Soup

I love soups and they are definitely one of the highlights of the cold season for me. During this time of year, it's so easy to whip one batch with whatever seasonal vegetables you can find (abundant, fresh and cheap): leeks, parsnips, tomatoes, beets, pumpkin and other squashes... My recipe is basically always the same: saute the veggies in a little butter with onion and garlic, add broth and let simmer for a while, then add milk or cream, season and blend... It couldn't be easier and tastier.

But one the new favorites in my repertoire is soul-warming miso soup, which I started making last year. People usually find miso to be a little intimidating, probably because it's so unfamiliar to us. But providing you can find the right ingredients, it's simple: nothing more than "semi-homemade cooking," in fact, since it's unlikely you will harvest and dry your own seaweed, or cure your own fish and then flake it with a special knife...

The ingredients, though, are key. I find mine in the big Asian supermarket we have in the nearby town (which never fails to make us feel like we're experiencing culture shock just a little), but they should still be available in larger grocery stores that have an international selection. Or, maybe even online?

You will need:

-"Konbu" seaweed. It's different than the "Nori" you need for sushi, which is packed in thin sheets. Konbu is thicker and presented in larger strips, still covered with some sea salt.

-"Bonito" flakes: Bonito is a kind of small tuna, which has been dried until it reached the consistency of a rock, then painstakingly flaked.

-Miso paste: there are many kinds available, and all work fine. Unlike the other two ingredients, this is usually sold refrigerated, next to the tofu.

First put two strips of Konbu into 4 cups of water, bring to a boil and let simmer for about 30 minutes. Then take the seaweed out. Add one to two cups of bonito and let stand for a few minutes. Strain the resulting broth, which is called "Dashi" at this point.

Pour a little Dashi in a bowl, and mix in about half a cup of miso paste until smooth. Add to the rest of the Dashi, at low-medium heat (it should become hot, but not boil).

Then you can put the add-ins, just a minute before serving. Personally, I like: cubed tofu, green onions, and enoki mushrooms, which look like delicate little sewing pins. Providing I skip the mushrooms in his bowl, LP will gladly eat all of this.

Nordic wildlife

I guess sometimes even the smallest details reveal that much about where you come from...

I've always called LP "mon loup," or "mon petit loup". I'm not even sure where that comes from...

Loup: wolf. Quite a fascinating and intelligent animal, even tough it would probably need to revamp its image a little. Culling other animals is one thing, and when you think of it even expected from a large predator, but whoever thought that putting their faces on these ghastly sweat shirts accompanied by all kinds of native mystical/spiritual symbols and clichés was in good taste was gravely mistaken, I'm afraid.

And I suppose I will call bébé "ma chouette," just like our mother has always been calling my sisters and I, even to this day.

Chouette: a type of owl that doesn't have little pointy feathers on each side of its head. Surprisingly, this distinction doesn't require a different word in English. Also, in French, "hibou" (owl) is masculine, while "chouette" is feminine, which led me to believe for years that a "chouette" was nothing more than the owl's dear little wife.

Pictures taken by M during our last visit to the Ecomuseum, a wildlife refuge for rescued animals located right on the island of Montreal. And yes, lots of wild animals are white here. Goes better with the snow.

Bella Italia (Part 2)

I miss Italy. So. Friggin. Much.

(Part 1, when we had just gotten back, here.)
--------------------------------------

Everyone was doing that same silly picture, so why not us? Except, see, we're *pushing* the tower, not holding it. Yep, we're clever like that. The tower is beautiful by the way, all made of marble, dainty, and really richly decorated. Everything around, however, is an awful tourist trap.

Sienna, a lovely small medieval town

Tuscany

Cinque Terre, which will always retain a very special place in our hearts

Milan

My love, in his personal vision of paradise, the Dolomites

{And to think that I already felt so big then...}

My other love, in his personal vision of paradise, the Ferrari factory

Florence

Rome

Different birth, different plan

I had never thought of it this way before, but in hindsight planning a first time birth is easier. Sure there's the sometimes freaky uncertainty, but other than that, there was only us to think about. Several weeks before my due date, the hospital suitcase was packed (with a lot more stuff than necessary, on top of missing the obvious: diapers and a baby's hat, hello?), the car seat was installed, and I made sure through a lot of nagging that the gas tank was always filled and that M's cell phone was always charged. Apart from that, we only had to wait.

Now, we also have LP to consider, in a lot of different ways. First and foremost, we need a place to safely drop him at any hour of the day, or most likely, of the night, since if we have to leave for the hospital early morning during the week we can always just drop him off at daycare as usual. But we don't have family nearby, and it will take several hours for my mother and/or in-laws to arrive from Quebec City when we call them. Many different people have been kind and generous enough to offer to take LP during that time (even my boss, who lives in the same town, how nice is that?)... But knowing him, I think he could freak out if he was left in a mostly unfamiliar place, with people he doesn't know really well. He has surprised us about this a couple of times (like insisting to be left in the IKEA play room for an hour by himself the last time we were there), but M and I both feel it would be too much of a gamble. Unlike a situation he chooses himself, this will be imposed to him, he may be half-asleep and confused, things will likely be a little rushed, and he will definitely sense that something's up, that there's a tenseness, or that mommy is in pain, etc.

So I mustered up the courage and asked the people where I knew LP would be the most at ease: our next-door neighbors. This family is just his favorite in the world, and he loves being with the little girls (6 and 8) so much, he sometimes cries from missing them whenever he doesn't see them for a few weeks. Of course they accepted heartily, and this is an immense relief for us. We won't even have to drive him somewhere, and I know he'll just be excited to go and won't really be thinking about anything else. This is the best case scenario for us. After I stop working I'll prepare a little suitcase for him as well, and bring it there already, so we're ready for whatever eventuality.

