I swear I only ate one of these sausages.

On Monday I took a much-needed mental health day and headed to Hamilton to hang with my mom. It was just what I needed, and I think it ought to be a monthly occurrence.

I had to face the onslaught of commuters at Union Station, which for a quasi-hermit like myself was quite an ordeal. I was at the station early, so I decided to satisfy my pregnancy-induced need for elevensies (a second breakfast that has to happen by 11 am, a la The Hobbit) and I foraged the packed station for sustenance.I learned that Cinnabon is now making breakfast sandwiches. Not any kind of remotely nutritious breakfast sandwich of course. It’s a piece of “sausage” wrapped in a Cinnabon. Gag.

In recent days I was shocked to discover that I only require 300 additional calories per day at this point in my pregnancy. That’s the equivalent of a cup of plain yogurt and a piece of toast with margarine. This theory must have been developed by a man who has no idea what it feels like to want poutine so badly you could punch someone. If my body only needs that wee bit of food, why do I want to eat ALL OF THE TIME?

I’m committed to not porking out completely in this pregnancy, and I’m trying to keep active and make smarter food choices. I thought it would be very clever to have a Jugo Juice for my second breakfast, which would surely be better than the BLT on a bagel that I was actually craving, and would leave room for the lunch feast I’ve been dreaming of (more on that later). I chose their most coconutty blend, and then headed outside to wait for the express bus to the Hammer.  There I realized that my ‘healthy’ choice actually contained 350 calories! Fortunately, pregnancy has made me clumsier than ever (not even sure how that’s possible) so after getting about a quarter of the way through my juice, I promptly dumped it on the ground trying to rifle through my purse for god knows what. I was spared the extra calories, but then I had to deal with being swarmed by pigeons.

I tucked into a book on the bus, and within minutes passed out cold. One of my other pregnant symptoms seems to be narcolepsy.  The ride went extremely quickly this way and by the time we reached our destination I had to pee so bad, I almost jumped down the stairs and ran into the station. The bathrooms were blessedly empty and clean, and all was well until I dropped my purse into the sink under running water while trying to wash my hands. My phone was in my jacket pocket because I’m smart like that.

Mom met me at the station and we headed up “the mountain” (this is what Hamiltonians call the tiny Niagara escarpment) to our first shopping destination. Here’s a secret that I’ve recently come out with – buying full priced children’s clothing is a waste of money. If you have kids, you’ll agree – they grow way too fast, and with the exception of a few special pieces either gifted or picked up at a steal, there is no point in paying top dollar. I have blissfully returned to my humble roots of combing through second hand stores and picking up quality items. At Waldorf school, kids are encouraged to play hard, regardless of the weather, so the girls’ clothes take a beating. We were buying clothing lots on ebay for a while, but my method allows me to hand select things that I know the girls will love, and nothing goes to waste. I’ve applied this same theory to maternity clothes.

My mom took me to what seems to be the Mecca of second-hand clothing stores. Laid out like a department store, with a thousand times more selection and way better pricing than Value Village, I racked up a $200 bill at this place called Talize and bought the rest of my maternity wardrobe, several pieces for H & A for the summer, and a small mountain of onesies for Mixed Bacon. I also picked up some chapter books for the girls, which we’ve been reading at bed time.

Now, the exception to my second-hand rule is footwear and outerwear. Second-hand footwear is a bad idea, particularly for growing feet, and it’s rare to find really good quality outerwear second hand. This gap in my shopping experienced was satisfied by the Marshalls that had just opened up across the street. We were torn though – it was getting late and the beast in me that makes me eat or kill was starting to rear it’s ugly head. I smashed a fist full of almonds into my face, and we carried on. I scored a totally rad pair of Keene runners for H at less than half the price they were selling for on Amazon, a very cute summer hat for me, and two huge bottles of totally natural high SPF sunscreen. A seriously satisfying retail experience.

