Ok, my blog has been down for a long time... There is an entry that has been saved to the server since August 28th and they promised it would go online by midnight, not to mention the fact that it had been hit and miss the week before.  Hopefully this will get posted soon.

There are many things wrong with this blog provider, but it is free and it seems like they are working really hard to make things better.  I am sure it will be a great place soon!

However a little while ago Hubby bought me a domain name and found a sneaky way to host it for free on his companies webserver, so I was planning to move anyway.  I have spent the last four or five days frantically trying to understand Wordpress.  You'd think as a computer programmer it would be easy, but all the help sites tell you just to modify someone else's theme.  Finally because I was in a rush I thought I would give it a try instead of doing the smart thing and learning how to do it from scratch. 

Well it is up... sorta, I am slowly moving blog entries over as I can(why can't I get the importer to work?), and I will start adding new entries soon.  However I will be redesigning it over and over.  Also I will finally be able to categorize entries, and I will be doing that slowly, so if you use a blog reader articles may keep getting relisted as new, sorry. 

Alright, here it is, please don't laugh too hard it is still under construction:

www.prematureoptimism.com/blog

 

I breastfeed, however I had to pump the first few weeks due to latch issues and I own a pump and use it on occasion(Because every time we take a long car ride I am convinced he is somehow going to starve to death… like we wouldn’t pull over eventually when we found an place.  But I am like that).  However Disco-Baby has never taken a bottle of breastmilk because I have yet to leave him… pretty much ever.

However, I have learned from experience that if we go out somewhere exciting Disco-Baby may not be that interested in eating; leaving me with a bit of a problem.  Those of you who breastfeed know that painful oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-burst feeling; those of you who don’t may go through something similar after birth I just do not know.  I have learned to take the pump with me when we go out.  Even though I do not really like pumping and the manual pump I have really sucks (it really meant for an electric pump the hand pumping is more of an after thought)

When I went to a family BBQ not to long ago I ended up just hand expressing a bit in the sink because I didn’t really want to go find the car and bring the pump in.  However this still left me with two non-bouncing boobies for most of the party.  But I managed to avoid excruciating pain at least.

Yesterday we went to The Ex with my mom, my sister, my sister’s best friend, and the hubs for the whole day.  We left the house at 9am and got home at 10pm; and as predicted Disco-Baby wouldn’t eat.  At around 3 I couldn’t take it anymore so I went off to look for the Hubs who was guarding the stroller to get the pump.  However he had been waiting in line for the Super Dogs but they had started letting people in so we went to save seats.  I thought the rest of the gang would be there in a minute and then I could sneak off and pump.  Nope!  They got there 3 minutes before show time, so I sat through the show repeatedly putting Disco-Baby to breast, but he was only interested in the lights, music, dogs, clapping and people.

If the pump had of been in the diaper bag beside us I would have been tempted to pump surrounded by a million people.  After the show I went to pump in the bathroom, but there was a line and it was dirty.  So I went looking for another washroom I thought was nearby.  I was wrong.  I passed the first aid centre while looking for a place to pump and almost begged to use their curtained area.  However, there was only one curtained off area and I didn’t want to take over the whole place.  I finally found the bathroom and started pumping.

I still felt awkward though, is it just me or is there something dirty about pumping?  It was only make worse by being locked in a bathroom stall.  I wouldn’t take my shirt off (which makes it easier) and ended up drenched in milk because it is a single pump.  I turned my shirt around so it was just my back that was soaked.  Because *that* wouldn’t look weird/gross, of course I then changed shirts out in the middle of the games part of the midway, luckily I had just bought a new shirt.  And the real reason I didn’t pump in the first aid station was because they would not only know what I was doing but HEAR what I was doing.

I don’t know why I find pumping in public so awkward and dirty.  I breastfeed everywhere; and when Disco-Baby would not eat with anything touching his face and I didn’t know what I was doing I would practically have my whole boob out, in the Chapters, in front of the window.  But I find pumping icky.  Anyone else feel like that?  Anyone have pumping in public stories to share?