It's difficult to know what the next step will be, but he will likely stay there until either one of his grandparents pick him up, or if they can't make it in time, our wonderful neighbors drop him off at daycare to be picked up by our relatives later and brought to the hospital.

I feel incredibly emotional thinking about how the first meeting between my two children will be. This will be a very important, defining moment, and it makes me nervous and simultaneously filled with joy and sadness. Joy because at this instant the family will really be complete, it will be the start of our new life as a four-person unit, the way we'll always be. Sad because I know even though giving him a sibling is a gift he (hopefully) can never regret, I also realize that this can be a tough transition, going from only child to first born and big brother. I still remember the sting myself, and I was a bit younger than he'll be. I even believe it was a major event in forming my personality.

The helpful advice I received was to let the baby in the bassinet when LP first arrives, instead of holding her, as to not confuse LP and send him the message that he has totally lost his place already. Then, to introduce the baby to him, let him get to know her, kiss her and such, and then hold her together. I think that makes a lot of sense, and we're definitely going to try.

The other thing everyone told me to do was to bring a "present from the baby" to the hospital to give him, as to "put her on his good side" already. We may do that (we have to think about what it could be), since it definitely cannot hurt... But at the same time, we're thinking that this probably works better for younger kids. LP will be nearly four and is quite intuitive already, so he will probably be well aware that the baby couldn't have possibly brought him a present! He always needs to be informed of exactly what's going on and doesn't usually likes to be fooled or to receive a "dumbed down" explanation, so we're still a bit on the fence with this one... Any of you have feedback for me?

In any case, the LP factor will probably be the only one preventing me from experiencing the total "bliss bubble" I remember we had at the hospital the first time. I will probably worry about him, wonder if he's alright, and will likely be a lot more eager to return home with him as quickly as possible this time. Then, maybe I'll find a way to just let go, accept that he's in good hands and try to enjoy this very special experience to its full extent.

Nursery is it

As it was probably expected, we suddenly changed our minds and decided to turn our third bedroom (currently a home office) into a nursery for bébé F. What happened? Did I get into full nesting mode? Did we move from the "overwhelmed" stage to the "we can do it!" one? Did the guilt take over? A mix of everything, I guess. I We just came to the conclusion that it would probably better not to do things all half-assed to put some real effort into this one. Since we realized we would need to turn part of our office into a changing/clothes station anyway, the leap did not seem so gigantic anymore. We know we want to move in the mid-term, but I we realized that doesn't mean we should live "in waiting", because you never know what might happen...

So, good, all good. But this implies a big reshuffling all around the house in the next few weeks. And yes, I'm now 31 weeks pregnant and cannot do much, so I guess my husband deserves *some* sympathy on this one. Here's what we need to do for things to work: change the configuration of the dining room so we can add a small (frosted glass) table on which to put the iMac. Thankfully, our computer actually looks nice, and doesn't take much space (screen, keyboard and mouse, that's all), so it is possible to do it streamlined and not too-cluttered with parts and wires and such. I'm not in love with the idea of having it next to where we eat, but then I still like this better than having it in the basement. We will put the printer on top of a filing cabinet to go underneath the table, and figure out a way to handle the other things we need (paper and supplies, but also all our bills and paperwork, etc.)

The rest of the furniture/stuff will go in the basement, and that will be the biggest challenge. In order to make space, we will have to move at least two small bookcases into our bedroom. We will organize the books, papers and such in the basement, along with my makeshift gym (3 machines + a TV) and a proper playroom corner. LP is getting big enough that he likes to go play there, so we will try to organize the space neatly, have adequate storage, get a play mat, a little table and chairs, etc. The idea would be to move all the toys there, so they are not scattered everywhere in the house. Of course it will take a little effort to stay on top of it: he'll probably bring up a few different toys everyday, but he's at an age when we can teach him to bring it back and manage the load, as well.

Finally, we will buy him a new chest of drawers and bedside table, and put the ones we already have in the nursery. M made our crib four years ago, according to this model we liked but thought was too expensive. The furniture is solid wood painted white with gold trim, from the late 40s (it once belonged to M's grandparents). Our rocking chair is more 70s and not great, but it will do. Like the last time, we will install a changing pad directly on top of the chest of drawers, and put a floating shelf over it for the supplies. A generic white IKEA bookcase, a lamp, and a few cheery, feminine prints will complete the room.

The walls are gray, and they will stay that way. Gray for a baby girl, really???, I hear some of you say... Well, look at these two inspirations below and tell me if you still think so.

{From Apartment Therapy}

{From HGTV}

The fabric will be yellow and green, all from this mod-inspired collection of textiles I've ordered online. My mom will be making all the cushions, bedding, and curtains, and I've asked her to integrate borders in crisp white eyelet embroidery, to add a little softness.




I think it will look great and hopefully a little sophisticated and, yes, even a tad girly. I can't wait to show you the final results.

Soon, we won't even have to cook

Nearly every day, LP sits us down and tells us that he's going to prepare "a great meal." Sometimes he says snack (goûter), and sometimes even pique-nique, but you get his drift. Then, he does all of his little setup on the coffee table, and pretend tosses and mixes and pours and grates. Beware the parent who would try to "taste" what he's made too early, or doesn't pay enough attention and attempts to have something from the wrong pan... Then, he explains to us everything he's made, and we can finally "eat".


That particular night, his menu consisted of:

-pork skewers
-vegetables: "chick peas, green beans and carrots"
-rice
-"good Italian coffee for daddy"
-lemonade (made with freshly squeezed lemons, of course)
-popcorn
-chocolate cookies
-muffins
-and Chinese cookies, "with the little messages in them".

What the wee ones eat at daycare

I guess you can imagine that what LP would be eating at daycare was an important consideration for me. I'm not sure we would have been in a position to refuse to send him to a place where food was so-so, because there are just so many factors to consider (and we are immensely lucky we got a really great $7 spot for him close to home, within walking distance of three parks, with such amazing personnel, etc.), but still. I would have definitely shook things up, tried to make changes from within.

