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I live in Montreal, Quebec, and my first language is French.

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Friday, May 29, 2009

Fresh, local asparagus...


…are in season! Their stalks are very thin, and they are especially crisp and flavorful.

It seems my love for asparagus is only matched by the Europeans. Now these people know how to appreciate a great vegetable. I remember when I was living in Germany and suddenly all restaurants went into an asparagus (Spargel) frenzy, and they were just everywhere in the menus, with hordes of people waiting in line to taste them. Come to think of it, somewhere in my kitchen drawers lies a memento from these days, in the form of an asparagus-shaped Spargel peeler. I was impressed, because, hey, you really have to be serious about something to come up with such a tool.

One day while on vacation with friends in San Sebastian, Spain (one of my favorite cities ever), we were enjoying a glass of wine or two at this pintxos (tapas) bar. None of us knew any Basque and so we had picked something from the menu at random. I can’t remember what I ended up with, squid maybe, but my poor friend Chantale was presented with this huge plate solely containing a few kilos of very salty, greasy, grilled asparagus. Which she doesn’t even like. I think I peed myself laughing.

There was one summer when I was 24 when all I did was to read Marcel Proust’s À la recherche du temps perdu (Remembrance of Things past) seven-novel series. It was supposed to be research for my master’s degree thesis, but who are we kidding. And I remember this one party where I couldn’t stop talking to this guy I really liked about how Proust was able to turn the scatological into the poetical, referring to asparagus as “delicious creatures morphed into vegetables, playing their Shakespearean fairy comedy by changing his chamber pot into a perfume vase”. What a dork I was. Needless to say we never hooked up.

Here’s my favorite way to cook them. It’s deliciously spring-like and sharp and vibrant! Simple enough for a weeknight, but special enough for company.

Lemon-asparagus pasta (Serves 4)

1 package bow-tie pasta

1 bunch fresh asparagus, cut into large chunks

Juice and zest of 2-3 lemons, depending on how lemony you want it

3 tablespoons butter

¾ cup light cream

1 small package smoked salmon or trout (about 200 grams or half a pound), sliced into small pieces

Freshly grated parmesan

Freshly chopped parsley (you can also add fresh dill, although in moderation, since it’s a bit overpowering)

Cook the pasta. Steam the asparagus chunks for a few minutes, then remove from heat and reserve (you want to avoid overcooking them). In a large frying pan, melt the butter with the cream over medium heat. Add the zest and juice, then the asparagus, tossing to coat. Crank up the heat to high. Add the pasta and the fish to the pan and toss until heated through. Add salt and pepper to taste. Transfer to plates, then top with parmesan and parsley. Enjoy!

Thursday, May 28, 2009

A few more pictures...

...taken by my mother-in-law. We're supposed to pick up the DVD containing our "official" ones on Friday. I can't wait!











Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Da food







Since I haven't seen my pictures yet (except for about 7 of them which look incredibly promising), I thought I would start by posting about something both very important and not incredibly visual-dependent: what we ate!

On Friday, two days before the wedding, the three of us plus my mom went to Costco and to the farmer’s market (eclectic isn’t) to pick up all the food we needed (as well as the flowers). On Saturday, the day before, we spent a lovely day preparing everything. We made tons of hors d’oeuvres for 40 people, putting a real emphasis on presentation (using all kinds of little herbs sprigs, sprouts, tiny lime zests, etc.) It was great, we were efficient and totally relaxed, and I wouldn’t have traded it for a caterer for the world (actually we were joking we should start a catering business together). My mom and I, that’s what we love to do together, that’s what we’re good at. Cooking and baking is our way to connect and how we prepare for every holiday, birthday and occasion, so why should this one have been different?

We had:

Platters:

-Sushi (only thing we didn’t make ‘coz it couldn’t be done a day ahead)

-Modern and funky crudités (think purple carrots, black heirloom cherry tomatoes, orange cauliflower, etc.) with curry dip

-Fine cheeses with grapes, fresh figs, miniature pears and various nuts

-Patés with capicollo and salami, along with ciabatta and baguette.

Hors d’oeuvres:

-Foie gras with onion confit

-Duck confit and herbed soft cheese on garlic croutons

-Quail eggs and caviar

-Shrimp on puff pastry

-Tuna tartare in Asian porcelain spoons

-Greek salad in small blue and yellow Chinese takeout boxes

-Bocconcini-tomato-melon skewers

-Smoked salmon with dill cream cheese

-Black Forest ham and pesto wrap bites

-Prosciutto, lettuce, blue cheese, dates and toasted pecans roll-ups

-Smoked salmon mousse in fried mini tortilla cups.

And for dessert, we had really cute and delicious mini-cupcakes on a piece de resistance stand that looked like a million bucks (but cost less than $100 total).




