Happy Father's Day, Part 2

Very early in the morning, on April 8, 2003, Sean became a father. Until Kieran lay on my chest, I don't think Sean fully connected with his new role in life. But, from the moment he set eyes on his son, Sean was equal to the task.


Even though he had to get up and go to work, Sean never complained about having to get up with me to nurse Kieran or take him for a cuddle when I could no longer emotionally or physically cope with the demands of newborn night nursing. Even later, when Kieran would get his days and nights mixed up and decide that 4am was the new dawn, Sean would spend time with Kieran so that I could get some much needed rest.

He rarely complained, having an appreciation for how tough my job as a new mother was. He never whined and complained about diaper changes, though he did have a strong preference for non-messy diapers. He never complained about walking in the door from work and tagging in for a round of hands-on parenting while I rested, read or did chores.

When I was planning my recent 5 day trip to Tennessee, he never once even implied that it would be any kind of hardship to be Kieran's sole care provider for 5 days. Unlike some families, he didn't need lists of schedules, suggestions, tips and rules written down or even discussed previous to my leaving.

Sometimes, people have commented that when I'm out of the house, Sean is "babysitting" Kieran. Both Sean and I hated to hear that. Sean has never babysat his son, he parented him. And, aside from two years of boob juice use, there was never anything that he couldn't do for Kieran as well as I had done.

I knew, long before we decided to have a child, that Sean would be this kind of father. I knew the kindness in his heart and stillness at his core would make him a steadfast and loving dad.

I am deeply grateful, for myself and on Kieran's behalf, that Sean is Kieran's Daddy.

Happy Father's Day, Part 1

I have a few fathers to honour this year so I have to start a little early.

Can I tell you a little about my dad?

He was a pretty cool dad. He was only 20 years old when I was born, meaning that throughout my life he was a fairly young guy. And he had young guy interests: rock & roll, fast cars and electronic gadgets.

We had the best vinyl collection of anyone I knew and the best stereo around to play it on - we even had a mounted print of the cover of Bat Out Of Hell above our TV! My dad helped me develop an early obsession with The Beatles (at 5 years old, it was a proud day when I showed off how I knew all the lyrics to Hard Day's Night and Hello, Goodbye) and we often sat listening to Led Zepplin, Pink Floyd or a little heavy Cream (*wink*).

My dad would do this thing whenever he put The Wall on. He'd turn it up very loud, preferably late at night when my mum was at a Brownies or her monthly Euchre club, and we'd all sit in the livingroom with the lights dimmed. By all, I mean my dad, me and my sister who was two years younger than me. When the song Is There Anybody Out There? came on, he'd creep up to the picture window, peak out through the closed aluminum blinds and then turn to us suddenly, in time with the music, and sinisterly growl, "is there anybody OUT there!" My sister and I squealed in fright every single time!

My Dad had a creative streak that he satisfied with photography. He would take beautiful artistic photographs. He loved to play with an unique effect such as a macro lens or lens filters or time-delayed photography.

I remember sitting out on the steps of our apartment building, late at night, while Dad told me about aperture and f-stop and shutter speed and how you could hold the shutter open indefinitely and record the movement of the stars or how you could capture images of the Northern Lights or the tail lights on passing cars.

My dad meditated with headphones on and practiced astral projection. He read Omni magazine and encouraged my love of space and science fiction. He often woke me up late at night or let me stay awake late to watch schlocky b-movies.

In warm weather, Dad would buy classic muscle cars and fix them up a little. We would walk through junk yards looking for stick shifts, chrome handles and carbeurators for his cars. After he could do no more tinkering, he sold the car to someone else who wanted to tinker. We had beautiful, shapely cars that roared with bravado and made my dad as excited as a little boy.

My dad was a fun dad to grow up with and I love him dearly.



Happy Father's Day, Daddy!

The Heady World of Academics

I never got as far as I wished to go in academics. If I had an unlimited supply of cash, or just a bunch more, I would have stayed in the delightfully insulated world of academics. I would have cocooned myself in the beautifully indulgent practice of essay writing and sat in lecture halls and classrooms and debated obscurely useless points about works of art written long enough ago to have withstood millions of slightly narcissic students flexing their mental muscles over the choice of a single word or the correct interpretation of a particular metaphor.

