The 'rents have landed

Mummy and Daddy arrived yesterday night. It's great seeing them again after so many months, although my mom did tell me that my hips look like they are widening!

Today, I had to go down to the lawyer's office to sign paperwork for the house deal but met up with my parents afterwards for a really nice afternoon. We started off at the ROM which had a great exhibition of Asian artifacts and then walked the long way through Philosopher's Walk and Queen's Park to that stretch of Baldwin Street where all the restaurants are -- to our final destination, Bodega, where we were going to have a birthday dinner for Daddy.

I guess I kind of underestimated how long the distance was from the museum to the restaurant and ended up exhausting my parents. They sure were ready to sit down and eat dinner by the time we got to Bodega. Jon thought I was crazy.

After dinner, we drove up to the new house so that my parents could take a look. We couldn't go inside obviously so we just stood outside on the sidewalk across the street and gazed at it. I think they really like it. My dad said something about it looking like a heritage home :)

Introducing BOYOTA

After a few of days of fearing that the worst was going to happen, we closed on the house! Everything has been signed off on, and it's all official -- we'll be saying goodbye to 880 Davenport on September 4th. As a bonus, it's a nice young couple -- Matthew and Jodi -- that are buying the house, which seems fitting somehow.

And even more exciting than that -- Jon and I went to the baby's second ultrasound. The technician showed us the baby's spine which looked well-formed and its heart which was beating strongly and regularly. Also, we saw that the baby is a boy! I had a hunch almost from the start of my pregnancy that the baby was a boy. So it was quite neat finding out my hunch was correct. Actually, I cried. I guess finding out made it all the more real. I think a large part of why I thought the baby was a boy has to do with hoping that the baby takes after Jon -- imagining the baby looking like Jon and being smile-y and funny like Jon and well-adjusted like Jon. It was easy to imagine the baby being a mini version of Jon. I mean, I hope the baby takes after me too, but I've sort of fallen in love with Jon all over again with the pregnancy and am finding myself doting on him and all his great qualities -- hoping that the baby will inherit a lot of them.
Anyway, that's enough gushing for now. How's this for a nickname? Boyota! It's absurd but we like it!

Female Warrior Types

A couple of days ago I went to my prenatal yoga class. I had been enjoying my classes quite a bit up to this point. I found them both challenging (it's difficult to hold some of the poses) and relaxing -- almost simultaneously. However, we had a new instructor that day, and it seemed clear to me that she was very invested in the idea of herself as some sort of fierce female warrior archetype. She very imperiously informed the class that she was a certified hypno birth therapist, a certified prenatal massage therapist, as well as a certified doula. She remarked very drily that she did not subscribe to the traditional medical model when it came to prenatal care and delivery. Although I'm sympathetic to the practices she teaches, something about her rubbed me the wrong way -- probably the chip on her shoulder.

Anyway, she led us through an hour of deep sighs and modified yoga poses. For the cool-down, she asked us to lie on our backs with our eyes closed. Suddenly, I smelled incense, and I could sense that she was standing over me. She pressed her thumb into the centre of my forehead, which was fine -- I guessed that she was marking me with incense. Then, with the weight of her whole body behind her, she drove my shoulders into the floor and snapped my head back. I remember this hurting a little at the time but I quickly dismissed it as the instructor just being unorthodox.

Fast-forward to today -- my third day in a row of shoulder, neck, arm, and back pain. After having it pointed out to me by a number of people who noticed my discomfort that a yoga instructor should not be touching unsuspecting students in the way my instructor did me, I worked up the courage to call the coordinator of the program and report the incident. Funny how I should feel sheepish and worry about being a bitch about making the call when, in actual fact, the instructor was in the wrong. Long story short, the program coordinator agreed that the instructor shouldn't have been touching the students in this way. The bummer is that I will be taking my classes at a location that is not as convenient for me. It's a compromise I can understand though. If a staff member at work did something wrong, he or she wouldn't automatically be dismissed. He or she would be subject to disciplinary measures, but a dismissal would really be out of line. And I can understand that the coordinator of the prenatal program wasn't going to instantly replace the instructor because a student had called to complain. I do, however, plan not to use this program for my post-partum exercise needs.

Got to go put an ice pack on the shoulder! Signing off.

Toula Loora Toora Loo-Rye-Aye

After our trip out west in the spring, during which we spent a lot of time trollng beaches, I was inspired, when we got back, to find a waterfront restaurant in Toronto. The closest thing Jon and I found was Toula which sits atop the Westin Harbour Castle Hotel on the Harbourfront. Whilst dining on mediterranean-esque food, guests can take in a panoramic view of the lake.

While the concept sounded pretty good, the actual experience was underwhelming. The food was bland-tasting and not especially lovely to look at, and the atmosphere was decidedly "hotel restaurant." You win some, you lose some, I guess.
The outing to Toula made me think longingly of Tofino, as soggy as it is. Next spring, when the baby is four or five months old, I'll take him or her there. We'll cast our gaze over the active waters and pick from a plate of salmon in front of us (well, I will at least). It's nice to have things to look forward to.

Books for Babies

Magnolia's only a couple weeks old, I know, but being a librarian, I felt compelled to pick up a few books for her today. My choice of book store was Indigo more for the convenience than for any other reason. Not to put too fine a point on it, their baby collection is nonsense.