But we lucked out on that front as well. Food is well-thought of, and considered a vital aspect of the kids' development. Hence, even if of course he has things I wouldn't necessarily serve at home (such as white rice and pasta, or more red meat than we'd like), we love how is he fed, and he does, too. Food is important for our family, and he's picked that up very early: every morning he asks what's on the menu, then usually cheers and says: "Miam miam! (Yum!)" And then, every afternoon when we pick him up, we talk about what he had, what he liked, what he didn't like.

This was the topic of an interesting article published last week in local daily newspaper La Presse (in French), called Une cuisine au coeur de la garderie (which both means "A kitchen" and "Food" at the heart of daycare). The journalist visited a government-subsidized preschool-type place like we have (which are called CPE, or "Centre de la Petite Enfance" (Early Childhood Center)). She arrived as kids were just being served tilapia fajitas in whole-wheat tortillas, along with crudites and chick peas. A typical menu there may also include organic veggies (which we don't have), sardine tapenade (a savory paste from the South of France), trout burgers, squash chips, and bolognese sauce made with tofu. The most surprising thing, she noted, was that this CPE was not located in a ritzy or hip neighborhood like you might expect, but rather in a rural area, where many families are underprivileged. But the people there decided that educating the children about food and healthy habits was maybe even more important in this case, since for many of them, the meal they have there is "the most nutritious they'll eat all day".

This truly sounds like a dream. I cannot say our daycare is like that, but, it's quite close. There is tofu once in a while, as well as other meatless days. There is paella, tuna and olive pizza, chicken Caesar salad, and Asian noodle soup. There is comfort food like stews, sweet-and-sour meatballs and cabbage rolls. There's also lighter fare: for instance, today, it was egg salad sandwiches with a mixed vegetable cream soup. Veggies are always abundant: usually he tells us that he's eaten three different kinds (as well as at least one fruit). And what I like the most: everything is made from scratch. I love arriving there every morning, because it always smells wonderful. When we pass by the kitchen (and usually LP exchanges a few words with the chef), I can see her prep, and it's always very reassuring... No instant potatoes, but rather a large sack of tubers peeled by hand. When they have broccoli, she has 10 huge bunches on the countertop, which she washes and cuts herself. She makes desserts, as well, things like honey granola bars, muffins bursting with real fruit, or yogurt pops (and yes, she pours the healthy stuff in plastic containers then freezes it, not buys it packaged). When I see that, it makes me even more disgusted thinking about the Jamie Oliver Food Revolution show we watched last spring, where the 7 lunch ladies in a huge, well-equipped kitchen kept repeating that it was impossible to "make real food" for 300 people... Our chef is alone in her tiny space with two fridges and two stoves, and yet she brilliantly feeds 70 kids and 15 adults every day. The greatest impossibility usually lies in one's head.

Another accompanying article, though, also states that unfortunately, refined sugary cereal given as snacks, hot dogs and chicken nuggets can also make most of the menu at other places. Everything is not perfect, and I find it really sad. I think that ultimately, if the parents don't complain or try to change this situation, it may be because they are not very well aware themselves, and may not make it a priority in their homes. Last year, when vegetables were the theme (they changes "themes" every week and do all kinds of related activities), LP's teacher told me in all her time there she had never seen a child who knew so many of them. And of course this felt good, like maybe we're doing this right... But seriously people, we're not that great. There are plenty of veggies I rarely or I've never cooked, and it's not like we're big cheerleaders for kale and celery-root in the house. So I couldn't help but think: "Wow. What are the other families eating, then?"

Two sweaters...

For mommy... And then for the little one most often found pushing really hard against my ribcage these days.

Eating feels brand new

Here is what our dining space now looks like, after we purchased reproduction Eames Eiffel chairs online and had them shipped from Vancouver (here is my previous post about it).


{LP's place is the red chair at the left, mine is the white one at the right, and M sits across from me. Bébé will sit in between her parents).

Overall we love it. It's simple, not show-stopping, but it's much more to our taste than before, it blends in with the rest of our furniture much better, and if that ever makes sense, it changed the whole feel of the room. As an added bonus for a family with young kids, these chairs are so easy to clean, they probably save us about 10 minutes every day! They suddenly make the space looks bigger, even though we think that to in order to complete the look we'll eventually buy two more and have a total of six like we used to (but we'll wait until our stint with the highchair is definitely over!) It was such an easy and not-that-expensive project that nonetheless makes a big difference in the house, we feel completely silly we waited for years before making the switch. Now what will be next?

Fall fashion trends

{Leticia Casta modeling the Louis Vuitton Fall 2010 collection; see number 3 below}

If you know (or can somewhat read) French, please go see my latest freelance article. They asked me to pick the top 10 fashion trends for this fall. (You'll see, it's a quiz with multiple choice questions for the reader to try and guess the trend. They love doing that on that site).

Researching, and coming up with the list, was a lot of fun. The trends needed to be approachable to their everyday-woman readers, so I tried to stay mainstream, but also showed real runway inspirations, because I still always like to see the source (which I've always viewed a bit like contemporary art; a little conceptual, but to which you can add context and interpretation to make it come to life). Note: They first informed me that there was a bug and that the images I picked could not be uploaded immediately; let's hope it is fixed by now. If not, sorry.

Here is what I chose:

1-Utilitarian boots
2-Jewel tones
3-Fifties silhouette
4-Rich textures (velvet, cashmere, brocade and tweed)
5-Capes
6-Structured military jackets
7-Conservatism (a term I picked from Harper's Bazaar)
8-Fur accents
9-Camel as the new "it" neutral
10-Feminine boho.

Do you think I got this right? Anything you love or loathe?

No, no, for sure it would have been for her...