But, my life being what it was and is, an economic analysis of how much funds I had available weighed against the nature of my coursework and my ability to generate funds at that then present time and some time in the future led me to conclude that it was much cheaper for me to go on reading and writing outside of the University system.

Besides, as much as I love learning for learnings sake, I feel more fulfilled right now to be influencing the world in measurable ways through more practical pursuits.

Be that as it may (hey, just a quick aside, but my last three paragraphs all begain with "b" words - weird), I get a real kick out of checking in on academics.

With the school terms ending for everyone in the lower education systems, I bring you a little education humour from the halls of higher learning (and high school). Because, face it, the higher you strive, the farther you can fall, and falling is at the centre of comedy.

How to cheat good
'Romeo drowned in Titanic': Teenage views of the Bard
Copycats
Funny GCSE Exams

A Fitting Tribute: Yarn Harlot's Birthday Post From Her Kids

Yarn Harlot: If your mum is...

The Yarn Harlot is 38 today. I feel a special kinship with Yarn Harlot, the comedic knitting book author Stephanie Peral-McPhee.

She is a writer (she writes an amazing blog and funny books about knitting, I write a so-so blog, restaurant reviews and entertaining advice).

She is a doula (I don't think she's in business as a doula anymore, but she used to be, and
I'm just starting my doula journey)!

She is a famous knitting nutter (I'm just widely considered a nutter).

She's from Toronto (which is pretty close to Hamilton).

Her husband works in the music industry (he's a sound engineer/producer, my husband is a publicist at an indie label).

So, you see, it's genetically impossible for me to do anything but adore her!

You should follow the link above and read what her kids wrote in her blog as a birthday present. It's sweet and funny. I'd like to think Kieran would honou me with a funny blogpost one day.

Father's Day Gift Ideas

I may just end up getting Sean some new undies for Father's Day. It seems that most of his boxer briefs are getting holes and he's just not the kind of guy who ever thinks, "Hmmm, I need new underwear. Honey, let's run off to Zellers. I need some new underwear."

**note: Zellers is roughly equivalent to KMart, for the American readers in the crowd.

No, the following scene more accuratiely portrays the kind of guy Sean is:

Me: Kieran and I went to Zellers today to run some errands.
Sean: Did you get me anything?
Me: Uh, no, actually. I didn't realise you needed anything.
Sean: You know I need new underwear. Mine all have holes.
Me: No, I didn't know that.
Sean: Yes you did! You threw a pair out last week.
Me: Seeing a pair of holey underwear and knowing you need a new supply of underwear are two different things, Sean. You need to tell me you need stuff. Despite appearances to the contrary, I don't just magically know stuff.
Sean: Well, I need new underwear.
Me: OK, then have lots of fun going and buying yourself some new damned underwear!

OK, perhaps I let that scene go a little long. But, you get the idea? Sean believes I have god-like powers that allow me to know things he doesn't tell me. I know that Sean would wear the same pair of underwear for a week straight if I didn't periodically check his stock and refill his drawer.

If I didn't already have one, I would get Sean portable DVD player. I recently got a chance to check out the Insignia™ 10.2" from Best Buy.

This baby is sweet! It's got a gorgeous rubbery matte black finish, a swivel screen, very slim design (1 1/2"), weighs very little (2.6 lbs) and plays Region 1 stuff on DVD, recorded DVD, CD, mp3...

I think Insignia is their house brand. A friend got a smaller version for her daughter and loves it. It's got better picture quality than a big name brand player we've used and aside from stuttering once while the drive buffered, it gave us no problems.

It was supposed to be mine and I was looking forward to using it to watch something, anything, more interesting than every single damned hockey playoff game. But, after Sean saw me using it, he wanted in on the action.

You know what he does with it? He lies in bed with the headphones on watching concert DVDs. Every night!


I suppose that is a kind of bonus for me. I don't have to listen to or watch any black metal or Grateful Dead concerts and my husband is falling asleep in our bed, instead of in front of the TV or listening to sports radio ("But, Honey, I have to be distracted by the radio or TV in order to fall asleep! It has nothing to do with you!").

