Three Things New Miranda Does that Old Miranda Didn't

1. Drink more water

Cointrin and I are doing another "contest" to cut soft drinks from our diet. It's more of a support group thing than a competition because, as usual, there's no prize, no nothing - just two people who have chosen not to drink any juice or pop until... we're not sure. Sometime.

Needless to say, Cointrin is doing a much better job at this water thing than I am (true, I haven't had any juice or pop, but my Mio use has increased exponentially). It's hard. I would have cracked completely if we weren't doing the no-pop-challenge together. I would give anything for a Pepsi right now. Also, some hash browns, covered in cheese, with some onions and wieners in them. And a BLT. And some chips and onion dip. God, I'm hungry.


2. Make my own eczema cream

Really, that's a thing I did last night. Check it out!

I used this recipe: http://diyconfessions.com/2012/11/15/homemade-eczema-creamskin-moisturizer/.

I'll check back in a week (no, really. I will!) and let you know how it's going. I think eczema or no, this is probably a good hand cream recipe as far as homemade stuff goes. What's not to love about olive oil, coconut oil and oatmeal?


3. Join Tumblr

Okay, this is less like, a "New Miranda" thing as it is another way to get some more Hannah Hart into my online diet, but there you go. I have a Tumblr now. And I have nooo idea what to do with it. I feel like I'm showing my age here. What is Tumblr, anyway? I always thought Tumbler was to Pinterest as MySpace was to Facebook, so I never bothered. Come to find out I can follow blogs or something? Clearly, I need to surf around the site for more than the two seconds it took me to sign up and find Hannah.


Bonus Thing

I also researched some volunteer positions in my area, but nothing meshes with my childcare arrangements and Chase's work schedule at the moment. I think I'm going to have to keep creeping on some one-time-volunteer opportunities until something I can take comes up. I did learn that one of the senior centres has positions available, so that's definitely something to consider if I could somehow magically accommodate the hours. I would also love love love to teach people to read at the library. Oh my goodness; if only people wanted to learn to read with a 3 year-old and 6 month-old whining beside them...

Even More Games I Play with My 3 Year-Old

Whitney is playing "We're going to the ball" in this photo.

Chase's boots are her dancing shoes.

The hall mat is The Ball (her dance floor).

Her lack of pants indicate that there's more going on at this party than just dancing.

Baby - Playing "Baby" makes me want to shove hot forks in my eyes, which is probably why it's Whitney's favourite game. She ALWAYS wants to be an infant and she wants me to take care of her. She plays this game even when I refuse to take part; she follows me around on her hands and knees, clutches at my ankles, and says "goo goo ga ga" or "whaaah waaaah waaaahnn!" until my head explodes. She puts herself to bed in Lorelai's crib. She wants to drink from real bottles. She swipes soothers. I want to murder her, but I try to be sympathetic. I know she's jealous of all of the attention Lorelai gets, so I indulge her a bit - not just in baby stuff, but also in special mommy-daughter time, games, creative play, etc., but this baby game is hard work. I have explained over and over again that I like big girls much better than babies (truth), and that I like playing other games, but she clings to this infant thing just the same. It's a phase I hope she gets over, like, NOW.

Doggy/Kitty - This game, where Whitney pretends to be a dog or a cat, is slightly more tolerable than "Baby" if only because she doesn't pretend to cry during it. Also, I get to sit on the couch while I throw an imaginary stick for Whit to fetch. Reeelaxing. Part of my responsibility as a pet owner is putting a bowl of water on the floor for the dog/cat to drink from. Water gets everywhere and inevitably, our real cat will start drinking from that same bowl, forcing me to put down another one for Whitney. I usually cut the game short when Buddy finds that second bowl of water and/or when there is more water on the floor than in the bowl. It's annoying, but cleaning up that mess is still preferable to playing "Baby".

Whiney Monster - Okay, this isn't really a game so much as a technique I stole (and potentially warped) from Jennifer Kolari to get my kid to stop whining. When Whit's voice reaches a pitch that I equate to nails on a chalkboard, I say something like "it sounds like the Whiney Monster has jumped down your throat again and made your voice sound like this [insert whiney voice here]. Open your mouth so I can see him!" If Whitney isn't overly upset, she opens her mouth so I can peer in and shout "Get out of there, Whiney Monster!". It gets a laugh and Whit will stop whining (at least, that's the goal). Every once in awhile, she tells me that it's not the Whiney Monster but Baby Monster* who is paying her a visit. Almost 50% of the time, the Whiney Monster technique doesn't work at all and I'm forced to play other games like "Mommy can't hear you when you use that voice" and "If you don't stop whining, you're going to your room or Mommy's gonna fit you with a pair of cement shoes and throw you in the river".