I'm not sure if this is surprising or not, but I LOVE dollhouses. We never had one growing up, but my cousins had a fantastic one, and I couldn't get enough of looking at it (more than actually playing with it, like it was the case for all my Barbie set-ups). When I lived in Frankfurt, I used to spend hours at the town museum, where the most magnificent specimen I've ever seen was on display: it was four-story tall and huge, fully furnished with the most incredible number of details you could ever imagine (it even had electricity), and had once belonged to very privileged, very lucky little girls. Come to think of it, I guess this unlikely quirk can be related to the fact that I love 3D models in general, whether they represent houses, buildings, neighborhoods, whole towns, or historical events; I simply find them fascinating (all these real-life details but scaled down perfectly!)

Please don't laugh, but in my early twenties I even started making little furniture to go in an eventual dollhouse (wow this is hugely embarrassing given the social butterfly/party girl persona I simultaneously had during this time), and I think I still have it somewhere (hey it's a craft like any other, and you can get all the supplies at an art store). In fact, when I came back to the office after we learned bébé was a girl, one of my co-workers hugged me and said: "Now you can get your dollhouse!!!" I didn't quite remember, but apparently I had once told him that if I ever had a girl, I would totally use her as an excuse to finally buy one.

And on our way to my hometown two weeks ago, we briefly stopped at our favorite antique store, where I immediately lost my breath. Here is what I saw:






Yes, it was in need of a little TLC, but it was still simply so perfect! All lovingly crafted by hand, with everything you could want (even a little broom closet in the kitchen), and what about that covered porch? It was quite sizable, too: I put one of LP's little toy cars in the picture so you get an idea of the scale of this thing -there were also two additional rooms you can't see here in a different aisle. I told M: this is it! This is my dollhouse! But it simply didn't fit in the car, and they don't deliver, so we decided to return on the way back and see what we could do. We were in a little bit of a hurry, and thought that for sure such a big, unusual item would not sell within the next few days; after all we had often gone back to this place two, or even three times before finally deciding to purchase something from them, and it was always still there.

All weekend long I thought about it and started restoring/repainting/decorating it in my head.

But when we came back, of course, it wasn't there anymore. They told us they had loaned it to a prop company which provides sets for movies and TV shows... The loan was supposed to last one week, but the guy said that usually in this case, they end up buying it and don't bring it back. I left them my phone number in case they ever did...

No one called. Sigh.

Work it mom!

This is my maternal great-grandmother Elise, a native from the Montagnais tribe, when she was 17. She died when I was 6 and was a very important figure of my early childhood. My younger sister looks like her a little, and among us three, is the only one who has taken some of the native traits, like the gorgeous matte olive skin.

When talking to my grandmother recently, I learned a very intriguing fact: Elise was raised by a working mom! While her husband worked for the local paper mill, she opened a general store adjacent to her home, which she took care of while also caring for her kids. She handled everything, from the accounting to the inventory to the relationship with suppliers. And we're talking about my 79 year-old grandmother's grandmother here, a woman who was born in the 19th century!

Elise stopped going to school at 14 and started working as a maid, eventually marrying a Scotsman named Harry and becoming a stay-at-home mother. My grandmother did the same, first attending nursing school before she married and had her first child at 19. My mom stayed home, as well, although the expectations were beginning to change during her generation, and most women around her worked (her four sisters did, for instance). There is no question for women of my generation, at least here: basically *all* mothers work (well of course that's not true, but pretty close). I don't want to enter the debate about what's best for the kids: I think that it differs from family to family, and that different things can work out. There are advantages to both, and most of all I think that it's not what matters most to raise happy, balanced children, but rather how you put your priorities in order, how you make it work, how you care. I would never, ever judge or look down on stay-at-home moms like some people do; I know how hard it is, and I know I'm not entirely cut out for it. But at the same time, I want nothing to do with people who say that daycare is inherently bad and that any mom who does other things than caring for her children is an unfit one. I don't even want to argue; I see the living, concrete proof of that being complete bs all around me every day.

I feel sad though, when I see or hear women being torn and feeling guilty about a situation they would have rather experienced differently: usually wanting to stay home while their kids are little, but "not having a choice to work." I think almost all women feel this way to a certain extend (I would rather work part-time than full-time, for instance), and that it's easy to feel rotten sometimes, as the expectations towards both making a good living for your family and raising well-adjusted, high-functioning children have never been this historically high, and can be quite conflicting. But while I think this is completely understandable, I also feel it can become damaging, especially when associated with true resentment and lingering bitterness. So a lot of us are working moms, and it might not always be perfect, and we have a lot on our plates if we really want to give our kids as much time and attention as possible. But at some point you must accept it and just get on with your life, trusting your ability to do the best you can. I feel that constantly complaining about how hard, or unfair, or inhumane that is, especially in front of your children, and only focusing on the fact that "if it weren't for that damn paycheck you'd never work" is probably a lot worse for them than you actually working in the first place. What message does it send? That you're unhappy, unable to adapt, that work means misery, and that money is basically the root of all evil, needing to come before everything else but simultaneously being despised. We all have our bad days, but I wish we'd just embrace how our lives are playing out, focus on the positive, and simply paint it to our families as the reality, nothing more, nothing less.

The thing is I feel at least part of this guilt is coming from a not entirely accurate perception: the myth of the "good stay-at-home mom" from generations past, who baked and tended to her immaculate house and was completely devoted to the nurturing of her children. I think we are especially vulnerable to this as many of us did see our mothers and grandmothers staying at home, and I can guess have viewed this as a positive thing. But what a lot of people don't seem to realize is that they probably were part of the only few generations of women in History who were in that situation -that is, they likely had a relatively low number of children, and various technological advances suddenly meant they had a lot more time on their hands. I think (and of course this is totally partial and obviously I'm not an expert in social anthropology or non-Western cultures, etc.) that prior to that, the roles were not as well defined, and certainly not as polarized. Some mothers definitely worked; if the family had a small business for instance, or a farm (as it probably was the case for a large part of the population), everyone was most likely required to pitch in.