So, if I didn't already possess this little wonder machine, you know I'd be totally putting it on my Father's Day shopping list.

Instead, my personal Father's Day gift guide includes a package or two of boxer briefs. I live such an exciting life, eh?

Red Tape!

So, did I tell you I'm starting my own Doula business? I am! Yay! It's pretty exciting.

My business is called Hamilton Birth Revolution. You know, because every birth is a revolution.

Associated with starting the business is the associated administrative concerns: files, so I have somewhere to put all those client notes, a filing cabinet to store all my client files and a cell phone, are my current concerns. (And, let's not get started on things such as a uniform, a birth ball, assorted birth bag accessories, a birth bag...)

Cell phones! What sadistic motherfucker created cell phone rate plans? Exactly how many plans do you need? And every damned thing is a la carte! If you can manage to find a plan that doesn't rape you every thirty days, you have to pay extra for call display and messaging. That's on top of the 9-1-1 charge and the "access to network" fee. Oh, and it costs an arm to get the damned thing turned on. On top of that, it costs a leg to buy the stupid phone itself!

Gahhhhhhhhh!

I need a phone so my clients can call me any time of the day, no matter where I am, and joyously announce they are in labour. I want the phone to show me who is calling and take a message in case I happen to be on the other line or at a birth. I don't need to phone to take video or play 15 second clips from crappy reality TV shows. I don't want to watch movies on my phone or play games or listen to mp3s. I don't want to take pictues with my phone or use it to talk to all my friends in the middle of a bus ride or the library. And, I don't want to have to pay $17 a minute if I want to call Sean from the Farmer's Market to let him know Kieran and I want to meet him for lunch.

I don't want to have to remember to buy a card and rollover my minutes, whatever that means. I want a nice little bill to show up at my house, with a nice modest charge on it. And, I'd preferably like that bill to be appended onto my landline bill.

Why are cell phones so bloody complicated?

Socks, Pair 1

Socks, Pair 1
Originally uploaded by momcast.

My first finished (just about) pair of socks!

I used the toe from Sockulator (toe up: Sockulator 2) and the reverse round heel with flap for tow up socks ( "Round" Heel for Toes up Socks). I knit the top of the foot and the cuff in K3P2 rib to give it lots of stretch but more stockinette to show off the beautiful Fortissima Colori wool in one of their Mexico colourways.

I had gotten 3/4 way though a different pair of socks but was so unsatisfied with them, I've put them in the frog pile. These are my first real pair. I just have to do a cast off (they are on waste yarn now and I'm looking for the right stretchy finish) and weave in the ends.

I discovered I like a LOT of negative ease, these only had 10%. They fit Sean's size 11 feet better than my women's size 10s. So, he gets to wear them, even though they are a bit more colourful than he would prefer.

Broken Social Scene Video

Ever heard of Broken Social Scene? Here is their latest video, featuring cameos by Geddy Lee (yes, that Geddy Lee) and Brian Taylor (proprietor of Toronto's coolest record stores Rotate This).

Funny stuff! Great band! Good song!

International Tickling Day

Kieran has declared that today is "Tickling Day"!

So go tickle someone you love.


**Momcast will not be held responsible if you sustain any injuries, emotional or otherwise, if you decide to tickle strangers. Please tickle responsibly.

My Family

**I died my hair red for 15 years, but I'm a natural blonde and aside from being a redhead again brifly when Kieran was born and I went slightly mental, I've haven't altered the colour of my hair for about six years. So, why is it that when I think of myself, it is as a redhead?

Where The Words Are

Here is what I've been writing lately:

Creative Loot Bags For Kids' Parties

Hosting A Roast

My restaurant reviews for Hamilton, Ontario and area. (Please keep in mind that I don't write the headlines. an editor does that.)

Been Busy

I've been busy lately, sorry. I have a bunch of posts brewing, but I'm feeling too guilty for sitting in another room on the computer all the time to get the posts written.

So, to give you something beautiful to look at, I give you my beloved fallback: my son!


Kieran climbing on the rocks at the beach.