I'm too tired after a day at The Ex and so just a joke:

1. A site called 'Who Represents ' where you can find the name of the agent that represents a celebrity. Their domain name… wait for it… is:
   http://www.whorepresents.com

 

2. Experts Exchange, a knowledge base where programmers can exchange advice and views at:
   http://www.expertsexchange.com

 

3. Looking for a pen? Look no further than Pen Island at:
   http://www.penisland.net

 

4. Need a therapist? Try Therapist Finder at:
   http://www.therapistfinder.com

 

5. Then of course, there's the Italian Power Generator company:
   http://www.powergenitalia.com

 

6. And now, we have the Mole Station Native Nursery, based in New South Wales:
   http://www.molestationnursery.com

 

7. If you're looking for computer software, there's always:
   http://www.ipanywhere.com

 

8. Welcome to the First Cumming Methodist Church Their website is:
   http://www.cummingfirst.com

 

9. Then, of course, there's these brainless art designers, and their whacky website:
   http://www.speedofart.com

 

10. Want to holiday in Lake Tahoe ? Try their brochure website at:
    http://www.gotahoe.com

Birth Control Pills and Legal Rape

  [Edit]

Now that both the US and Canada have made the morning after pill legal and available without a prescription it is time to continue down the path and end the legalized assault of women who choose to use the birth control pill.  Many people are concerned that the morning after pill will now become a regular form of birth control for some women (men of course not being responsible for birth control decisions; but that is a whole other post).  It may become a form of regular birth control, particularly for those who do not have sex very often; this is dangerous and should be discouraged.  However, for some this may be their only choice, because access to birth control pills is strictly controlled.

To get a prescription for birth control pills, at least here in Canada (Ontario), but also true elsewhere you must consent to a PAP test, often as frequently as every 12 months.  Forcing a woman to consent to have her vagina penetrated with a foreign object, the speculum is sexual assault. Sexual Assault is generally defined as:  

Sexual Assault is generally defined as:

Sexual Assault

• Any form of sexual contact without voluntary consent (Adapted from the Criminal Code of Canada, Sec.270).
• Kissing, fondling, sexual intercourse, anal intercourse, and oral sex are all examples of sexual assault if they are done without voluntary consent.
  Consent obtained through pressure, coercion, force, or threats of force is not voluntary consent. [1] 

Also:

Sexual penetration of any orifice of the victim's body by a body part or object, achieved through force, threat of force or coercion>[2]

Although the law varies by country and often by state or province; coercion or force negates consent.  While some women would consent to the PAP test without coercion or force it is there whether the woman chooses to acknowledge it or not.  The threat is that of an unintended pregnancy, or in worse cases continued good health as the birth control pill is used to treat certain medical conditions.  Some would argue that there are other means to prevent pregnancy and this is true, however some women choose not to or are unable to use barrier methods(condoms, diaphragms, cervical caps) and chemical methods (spermicide).  Women are also entitled to make their own medical decisions free from coercion and without the bias of medical practitioners and pharmacists.

An allergy to spermicide also eliminates many barrier methods as they depend on the combination of spermicide and the barrier.  An allergy to latex also makes barrier methods hard to use.  Non latex condoms are expensive and less effective[3].  In addition to all of that diaphragms and cervical caps are less effective if you have previously given birth[4].  Not to mention that using chemical methods (such as sponges, gels, films) require knowing you are going to have intercourse ahead of time (good luck if you have kids).  Also some couples would like the closeness of not using a condom without the risk of pregnancy.

Using diaphragms and cervical caps (except the Lea’s Shield) also requires fitting by a health professional which required consent which woman may be unwilling or unable to give (for religious reasons).

Though the birth control pill is not without its risks such as an increased risk of dangerous blood clots, osteoporosis, and even death; it is a woman’s right to weigh the benefits and risks, in consultation with a knowledgeable and unbiased professional and choose for herself.  This decision should not also rest on her willingness to have a PAP test, which may or may not be an important test that all women should have (see Cervical Specific Antigen and Anti-Malignin Antibody. 

We must empower women to make their own medical decisions and end legal rape.





   

[1] http://www.uofaweb.ualberta.ca/SAC/nav01.cfm?nav01=23613&

[2] http://www.brown.edu/Student_Services/Health_Services/Health_Education/sexual_assault/saar.htm

[3] http://www.contraceptiononline.org/slides/slide01.cfm?q=std&dpg=10

[4] http://www.babycenter.com/refcap/baby/postpartumsex/1375288.html#cap

 

The BBQ was pretty insane...

Firstly it was pretty cold and windy.  Then my BBQ broke and little did I know that it would be an easy fix so I carried on because hubby and cousin said it was not fixable.  Many hours later (after almost everyone had left) one of my friends took a look and popped the hose to the element back on D'oh.  Dammit I shoulda married him... kidding kidding.  Everyone was starved and everything was taking a very long time to cook.