*Baby Monster - "Baby Monster" more or less grew out of "Pink Monster/Monster on the Rocks". Baby Monster (a tiny, pink, male creature named "Karen" but often referred to as just "Baby Monster") is Whitney's imaginary friend. He shows up everywhere, but he's famous for joining us when we are out and about. Sometimes he rides in Whitney's pocket or in her hand, sometimes the stroller. Sometimes he runs ahead and beats us home. He's also a big fan of the bathtub and joins Whitney for a dip. Lately, his family has been visiting us, too. His dad, a grey monster, has taken a particular liking to me. I think Whitney created Daddy Monster to be my pet like Baby Monster is hers. I always wonder what she imagines Baby Monster to look like. I personally picture him as a dusty-rose coloured saltasaurus. "Baby Monster" is one of my favourite games because it doesn't involve any clean-up, it doesn't require me to spoon fake food into my kid's face, and it's open ended enough that Baby Monster can do just about anything. It's fun to hear Whitney make up new adventures for him.

You can read about more games I play with Whitney here and here.

My Early Mid-Life Crisis

Well, it took a little longer than last time, but I've hit that point in my mat leave when I actually WANT to go back to work. I know from experience that I'm delusional (I'd be in the office for 2 minutes before I decided that I'd rather be at home), but it doesn't keep me from daydreaming about cubicles and reports and lunch with my coworkers.

I think I'm having a mini mid-life crisis because... what the hell am I doing with my life?! And whhhyy do I want to go back to my job? Am I THAT boring*?

*That was a rhetorical question. I am that boring.

I have a little under 6 months left of my maternity leave; I'm determined to stop whining like the ungrateful douche bag I am, and do something with this amazing time I've been given. The problem is,  I don't know what I want to do. No matter. I will forge ahead. Join me and New Miranda in the coming weeks as I invent projects designed to make me feel better, but that I will probably never follow through on. Weeee!!

The Internet Told Me to Do It: Creamy Chicken Broccoli Casserole

I'm really trying hard to create a meal plan each week, and stick to it. My whole family is happier when we're eating good, healthy, home-cooked meals, but I frequently lose sight of that when Chase has been working a lot of late nights or when we haven't been able to coordinate a trip to the grocery store or when I'm bored stiff with the meals I usually make.

In order to keep it fresh and exciting (as fresh and exciting as cooking can get for me - I'm not much of a homemaker), I've been scouring the internet for new recipes. Chef in Training is my new favourite food blog, if only because she gets her husband to do a "favourites" round-up every once in awhile. If it's husband approved, I'm all over it.

Her Creamy Chicken Broccoli Casserole was hubby-approved - both her husband and my husband loved it; me, not so much. Whitney barely let it pass her lips. I'm not surprised that it wasn't my favourite recipe - I don't like white sauces much and this was very white-saucy. I also kind of hate parmesan, and even though I only used half of what the recipe called for, it was still a little too cheesy for me. That being said, I'd make this casserole again. It is a nice once-in-a-blue-moon-because-Chase-really-liked-it meal, and it's really easy to make.

Recipe here: http://www.chef-in-training.com/2011/03/creamy-chicken-broccoli-casserole/

Movies I've Seen Lately that AREN'T Les Mis*

* I've been wanting to post about Les Mis for two weeks now, but I put it off for so long, I can't summon the rage I need to write the entry anymore. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe...

Rock of Ages - Whyyyyy did I see another musical?! Whyyyyyyyyy!!? This movie was so bad, and so forgettable, I'd rather see Les Mis again.

Magic Mike - I had a bunch of girls over to see this one because it seemed like that kind of movie. Turns out? I dislike watching naked men dance around when I'm in a group just as much as I do when I'm alone. Also, I barely watched the movie and was still able to follow the "plot". The only thing that would have made Magic Mike good was some man-on-man action - all of those buff, half-naked guys and not a single kiss between the lot. What a shame. PS - I am a total pig.

Pootie Tang - I had to watch this movie after I found out that Louis CK (who, for some reason, has been gettng quite a few mentions in my blog lately. I do like other comedians, guys. Really) wrote and directed it. Terrible, terrible, but it's one of those movies I like much better in retrospect, if my frequent use of the phrase "I'm gonna sine your piddy on the runny kine" is any indication.

What horrible movies have you guys been watching lately?

I'm Like a Graceful Swan... A Graceful, Drunk Swan

I used to take dance classes as a kid and this was totally me: 

I used to take dance classes a few years ago. Still me.

Facebook, You Never Disappoint

I love passive aggressive Facebook posts. Statuses like "this is to see who actually reads my posts and who just trolls" and "this little girl was brutally raped and then she died of cancer. Share if you hate rape and cancer. I bet no one on my friends list will re-post this" fill me, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, with glee. 

Imagine my giddy excitement, then, when I stumbled upon the king of all "shares":

This post is made infinitely better knowing that 

379,508 people clicked "like" without a trace of irony

It's absolutely perfect. I literally cannot look at this picture without laughing. Facebook, you never fail to delight me.

6 Gross and Surprising Things About Giving Birth

Lorelai is 6 months old today, which means that I have put off sharing our birth story for half a year. My powers of procrastination know no bounds.

