reunited with my first baby

So I haven’t been entirely truthful on my blog. The truth is, I had a baby long before my bean and my bug arrived.

It’s not as scandalous as it sounds.

When I was twelve, and my brother was ten, my mom and dad discovered that they would be adding another child to our family. This was a bit of a shock to my mom, and quite puzzling to my dad, considering he had undergone a vasectomy 7 years prior.  Nonetheless, God had decided that our family was not yet complete. So at 34, my momma grew one more baby in her womb.

And my dad had another vasectomy.

Marcella Grace arrived on an early morning in July. I remember my dad waking me up in the wee hours of the morning to tell me my mom’s water had broken. I recall jumping straight out of bed, yelling “what do I do??!”. And my dad chuckling and suggesting maybe I get dressed first.

Hers was the first birth I witnessed. My mom was amazing. A rock. And I so better appreciate that now, having gone through labour and birth myself. That sweet baby arrived quickly and healthy.

And an instant and fierce bond was formed between that little baby and me. My sister. My first baby. 

My Marci.

Most of what I learned about taking care of an infant I learned from my mom; from helping to care for my baby sister. It was like having a live doll really, and what twelve year old girl wouldn’t delight in that? I changed innumerable diapers, swaddled like a pro, and was quite thrilled with her full head of hair that had to be accessorized. I potty trained, taught abc’s, and brought that little girl with me wherever I could.

Marci was a sweet, very happy, and easy baby. She quickly grew independent (something to do with having four parents?) and filled our lives with joy.

Having a sibling who is twelve years younger than you is a unique experience. Marci and I had a completely different relationship than my brother and I (who was only 2 years younger than me). I was Marci’s second mama.

But the downside to having a sibling so much younger than you is that you end up leaving them when they are still quite young. When Marci was nine, the Doctor and I got married and she was my junior bridesmaid.

My new husband and I moved to a town 40 minutes away, and I know that baby girl spent a lot of nights crying in her bed for me.

And so it is with extreme excitement, and so many more emotions that I am looking forward to this Fall. My first baby is no longer a baby and is starting her undergraduate degree (making me feel way too old).

Marci applied, and was accepted to a number of universities, one of them located in our city. To my delight, she decided to attend the university in our city, even though she will be a two hour plane ride away from our parents, her boyfriend, and friends. AND she is going to be living with us!

Not much has changed about Marci. My sister is still sweet and easy-going. She is one of the most levelheaded and mature 18 year olds I know; a logical thinker who has the same empathetic heart of gold that my brother has.

And I am going to be reunited with her, after 9 years of living apart; 7 years of living in different provinces.

I can’t wait.

The Doctor’s schedule is only growing busier, and I find myself lonely a lot. My sister is going to be great company. And my baby girls will get to really know their aunt, which I am so excited about.

I am so looking forward to just hanging out with her. To drinking hot drinks together, watching girly movies, and just being involved in her life. Living far apart these past years has not afforded us much one-on-one time together. I miss her. I miss all my family. And I can’t wait to be together again.

Baby girl, we have a lot of hanging out to catch up on.

it's only five years: things not to say to a resident's wife

I get this a lot.

You probably know by now that residency is hard for me (and I'm not the one who is a resident.)

So maybe people don't know what to say when I complain (again) about residency.

And they try to cheer me up (?) by suggesting that it is only five years long. Only five years and then the hard part will be done. Only five years and then the living is easy.

Residency is only five years long.

But I just can't get behind the "yeah, your life sucks, but it's only five years of it". Five months, maybe. One year, maybe.

mom to two: 10 months in

I know. I suck at consistent blogging. Sorry about that. I swear I am trying to improve.

That being said, my baby will turn ten months old in 4 days. The last time I blogged about parenting, she was three months old. It's been a bit of a whirlwind.

And every time I think I have it all under control, the baby hits a new milestone and needs more supervision. Or I register the toddler for another activity. Or we undergo a week of sleepless nights. And all those half-written blog posts remain in limbo, waiting for their story to be told.

the big three-oh

Today is my birthday.

Normally I’m very excited for it. I love parties, I love presents, I love celebrating, I love not having to cook.

But to be honest, I’ve been having a hard time just knowing this day was approaching.

30.

Thirty.

The big three-oh.

I’ve been teasing my hubby about being thirty for a year now. But now that I’m here myself, I’m finding it really isn’t that funny.

i'm no feminist, but...

Maybe some of you read the article posted a while ago in the Huffington Post titled "How to Talk to Little Girls". I keep thinking about it.

As a mama to two girls who are growing up fast, I think a lot about how I'm raising them. How I speak to them. What I'm modelling through my own behaviours. How to encourage them to be confident, intelligent and compassionate little girls (and eventually women).