Ironically in my dad's side of the family women (or at least me) were encouraged to learn everything.  I know some plumbing and electrical, I can put together a computer, etc, etc.  But BBQing was for men only.  Unfortunately I married a man who neither knows nor cares about BBQing, not one little bit.

Next time, if we are having that many people over I think I will BBQ the chicken ahead of time and heat it up in the oven.  Of course next time it will be one of those stinkin' hot days where the thought of turning on the oven makes you want to keel over and die and no one will want to eat anything (like my last BBQ where I ended up with TONNES of food left over)

Poor Disco-Baby wouldn't nap before the party so about 2 hours in he passed out and barely opened his eyes when he was handed to me, and then when I put him in his crib.  Of course Hubby didn't expect Disco-Baby to be in his crib so he was woken up.  Don't you worry though; he has gotten his revenge by sleeping badly ever since.  Mom + no sleep = cranky household.  Actually I am in a bit of a funk.  And an article over on Blogging Baby has got me wondering if I should talk to someone about it, even though I have less depressive symptoms now than before I had Disco-Baby.

Also life around here is going insane.  I have a TO DO list that keeps getting longer and longer.  I have put my foot down, we have to file our taxes this week (yeah I know, it is AUGUST), and hubby can deal with his old tax problems whenever he gets around to it (which will be when I put a gun to his head).  Why am I so ethical that I would not sign up for an account on the government webpage in his name so I could access the information?  Why do I keep expecting him to step up and be responsible for his actions?

I have to make a few baby carriers ASAP as on Sunday we are spending the whole day at The Ex and Disco-Baby is anti-stroller and weighs around 25lbs.  Also I really wish I could find the old carrier even though it doesn't really fit him anymore.  My mommy carried me around it and I do not want to admit it is gone.  I know it was in the dog backpack (the one I take when I walk the dog, not one the dog wears).  I remember because we couldn't find it and then when we were out I remembered where it was.  We got home and I looked and there it was and I took it out and put it somewhere.  The next time we were out somewhere and needed it I clearly remember thinking "Oh yeah I put it (blank)".  Yeah and where is that?  We just cleaned almost the whole house and I can not find it.

I also need to see if I can find cheaper TV, phone, and internet service providers as our contract is up and we are poor.  Also we went with our current provider mostly based on how fast they could set us up.  Yeah, I know.

I am also, as usual, dealing with interest relief applications for my student loans (which are of course not going well) and that means I can't deal with my credit card problems.  My credit card company has pissed me off for the last time.  Ok, my account was over-limit and past due (10 days or something) but I was calling because they managed to screw up my address AGAIN and I stopped receiving my mail AGAIN.  (I am supposed to trust these people with my credit?) and they were more interested in forcing me to talk to collections then fixing my address (not to mention I had other things I needed to discuss).  Maybe, just maybe, my bill would be paid if I received it??  (Ok, no it wouldn't have been, but still)

If I had a point to this entry I lost it somewhere, I am rambling because I am exhausted and high on caffeine (which I am going to pay for later when Disco Baby is hyped up, I know). 

 

Oh well, practice makes perfect.

So let's just say despite being a perfect housekeeper you happen to have a little fruit fly problem (after all sometimes you just can't help but end up with a few with all the fresh fruit and veggies) 

Also, in case you didn't know this fruit flies can breed in your drains, so if you have a problem and it doesn't seem to be getting any better clean your drains.  Use baking soda and vinegar: put two tablespoons down the drain, and then pour in an equal amount of vinegar.  Place a snug fitting plug in the drain and let sit for about 5 minutes.  Note: if you have a double sink you will need to block both drains.  Run a bunch of hot water down the drain to stop the reaction and flush out the loosened debris.  Repeat if you suspect it is still gunky down there.  Of course, you can also use something stronger ;-)

To make a fruit fly trap you need an envelope, a cup, scissors and tape OR an elastic. 


Now you have a use for those annoying junk mail envelopes.




Put the envelope in the cup so you can judge where to cut, you want between 1" and 2" of overhang.




Cut a curved line to make a cone




Cut a small hole in the bottom, about 1/4"




Place the paper cone in the cup and gently fold over the overhang




Bait the trap with whatever your fruit flies like.  I find a little water in the bottom helps attract the flies and prevent the fruit from drying out.




