Browsing Tag

the anarchy


Hello Internets! We are home. 

We headed back from Victoria yesterday, and let me tell you it is so much nicer making the trip back now that we are driving home along a highway, rather than through the clogged arteries of a major city.

For about 24 hours, every single one of my sisters was in the same place at the same time. There was this overwhelming crush of talking and laughter and ten outstretched arms trying to steal little Olive. They played with her and danced with her, lay on the bed and sang lullabies to get her to sleep; They each have their own way of interacting with her and talking to her, honestly seeing her in their arms, and seeing how much they all adore her, it is the sweetest thing in the world.

Every time I drive away from one of these family gatherings, I wear their collective influence for weeks. I hear myself speak like them, move like them. I feel their mannerisms and their energy linger around me like subtle whiffs of perfume. It’s sort of reassuring, this delayed goodbye, but it also makes their absence hit home that much harder.

It’s so quiet. 

I think I am going to have to start playing the lottery. Me, a staunch anti-gambling lady, compromising her principles because winning mega millions of dollars is the only way I will ever be able to fulfill my dream of having every one of my family members living in the same city as us. I would offer each and every one of them a one-hundred-thousand dollar signing bonus if they would promise to live wherever I did.

I’d buy them houses and find them work  they loved, and we’d have a dining room table big enough to fit every single one of them.

And then I wouldn’t have to wear their words like cloaks around my shoulders.

And then I wouldn’t have to say goodbye. 





I swear this child will never be able to sleep anywhere but in the arms of female relatives at the rate we’re going.

This weekend my mom visited again for her usual dose of baby whispering, and my sister and her boyfriend drove out from Alberta to meet Olive for the first time.

With Lizzie’s visit, Olive has now met every single one of her aunts and uncles on my side of the family, and is just missing a snuggle from Adam’s twin sister Leigh, which she will get at Christmas.


As I posted yesterday, my sister’s boyfriend Eric has a pretty intense mustache. And for some reason, although Adam is very fond of Eric himself, the mustache elicits a strange sort of rage in him. Every time Adam sees a picture of Eric on Facebook he points angrily at the offending facial hair and exclaims loudly, “Why?!”

I have no idea why the mustache angers him so – I can only assume it’s envy, because as we know Adam himself is not averse to weird and wonderful bouts of facial hair styling. See here. And here.

As we sat in my living room yesterday, my mom, sister and I cooing over little Olive, Adam sat staring at Eric’s mustache growing more and more incensed by the minute.

Finally he leapt up, “I’m going to teach you a lesson.” he muttered ominously, and stomped off to the bathroom.

Five minutes later he emerged like this.


                                                  Nerd twins.

Adam has done a lot of weird shit, but nothing has bewildered me more than this. Because for the rest of the evening yesterday, and all throughout today he has insisted that he is wearing this mustache “…to punish Eric.”

What? WHAT?

How is this punishing anyone aside from me, who woke up to get Olive in the middle of the night, rolled over and in my sleepy state mistakenly thought I was in bed with my DAD (who had a mustache for the first 18 years of my life)?


Of course Eric, the one this abomination is supposed to be punishing, thinks it’s awesome. Adam keeps saying he’s going to shave it off because it looks so horrible but simultaneously threatens to keep it forever out of spite.


Also: I am quickly on my way to becoming the first person to gain more weight after having the baby than while actually pregnant. I haven’t gained anything yet, but its the only logical conclusion to the wicked sweet tooth I’ve developed lately which had me calling Adam “dickface” for eating my last L’il Debbie snack cake brownie.

Internets, what have I become? Six weeks ago I didn’t even know what a L’il Debbie snack cake was! I’m embarassed. But also kind of happy, because there’s a happy reason for this ridiculousness – I’m pregnant!

I kid! I kid.

No, it’s because my Gitelman’s is cured! Sort of.

(New here? what’s all this about Gitelman’s? Click to catch up.)

Right before my c-section, I tested for the highest levels of Potassium I have ever had. Ever. To the point where I made the anesthesiologist triple-check the results to make sure they were in fact mine.

I thought it was a fluke. Then I got my regular monthly bloodwork done about three weeks after Olive was born and I was testing in the normal range for all of my electrolytes. This has never ever happened – even after being in the hospital getting IV’s all night.