And even if they did stay home, I'm pretty sure that the rationale behind was primarily about work, precisely, and not necessarily about the kids' welfare. Their priorities and days were very different than ours can be... There were clothes (and sheets, and blankets, and diapers...) to sew, knit, or mend, and then to wash by hand (starting with gathering and heating large vessels of water with rudimentary commodities). There was bread to knead and bake every few days. There was all the food, however simple, to be made from scratch (including butter, cheese, flour), not to mention other necessities such as soap and candles; and all this usually for large broods... There were preserves to be considered so the family could go through the winter; and during that season, there was the constant concern/chore of keeping the house warm enough. I'm not saying that the children were not important -I think a mother's heart has probably always been the same. But the concept of actively participating to your kids' development, devoting your life to them, and seriously focusing on seeking out the best for them is a very recent one, and would probably seem quite strange to people from that time...

I don't think that their way was better, or that it's wrong to dedicate your life to your kids, especially during the first few years. But simply, I believe that perhaps Elise's mother would have laughed at our constant questioning and judging and agonizing and feeling guilty about this all. She probably wasn't losing sleep over wondering if her kids were experiencing the optimal developmental conditions or if the business was preventing her from being the best mother she could be. From what I know, she was just tackling it all, doing what was necessary, living.

Red dahlias and apples

Here are pictures from my latest flower gig this weekend. When I picked up the dahlias, the wonderful girls at the flower shop were literally gushing at their gorgeousness, like only true flower lovers can, and I soon joined them. It was impossible not to: they were simply stunning. And huge. I brought them home, and had to stop myself from sleeping besides them. Seriously.




I made eight centerpieces, alternating the plate-size flowers with some big fresh apples and tiny crab apples I had a hard time finding (you can make delicious "butter" or jelly with them, but can't eat them as such). I scoured the fruit on wooden skewers, and it worked great.



I loved the results, and the clients did, too (it was their 10th anniversary party, at a cosy cabaret-type place in Old Montreal, with brick walls and dark velvet drapes, which I think worked great with the dahlias). Since I always learn something from each gig, this time it was how "fussy" dahlias can be, which might explain why they are rarely sold as cut flowers in retail. They are very heavy, for instance, and can have delicate stems; as a result, they are prone to be weighed down quite quickly. Very direct light and heat is also tough on them; at the end of the night, all the arrangements from one side of the venue, which had harsh stage lighting on them, were pretty much wilted (which broke my heart), while the ones from the other side still held on. But while they are in season at this time of year, I still wouldn't stop myself from using them. They are just so beautiful -among my favorites, definitely.

The home stretch

Given how tired I was, at my last appointment my doctor told me he wished I would stop working now. He talked to me about how I really needed my energy to prepare for the birth, as well as what's coming after. He then signed me one of these authoritative, official forms that when handed out to your employer, usually signals that from then on, they must pay you for staying home.

But I'm a contractor, so my official employer is myself. I can certainly tell the company I'm working for that I'm stopping now, but they won't pay me (and I wouldn't want to leave them without a warning and transition anyway). I called my disability insurance company, which informed me of what I was already pretty sure of: pregnancy is not a disease, therefore unless my life or the baby's is directly threatened, I'm not covered. I could technically start my mat leave now (and thus receive weekly benefits from the government), but I'd really rather not, since my due date is still two and a half months away... So my only option was to try and negotiate something with my boss.

I was really nervous about it, but she's really been a doll. For security reasons, it is not possible for me to solely work from home, but she's had her boss approve a special schedule, where I can get one day off a week if I feel the need to, and can work from home an additional day. She also brought up what I'd been pondering over the past few days, that is how we should be realistic and realize that I might not be able to make it until my 37th week. I had told them I wanted to stay until November 5, but we agreed that I should probably stop earlier. So as of now, my last day of work will be October 22.

Suddenly, this makes all of this very close and real. I have less than 6 weeks to go, which will probably be very busy. Apart from work, I have one last wedding flower gig (we're also guests at the event), a big surprise birthday party and an anniversary party. I want to sell baked goods for charity like I've been doing every fall for the past three years. And I need to buy a car: my lease has been up since April and we didn't replace it then, figuring we would manage with one until my mat leave and save a few payments. But with me soon staying home in our little part of suburbia where public transit is a joke, especially with two kids and the upcoming winter, this is becoming quite urgent.

I will therefore officially start my mat leave at 35 weeks, and I'm really looking forward to it. I know this means I will (should) have at least a month off before the baby arrives, for me to relax and finish preparing everything for her arrival, cook meals to freeze, take care of little projects I've been postponing... And also try to give LP as much attention as possible before the most important change in his life so far happens.

All this to say that I have a great boss, and this is a really good job I'll be sorry to leave. I'm going to miss the people I work with a lot, and I also need to get used to the idea of not seeing them anymore and not coming back, since they've been such an important part of my life for nearly three years. I feel a little bad for them, actually, after having been informed that budgetary restrictions mean they cannot hire someone to replace me. Instead, they will use the services of other technical writers within the company, who are located either in France or Singapore. I cannot see how this could really go well, with the sheer distance, time difference, language barrier, and so on.

To whom it may concern

This is about the constant obsession nearly everyone seems to have with my feet, lately. Or, more specifically, my shoes.

I do understand that you are well-meaning, and I do appreciate your concern. But it's getting really weird being gently scorned about wearing heels multiple times a day, especially from strangers waiting by the elevator besides me and the like. I'm Mrs. Nice, so I smile sheepishly and would never dare telling you to STFU, but now it's really starting to bug me in a way I can't really put my finger on.