Everyone raved about the food and we felt so great and proud about it. The grand total for everything (including sushi and cupcakes) was a little over $550 ($245 at Costco, but we had a $175 rewards rebate we had saved for the occasion, about $100 at the market, $150 at the grocery store (including sushi, yes, I’m not ashamed to admit it, it has an amazing sushi counter that rivals good restaurants. Sushi-wise things are not what they used to be!), and $75 for the cupcakes).

I couldn't thank my mom enough for helping me out with this. She's such a great cook and it was a complete success! We had plenty of stuff leftover (brought home by family and friends) and lots of things we didn't even use (crackers, cheese, veggies, cold cuts in sealed packages), so as an added bonus, we didn't have to run to the store the minute we came back home.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

LP's wedding and "vacation week"


We didn’t exactly emphasize to LP that we were leaving for a week without him. We did say we were going away and would come back soon, but we focused on the fact that he was going on a vacation too, to Quebec City with his grandparents. We packed his little suitcase with him, we told him he could choose which books and toys to bring, and we kept repeating all the fun things he would do (go to the park, try out the new swing they bought just for him, etc.) It totally did the trick. When we left on Sunday night after the wedding we were both a little crushed, but he was just so excited to be riding in grandpa’s car. In fact, when he was already seated we went to give him one last little kiss and while we expected hysterical tears, instead he was so ready to go and kept saying “Shut the door mommy, shut the door…”

He had a great week, made some potty training progress with my mom (I wonder if she just kept him on the potty for two days straight or what?) and had plenty of stories to share. Here are the little things I wanted to write down for later.

The day before the wedding, in the car with his dad coming back from the orchard (they went to drop off stuff and see if everything was set up properly). M: “What are we doing tomorrow?” LP: “Tomorrow is the wedding. And I will cry.” M, surprised: “Why are you going to cry?” LP: “Because tomorrow mommy will cry.” (I didn’t, and neither did he).

During the five-minute drive from the orchard to the restaurant, the only time we were alone together during the wedding day. LP, breaking the blissful silence: “Ahhhhh... The wedding was fun.”

Arriving at my mom’s house after two days with his paternal grandparents, casually informing her: “Maman et papa sont partis en voyage d’amoureux” (Mommy and daddy went on a lovers trip).

To my mom, the next day: “Where’s mommy?” Grandma: “She’s in Mexico with your dad!” LP: “Ah, yeah, that’s right. With her wedding gown.”

Really annoyed by her bad English accent while she read him a story, he told her off: “Non, pas Nou-yorke, New York (with a proper accent)!”

My in-laws brought him to the supermarket, were he took one of these little child-size carts for the first time, and therefore could put whatever he wanted in it. I was really curious to see what he chose: one apple, the brand of yogurt I usually get, unsweetened fruit juice boxes, Heinz ketchup, and tzatziki. Apparently he was actually looking for hummus, which he prefers, and asked around for it, but couldn’t find it. That’s my boy!

Monday, May 25, 2009

Back, married and flu-free!

Hey! Finally home! We've had a lovely trip to Mexico, which was everything we expected it to be, albeit just a little short. But we missed our son terribly and so for the first time I didn't feel so bad about leaving, because home and real life had never seemed sweeter.

So I had promised MY HUSBAND (I love saying that) that I wouldn't check on the blog or my email for the entire week, and I've missed you all a lot! Can't wait to see what's been going on.

But first.

The wedding was incredible. It really didn't go as I expected, since the weather was so bad (just a couple of degrees above the freezing point and SO windy), but all the better. We didn't spend one minute in the tent, but rather moved inside in the orchard's tasting room. After going back and forth with the idea we finally held the ceremony outside besides the blooming apple trees just like I had always dreamed. Yeah, so it was freezing, but I didn't care. Everyone was dressed warmly and we kept it short. The whole day was a bit of a blur, and over very quickly, but it was so fun! In all its quirkiness and imperfectness, everything was perfect and 100% us.

I just saw the first few pictures and they look amazing! Completely in tune with what I remember from it: very vibrant colors, sheer joy and infinite love. I just wanted to share a couple with you now, but I promise, they'll be more.





(You can have a glimpse at my bouquet here, -which I've made myself-, including small branches from my own lilac tree!)

I will of course post about all of it again, but right now I'm so wiped, the house is in a crazy state of chaos, and LP really wants his mommy. I will try to return to my daily posting routine as soon as I can, but please be patient this week, as I don't have any scheduled post prepared (yeah that's usually pretty much my secret) and it might take me a couple of days to get back to normal.

In the meantime:


We're FRIGGIN' MARRIED guys! How cool is that?! Hurray!!!!!!!!

Monday, May 18, 2009

Honeymoon-related intermission

[scheduled post]
Flying to Cancun this morning, via New York. Hopefully back on the 24th with updates and pics!