Lorelai, 6 months old

I plan to post a video about my labour experience, but I need Chase to sit down with me to film it; I was so delirious with pain and blood loss, I'm a little fuzzy on the details. Long story short: I was planning a hospital birth (I would have planned a home birth, but I had a C-section and I hemorrhaged last time, so I wanted to increase my odds of, you know, living), but the Powers that Be had other plans. I ended up delivering in my bedroom, partly because I refused to believe I was in labour, partly because my midwife didn't think I would deliver so quickly, and mostly because Lorelai hated the whole experience as much as I did and said "Eff this Ess! I'm out of here!". Then, I lost a ton of blood and had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance.

It might take me another 6 months to actually sit down in front of a camera, so in the meantime, I thought I'd share with you 6 gross and surprising things about giving birth.

1. Fake labour feels exactly like real labour.

That thing you heard about labour feeling like period cramps? True. But I've never had period cramps that 1) made me sit up taller, and 2) made me pace around the house in a vain attempt to distance myself from, and even outrun, the pain.

Also, you might think your water broke just because you soaked through your pants. Unless you're sitting in a puddle big enough to bathe in, your water probably didn't break.

2. If you have not peed in a few hours, your midwife will make you get up to use the bathroom, even though the very thought of moving makes you wish for death.

Apparently, giving birth with a full bladder is dangerous. If you are unable to pee, they will catheter you. I thought the catheter was an idle threat. It was not.

3. Giving birth feels like taking the biggest, most horrifying shit of your life.  Times a million.

I was under the impression that pushing would be a relief from the pain - if not a full out relief, at least a place to redirect the pain. Total lie. Pushing is terrifying. I screamed like I was in a horror film; I was told to keep it down lest my neighbours think I was being murdered and call the police.

4. Once you give birth, the painful part isn't necessarily over.

My first words after I gave birth were "It's over! I can't believe it's over!" I should have known that was too good to be true. After you give birth, you deliver the placenta, after which, a team of women poke, prod and knead your sore stomach to make sure your uterus is contracting. And then, if you're super lucky, you get your vagina sewn back up. And then, if you're still unable to pee because, say, you start to faint on the toilet, they will give you a second catheter.

See that shopping bag and gloved hand in the top right corner?
Definitely a midwife poking around in my placenta.
Also, I'm pretty sure I was getting stitches when this photo was taken.

5. You might be asked to play with your nipples if your uterus fails to contract.

...Yeeeeah. It's just as weird and awkard as it sounds.

6. Fainting after you give birth is fucking awesome.

Seriously, it's better than getting high. For one, while the midwives are calling the ambulance and, in my case, preparing your catheter, no one messes with you and you get to relax. I laid on my side rather than my back for the first time in hours and it was such a relief, I almost cried (maybe I did cry?). My bed has never been so comfortable. For another, and maybe this is the blood loss talking, fainting makes you euphoric. I knew I could potentially die, but I didn't give a shit about anything. I may or may not have said "Come on in! Witness me in all my glory!!" to the EMTs who came to whisk me away in the ambulance. I was completely naked, and there was a bag of my own pee beside me at the time. I did not.give.a.shit. It was amazing.

Bonus Surprising Thing About Giving Birth, At Home, With Complications

Even though it sucked all kinds of ass, I would do it again. My midwives were fabulous, and they were a stark contrast to the hospital treatment I got afterward (speaking of which, the doctors didn't do anything for me that the midwives weren't already doing. Except, I guess, they offered me a transfusion on my second day - which I refused so I could go home earlier). All in all, it was a pretty amazing experience.

Selfish Acts of Altruism

My favourite holiday is upon us! Yahooooo!! How ya doin', 2013?!

Notable Moments of 2012
1. I moved out of my shitty, Gypsy-infested basement apartment and into a house that I actually like.
2. I gave birth on my bedroom floor and subsequently took my very first ambulance ride. Both experiences were pretty cool*.
3. I paid off my student loan and one of my credit cards.

*Birth story coming soon. Probably.

I spent the better part of November and all of December thinking about the nature of my unhappiness and how big of an asshole I am for being unhappy in the first place. I am a healthy, privileged white chick with two beautiful, happy children, a great partner, and family and friends who love us. I have a nice, warm place to live, plenty of food to eat, and enough money to make ends meet. Chase and I both  have stable jobs, with benefits, that we enjoy. I have access to free healthcare, a year of maternity leave, and the means to be or do anything I want just because I was fortunate enough to be born in Canada. My life is awesome.

My problem isn't that I have legitimate things to be depressed about; it's that I am not doing anything. I spend too much time thinking about myself and devising indulgent self-betterment projects (the same ones, over and over again) that contribute absolutely nothing to my character or the world at large.

In late November, I decided that I was going to donate 1% of my income to charity every month. I realize 1% isn't a lot, but at the moment, it's what I can afford and it's more than I had been donating previously (which is next to 0%). What I really want to do is sponsor a kid through Plan Canada, but for various reasons, that's going to have to wait until my maternity leave is over. For now, I'll just be donating to random charities until my financial future is a little more predictable.

So that's kind of my New Years Resolution - to continue donating 1% of my income, and to focus less on myself and more on others (family, friends and strangers alike). I'm still kind of an asshole for trying to be more altruistic to make MYSELF feel better, but at least I didn't vow to take a picture of myself every day in 2013?