Fuzzisms #3: Reality TV Edition….with a small dose of pregnancy reality

I think I mentioned before that I keep a running list of Fuzzisms to draw from.  I do this because I’m pregnant.  I’m sure that most pregnant women and mothers can relate.  It’s called pregnancy brain, mommy brain or mommy amnesia.  My personal favourite, however, is momnesia.

This week I had the mother of all Fuzzisms related to TV…but I didn’t write it down!!!! It’s sitting there on the edge of my brain.  I can almost grasp it but it’s gone as soon as I feel the inkling of the memory.  The best I can recall is that it was related to House of Bryan on HGTV Canada, but don’t hold me to that either.

I tried to hold off on this post because I was certain I would remember.  No dice though.  Hence, the decision to combine this Fuzzism post with a dose of my own reality. Enjoy the two Fuzzisms that I did write down and perhaps one day I will remember.  Most likely at the oddest time – in the produce section of Metro, pulling weeds from the garden, trying to recall the lyrics to Boot Scootin’ Boogie or waking after one of my crazy pregnant dreams at 2 AM.

  • Me – What are you going to do if our baby girl grows up to have my boobs and your butt?

Fuzz – Get her a reality show.  She will be the next Kim Kardashian.

  • Fuzz – (Watching Storage Wars) If I was not already married to you, I would marry Barry.


All my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity.

So I realized something so incredibly geeky about myself today.  I know I’ve always registered quite high on the geekiness scale, but this realization may just rate me somewhere between Matthew Gray Gubler and Wil Wheaton.  Which, to me, isn’t such a bad thing because I cannot think of anything better than being sandwiched between the two of them.

Okay, so are you ready for it?  It occurred to me today that I can relate anything to a Simon and Garfunkel lyric.  Sad….but true.  In fact, the title of this post is a Simon and Garfunkel lyric and if you look back to one of the titles of the past posts, you will find yet another Simon and Garfunkel lyric.  I simply cannot help myself.  The lyrics seem to be one of the first things that pop in my head when searching for a title.  Sure, it may be four decades late in the “cool” department but isn’t Mad Men also helping to bring back the 60s?

The realization came today after I took an Instagram photo of my constant companion – the logo on the Starbucks cup.  You can usually find it glued to my hand.  What was the first thing that came to my mind when writing a caption?  “Hello Siren, my old friend.”  I know.  I might as well just put a flashing “GEEK” sign on my forehead.  Remarkably, my equally geeky cousin joined in the fun with the most appropriate response “I’ve come to slurp with you again.”  That there just made my day….and now I am counting down the days that she will be visiting my neck of the woods again.  We have a night of dress-up Catan planned.

I better go and plan my costume……any suggestions?  Maybe I will play some Simon and Garfunkel for inspiration.


Attachment Parenting: So what?

Since it was a holiday here in Canada, I was home to (un?)fortunately to catch some  day time TV.  Anderson Cooper’s talk show had guests speaking about attachment parenting.  He spoke with the mother that was recently featured on the Time magazine cover breastfeeding her toddler and interviewed Mayim Bialik about her attachment parenting book.  True to his journalistic nature, Anderson also interviewed a doctor that argued that attachment parenting is severely detrimental to children.

While I may not be a hard-core practitioner of attachment parenting, I simply do not believe that attachment parenting would screw up my child forever. Nor do I believe that any parent trying to raise a well-rounded healthy child would be a detriment to their child.  I find it almost insulting that someone would imply that.  I cannot even imagine what my ancestors must have felt like when paternalistic people and organizations were sweeping in to better “parent” their children and take them to residential school.  I was upset just listening to this guy spout off how a parenting style would lead to a scarred child.

Aboriginal people have been breastfeeding and carrying their babies in cradleboards, moss bags, and amautiit for thousands of years. Co-sleeping was the norm.  I’m willing to bet that these children all grew up to be healthy, functional members of society before someone stepped in to tell them that their parenting methods were wrong.  Attachment parenting is not a new thing.  It has been around for thousands of years – and not only in humans but also our animal relations.

I’m pretty sure that my child is going to be quite well adjusted despite breastfeeding for 14 months (which I would have continued if he didn’t self-wean).  I’m pretty sure that he will not become a tax evader because I carried him in a baby carrier when I shopped or did chores around the house.  I’m pretty sure that he will not become a copycat Dexter because I lay with him every night until he falls asleep.

I try very hard not to criticize other parenting styles.  Why is it so hard for others to do the same?  Does it really affect your life if your neighbour breastfeeds her 4 year old? If your niece sleeps between your brother and his partner?  If your co-worker sleep trains her child?  Bottle feeds?  If a celebrity pre-chews food for her son?