Sunday, May 17, 2009

I just woke up...

After spending half the night listening to the very strong winds blasting like they usually only do in the winter. At one point M and I realized we were both awake, and started hugging and joking around. "This is our wedding day!"

So it's official: weatherwise, it's awful. It's not raining, but it's cloudy and almost freezing and there's that wind I hate so much. This means we'll be confined in the tent, probably unable to enjoy these blossoms much! We'll have to wait until the last minute to see if we can even do the ceremony outside, and yeah, pictures with crazy hair!!!

But you know what? None of this matters at this point. In a couple of hours, people we really care about will show up, having come from as far away as California, to see us officially join our lives. Hopefully the women will wear warm sweaters or shrugs on top of their formal dresses, and no one will suffer from hypothermia. Do you think it's possible that our love and joy alone could keep us all warm? I'd like to think so.

Let's go add rings to these fingers.

Friday, May 15, 2009

I think now we have everything



Exhausting but fun day of running around. We have fine cheeses and pates, foie gras, fresh tuna, smoked salmon, smoked duck breast, sushi, caviar, shrimp, beautifully fresh fruit and veggies, etc. In small quantities, obviously, otherwise we would have broken the bank. That's the beauty of a small wedding I think.

It's beautiful out, off I go to enjoy a glass of wine on the patio.

My man


M and I are not one of those perfect couples. Well, to tell you the truth I'm not even sure that these couples really exist, or if it's only a surface image they project.

We love each other like crazy, we can't get our hands off of each other when we don't have a kid to take care of, we are always able to find this genuine emotional and intellectual connection we've had from the beginning, and we are a lot alike.

But we are also different and need our space and (sometimes!) snap and bicker and nag and have fallouts. We disagree, we argue (and let me tell you it's not easy doing that with someone who went to law school) and we fight, mostly about what a lot of people must fight about: kiddo, money, housework... I mostly choose not to write about it, because you never know how it could be interpreted and it's not what I want to document for later...

The idyllic honeymoon period of our relationship lasted nearly two years. Then, without much transition, it pretty much came to a screeching halt when we were suddenly handed a baby. Tough on any couple, but LP was a really fussy baby to boot. And this had a way of making our overemotional selves melt down into a puddle of helplessness, worry and negative feelings.

For a while it wasn't pretty. I could never say we had serious, root core problems, but we kinda turned on each other. One day when LP was four months old and had been hopelessly wailing all day (that kind of bawling that made two different, not immediate neighbors come knocking on our door just to see if everything was alright), we completely lost it (in front of my mother!) and started screaming at each other in public, then I turned my back and casually mentioned to her that I didn't think we would last through the year.

Of course that's not what we wanted, but instead I guess we just nursed a classic case of slightly drifting apart for a little bit. It's so easy and insidious, after all. It just happened, I don't know why or how. It's weird to think about it now, now that we've gone all the way around again, in a puppy love stage of leaving each other cheesy little notes and me being totally excited about buying cute frilly underthings just for him to see on our honeymoon.

Rebecca Woolf blogged about it recently in a post called "The Almost Divorce", in which she confesses the many struggles her husband and she had before finally finding their happy place. Her unabashed honesty is so great, because it made me feel that our own less-than-glorious moments were not abnormal or shameful. It made me reflect on our own relationship a lot, about how I think we also more or less consciously came to the same conclusion she did: that with kids in tow it was really important to try your best at making it work, not staying together "just for them" and faking it -which is actually probably one of the worst examples you can give them-, but earnestly give it your best shot. As a child of divorce, I've always told myself that the single most important thing I wanted to achieve in life was to succeed at my relationship, and give my child(ren) an example of a positive relationship. So simple, yet so infinitely complex, right?

So through time and tries and compromise and a lot of listening and teary, sincere talks, we've found our happy place again as well, and I feel so ready to take the next step. I am so in love with him now, so happy to have him, so proud of having chosen him, so giddy for what's to come. I feel we are really strong... Although I will always fondly remember the perfect beginning of our relationship, I think our bond is so much deeper now. I'm really glad in the end that we waited to get married, because I feel my position as a bride is completely different than it would have been if we had gotten hitched soon after we met. An initial hopefulness that we could withstand through thick and thin has changed into an almost certitude that we can. We'll never be perfect. We'll most probably have other tougher periods. We'll try to reinvent ways of being happy to have each other. Come what may, we're in this together.

As part of paperwork we needed to fill to get married, we each needed to write about how we met and what we love about each other. Here are excerpts of what he came up with (and which completely made me melt):

I think she's simply brilliant and stunning. I always knew I wanted to be with her, and tried to spend as much time as possible with her, until the day we finally did what should have happened way before: be together.