I spoke with my Nephrologist and he thinks that a hormone released by your body towards the end of pregnancy and while breastfeeding ,triggering my kidneys to keep electrolytes, so after taking a million pills a day for the past eight years I am now taking exactly zero. I’m not craving salt. And my tiredness is normal “I have a newborn baby” tiredness, nothing more.

It’s so weird. But also so fantastic and I kind of want to be one of those women who breastfeeds till her child is eight just so I can keep these benefits going.

Side effect of all this though, is that those crazy salt cravings have been replaced by crazy sugar cravings, which is way way worse. Because sugar is the devil and I know this, I swear that I know this, but also? Brownies.

I’m going to give myself a week or two to gorge myself on sweet, sweet refined sugar before I reign things in. I figure I have earned that for all of the pregnancy cravings I missed out on with the Diabeetus. That’s right, I amretroactivelysatisfying pregnancy cravings.

No, YOU don’t make sense!

Anyway. I’m going to go sniff my babies head and eat some ice cream and try and persuade my husband to shave that thing off of his face.

Good day.


                            Olive loves giving Lizzie the stink eye apparently.




What an incredible weekend. I’m still reeling, trying to find a some time to process the events of the last few days, its been such a happy whirlwind.

I knew that my dad was driving out to finish working on the baby cradle, but when he stopped by my work when he got into town, he brought a stowaway with him – my little sister Lizzie!

I was SO HAPPY to see her! She lives a province away and  I wasn’t expecting her to be able to make it – so much has happened since I last saw her and it was amazing to see her and hug her and simply have her here.

(Also amazing? Her cooking. The cooking gene skipped me but seemed to double up on Lizzie, and we’ve been reaping the benefits of her culinary talents all weekend. Adam tried to hire her as a personal chef but she’s waaaay out of our price range.)

That was one piece of the amazingness. The other was two MORE sister surprises! Adam snuck down to the city on Saturday night and picked up my two youngest sisters so they could spend the night with us rather than just coming up for a few hours during the day on Sunday.

This was a stroke of absolute genius, and although I always get a bit twitchy when the anarchy descends en masse, it is always so much fun to have them take over our house. (Although all of this visiting is making me realize that we really need a bigger place – preferably one that can house all of them at once so they never have to leave.)


This is what it looked like for most of Saturday night and much of Sunday – wall to wall clothing, a giant blow-up bed bed taking up my living room and 3 out of 4 sisters playing strip poker (whaaa?) with Adam into the wee hours.


(Fortunately my sisters wear lots of layers and jewelry. Also fortunately, Adam started winning again shortly after he lost a few hands and his shirt[s].)

And then Sunday, SUNDAY! Sunday a wonderful friend named Saren (Hi Saren!) threw me a baby shower. None of my close friends have babies yet so this was my first baby shower ever. I didn’t know quite what to expect, but I was absolutely blown away by how much time, effort and love got crammed into just four or five hours.


                          (Mawney, Claire, me, Lizzie, Hilary…all of the sisters!)

There’s no way to say this without being cheesy, so I’m just going to go for it on this one (I’m 9 months pregnant, if I can’t get emotional now, when can I?): Sitting in that room full of people who had taken time out of their weekends to come to this party – the majority of them traveling huge distances to get there (including my mom and my friend Celene who came over from the Island, plus Adam’s family who made an 8 hour round trip just for the baby shower!) – it was overwhelming.


(Adam, me, our nephew, Adam’s dad, Scott,  & mom, Cathy, his older sister Christine, and our niece)

I just couldn’t believe that so many people put in so much time and effort to make such a special day for us- all of it to celebrate our little family. I kept reflecting on how incredibly lucky this baby is – it’s not even here yet, but it’s already so welcomed, and so loved. It was a lot to take in.

And then, just as quickly as they came, everyone left. I woke up early this morning to see off our last guests (Lizzie and my dad), and now my house feels huge and empty, if a bit disheveled.

I thought I had an IV this morning so I got all dressed and packed a bag with snacks and books and thank you notes to complete over the course of the 5 hour drip, only to discover that it’s not until tomorrow, so now I just sitting here in the middle of this too-quiet house, thinking, thinking.

(I seriously wish my brain had an off switch sometimes.)

How did we get so lucky?


Saren even made a beer cake for Adam! I think this was his favorite part. At least until this happened:



My little sister Hilary doing her best “Maddie” impression.

I have to admit, she nailed it.