Sure, you may think it is weird to bring a baby to scenic caves.  Aboriginal kids pretty much go everywhere parents do and their parents are still minding their children’s safety.  You may think it is weird that I still plan to lay with my child until he falls asleep after having a second child.  I will just take the baby in my son’s room with me, breastfeed and try to soothe her to sleep at the same time.  Sure, you may think it is weird that I allow my child to do some things that you deem to be inappropriate like help out in the kitchen.  Just because he is a toddler doesn’t mean that he has to stay clean and cannot learn age appropriate skills.  You may think it is weird that I do not force my child to eat everything we put before him.  We allow him to make choices before we make the meal and if he doesn’t eat it then we try again at the next meal.

It’s not a crime to model behaviour rather than impose it.  It’s not a crime to allow a child some choice.  It’s not a crime to provide gentle guidance and not be afraid to allow them mistakes.  Why judge me for it?  I’m happy if you do your own research and make the choice that is best for you and your family.

Thankfully Fuzz has relatively the same parenting style as myself.  Co-parenting would be much more difficult if were not on the same wavelength.  In fact, we were able to celebrate a milestone this evening due to our shared parenting style.  Our newly turned 2-year-old son had his first pee on the potty! We have never forced the potty training or even talked about it at great length.  We keep his potty in our bathroom and we bring him in the bathroom with us when we went in.  We would provide a play-by-play of our actions (without being too descriptive, of course.  That’s just gross – haha!)  Usually, he would just come in and sit on his potty with his pants on, we would give him toilet paper to pretend, he would close and flush and then he would use the potty as a stool to wash his hands.  He eventually progressed to sitting down with his diaper off.  Tonight he surprised us by going into the bathroom, wanting his pants down, sitting on the potty and peeing!  He then followed his routine by closing, flushing and washing his hands – all with his cheering parents on the sidelines.

If that is not a testament to our parenting style, then I don’t know what is!


Fuzzisms #2 – The Vagina Monologues

A lot of people have commented that my recent blog posts have been bringing on the tears.  How’s this for some comic relief?

Fuzz – When is the last time you had a hair cut?
Me – It was so long ago that I do not remember.
Fuzz – Are you going to get a fancy new haircut for when you deliver the baby?
Me – Probably not, I don’t really care what I will look like.
Fuzz – Maybe you should get your toes done *NB – a friend is going to be a first-time Mom and she recently asked us if she should get her toes done for her delivery.
Me – Yeah, that’s not going to happen either.
Fuzz –  When she asked that I wanted to say “no one is going to care what your toes look like when a big fat head is tearing through your vagina”


Me – The marking on Hennessy’s back looks like a humming bird.  NB – Hennessy is our Basset Hound.
Fuzz – It looks like thong underwear to me.
Me – It could also pass for the Sorting Hat from Harry Potter.
Fuzz – It looks like a vagina and fallopian tubes.
Me – I think you just like saying the word vagina.

Enjoy the long weekend!


Good Night Sweet Princess

This week we had to say goodbye to one of our animal friends. Audrey was a beagle that we adopted from the local shelter 5 years ago. Since her second family surrendered her, her history was spotty at best. All that we knew was that she was originally named Chloe and her second family changed that name to Daisy. We named her Audrey Hepburn as her kohl-rimmed eyes and small frame made her look like she was fit to star with Fred Astaire in Funny Face. She had a penchant for eating Kleenex and loved kids despite occasionally chewing their plastic toys. She was obsessed with the cat. She was a sweet, gentle dog that had so much patience with our son.


We woke one morning in 2009, and Audrey was unable to walk. Her back end was completely paralyzed. We brought her to our local vet who in turn sent us to a specialist in Toronto. Apparently two of her thoracic vertebrae had hardened and burst chalky deposits putting pressure on her spinal cord. Without the recommended surgery, her spine cord would atrophy and die. While the surgery was very expensive (particularly on the reserve where it would have been the cost of a bullet), we decided that we liked the odds of an 80% success rate. I also could not consciously buy anything for myself ever again knowing that I did not do all that I could do to help her. We considered ourselves lucky that we had the money available to spend on the surgery.

She spent two weeks recovering in the fancy-shmancy Rosedale veterinary hospital and we brought her home for a long 6-week recovery. We carried her up and down stairs, massaged her leg muscles and did mobility exercises so that her strength would return. Her hair eventually grew back and she was ready to join our pack again. Our other two dogs were happy that a pesky dog gate no longer separated them from Audrey.