She's sensitive and pragmatic all at once. She's thoughtful but also lets herself be touched by life's little moments. Her heart is huge and she's involved in several causes, which are all very important to her. She's much stronger than she believes, and much more beautiful than she thinks she is. Her devotion for LP and I is infinite.

I am so lucky that in a couple of days, I'll be able to call this man my husband. Because after all, the marriage is so much more important than the wedding.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

My co-workers are the best




No, seriously, they are. That absolutely friggin' fantastic 4-feet-tall bouquet even contained, yeah, you guessed it.

Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good

E-mail from the orchard. Full blossoming time is now expected this weekend.

OMG we're there

Today is my last day of work.
My mom is arriving tonight.
The bags are semi-packed.
My stress is now mostly gone.
I'm rather leaning towards not being able to stop smiling, and holding back my tears of joy.
Tomorrow we're picking up the flowers and the food, and start making this come together.
The rest will all be a blur I'm sure...

Quick little updates: as of now, the weather forecast for Sunday is overcast with some scattered showers, and a slightly chilly 12 degrees (53 F). But honestly if that's my biggest problem, I'll take it!

M suggested I bring my gown to Mexico, so we can do an after shoot on the beach, in the jungle, and so on. This will be fun! Except my suitcase is totally full already with bikinis and sundresses.

I'll probably add a few branches from one of my lilac trees (I've got four) into my bouquet, since it's right about time. Purple wouldn't have worked in my colors, but my most beautiful one right now is white with double flowers, which will go great with yellow. I absolutely ADORE lilacs, and since I'm one of the few lucky brides getting married during their short season and having them readily available I figured I must find a way to use them...


Because to me their smell means complete happiness.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Good news!

The results from my MRI came in. It was indeed only a completely benign and harmless ganglion cyst. I don't have to have it removed, but I can if it bothers me (and it does). So I'll try to take care of that when I come back.

It was never particularly worrisome to the doctors, but really you never know and should always rule other possibilities out I think. Phew!

New little bits from LP


-Play dates have appeared in our life. Twice in the last few weeks, I found my house buzzing with the sound of children (our neighbors) playing, smiling to myself while I prepared dinner, thinking: "Our son is having friends over...!" LP is crazy about the three little girls who live nearby (ages 6, 5 and 4). They love him too, as they would a little pet monkey or cute doll I suppose!

-While he was playing with one of them in our driveway and she left to go back home, I heard him loudly scolding her:"Pas dans la rue! Y'a des autos!" (Not in the street! There are cars!) Glad to see that he was listening after all...

-The other night, after he called for me twice, I found him sitting on the bed, not fully awake, telling me that he needed his shoes right now. I gave him back his paci (which he still has for sleeping) and he just immediately passed out again. So talking in your sleep does seem to be genetically transmitted (I would be guilty of that since childhood).

-Last week when I tried on my wedding gown for a last fitting (OK, just because I felt like it), he ran to the home office and brought back his father's tripod, which he placed in front of me and started doing a "click!" sound, as if taking pictures! Who the hell told him you were supposed to do that?

-And of course, the bit he'll find really embarrassing when he's 16: while talking on the phone about picking up my wedding cupcake stand I absentmindedly took off my burgundy wedges with grosgrain ribbon bows and left them in the middle of the kitchen. What do you know, a few minutes later I hang up and hear this loud clatter. And LP is walking towards me wearing my too-big girly shoes, goofing off and feeling very proud about his comedic skills...

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

The home stretch

Wedding fast approaching... Everything is under control, but I wish I could be cooler about all of this. I'm a little stressed in spite of myself. And when I try to rationalize it, I find no specific reason... It's just the way I am I guess. Another good reason for not having a very large and elaborate wedding: I think I would have had a heart attack. The thought of doing this in New York (which was our original plan) now seems ludicrous to me, because how could I have handled everything from afar? I barely noticed that it was Mother's Day, shame on me...

I received my first wedding gift, and I thought it was a fantastically clever idea: a bridal emergency kit. A little metal cosmetics case just like the pros have, stocked with everything you can imagine to handle any mishap with total brio, from personal hygiene items, to pain reliever, stain remover, nail glue, double-sided tape, etc. There are even fake plastic rings in there in case you forget them (at first I laughed, but then I thought it probably happens all the time).

My worrying about the trees (it has been confirmed full blossoming will not happen before the 20th, but we may still have a few flowers here and there) has mostly shifted to bad weather now. I always said I was OK with not having a gorgeous day, but the last weekend has been so crappy I realized that there's a world of difference between a so-so day with perhaps a few rain drops and a totally miserable day of non-stop wind and pouring cold rain!

Other than that, I am not forgetting that the real purpose of all this is actually marrying that great guy. Carpe diem!