Please the cone back on the cup and secure with tape or an elastic.



The fruit flies will go in and be unable to find their way out (stupid fruit flies).  You can either take the trap outside and release the fruit flies then reuse the trap.  Or if you don't want to deal with it, chuck the whole thing in the trash.  It is best to clean out/replace the trap every day or two.  If you leave it longer than two days you end up with little fruit fly maggots..... yuck.

Hope this was helpful.

I know I've been AWOL for a couple of days and you all have missed me . 

Disco-Baby has been sick.  Nothing too serious, but he had blood in some diarrhea and while I was sure he was fine as he wasn't acting sick it worried me none-the-less.  (Not to mention the laundry)

I've been preparing my blog to a new site as I am getting free unlimited webspace and bandwidth in exchange for doing some web set up and design for the company my husband works for.  

Also I am hosting a BBQ on Sunday for all my friends, most of who have never been to my house in the two years since we moved.  Most of them probably won't come now.  You see we are in the burbs and they live downtown, and apparently you need a passport or something <lol>  The planning of this BBQ has only served to remind me why we don't get together with our friends more often; it isn't that we are anti-social, though we are, it is that they are impossible to get in touch with let alone make plans with.  I can't even count the number of e-mails and phone calls we have made and still at least 10 people haven't gotten back to us.  Also we started planning this whole thing about 5 weeks ago, and rather that just pick a date we called one of hubby's workaholic friends and asked what date he could possibly be free for and even he is just a "maybe" now.

This is not what I meant when I told Disco-Baby I wanted him to be an avid bookworm:

This is not a simple case, I do not know this woman nor do I truly know what happened in this case, only what I read in the news.  But I believe that this woman, this mother, did what she believed to be in the best interest of her child.  Maybe she is an unfit mother, I do not know, but without any evidence I am willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Every one of us has the right to make our own medical choices, no matter the evidence that our choices are wrong; and each of us who are blessed with being parents have the duty to make medical decisions for our child, in concert with any other guardians/parents that child may have.  This responsibility should not and must not be left up to doctors, social workers, or policy makers.  Only in cases where a patient is not mentally competent and there is no other next of kin, power of attorney for health matters, or living will should the courts be allowed to make those decisions for us.  In cases where there is no living will, no appointed decision maker, no clear idea of what the person wants and there is a disagreement between kin should the courts step in and even then only to decide with whom the power to make the decision resides, and not the decision itself.

Another truth that should be self-evident is that you can NOT be forced to undergo any medical procedure or treatment for the benefit of another (or others).  This has been ignored from time to time and still is.  It is always wrong.  There is little difference between forcing someone to give blood to save someone else, forcing a mother to have a c-section for the benefit of her baby, and forcing someone to donate an organ(one you can live without) so a stranger can live.

Ostensibly, this article says this woman was convicted of refusing to take antiretroviral therapy and refusing to undergo a c-section.  This is not the case.  She could not be and was not convicted for anything that happened prenatally.  I do not know what happened between her first pregnancy and her second pregnancy that caused her to change her mind and not take the antiretroviral therapy.  I do not know if she was aware that she would now be "allowed" to delivery vaginally if she took antiretroviral therapy during her entire pregnancy and her viral load was below a certain level (1,000 copies per millilitre) and she agreed that her baby would receive antiretroviral therapy during his first 72 hours.  I do not know why she went off the antiretroviral therapy even though it had reduced her vital load to zero.

I do not know, because thank God, I have never had to look into HIV drugs and therapies.  I have never had to balance the risks of passing HIV to my baby with the risks of taking the drugs (both to myself and the baby).  There really isn't, to the best of my knowledge, very much in the way of long term study on the effects of these drugs on the developing brain.  I do know that these drugs can have devastating side effects in adults.  However, she had the absolute right to make a (hopefully informed) decision.  She also had the right to decide not to have her son treated or tested.

You may not agree with her choices, I am sure no-one not even she would have chosen this outcome.  To be without her children (the article says they were taken but CAS will not confirm whether they have them so may have them back) and her son with HIV.  But I will defend until my last breath my choice to have informed consent OR refusal for both myself and my minor children.  Do not judge this woman at least until you have heard her side of the story.  You do not know what it is like to walk in her shoes and why she made the decision she did.  Judge not lest ye be judged.

Well Disco-Baby it has been five long months.  There have been extreme lows and highs.  There are things I wish I could do over so I could change them and things I wish I could to again so I could enjoy them more or take more photos(like when you went swimming for the first time).

