The Honeymoon Is Over

The first couple weeks being back at work were great. I won’t lie.

The quiet bus ride, sipping a latte. The morning chit chat with co-workers where people talked about stuff OTHER than how long their baby did or did not sleep last night. The meetings where tasks were assigned and lists were made. The peaceful time at my desk, being ‘Creative Amanda’, writing scripts, with all my favourite photos of Rhys cycling by in my digital picture frame. The lunches that I could eat, at my own pace. The steaming afternoon coffee that was still hot when I swallowed the last drop. Heck, I even got to be on set again, saying hi and catching up with all the crew members I used work with on a monthly basis in my past life. I was me again. It felt great.

Now that I’ve been back, just shy of a month, it’s dawning on me that waking up at 6am every day, no matter that I only slept for 2 or 3 hours because of a sick, restless toddler, is a permanent reality. That time to blog (and read blogs)and go the gym, oh – and connect with my husband in a meaningful way, are falling off the to do list fast. By the time the evening has unfolded there isn’t any time. I’m not the type of person who will stay up until midnight to ‘get things done’. Sleep is a precious commodity I don’t take for granted. I’ve already experienced afternoons at work where, if only I had a more private work area, I wouldn’t have hesitated to rest my head on my desk and have a power nap.

I am so tired.

The house is messy. The clothes are dirty. The shrubs in the yard are unkempt and unruly. The garbage can in the kitchen is beginning to stink. The potted plants are brown, and yet, they remain on the front steps to greet visitors. The highchair and stroller are caked with smashed cheerios and applesauce. The fridge is full of nutritious food that has wilted and died while I cooked frozen pizza for the 3rd time in a week. And, when there is a moment or two where I could actually clean or be productive in some way, all I want to do is SIT. And beat myself up for not being more energetic.

I’m sure I can’t blame the fatigue entirely on being back at work, because it’s not like I was saving the world in my spare time before. In fact, if I’m being truly honest, I think I’d be even more tired if I wasn’t back at work.

Simply put, Rhys is just a handful these days. I’ve gotta say, 13 months is not my favourite age thus far. He’s walking and exploring which is lovely, but his little world is still revolving solely on his selfish instincts and any time he cannot touch or hold or eat or climb that ONE THING he has his heart set on, it’s a catastrophic event in his mind. He can’t communicate his moods, his preferences, his discomfort, his boredom, his hunger, his fatigue...all he can do is whine and cry and scream and stomp his feet. If I was still at home every day, all day, with him at this stage, I would probably lock myself in the bathroom and cry.

I want to write about this phase, because by writing about it I’m reminding myself that it is, indeed, a phase.

Another 'Parenting Right of Passage'

This story begins with a boy who hadn’t had a dirty diaper all day.

And ends with that boy’s mother yelling down the hall to her husband during bathtime...”Come quick! We’ve got FLOATERS!”.

We'll let your imagination fill in the middle bits.

Mister Happy Uses A Spoon

Today was the first day in a long time (about 2-3 weeks) that Rhys was being his old happy self again. Since starting daycare he's been plagued with ear infections, a runny nose, pink eye, a sore throat, and countless restless, miserable nights.

So when he was flashing me with smiles tonight I grabbed the video camera and let it roll.

How I've missed you, my sweet little man.

Widescreen version HERE.

"Motherly"

Yesterday Warren had his first official 'Daddy Day' with Rhys. Today was the first day of our new 'work day' routine, where Warren takes Rhys to daycare and picks him up. He picked him up around 3:15pm, and since I don't get home until 5:30pm, he had even more alone time with Rhys today. We had this conversation tonight after dinner at his brother's house...

Amanda: I've noticed a change in you, already.

Warren: What do you mean?

Amanda: Like tonight, when we were leaving, you knew where Rhys' shoes were when I asked.

Warren: Yah, because I was the one who took them off.

Amanda: And, you buckled Rhys into his carseat without asking me to help or check that it was tight enough.

Warren: Um Hmmm.

Amanda: And after bath time, you didn't dissappear into the office to check Facebook, instead you hung around to help straighten up his room and see if I wanted you to read him his bedtime story...It's like you've suddenly...become...

Warren: More Motherly?

Amanda: Yes! More Motherly. It's awesome.

(Editor's note: I do not want to imply, in any way, that Warren never used to help or do things with Rhys on his own. That couldn't be further from the truth. But I think us 'Mothers' have a certain way we hover and do things and want things done that is very different from how fathers function. So it stood out very strongly to me when Warren started functioning that way.)

Extra

This photo was missed in my Folk Fest post...

First Day

A few people have asked me, "Why Wednesday? Why start work again in the middle of the week?".

There is a method to my madness, people.