Monday, May 11, 2009

The tortoise and the hare

(1919 Milo Winter illustration)

This image came to my mind the other night while we were running and I was cursing M's natural abilities again, while my own physical fitness level remains jokingly unimpressive, even as I try and work at it real hard. Even if he rarely exercises, I simply can never keep up with him, and it would be great, once in a while, not to feel like I'm still that sucky kid picked last for the dodge ball team like in grade school.

But hey, what do you know, for the first time, M got stopped by a sudden cramp and shortness of breath, and I did pass him over, with my perhaps slow, but nonetheless efficient and steady pace. The hare does not always win.

And because what can you do when you run except thinking? I started reflecting that I was indeed the tortoise from the story, not just for running, but for life in general. I finished up school late (at the rip old age of 27), even though it was mostly because I took a nearly two-year sabbatical from my graduate degree. And even then, when I started my first real job at 24, I was still not that young, I never had the feeling that I was this fresh up-and-comer arriving to shake things up. There were a bunch a 19/20 years-old in my department, and compared to them and their partying lifestyle, I already felt old and settled into a very adult life. (Ever had that feeling you were old when in retrospect, you realize you definitely weren't? It's the worst ever, all this sheer pure youth wasted for nothing, never to come back. I keep getting that feeling, I keep telling myself I was the stupidest person on Earth for that one night in Paris when I was 22, and as we were walking by the Seine someone had this flight of enthusiasm and shouted that life was wonderful! That we were young and carefree and in Paris and everything was possible! And instead of saying yes! you're right!!!, and fully bask in the moment and propose that we get drunk on absinthe or something I had this nearly-jaded smirk and thought to myself: "wow, lucky him for feeling this way.")

In my social circle, I was pretty much the last one to have kids, finally getting pregnant as everyone was having their second one. The last one to have a car, a house, and a retirement savings account. I was also the last one to meet the right guy, and will be the last one to marry (OK, in all fairness I did get married at 25 so I could temporarily move to Germany, and I divorced at 27, which partly explains all of the above). In comparison, my friend Chantale has been married for nine years already! That's kind of crazy.

I've been telling everyone I wanted to be a writer since I was about 6 years old. I've taken all the classes in university, gotten some coaching, received persistent encouragement for my burgeoning talent, mingled with the milieu, and befriended people who did turn out to become "real" writers living from their art (at the very least her and her). But I did nothing, completely paralyzed by fear. And then, this blog sneaked up on me, and now I can't shut up. We're still far from "the great whatever novel", but I nonetheless call that major progress, and I think I have found my niche, surprisingly in a language I never really spoke until I was about 17 years old.

My point is even if I tend to take a long time crossing that finish line, I still do cross it. Wanting and needing to do things my own way does not only pertain to my upcoming wedding; I guess I've always been like that. I may not have been an early-bloomer, but in the end I did find myself right here, in that place where I feel I could never ask for anything more that what this life gave me.

The hare does not always win.

Friday, May 8, 2009

We're going to Mexico anyway (and you can't stop us)!

So here we are, 9 days before the wedding, 10 days before the honeymoon. We didn't change our travel plans, mostly because we were both busy with other stuff and because we were not really excited about any of the airline's other alternatives.

But we recently had this crazy idea: let's not change the plans at all.

Yeah yeah you're probably thinking are you people mentally challenged lunatics???? What about the flu???? And of course, I guess this first instinct is natural, because of the panic wave and disproportionate media coverage. But let me explain our reasons and logic to you. And be assured that we are not lunatics, but rather people who always think things through.

-The situation is getting back to normal in Mexico, and the number of cases is stabilizing, while the official number of deaths keeps decreasing (it was way overestimated to begin with).

-The number of cases, deaths, and the severity of the H1N1 strain do not appear to be higher than those of the regular seasonal flu (which, let’s not forget, kills about 5,000 people in Canada and 35,000 people in the US annually).

-500 cases in Mexico City is a ludicrously small number for a megalopolis of 20,000,000 people.

-There are probably more cases in New York right now than in the region of Mexico where we’re going (which is 1,200 km away from the capital).

-The World Health Organization, the ultimate authority, does not advise on canceling traveling plans.

-The US’ Center for Diseases Control says that it’s probably not the best idea to go to Mexico City right now, but that planned trips to Cancun need not be canceled. They also say that the plane trip and the transit is probably actually "riskier" than spending time there, which means the relative risk would still be there wherever we chose to go.

-In my office we work closely with a branch near Mexico City, and people travel back and forth all the time (which means that in theory, I could have already been exposed multiple times since it started in March), with no reported sickness whatsoever.

-Hundreds of people just coming back from the Riviera Maya (including a couple of my Facebook friends who completely reassured me) are all fine, talk of a wonderful trip and didn’t even really realize what was going on while there.

-We are totally in love with the resort, the country and its rich culture, and think the probable quietness would be an added bonus for our honeymoon!