Then, the second most important reason for my trip (besides seeing my lovely mom) – a trip to Denningers for lunch. Denningers is a European market and deli that I grew up with because there was one right next door to the grocery store where my mom worked when we were kids. It was a staple, and their hot lunch counter offers a sampling of such delicacies as schnitzel, grilled sausages, home fries, cordon bleu, sauerkraut, coleslaw, and more. The smell and taste of a knockwurst on a bun with sauerkraut and dijon, paired with a side of home fries and gravy (which we shared) had permeated my dreams and was haunting me. Even now as I type this, I realize that one attempt at satisfying this craving won’t be enough. The Denningers lunch is going to have to be a part of the monthly mom/daughter date ritual.

After lunch, as the gale force winds started to pick up, we headed home to my mother’s ridiculously silly dog and day time television. I wanted to nap off my knockwurst, but the pooch wouldn’t let me sleep. Our television options were either an episode of Dr. Phil about a woman who discovered she was married to a serial rapist, or a talk show called “The Drs.” where a panel of real doctors answered viewers’ most embarrassing questions. Ass implants, toenail biting, female ejaculation and uncontrollable pregnancy farts were the easy winners there. I’m not missing much by not having cable.

Dad came home from work, we ate a frozen pizza for dinner (yes, it was a nutritional victory day all around) and then after dinner I packed up and headed back to Toronto. My mom had laundered all of the clothes I bought in the meanwhile because she’s the best.

It was such a nice, relaxing day. It felt like the first day in a long time where I had nothing to do but focus on the excitement of being pregnant with someone who was equally excited about my pregnancy. I figure in another month Talize will have replenished its stock and I’ll be due for another sausage on a bun and some quality time with my mom.

My dreams have become so vivid and when I wake I can remember them in such great detail. I think this is another pregnancy side effect. Last night I had a dream where I woke up in my family home in Hamilton with a baby boy at my breast. The feeling was so peaceful and serene, and he was beautiful but I quickly noticed that he had four teeth in his little head. As the dream unfolded, it became clear that I had just given birth to the little creature the night before, but to my dismay, I had no recollection of the event. My mother and paternal grandmother (who also raised me) were at hand in the dream, and I spoke to my father at one point too, to introduce him to his grandson.

Here’s what I took away from that particular dream:

The experience of childbirth itself is not something I’m afraid of. I was quite devastated to have missed the whole experience, or to not be able to remember it. Everyone around me in the dream seemed to find it odd that I wasn’t happy to have blocked out the “difficult part” but the whole thing was very distressing for me.

I also felt some panic in the dream when I realized that I couldn’t remember the six months of pregnancy leading up to delivery. It was as though I had fallen asleep in the present and woken up within the dream somewhere in the future. I think this served to point out how I should really cherish each moment, and each day of this experience.

I’m leaning towards wanting a boy. There are a lot of women in my house, so this makes sense. I’ll be happy with whatever healthy baby we get, but it would be pretty special to add a little man to our brood. I really hope he’s not born with teeth though. Yikes.

I’m still wondering what the significance of my paternal grandmother was. We had a rather difficult relationship. Maybe in the dream, I was finally feeling her pride in something I’d accomplished? If I had to choose either of my grandmothers to have on hand during birth, I think it would easily be my maternal grandmother who birthed thirteen children. To be fair though, my paternal grandmother wouldn’t let me get away with any whiny, fearful nonsense so maybe that would be useful. Since neither of them are still living, there’s a good chance they’ll both be on hand for the big event.

We took our first belly photo today, as you can see.  At only twelve weeks (three months) there is absolutely no hiding that I’m preggers, no matter what I wear. I love it. I’ve been toying with whether or not to share my ultrasound pics here, but I really don’t think that anyone needs to see my guts. Plus, it’s nice to give the little fig some privacy until he’s ready to make her debut.  Take my word for it, it’s a good-looking blob.

Taking myself for a big walk in an hour to meet the ravishing Allison Villa for lunch. I’m relying on all of my mommy friends to help me make good decisions about stuff. I mean that literally! What an enterprise baby-making is. I can’t believe how much gear they try to sell you. Surely to god nobody needs all of that crap.

My energy level is back up again. It was loooowww at the start of the week and I really had a hell of a day on Tuesday. So funny how different I feel from one day to the next.

Tonight we parent attend a guest lecture by Gordon Neufeld on raising your alpha child. Look forward to details tomorrow.