I feel it's a little intrusive, and even offensive. I didn't think that being pregnant meant I was surrendering my body, or especially, giving over the control to you (I'm looking at you, otherwise sweet elderly office cleaning lady). I simply thought that as a mom and a 35 year-old woman who perceives herself to be smart, I could at least be trusted to know what feels right and what doesn't.

So I'm still wearing heels in my third trimester. Not everyday, but a couple of times a week. I've long stopped wearing the stilettos and the 4-inch ones, only the low, more comfortable ones and the wedges, which offer plenty of support. And only on days when I know I will be basically walking for less than 15 minutes total. But apparently that still doesn't work. How do you think it makes me feel when you imply that this is "not good" for the baby? I mean, really?

When pregnant with LP, I stopped wearing them earlier than that. I had lots of belly stretching pains, and when I walked in them it made it worse and was really painful. So obviously I stopped. It was also the winter, so I needed to keep my feet warm and additionally there was the risk of slipping on icy patches, so I just bought a pair of flat boots, it was a no-brainer. This pregnancy is completely different. Since everything has been stretched already, I have no pain in my belly whatsoever. The baby is sitting lower, and all its weight seems to be on my lower back. Therefore, I do have pain in my pelvis, but I swear that it's always the same level of pain whether I wear heels or not, whether I walk a little or a lot, whether I am on my feet a little or a lot. Except for that, the heels do not make me feel uncomfortable, or like I can't stand them. I'm fine and that's why I'm going on.

You have to understand that heels have been a second nature for me for a good decade and a half. I'm used to hearing: wow, how can you walk in those? But what am I supposed to reply to that? You put one foot in front of the other, that's all. Aren't you scared you are going to fall? Uh, no. I'm an expert in walking in heels, they're just natural for me, as strange as this may seem to some people. But just because you think that you couldn't do it doesn't mean that everyone can't. So this is me: adapting to pregnancy my way. Sorry if it's not yours. And even sorrier that you feel you have the right to make this clear to me. Some pregnant women run marathons, you know. Obviously not the ones that never jogged before, but the ones for whom this is already no big deal. Are people stopping them and telling them that they are hurting their baby?

One of the reasons I still wear them when I feel it's suitable is actually the same reason why I've continued doing my nails, and my hair, and my make-up, and generally tried to look nice and put together. This makes me feel good, or rather, this makes me feel better. My body is changing so fast right now, and I find it just as disconcerting this time around than I did four years ago. It's plainly weird, and it keeps throwing me off in the smallest ways, like becoming completely out of breath after reading LP a story, suddenly realizing I can't get out of the bathtub by myself, or that my husband's XL boxer shorts, which I've been sleeping in lately, are starting to get tight -even as he is a 6'2, 190-pound giant. My body is acting so randomly: I gained 10 pounds last month, but only 3 this month; my face is less puffy than during my first pregnancy, but my butt and thighs are bigger, despite the fact that my total weight gain is a little less.

This is a special time, and bébé's constant movements never fail to remind me of that. I'm loving carrying her inside of me and knowing we'll soon meet her. But I also know that as I come closer to the last part of my pregnancy, I'm beginning a long phase of my life when I will barely belong to myself anymore. In the coming weeks I will become less and less mobile, more and more incapacitated. I will soon go through the shock of giving birth, and then nurse her every two hours at the beginning, care for her around the clock, while also caring for my son (and let's not forget M). Being a lactating mom is a little more freeing than being pregnant; you can have a drink, for instance, but only right after you just finished a feeding, so the alcohol gets out of your system before the next one. Your diet is not restricted in theory, unless baby seems to be having digestive problems, and then you, her sole source of food, have to question and reconsider everything. You slowly get your body back, but then, not really, because you spend half the day with a baby attached to your boobs. You choose all your clothes according to that fact, you time your whole schedule according to that fact. You sleep erratically, and your own needs simply have to become secondary for a while. I want to do it, I'm happy to do it, but I also like to cling to the little things that remind me it's not ALL about that.

Perhaps that's a weird lot of personal issues to put into stupid heels, but that's kind of what they mean to me. That I'm still myself, that I still exist. That's all.

Are we fine?

I hate being such an alarmist... Especially as I agree with the Offbeat Mama, who recently gave this advice to an expectant mom who didn't know what to make of all the crazy and conflicting pregnancy health recommendations she hears (essentially she said, yes, pay attention, try to make good choices, but without giving in to panic and becoming terrified!).

But I can't get a certain conversation we had with a friend several days ago out of my head. He's a biology professor, and during a wonderful lunch we shared with the kids the new class he just started teaching came on the topic. He told us how he started his first lecture, right after introducing himself, as part of some kind of a shock tactic to make sure he had all of his students' interest.

According to him, and widely backed by a ton of research (which he did not show us but did show them), the average young male in his class has 50% less sperm than his own father used to have at the same age. He says that this rate has been steadily declining since at least the 70s, dropping over 2% each year. That of course on an individual basis this does not necessarily mean anything, as some men have genetic predispositions to be more fertile, there are also other things playing a role, like the age and fertility of the female partner, and not all people are impacted by the different contributing factors in the same way... But he said the evidence suggests that in the not so distant future, a sizable portion of the Western male population, about 20% or so, will be unable to reproduce.

What causes this, we obviously asked? And he named four main culprits, which I'm sure will not exactly surprise you: pesticides, plastics, VOCs, and hormone/endocrine disruptors (such as parabens in cosmetics, BPA, etc.)

Now I'm not really one to force my ideas about organic food and trying to reduce your exposure to chemicals. OK, I do talk about it here from time to time, but if you met me in real life, I would never try to preach my stuff and make you a convert. I've learned that it's simply not that important for some people, and it's OK. We're not exactly 100% into this, anyway. We won't refuse to go some place for dinner just to make a point about industrial meat or because we're scared we'll ingest some nasty stuff.