-The airport in Cancun is scanning passengers with a body heat detector, which significantly reduces the risk of us sharing a plane ride with a sick person.

-In terms of absolute risks, it's way more likely that you'll catch malaria and die from it, yet people don't talk about it and don't stop traveling to destinations where it's prevalent (including my own father, a doctor, who happens to be really keen on unusual vacation destinations)

-We are not the only people thinking that mass hysteria and paranoia are generally not a great indicator of rationality and truth!

So there. As of now, we’re going. We’ll be really careful, use common sense, crank up the hygiene measures, bring lots of hand sanitizer, and hope for the best! I'm not laughing at people's concern, I myself am not completely worry-free, especially because of my child, but there's a big part of me that knows this crisis is overblown, plus M and I have always refused to live in fear or teach our son that this attitude is OK. We should never forget chances are it will be fine!




Would you just look at that place??? (Pictures from Expedia).

Thursday, May 7, 2009

Two things that made me cry

There’s this older man I really respect and like at the office (in a mentor-type way). He’s traveling most of the time so he’s not often around, but when he is he always stops by to be updated on my son and wedding plans.

He was born in Chile in a very affluent family, where his father was a well-respected surgeon. In 1973, when he was a teenager, they had to flee the country, and ended up starting over again from nothing in France, where they faced a lot of ostracism. In the end love for the woman who is now the mother of his children brought him here in Montreal, while his father eventually resumed his medical career and now works as a consultant for the WHO in Washington.

Because we were talking about specific wedding rituals this morning, he showed me his wedding band, in which a date in the 1950s was inscribed. He then proceeded to tell me that this was his father’s wedding ring. Why are you wearing his, I asked?

When he learned that he had bladder cancer four years ago (he’s now in remission), he asked his father if they could exchange wedding bands. He says wearing it reminds him at all times of the strength and perseverance of his own father, and how he should model his attitude after his.

---------------------

Even before I had a child, there were several kids who were really important in my life. For instance, the bright and wonderful children from the second grade class I tutored for a year more than a decade ago, as part of the best student job I’ve ever had (for the Montreal Education Board, in a school located in an underprivileged, multicultural neighborhood).

But without a doubt the most important one was B, who was once my niece by marriage. From a few months after she was born to her 6th birthday, she was a constant source of happiness in my life, and we were incredibly close. Never seeing her again after the divorce was really hard, and for years after I’ve had many nights when I awoke in hysterical tears because I had been dreaming of her. I still think about her often, wondering how she’s doing, what she looks like… Wondering if she’ll ever forgive me for letting her down like that and never saying goodbye.

Her father is now separated from my former sister-in-law, and just had a second child with his new partner. And as I unsuspectedly opened my Facebook page this morning, there was a picture of her, pensive, half-smiling, holding her newborn brother into her arms. Not a preschooler like she had always stayed in my memory, but a beautiful, blue-eyed twelve year-old.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Meaningless, inoffensive apple blossoms are bound to break my heart

So this week I'm basically hanging on to a thread, alternating between day-to-day-life-related oblivion (I still need to change diapers, put LP to bed every night, ensure that my consulting company's taxes are filed, attend parent-teacher meetings at daycare, purchase presents for a friends' kid birthday party and my nephew's christening which fall on the same day right after we come back, etc.) and little moments of panic. These moments occur when I don't feel occupied and in control, usually when I'm stuck in traffic or when I wake up too early in the morning. I don't panic about the wedding in itself or the fact that I'm marrying M. It's not cold feet at all, how could it be when we're already so deeply committed? I panic about stupid little things. Like how we're going to be able to get there early enough and have everything set up and ready for 2 PM next Sunday, knowing that we won't come back home for a week after and that we cannot forget anything. How everyone will be able to make it on time and not get lost -don't laugh, it's pretty far from civilization. But most of all, I worry about the apple trees blossoming.

So OK it's a relatively minor thing. Even if the trees are not in bloom, the springtime outdoor setting will still be nice, and everyone will still be able to enjoy the apple drinks the orchard produces. But we basically based the date on the probability of these blossoms, and I realize now how it matters to me. Because if it works out, it would not only be nice but truly magical and unforgettable, both in sight and smell...

Since here in the city we're very close to blossoming time, I began to be scared that if the process would actually happen too early, the delicate blossoms might not make it until the 17th (one big slightly windy rainfall and they're gone). The season has been so nice, my only concern was that we would be too far ahead this year.

I emailed them for reassurance, knowing that their biologists are usually able to predict the blossoming time pretty accurately. And I was very surprised when they said that it would likely be between the 17th and the 29th this year. I had not taken slight changes in climate into consideration. So in fact, our wedding day is the earliest day in their predicted range.