A particularly creative free day

It’s the perfect kind of November day for a Saturday. A day typically spent indoors should be one that is gray and relatively unappealing. This combination of chill temperatures and somber skies makes it very easy to focus.

Our Saturday morning ritual has become something I look forward to. N and I get up early with the girls, who have started classes on Saturday mornings. Mama S sleeps in after a long week of commuting to and from her job. After the girls are dropped off, N and I scoot to the nearby Second Cup where we grab a warm beverage and find a cozy corner to sit with our laptops and catch up on work, or catch up on writing, or catch up on the myriad frivolities of the Internet. We’ve got a couple of solid hours of “me” time before we gather up the girls and head home. Then we work as a crew to clean our home, which leads us usually to the dinner hour.

The grown ups in our home are trying to follow Timothy Ferriss’ ‘The Four Hour Body’ and Saturday has become our ‘free day’. Six days of careful food choices are capped with one day where we can eat anything our hearts desire. We’ve made the girls a part of this too – very carefully. We explain that we take care of our bodies by choosing to eat very healthy and exercise, and then on ‘free day’ we can enjoy some treats that might be less healthy. We aren’t the kind of parents who restrict foods from them though. We try to maintain a healthy, balanced diet for them rich in protein, but if the occasion for a treat arises, and good nutrition has been a big part of their day, then it’s usually a ‘yes’.

I’ve discovered in my own quest for healthier living that education and temperance are key. I like food plans that make sense and are easy to maintain, and I have learned to be forgiving of myself if I can’t stay on track. N and I are fortunate because we work from home, so we aren’t constantly tempted by fast food options or social indulgences. We have also been successful at building a morning work out into our schedule. For Mama S, who works out of the house, it’s a bit more of a challenge to stay consistent, but she’s genetically blessed with amazing muscle mass and so, in my opinion, is ahead of the curve.

Today’s indulgence will be a grown-ups only dinner at Holy Chuck. while the girls are spending time with N’s mom. I’ve been craving poutine all week, and it was high on my list for free day. N met the owner of Chuck and Co. at a foodie dinner this week and it didn’t take much to sell Mama S and I on the idea of burgers and gravy smothered fries.

Free day will become our biggest day for recipe sharing I think. We tend to be our most creative then. Last week, for example, we spent the entire day working together on this Epicurious Chicken Pot Pie. It literally took the ENTIRE DAY to make, but we all love being in the kitchen, so with some great tunes and a glass or two of wine, it was a pleasure. If you are less inclined to devote your day to cooking, I recommend breaking the recipe up and prepping it over a couple of days. The dough and the chicken broth can be made ahead. This was the very best chicken pot pie I have ever tasted in my entire life. I cut the sage by half because Mama S isn’t a big fan, and N was worried that the dough was too sticky, but we went with it and it turned out perfectly! I did notice the potatoes could have been a bit more pre-cooked before baking in the pie, and I truly recommend you read this recipe ahead of time as there are lots of steps. We managed to smash this with the help of N’s mum and brother, and the girls were rather disappointed to have nothing left for Monday lunch. Next time, we’ll make two!

I’m starting to get all Christmasy. It’s my favorite time of year, and I really want to make it special for our family, even though none of us are particularly Christian. I love the warmth of the season though, and all of the cooking, baking, making, sharing, presents, delicious aromas, etc. We have a couple of holiday traditions that we look forward to all year long:

1. The Ross Petty Pantomime

We took the girls as a family for the first time last year, and they continued to talk excitedly about the show for an ENTIRE YEAR afterward. I’ve worked in theatre for my entire adult life, and the shows are a real delight for all ages. Campy goodness, shameless gags, singing, dancing – they have it all. We got to enjoy the show last night. This year was inspired by the Wizard of Oz and A (our 5 and a half year old) got pulled up on stage where she unflinchingly charmed everyone before a crowd of easily a thousand people. Earlier, she turned around coyly in her seat and batted her eyes at a fourteen year old boy who gave her a peanut M&M without her even having to ask. Mama S says she takes after me. Our dear friend Ming Wong works as a costume cutter for the Panto, so she was able to hook us up with a mind-blowing friends and family discount, but the evening is great entertainment and silly fun, so I think we’d go regardless. It made H (our 8 year old) belt out her Snoopy laugh several times, and that itself is worth the admission.