Wednesdays are still Warren's day off, so we decided that Rhys would stay home from daycare on Wednesdays to have a 'Daddy Day'. I liked the idea of going back to work on a 'Daddy Day' so that our morning could be a bit more relaxed, and I could check in as much as I wanted to see how Rhys was doing. This worked out great, because I was super relaxed at work, plus Rhys had his one-year shots yesterday, so today he got to have a much needed extra nap since he was home with Warren and not on the daycare's schedule.

The other reason was that I wanted to have a short week this week (3 days) and another short week next week (4 days, because it's a long weekend). Also, I wanted to be paid for the holiday Monday.

See? Makes perfect sense.

It was totally surreal being back to my old routine, but at the same felt like an old hat. I had underestimated how much I love the people I work with.

Started the day with a tour around the floors with my boss, to meet new people, say hello to old colleagues and learn who had been promoted or moved to another team.

Next was a 'coffee meeting' at the new Tim Horton's next door. Got the low-down on what has been happening over the last year in our department.

Then my email was set-up and I got to respond to all the lovely messages of 'Welcome back!'.

Up next, a Team Lunch at the new pub near by. Shot the breeze, talked about movies & TV Shows and got to know a couple of my new co-workers a bit better.

The afternoon was spent looking at all the great work our team has done lately, and getting my desk area set-up (aka - littering my desk area with photos of Rhys!).

As you can see, I didn't do a whole lot of 'work' on my first day back at work.

Tomorrow, nose to the grindstone!

The worst part of the day was on my bus ride home when the bus driver alerted us that there had been TWO car accidents on our route home, slowing both directions of traffic. Longest bus ride ever. It was torture waiting that long to get home and see Rhys. Luckily that was anomaly and the ride home should be much quicker tomorrow...

Triumphant Return

Back when I was pregnant, and in the early days after Rhys was born, there were 2 questions I was asked a lot, that in my mind kind of contradicted each other. The first was, "Are you taking the full year?". In Canada, working women can take one full year off after their child is born, and the Federal Government will pay them to do it. Seems like a no-brainer. I can think of a handful of reasons why someone would choose to take less than the full year, but I assume most people take it all. The way this question was asked always seemed to imply the thought that 'You're obviously going back to work, but WHEN will you be going back'.

Then came the second question, 'Will you be going back to work?", which was always an annoying question because, hello, my baby is 3 days old! I don't want to think about this right now! And also because, unlike the first question, this one seemed loaded with a hidden agenda, like the person was trying to gage how much I loved my baby, or how important 'being a mom' was to me, or something.

Or, maybe I'm just overly sensitive and people were simply trying to make conversation because they were uncomfortable because my boob was hanging out.

From the get go, my plan was to return to work. My first day back to work is tomorrow, and I've barely had time to process that. With birthdays, and daycare, and ear infections and Folk Fest, July is a blur and I haven't thought about it in too much detail. It will be like pulling off a bandaid, and perhaps that is a good thing.

I'm thankful that daycare is going well, and Rhys will be home with Warren on my first day back. I kind of have that feeling you'd get as a kid, at the end of summer holidays when you had all your new school clothes and new stationary stuff and you had butterflies in your tummy because you couldn't wait to see all your friends, but then after 2 days of being back you realised 'Ick! I'm back at school!' and suddenly you wanted it to be summer again. That's what I'm in for, I expect.

To psyche myself up, I dug up an old blog entry from way back in April 2008.

It was called 10 Things I Love About My Office Job . Maybe in a month or so, I can update the list, but for now it was great for a chuckle.

Now, what does one wear on the first day of her Triumphant Return To The Work Place?

Folk Fest 2010

Over the years - 10 years or so - the Calgary Folk Music Festival has become somewhat of a religion in my family. Warren met my dad for the first time at Folk Fest. I used to wake up really early and head down to Prince's Island park and line up at 6am, before the gates were even open, just so I could rush the main stage with all the other crazies, and lay down our tarps to claim some prime real estate. My program would be marked up with circles and stars mapping out my journey for the day...which stages and which bands I wanted to see. A late afternoon nap under a shady tree wasn't unheard of. I'd saunter lazily through the artist's market and shop for handmade jewelry, scarves and jaunty caps. We'd all warm ourselves with a coffee and the mandatory festival Indian cuisine as the sun set behind the trees. I'd stay until the last song had played, and the last ghostly lantern had winded it's way through the crowd. Only to repeat the ritual the next day.

This year was a bit different.

But equally as special, memorable and worth the effort.

This year, for Warren & I, it wasn't so much about the music. It was more about chasing the shade, finding space for Rhys to explore and keeping everyone hydrated. And with us being the luckiest parents in the world, we also had family around us to help entertain Rhys and give us a break. The weather was glorious. Folk Fest was the perfect backdrop for a family weekend outdoors in the city, and I know each year it will get better and better as Rhys learns to dance and appreciate the worldly grooves. Rhys may have been baptized at 3 months old, but at just over one year old, he's been 'baptized' into the religion of...Folk Fest.

It was also the perfect punctuation mark to my incredible year off.