Maybe I'm being pessimistic, but I think it pretty much rules it out for us. I don't know how their calculation works, but it probably means that within this range, the highest probability is smack in the middle, with only a remote chance of it happening much earlier or later than that. Sigh...

When setting the date, we had a choice of two weekends, and we picked the 17th because the next day is a statutory holiday. Now I'm beginning to think we should have picked the next one to be more sure about those blossoms. I always knew that it could never be a sure thing, but I'm so disappointed nonetheless. To come so close and to not get it... Of course I know in the end it won't change a thing and it's not the reason why our guests will show up, but...

Here I am. I think it's really time this wedding happens. I'm turning into an obsessive whiny irrational bride just like the ones I laugh at on TV!

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

I thought it was a choice...

I heard this debate on the public radio last week which really made me mad! It was about alternatives to a highly medicalized childbirth, which I’m all for. But what I hated is how each of the panelists shared the same point of view: that having a positive birth experience in a hospital was nearly impossible.

If you want to give birth at home in a pool with a midwife, go ahead. One solution cannot always fit all, and I know some people have had many horrendous hospital experiences. But have we gone all around, is giving birth with a doctor present the new enemy?

I think the way women gave birth in hospitals in generations past was a bit ridiculous and against nature. The shaved pubes, the enemas, the unnecessary hyper-sanitization, the patronizing attitude towards the mother, the father waiting in another room, and especially, the keeping the babies apart from their mother, largely preventing breastfeeding, early bonding, and the establishment of the new family routine… But can you name one place where it’s still happening this way? In my experience and the one from women around me, tremendous work has been done to bridge the medical setting with good common sense as well as the preservation of the natural aspect...

I was incredibly afraid of childbirth, and I had been for years and years. It totally freaked me out. I am not physically strong, I have little endurance, and my threshold to pain is really low. I am also too emotional and will stress out and panic easily, against my own good will. I basically thought I wouldn’t survive the experience, much less keep positive memories of it. Today I think differently, but back then if I could have chosen to have an elective C-section under an amnesia-inducing anesthesia, I would have done it. There was no doubt in my mind that I would have an epidural, and although I was willing to give breastfeeding a try, I wasn’t much convinced.

And people, I had the greatest childbirth experience you can imagine –not to say that it was easy breezy, because of course it was not. But it was much, much less worse than I expected. And the hospital, the staff, and their whole philosophy was immensely humane and wonderful. Miles and miles away from all these horror stories you keep hearing of bullish, incompetent, and rude staff treating you like heads of cattle. They were attentive, relaxed, supportive and nice. They listened to us and let us take control. I gave birth in my own room, with all the people and equipment moving around to accommodate me, not the other way around. Medical interventions were kept at a minimum level, although I felt reassured to know that professionals were also ready to intervene at any moment.

My labor was not that difficult or long (about three bad hours and although it was certainly unpleasant, I don’t think it was the worst pain I’ve been into and the surprising thing for me was that in between contractions, I was back to my old self, pain-free and joking), but pushing was the toughie. When I asked for my epidural, I was fully dilated and it was time to push. They would have given it to me anyway, but at this point I knew it would likely slow things down and I figured we would be done in 20 minutes time, right? Mhh, not so. It took two and a half hours during which I really wanted to give up all the time and tell them to just come and grab LP out of me! The doctor would come once in a while for a few minutes, but mostly, it was just me, M and this wonderful nurse I will remember all my life. She was great, but she wasn’t letting me get away with my whining, knowing perfectly well how to encourage me but also making it clear that she wasn’t there to give me sympathy, that I needed to get myself together and get this baby out. Would women bashing hospital births have considered this rude? I hope not, because it was the perfect attitude to shake me out of this weird daze and finish this marathon. What do these women want, to be told that they don’t have to work hard? Are midwives only supposed to say that “you’re doing great!” –which that nurse did all the time too, by the way-, even if you’re not?

And the after was the best part. I was so proud of myself, having done a great job even without any medication! LP was put on my chest, all sticky and disgusting, in under one minute. He stayed there until we made him nurse, about 40 minutes later. We didn’t even wash him until the night came, and surprisingly, the goop was gone. Round the clock while at the hospital, we had support for nursing and monitoring of both him and me, but other than that everything was super chill and minimally intrusive.

It’s a given that women giving birth are not sick (one of the major points made by natural birth extremists), but even though the act is a highly natural one, it’s also one where many things can go wrong at each instant for both mother and child, even if you had a completely low-risk pregnancy. Hospital births have at least one indisputable merit: they have massively decreased the mortality rate. Even though everything went well for me, I still lost a lot of blood and quickly became dangerously anemic, and I’m so glad I was already where I could be hooked up on an IV and closely monitored, because in some cases, this could spell really bad news. The last thing I would have wanted was to being rushed to the ER at this point and maybe end up there too late.