Sometimes, though, when asked about it or especially when challenged, I will gladly defend my opinion and try to explain the reasons why I think it's important to be informed, to be aware, and to try and make changes in our current society lifestyle. It's not really difficult; they are so many points to be made about health issues, the environment, not to mention politics and economics... And when I do, the most frequent answer I get (and the most frustrating too, I think), is often along the lines of a shrug followed by: "we didn't grow up with organics, and we're fine."

But really are we? Are we fine?

Zzzzzz... I mean, help?

OK. I've always been hesitant to really tackle the sleep issue here, probably because it could quickly become the topic of 20 or more different posts... But I'm going to try not to be too verbose and detail-oriented (if that's ever possible) and finally attempt this.

Somewhere along the way (starting to escalate after our return from Italy, then especially after his week away with his grandparents), LP, who's never been a good sleeper, became a truly problematic one. At least once a week these days, he wakes up constantly during the night, and won't fall back to sleep on his own. We have no problem handling the "usual" stuff: say he calls for me once, I go tuck him in, he's instantly sleeping again, so I can go back and do the same. But a worst-case scenario goes like this: he calls for me, crying. M goes, tucks him in, reassures him, starts his white noise stuffed lamb, and comes back. He starts crying really desperately. M goes back briefly again. The next time I go, first staying for a few minutes, patting his back, telling him that it's really important for the whole family to sleep, that mommy's pregnant and really tied and he needs to be a big boy and be able to fall back to sleep without our help. The second time, I only go for a few seconds, kissing him and telling him we'll see each other in the morning. The third time, I stay on his doorstep, telling again that everything is alright and that this is the last time mommy is getting up. It works for maybe 15 minutes, then he suddenly comes running into our bedroom, completely panicked for no reason, other than telling us that "he doesn't like to be alone". Fairly desperate, we decide that M will go back to lie with him until he calms down, which usually means he falls asleep with him. When this happens, my night is over. I toss and turn and think until an irrepressible wave of sleepiness completely takes me over at around 5:45, or 45 minutes before the alarm goes off. Then I'm completely broken, sore, foggy-brained, lost, barely capable of functioning. M is usually a little better at going on no matter what. And for LP of course it's like nothing happened, although it will probably come and kick him in the butt later on.

We just don't know what to do. I've of course, as is my nature, tried to seek as much information as possible on this. And I just can't find answers.

Strangely, he doesn't have any of the other patterns or behaviors that seem to go with sleep problems at this age. We have, and always have had, a consistent and regular bedtime routine. It maybe a little on the late side, but we've proven to be completely incapable of doing it earlier. Except in rare cases, he never fusses or fights his bedtime (like constantly getting up, wanting this and that, asking to go to the bathroom, refusing to stay in bed, etc.) When he does, it goes on for a few minutes, like he'll get up once, not for hours like I've seen other kids do. He first falls asleep quickly, quietly, and most importantly, on his own. He doesn't have night terrors, and doesn't appear to have nightmares, at least not that he tells us of (and he's a pretty verbal kid). He doesn't have a problem with waking up too early, either: he always sleeps until at least 7, sometimes later.

The resources I find also provide references for books, and guess what. We already have them all. I've read them all, we've tried them all, from the ones that simply insist on providing a comforting routine and repeating rituals (not helping), to the ones that say just let them cry (awful, awful, not helping), to the ones that say whatever you do never let them cry (not helping much at least in the short term), to the ones that say children should sleep with their parents until they're ready to move on (which we've done for a while; my thoughts on co-sleeping could be the subject of another post), to the ones that say letting them cry usually works for all children BUT the intense/anxious ones (and guess who that describes perfectly).

M and I were both bad sleepers as children, ridden with unexplained anxiety early on, and we still are. So we are both unsurprised that he unfortunately shares this trait, and have pretty much the same perspective on this since we both feel we were once that kid. We believe that we must teach him to fall asleep in his own and bring him there, but that we must not make him feel like we're abandoning him along the way. We feel that anxiety (which he is much better at managing during the day by the way, but it's always a different thing in the rawness of the night) is not something that can nor should be "broken", like a bad habit. We want to be firm, not to encourage or enable his constant waking up, but not to make him feel like he's completely alone in this either (which for us growing up, was/would have been simply terrifying).

This is not manipulation; he truly feels unsettled and hasn't learned how to completely self-soothe yet, and we're not sure how best to teach him (to tell you the truth I'm not sure I ever learned myself). Every night before he goes to bed, we repeat to him that it's necessary to have a good night's sleep, and tell him that if he wakes up, he needs to fall back to sleep on his own, that he has everything he needs (his stuffed animals, tissues, water, etc.), that mommy and daddy are just nearby, and that we will all feel much better if he sleeps well. We've also started this "positive reinforcement" system where he gets a reward (a small train) for every 3 "good nights". We've sticking to it for now, but are not sure if it's helping much: he's earned 3 trains in the past month or so... I don't think that in the middle of the night, the promise of a new toy is enticing enough to prevent this whole thing from happening.

After nights like this, we are usually pretty much out for days on end. We do what we have to, but it's more like constant getting through than living and especially enjoying quality family life. Along with the always-present discomfort that comes with the third trimester, I'm not sure I have ever reached this level of fatigue in my whole life (and I've always been a notorious bad sleeper). What will it be like when the baby comes? We can't help but be scared. And I mean, M and I often joke that this has probably shortened our lives by a few years, but really in the end it doesn't matter. If we wanted to sleep, we wouldn't have had kids; it's our job to make their life easier, not the opposite. But what worries us the most is obviously him! Such sleep deprivation at such a young age can only be quite bad on his little body and developing mind. We just have to find a way to help him.

Any chance that any of you have any pearls of wisdom for me?