I wish I could go back in time and not go to the hospital; I wish I had had more faith in myself.  I wish I had tried things at home to reposition you but I just didn't think you were in the wrong position.  It is only with hindsight that I can see you were probably facing the wrong way.  I wish I had of left the hospital when they said you were tolerating labour well and there was no abruption.  I wish I hadn't let them whisk you away for a dumb reason right after birth.  Not bonding with you was my biggest fear and I am left with lingering doubts, because I didn't get to spend time with your when you were born, and that first week you felt like property of the hospital.  Know that I didn't leave your side except when I had to.  The hardest moment of my life was leaving the hospital without you.  I think I lasted four hours before I was begging go back.  I think it was almost 6 hours by the time we made it back.

I wish I hadn't let them cow me in the hospital.  I wish I had of demanded to see the doctor to tell me what was in the IV before it was too late and they had you sooo hopped up on sugar and excess water that they lied and said your kidney's weren't working.  I can not tell you the panic when I thought you would need dialyses and a transplant or would possibly die.  I thought it was all my fault.

I wish I had told the to jump off a bridge when the kept telling me to give you formula because you "they" needed to keep your blood sugar at some unreasonable level after all the glucose.  I should have paid more attention to the poster about infant stomach size.  I should have listened to my heart.  But in all honestly I poured most of the formula on you, instead of getting it in you.  <lol> 

I wish at any point we had of left the hospital AMA, but when you are locked in, sleep deprived and your hormones are insane it is hard to do.  The stress affected our nursing relationship, I could not nurse under the stress; especially after they started weighing you before and after each feed.  When the doc said we could go home you took so much food.  I forget how much but it was a lot, whereas for the 20 hours before we could not get any in you from my breast and I cup fed you.  Our nursing relationship has never really recovered.  Your latch is only about 70%.  Nursing you isn't really enjoyable, and sometimes it is, while not painful, annoying in a nails on the chalkboard kind of way.

But you came home and I didn't have to put you down anymore, and I didn't let anyone near you.  I had trouble letting people hold you.  Your dad and I changed your diapers and your Dad gave you your first bath because I was too nervous.  I cut you fingernails, and your fingers (more than once).  The first time it seemed as if I had cut off a huge chuck and you would need stitches and have a scar for life.  I panicked; luckily your dad was there.  And speaking of scars, you still have scars on your legs from the socks, and I suspect you will have them for many many years, if not forever.  I am sorry, but honestly I do not see how I could see that coming.

You learned to hold you head up, when you were four days old.

You were a couple of weeks old and you had a diaper rash.  I was trying to leave you naked but you were sleeping and I needed to put you down so I tried to lay you in a quilt in a Knob Hill Basket, and you didn't fit.  Your head and butt were jammed into the ends and your legs stuck straight up.  What did you do to deserve such an awful mommy?

I know most of your early pictures show you in your swing, or lying down on your own.  I want you to know I held you almost constantly but I took 95% of all the photos and well I couldn't photograph you in my arms.

You learned to roll over really early, but I was always making excuses, saying it was because you were on an unlevel surface, or it was because of how I laid you down.  I didn't want to admit you were growing so fast.  You fell of the couch onto a piled up quilt and off the bed onto a quilt on top of a pile of laundry, at least you have good aim.

You have learned to sit up, your dad and I were proud and yet sad the first time you could sit in a shopping cart.  We are glad you are doing so well, but it is sad to see you grow up so quickly.  Once when you were about two months old you fell asleep while we were shopping and we laid you down in the child seat.  You were so cute.

At four months you weighed 20lbs and were too long for your infant seat.  We just bought you a new car seat but we couldn't install it.  We are trying to book an appointment for the police to do it, but it is taking forever.  See you got the worst parents ever.

Singing "Mnah Mnah" always stops you from crying.  I can not stand to hear you cry.  It makes me nauseous, and if it gets worse I can not think, my heart races and I can taste the adrenaline pumping through my veins.  I do not understand why other people think a baby crying is cute.  And to all the people who say it is the only exercise you get, they obviously never met you.  You held your head up from the 4^th day and you kick your legs constantly.  I always know when you are tired because it is the only time your arms aren't in the air reaching, grabbing, or just moving.