While she sometimes had days where her back end was really stiff, most days were filled with doggy happiness after the surgery. This past week, however, we noticed that she was starting to appear lamer and lamer. She had periods where she would shake and pant anxiously with pain. We took her to the emergency veterinarian where we ended her suffering. Although I had worked in a veterinary hospital and have done the same with my 18-year old childhood dog, it was not any easier. It was hard to see Fuzz suffer, as it was him who she ran up to and planted a huge kiss on that day we went to adopt a dog from the shelter. We didn’t choose her, she chose him.

We thank everyone that sent us kind words of condolences. It was truly appreciated as we lost an important part of our family. Our son has been walking around looking for Audrey. Our other dogs were howling and have spent most of the time sleeping. Fuzz is actually angrier than usual (who would have thought was possible?) and I have done my fair share of ugly cries. It will be an adjustment for all of us. While we did receive some off the mark comments such as “well at least you have one less dog to care for”, most people were sympathetic and we are thankful.

After reflecting on all that had happened this week, I was reminded of a story that my Granny had told me. She had told me that the dog lost the ability to speak after humans had rescued them. Although dogs and humans could never communicate verbally again, they would always maintain a special inter-species relationship and the dog would remain forever loyal – so loyal that a dog would sacrifice their own life to protect that of their human companion. I think I take comfort in the fact that maybe that’s just what Audrey was doing for us.


The Ugly Cry

Most of us are aware of the ugly cry.  The Urban Dictionary states that you know you are doing the ugly cry when you lose complete control of the muscles in your face, start heaving and making awkward sounds (even though you are trying to be silent), and start leaking fluids from every opening of your face.  Since I am almost seven months pregnant, the ugly cry comes very easily these days.  Although some people would insist that I really do not need pregnancy hormones to do the ugly cry – just ask the folks that went to the see the move Philadelphia with me.

So I pretty much did the unthinkable the other day.  Something that I always try to avoid doing. 

I did the ugly cry at work.  Seriously.

I could not help it because I was not just among colleagues but truly among friends (and the Urban Dictionary also says that women often do the ugly cry in the company friends). 

I work for an Aboriginal program that provides support to the spiritual, emotional, intellectual and physical development of Aboriginal children, while supporting their first teachers – parents and guardians.  I LOVE this program.  A lot.  I talk about it all the time.  I promote it all the time.  I wrote academic papers on it and conducted evaluations to highlight its success. 

At a recent gathering, we were asked to speak about why we do what we do, what our inspiration was as well as to bring a physical representation of it.  I brought a picture of my own son smudging.  This picture represented why I love the program.  The program allows children (some are the same age as my son) the opportunity to learn about their culture and language while addressing their health, social development and education.  I can see the pride in my son when he smudges or dances at powwows and I think about all those other children that can now experience the same.


Over the past five years, the program staff have grown to become friends and family.  Living so far away from my own community, they have become my community.  They have taught me so much.  I am so thankful for that because I can in turn teach it to my son.  With so much that taken from us as people, this program is giving it back.  Words cannot express how much that means to me….I suppose only the ugly cry can.


Fuzzisms – The Debut

Those of you that know my husband, know that that the most ridiculous things come out of his mouth. What makes these “Fuzzisms” (as they are now affectionately called) most funny is that he is usually not meaning to be funny. At all. We’re talking dead-pan serious.

I have been compiling a list of Fuzzisms to draw from now that I have an additional forum to share his ridiculousness. After toying with the best format, I decided that Fuzzisms will be a recurring post. Each post will have two unheard Fuzzisms with one classic that has been well shared among our family members.


  • Me – I know that it anatomically and biologically impossible, but do you think Marlin and Dory from Finding Nemo become more than just friends?

Fuzz – Nah, I don’t think so. Dory seems like a lesbian to me.

  • Fuzz was coerced to endure watching my new favourite show “The Chew”

Chef Micheal Symon – I love lamb.

Fuzz – Did he just say I love lamp?

Me – ; No! He said I love lamb…as in lamb chops.

Fuzz – Oh, I thought it was like Ron Burgandy’s “I love lamp” but the chef version. Do you really love lamb? Or are you just saying it because you are cooking it?

  • Chatting on Skype with my Dad.

My Dad – What kind of engineer is your brother’s girlfriend?

Fuzz – I don’t know. Something to do with rocks. I’ll text Cujo (our pomeranian, not his brother) to find out.

Me – Cujo? Really?

Fuzz – Yeah, I’m pretty sure that Cujo is not going to know. Even if he did would he text me back with his tiny paws on his tiny little phone?