2. The Winter Fair

Each December the girls’ school puts on a fund raising event called the Winter Fair. It’s a collaborative effort made possible by the labours of the parents and teachers, and it is absolutely magical. The school is totally transformed into a Winter Wonderland and with games, and crafts, and puppet shows, and delicious food to fill the day it’s a highlight of the year for all of the school community. I’m trying to lure some of our friends with wee ones to the fair this year.

November has consistently been a challenging time of year, where I find myself battling old sadness, where big unsettling changes tend to happen, and where the shift into the bluster of Autumn can make me feel really small and uncertain. I’m learning that embracing this shift towards quiet, inward turning is empowering and I’m learning that creating warmth and love in the form of mulling spices and chimney smoke is almost as powerful as sunshine.

The carnage left at ‘Holy Chuck’

I have the cold that wouldn’t die. So does Mama S, who is now on her third week of coughing. My 9:00 am sleep in was much appreciated this morning, and my plan is to remain in my pajamas until I have to leave the house for production meetings and rehearsal later. In fact, if I’m really clever, I’ll figure out a pajama-like outfit to spend the rest of the evening in.

Holy Chuck was quite the experience last night. I found most of the menu actually impossible to eat – six layers of beef patties sandwiched by layers of grilled cheese for example. I got their jr burger with bacon, cheese, and caramelized onions because I couldn’t imagine eating more beef than that. They grind their meet on site, and it’s all locally raised and never frozen. I could taste the difference. We paired our burgers with a pile of poutine (hand cut French fries of course) and hand cut sweet potato chips with chipotle mayo. Yum. The burger was perfectly cooked, and kind of melt-in-my-mouth amazing. N got a few more toppings than I would have liked, so if we go back I think I’ll try it a bit more paired down. After our meal I was totally satisfied, and didn’t feel disgusting. The shakes there were ridiculous. Made with locally produced ice cream, our Strawberry Cheesecake shake was about 90% ice cream and had chunks of cheesecake and graham crust within. Johnny, the owner, recognized N immediately and was very gracious and warm. He even let us sample a complimentary dessert soon to be added to the menu – cookie dough wrapped in bacon and deep fried, served over vanilla ice cream drizzled with pure maple syrup and dusted with Belgian chocolate shavings. After that, I needed to crawl to the car. Glad to have lycra clothing for that visit. There’s a great debate about whether Holy Chuck can stand up to The Burger’s Priest, and since we’ve never been to the Priest, it will be a destination for a future Free Day. Consider it a research project.

I’m looking forward to this evening, though it means having to tear myself away from our cozy home. Some of you know that I’m the Artistic Director of Les Coquettes Cabaret, which is a theatre company I co-founded seven years ago. We’re working on our December 11th Holiday show which we’re performing at our Toronto home, Revival. I really love show prep, and we’re working on some exciting plans for the coming year. We’re also rehearsing our New Year’s Eve show for the Sanderson Centre which will be the largest theatre we’ve performed at to date. Exciting times all around. I’m mostly really grateful to finally find myself in a place where I really enjoy going to work.

The fam is presently piled on the sofa with N’s mum watching the BBC series ‘Life’. The kids are enthralled, and it’s conjuring such great memories of how much I used to love watching nature shows with my dad. The girls are presently caught up in the drama of the giant octopus, who lays 100,000 eggs and holes herself up for six months to nurture and protect them, not eating a thing. As they hatch, the mother dies of starvation, and her final sacrifice is the baby octopus first meal – their mom becomes a feast. The girls take it all in stride – A is explaining it all to us as the story unfolds. She’s seen it before, and it’s stuck with her, but she is nonplussed by the drama.

The week ahead is busy. In fact all are, leading up to the holidays. Our home business is hectic at this time of year, the school is filled with activity, and Les Coquettes doesn’t stop until the spring, as far as I can tell. I need to find a kick ass mac and cheese recipe that I can make in massive quantity for the kids’s Winter Fair cafe. Suggestions are most welcome.