I have been away from you 5 times.  Three times I went to the park a block from our house without you, twice I left you with Grandma Steeves and once with Daddy.  I also let Daddy drive you in a separate car on a family trip.  The drive was only 20 minutes and it still almost killed me.  The first time I left you with grandma you were about a week old,  I made it halfway through the park and I was so sick I had to come back.  Grandma Pounder wants to take you away for weekends and weeks when you are older.  I can not see being apart from you that long ever.

Your eyes are such a beautiful light blue, but no one can tell if your hair will be blonde or red.  Everyone kinda wants you to have red hair but we will love you anyway.

Both your great-grandmas come and see you at least once a week.  I hope you get to know them well.  They are both great women in their own way. 

Your step-grandfather who we named you after was one of the greatest men that ever lived.  He was so happy; he would find joy in everything.  Every night he deeply enjoyed grandmas cooking no matter what she made.  He loved planes and cars and hockey.  He made friends with everyone he met.  He wanted to be the first person to hold you after you were born, and I was soo deeply crushed when we learned he would never meet you; he went downhill so quickly.  I got to spend a lot of time in the hospital with him, and for that I am glad.  I almost went to an OB just to get an ultrasound so he could see you before he died.  But I knew that was silly.  He wanted you to be a hockey player after he found out what we were going to call you.  He said your name would look perfect on the Stanley cup.  Your grandpa loved you more in those few months than most people love someone in their lifetime.  I am so sad you didn't meet him; I hope somehow you will be just like him.

The whole time I was pregnant I knew you would be a boy, even though I wouldn't admit it.  I also didn't want to admit it when I got pregnant.  I knew probably the first or second day after you were conceived.  I hated telling people I was pregnant and your daddy wanted to shout it from the rooftops.  Literally, I had to keep him off the roof.

If I ever guilt you about the morning sickness, or the four days of labour, or the stretch marks, or anything else that happened because I was pregnant.  Know that I am kidding, my first thought after I gave birth to you was that was awesome and I want to do it again.  I am, in some ways, sad that you will never be able to experience it, but I am sure it was indescribably amazing for your dad as well.  I am not a huge fan of being pregnant, only because I do not like being fussed over.  But I hope one day you will have lots of brothers and sisters.

You kick me, constantly, but I love you anyway.  I have been extremely tired lately because of a lot of things, staying up, stress, and your nap strike.  So in the morning I wake up and feed you and then pretend to go back to sleep hoping your dad will get up.  You roll over and kick him in the balls until he wakes up, then you smile.  Usually he closes his eyes again.  Then you roll over and dig your nails into my nipples.  I guess you are a morning person <lol> your parents are not.  Although you are usually only up for 30 to 60 minutes then you go down for a two hour nap, so maybe you hate the mornings as much as we do.

You love blankies, and sheets.  You think stuffed toys are just ok, and other toys hold your attention only briefly.  (Except the toys on your exersaucer those you love).  You also love spoons, and bake ware, the remote control, and pulling hair.  Today you started to enjoy being flung up above our heads.  Your giggles are so cute (although for the first week you would only giggle for Jane.  She calls you her boyfriend)

You love dogs, all dogs, but Kenny most of all.  All you want to do is get down and play with the dogs when we go to the dog park.  The other owners get upset when their dogs lick you, but you secretly love it.  You love to touch them and watch them.  You don't even mind when they sit on you.  Kenny isn't terribly fond of you, he generally avoids you.  But I am sure once you have food to share you two will become fast friends (and the poor guy is going to end up weighing 100lbs).

The girls across the street: Sierra and Sage (and probably Arden though it is too hard to tell, she is younger than you) love you dearly and you flirt horribly with them.  It is so cute.  Sage always runs over and says "Wes-el-lee, Wess-el-lee".  Her mom won't let her kiss you on the lips so sometimes she kisses your feet.  You probably think you are king of the universe.  There are lots of other kids around here.  I hope you have tonnes of friends.

Your dad and I always try to do what is best for you, but some decisions are very hard to make.  I hope you understand that we always wanted what was best, and that we love you and will love you always.

You've spent last week and a bit so frustrated that you can not crawl, can not keep your foot in your mouth and can not always get your hands to do what you want.  Here is hoping in the next month you learn to crawl.  I can't wait until you can talk and tell me what you are thinking (though I am sure sometimes I will wish you had never learned).  We just borrowed a jolly jumper, I hope you like it.  It is monthiversary present, I guess.

I will love you always.  Happy Monthiversary.