P.S. I'm tired, but not on the brink of falling apart here. Days after a rough night are making me feel a little more on edge, but thankfully it's not always like that. Just so you don't think I'm about to lose it. Also, sorry if this post sounds really whiny.

I think we have a name!

We have pretty much settled on a name. It's a unisex one, mostly used for boys, but we've gotten over the risk of potential hardship as we talked with people and realized that it was the case for a lot of different names, and probably no big deal at all! We like the fact that since there aren't that many girls with that name, it gives it a little uniqueness while not being overtly far-fetched or "novelty-like".

It's not bilingual, but sort of works in English. It goes well with M's last name, and even (unwillingly) "fits" with LP's first name. It's in a comfortable position in the database, neither very popular nor very obscure. And of course, it seemed like a really good sign that when we announced it to my mother, she became all weepy and told us that it was among the 3 names she had picked for me. I swear I had never heard of that.

I still wanted to give a special mention to LP's adorable suggestion: out of the blue, the other day, he said, "why don't we name my little sister Sienna?" We have no idea where he came up with that (it's not even a name in French), other than it's a city we visited in Italy and he remembered that one night over dinner while there we had spoken about trying to find a little Italian twist for bébé's name... We really liked the idea of one day being able to tell our daughter that her name was chosen by her brother when he was 3, but unfortunately, other than that, it wasn't a good choice at all. In French, it would seem too weird and out there, not to mention that people would pronounce it all wrong and that it sounds truly ridiculous when said along with her last name. And also, 99% of people would not think: "Oooh that's the name of a medieval Tuscan hill town, how cute!", but rather, "they named their daughter after the Toyota minivan???"

Therefore, I'm proud to introduce bébé's new initial: F!

Have a great Labor Day weekend!

We are going to my hometown for this long weekend, where we plan to spend some family time with my dad, stepmom, as well as my sister and her family. We'll also visit my dear 78 year-old grandmother, who's not been feeling really well lately. She's in great shape, but she and her 84 year-old partner moved condos over the summer, and as we suspected it proved to be a little much for them, despite the help they got. She's also unfortunately been having a lot of family-related heartache in the last few years, something we so wished she had been spared from, but all know is taking its toll on her health and well-being. She got admitted in the hospital last week for uncontrolled elevated blood pressure, and it was again a reminder that I should not take her for granted!

She's back home now, I'm really looking forward to spending time with her, and I hope that seeing LP, my nephew MO, and her great-granddaughter in my belly will cheer her up a bit.


Back here on Tuesday.

Fall flowers

I'm doing centerpieces for a fun event next week: a 10 year-anniversary and vows renewal party.
I was given carte blanche, and until recently (even though I had this booked since the spring), wasn't exactly sure what I wanted to do, except that I wanted to go "seasonal"... Then as it often happens inspiration suddenly stroke when I saw this backyard "orchard" party featured in the current issue of Better Homes and Gardens.


I love the simple yet elegant look of these white buckets filled with dahlias (one of my favorite flowers) and apples. The tablecloths and venue decorations are mainly red, so I think it will be striking. I have also picked up some acorns fallen from a tree in my in-laws backyard and will try to use them as a (discrete) accent.

I thought dahlias would be easy to find, but it turned out that my usual supplier does not carry them and did not even want to order them especially for me! But aren't they local and in season right now, I asked? I don't know, he said. It's just not a very popular flower for retail, it's a little fussy and unknown and it's not a market I wish to develop. Well, sorry, but you may have lost my business. Thanks to Twitter, though, I reached out to this energetic, young local florist I was following, and within the hour she had found me exactly what I wanted, on budget. Score! It means I will have to go a little out of my way to pick them up, but I'd much rather do that than making endless phone calls or risking being empty-handed a few days before the event. I was thinking that if I want to get more serious with this, I'll need to diversify my sources or find a different supplying arrangement, anyway.

We went apple picking this weekend, and came back home with a HUGE 50 lbs sack of fruit! Even if we make (the most delicious) applesauce, cobblers, pies, muffins, and eat some every day, I'll have more than enough to use the smaller ones in the arrangements. I also think it would be lovely with other late-summer flowers -mums, zinnias, cosmos... What do you think?

Because we'll have to dress her at some point, right?

My friend G is due to have her second child in November as well. She has a very well-dressed four year-old girl (a.k.a. LP's girlfriend), and is now expecting a boy. This happy coincidence means that we can simply switch all of our baby clothes, give them a new life, and not have to spend so much on things that only fit for a few weeks/months anyway. I haven't received the girl clothing yet, but little R was born in the spring, so the seasons and sizes might not match perfectly well for us, but it will still be an immense help. Of course, though, it's always fun to buy some new things for a baby...

The other day, Girl's Gone Child posted these pictures of her adorable toddler daughter (whom we met in her mom's belly) sporting dresses made by grandma:





And this nearly made me jump in excitement. Yes! It's as if I had forgotten that... you could actually make clothes! And that especially for tiny dresses like that, it was both really easy and cheap! Unfortunately this isn't Southern California and there aren't many places where they sell super hip fabrics like that here (not that I know of, anyway), but it turns out you can really easily shop for these online, and have even more choice and uniqueness. So hello mom! Have I ever told you how a good grandma/seamstress you are? (Because I could definitely do these, but don't have much time and energy these days, and this seems like such a fun this-is-my-first-granddaughter project, no?)

Also, I came across this collection called An American in Paris from Baby Gap... And I can't stop chuckling. The black, white and red palette, the striped leggings, the polka dots, the Audrey Hepburn trench coats, the little cardis... They really got it right. All that's missing is a beret for bébé to be sharing a drink at the Café de Flore with Simone de Beauvoir and the other existentialists.

And finally, here is the first thing M bought for his daughter.


I mean, how I am supposed to enforce this not-too-much-pink rule if I'm facing such deliberate and early mutiny? :-)