever procreating, but to look back on darker times in my life when I really believed I would never have the chance to even try to get pregnant, I feel pretty damned grateful.

This morning at about 5:45 I awoke with my first for real, full-fledged contraction. I think it was like a super Braxton Hicks or something because I shifted positions and it eased up. There haven’t been any more since. It was unlike anything I’ve ever felt, different than cramping for sure. I felt my entire midsection give a squeeze, right down to my pubic bone. It didn’t hurt, but it did make me marvel at what the real deal might possibly be like.

I fell asleep watching ‘More Business of Being Born’ which is a follow up mini series to the Ricki Lake and Abby Epstein documentary ‘The Business of Being Born’. The particular episode I was watching featured various celebrities talking very candidly about their own birthing experiences. It was really touching and honest. I was seriously impressed with model Gisele Bundchen. She spoke of the whole thing as a very empowering, spiritual experience, and she seemed to have mastered the art of staying calm and relaxing through the birth. I figure if she (who has not been blessed with my wide birthing pelvis) can squeeze out a person so serenely, then surely so can I. My grandmother birthed twelve babies, so I’m going to believe that I’m genetically primed for this kind of work.

I am getting nervous. Not afraid, because I really do believe that I can handle whatever happens, and I’m prepared to do whatever needs to be done to bring the baby into the world safely, but I think I can say there’s some fear of the unknown setting in. I think it’s comforting to know that every single experience is unique, and that just because some people had a hell of a time, it doesn’t mean that I will. I think if I keep focusing on the spiritual and very positive elements of birth, it will help tremendously.  Everyone seems to swear by Hypnobirthing, and while I like the idea of deep relaxation, I found this book impossible to read because it’s so, so fruity.

So many of you have babies of your own. What kind of mental prep or labor coping tools did you and your partners employ?