Handle your birth the way you want, but don’t diss as a whole what is still the majority option (and the safest one in my opinion)! I hated hearing these women because it can only lead to more stress and fear in women about to give birth, making them doubt their choices and approach their experience negatively. Women are not lazy because they want epidurals (so I didn’t get one, but maybe I would if I ever do this again), and certainly not going against their nature because they want a hospital setting. It’s up to every woman to get informed, choose a hospital where the philosophy closely matches hers (I personally wouldn’t have wanted a university hospital with tons of intern checking me up), and to be assertive about what she wants.

And as an additional note to these women (not specifically home birthers because even though this choice is not mine I can respect it, but rather extremists who are there to take down every women who don’t share their point of view), you’re doing nothing for your own credibility when adding that whole orgasmic birth aspect to the mix. I’m no prude but to me this is totally the equivalent of those completely wacky people who sauteed and ate the placenta back in the day. I’m the first to agree that childbirth should not have to be so scary and tense, but come on. I don’t know about you, but climaxing is incredibly dependent on context, and relies at least as much on your brain than on your body. And as hard as I try, I simply can’t reconcile the two in this situation.

Monday, May 4, 2009

It's all happening...

Sunday morning. We spent yesterday at the (plant!) nursery, then gardening (or in LP's case, shoving dirt back and forth and leaving it everywhere). You know, just a usual weekend day, relaxed and happy. We're just entering my favorite time of the year, with the forsythias, hyacinths, and rhododendron in bloom, and our first tulips opening on this very day. I am making my daily rounds, checking on the progress of the rhubarb, the hydrangeas, the raspberry bushes, the lilacs, the peonies, and being amazed at how fast everything is growing right now!

But something is not entirely usual. I check on our dresser and there are two ring boxes, as well as a big flower headpiece. There's a big crate, full of little favor trinkets for the kids. There, a bag with tablecloths (made from the leftover fabric from my sash), paper napkins, a guestbook, containers for flowers... Giant paper pompoms in one corner. Three formal outfits already laid out on hangers, waiting to be steamed next week. Little Chinese take-out boxes, all neatly piled up. A very cheesy-looking folder containing all the paperwork... I hear LP in the living room with his dad, and in his little child's voice he's saying: " Ça c'est pour le mariage, pour le mariage..." (This is for the wedding...)

In two weeks we're getting married.

Right during this glorious period of the year, for me to remember each spring that comes by for the rest of my life.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Dear LP

I know most people don’t have kids before they marry. I myself had not necessarily planned it this way (although I must admit I didn’t necessarily plan the opposite either, it’s simply the way it happened and the way it felt right to us). But I wanted to take you aside and tell you (OK, lazily put it on my blog and hope that you’ll get to read it a few years from now) how much you being a part of the wedding, the planning, and the excitement is fantastic and heartwarming to me.

In fact, I appreciate so much that you’re there to witness it all, to add your grain of salt, even to prevent me from focusing on the wedding too much and constantly remind me of how lucky I am, since what most brides only dream of, I already have. At 2, you are definitely old enough to know what’s going on, and it’s often hilarious. Every time we ask you who’s going to marry soon, you say: “Papa et maman!”, then add, “Avec [LP + his last name], aussi”!!! And it makes me so happy to think that as far as your understanding goes, you’re getting married too. If you were older, it might be a little creepy and twisted, but now, we really don’t have to fear that this could sc**w you up by including you into a very grown-up commitment and make you feel too involved into your parents’ own relationship. I know it’s just your way of taking your place in this celebration, like you’ve done so naturally in our lives from day 1.

And you are right, to some extend. This wedding is between your father and me, no doubt about that, but once you do have a child, you simply cannot think as if you were only two people, ever again. I’m beyond thrilled to become your dad’s wife, and I bet that it's only his face I'll see while saying these vows, but I will also relish in you being near. For this is also the celebration of a family, the officializing of one, if you will.

Even if you may not remember much (although you could, since I do have some memories from that age, and you’ve already shown us your memory is impressive), it will be really special for you to be there, the (other) most important person in the world for both of us. You’ll see yourself in the pictures and videos, you’ll hear people talking about how you were there and what you did. Really, I could not think of a better or a more meaningful person to walk with me to your father (there won’t be an aisle), and I am really honored you’ve accepted. Well, OK, so you didn’t have much of a choice. Still, the other day when I tried to explain it to you I couldn’t help but be completely flooded by emotion, so I can’t even imagine how happy and tearful I’ll be right at this moment when we’re about to start walking towards there, and how grateful I’ll be for holding your hand.

Thank you for having made your father and I who we are, for having tested us as a couple somehow and let us show our less flattering sides to each other, as it made us much stronger, closer, and filled with certitude regarding our odds of making it through. Thank you for filling us with joy every day. Thank you for having made us a family and therefore, made our lives whole.