Board books featuring the Honey Nut Cheerios bee do nothing for a baby learning about its environment and mastering new skills. After quite a bit of digging, I was able to come away with a couple of decent titles -- the lift-the-flap Peek-A-Moo and a terry-cloth covered Peter Rabbit.

Anyway, time to step on the soap box.... There are far too many products out there that are ostensibly for the baby but are really designed to appeal to the clueless parent. I'm thinking of those really awful, awful, cynical, terrible "Poo happens" onesies. Also, all those "children's" books being put out by people who think they know how to write and illustrate for children but actually don't (and I'm not just talking about Madonna but about various graphic designers and magazine illustrators as well) There's also the Baby Einstein videos and DVDs. Babies shouldn't be watching TV -- period. Anyway, I better stop here or I'll end up sounding way too grumpy.

Splurge

It's no secret to those who know me well that I fell in love with Paris when we were there last year and that I now harbour an over-the-top passion for the place and anything associated with it. I'm sure it's all quite silly on my part. But anyway, the fact remains that I adore most French stuff.

So, imagine my glee when I discovered Formes -- a maternity wear boutique in Yorkville. Actually, Formes is the name of the maternity line. It's designed in France, and it is super chic. I've been contentedly wearing Rhonda up to now. Their stuff is well-cut, and the fabrication is pretty decent. But none of it really bowls you over. I've never thought -- gosh, that piece is really lovely, or, gosh, that piece is truly refined. But you do think those things of the Formes maternity line. Check out their current look book.
http://www.formes.com/en/lacollection.htm

It doesn't show the entirety of the collection, so you won't be able to see the pieces I bought, but it gives you a sense of what it's all about. My favourite piece I picked up is a black and grey drop-waist dress in jersey. It feels great to know that I have something really becoming and special to wear while I'm pregnant.

Getting the hubby involved

Jon and I went to see Robyn this morning. It's the first time he's accompanied me to a prenatal visit. It was a bit of feat getting him to come with me. Not that he's not a gloriously happy father-to-be but because until we had a Conversation the other week(note the capital C -- it means that the discussion was intense), he thought of the pregnancy not as OUR pregnancy but my pregnancy.

Basically, Jon understands now that we should both be reading and gathering information about the baby's development in utero and what to expect when he or she is finally here. He also understands that the visits to the midwife are for both our benefit. Also, he now knows that I need his help staying the course as far as eating well for the baby. Feeling as tired as I do some days, there are times when it seems like a major challenge to prepare a nutrient-dense meal. At these times, the temptation is to eat whatever is handy. Hopefully, Jon will prepare a few more of the meals from now on and if I never see pizza on the menu again, I certainly won't be crying. Yes, it's true -- I can't stand pizza -- all that dough and cheese and scanty pieces of overcooked vegetables. I haven't developed any pregnancy cravings yet but I've certainly developed some food aversions!

So, to wrap up, everything is still going very well at week 18. I've put on seven pounds, there's been no nausea, no constipation, etc. Cloudless so far -- yay! Oh, and here's another belly shot.

Nutrition and Baby

Smoothies. One of the best things you can eat for the baby.

One banana. About half a tub of plain low-fat yogurt. Fresh or frozen berries. Dessert tofu if you have it on hand. A splash of orange juice. And blend it all together.

Recommended read: Eating for Pregnancy by Catherine Jones.

Red, Red Wine

Jon and I saw Jennifer, Florent, and their two boys Dominic and Theo today at the High Park house they are staying in while they're in town. The house belongs to a friend of Jennifer's who is currently in Paris staying at Jen and Florent's place. Nice arrangement! Especially for Jen's friend!

It was great seeing them as always. They have been enjoying their time in Canada, taking day trips to places like St. Jacobs and Niagara-on-the-Lake, as well as simply tottering around town, taking the boys to the local splash pad, etc. Florent told a funny story about Theo making overtures to a couple of small local boys at the park. In his French-tinged English, he asked the two boys, "Hey guys, what's going on?' But of course, it sounded more like, "eh guy-ees, wut's goingg awn?" Ha! So cute!

I had my first glass of wine since finding out that I'm pregnant tonight. We talked about how allowable wine consumption during pregnancy varies from place to place, with Toronto's Public Health department presenting itself in the strictest manner, forbidding wine altogether in contrast to the French health care system which permits a few glasses here and there. As Naomi Wolf writes in Misconceptions, it's as if the no-alcohol-whatsoever camp feel that women are too stupid to govern themselves appropriately, if permitted to use their discretion about drinking, and therefore feel safer advising a no-alcohol policy.

I don't plan on making a habit of drinking during the pregnancy -- but neither am I going to let myself buy into the paranoia. Liz told me that at her Public Health prenatal class, the nurse actually remarked that it was so sad seeing babies with fetal alcohol syndrome born to mothers who had just one glass of wine. Yikes!

As far as I can see, pregnancy is a time to focus on enjoying life and treating yourself and your loved ones well. Not a time to be fearful and to be treated like a sacred cow.

Anyway, here's an old pic of Theo, from last year in his home in Joinville-Le-Pont. Unfortunately, we've never been able to snap too many pics of Dominic!