2Tired2Blog

Ooof. And I thought Folk Fest was exhausting BEFORE having a kid...

Hopefully I'll have a shiny new card reader tomorrow so I can post some photos :-)

Highlight of today? Spending 1.5 hours in the beer gardens while Rhys slept in the stroller beside me.

Two. Relaxing. Uninterupted. Beers.

On a hot summer's day.

Thank-you, my sweet little angel boy.

Folk Fest Highlight #1

Last night, as we were packing up our gear to leave Folk Fest, a man who had been sitting next to us came up to Warren and said, "You have a very well behaved, handsome son", and then he shook Warren's hand.

Huh. I didn't think Rhys was being anything but a typical one year old. Not really wanting to stay in one place very long, watermelon juice dripping down his face onto his white shirt, not wanting to fall asleep... But thank-you Mr. Nice Stranger! Thank-you very much!

Moral of this story? If you ever see a family with a young child/children, do not hesitate to compliment them on their child/children. It will totally make their day!

Hopefully we have more 'nice stranger' stories to share tomorrow...now we're off for a fun filled day of music, dancing, food and all-around-general-hippy-ness. Oh, and hopefully some napping.

Photo-less

Oh, how I wish our card reader was working! Then I could simply post cute, witty photos to count as my daily contribution.

So far today has been a good day, for me. With Rhys at daycare, I have no idea what his day has been like so far. That bothers me. This is going to take some getting used to...

Dropped Rhys off, then headed to Chinook Mall for my dentist appointment. Had an hour to kill so I bought a gossipy magazine, a double Americano and an apple strudel. Heavenly. Then picked up some ice packs and bungee cords from Zellers (needed them for folk fest...). Yup, having a dentist in one the biggest malls in Canada is pretty awesome.

Then came the appointment. My dentists' office has TV's in each room AND they have a lady who gives you a hand or foot massage while you get your work done. I went for the hand massage, because it just seemed wrong to have someone touch my feet at the dentist.

After that ,I shopped for jeans and actually had some luck! Thank-you Shawna for suggesting American Eagle Outfitters! Why had I never shopped there before?

Now I'm prepping for Folk Fest tonight. Hopefully Rhys had a fabulous nap at daycare so that he'll be in could spirits tonight. Again, I hate not knowing how his day is going.

Wish us luck!

Dr. Mom (and Dad)

Last night is now a distant haze, and I don't really want to relive it all here. But I'll relive some. It started off innocently enough, Rhys fell fast asleep without a peep.

I was chatting with my dad on the phone around 8:30pm when I heard Rhys squawk. "Gotta go, Rhys is crying".

He didn't stop crying until 1:30am. We put a lot of miles on the 'ole rocking chair last night, since that was the only thing that would help him settle. But put him back down...and screams. The worst, frantic, painful screams. The entire night was a stressful, frustrating, heartbreaking game of 'try to guess what is wrong'. Is it his teeth? Are his eyes still itchy? Is it separation anxiety? It's Daycare! This all our fault! Is he hot, cold? Maybe he has an ear infection? Is he frustrated with his sleepsack? Maybe indigestion from the fish sticks? We tried everything...Tylenol, burping, coddling, water...he was inconsolable. Convinced he simply just 'missed us' we attempted twice to get him to sleep with us in bed, something we have never done before.

How do other families co-sleep? Seriously, he tossed and turned, and sat up, and screamed, and rolled, and screamed and rubbed his face into the bed...so that didn't last.

Finally after some tears he fell asleep for an hour or so in his crib. Then he woke again at 3am, screaming, crying, etc. Again with the guessing game, but this time Warren & I are delirious with fatigue and stress and start arguing and getting snippy with each other, thinking every idea or theory the other person has is stupid.

Warren: Okay, don't yell at me, hear me out, but maybe it's...

Amanda: Stop it! This is NOT because of the cupcake they gave him at daycare! I've had enough of your sugar-phobia, damn it!

Ya, it wasn't pretty. But stress and lack of sleep aren't a good mix, and then add in the screams of an inconsolable child and blood pressures are sure to rise. We weren't at our best.

At 5am, after many more attempts at rocking him to sleep, we brought him, once again, to our bed. He was wide awake. We came to terms with the fact that our day was likely going to be starting at 5am and turned on the cartoons and gave him some milk. Soon after that...propped up and nestled into Warren's shoulder, he was snoring. Warren soon followed, then I did too. We slept together, our exhausted family of three, half sitting up in our king size bed until 7am.

Long story short - went to the doctor and the culprit is...ear infection.

Sometimes I wish I'd gone to medical school, so that I could be a Doctor, instead of just playing one on TV.

And now we go UP.

As my friend Keri said in the comments, we've been on a bit of rollercoster lately. This morning was a DOWN. Rhys had separation anxiety. But, now, at the end of the day, we are on a big UP. Arrived to pick him up at 2:45pm, he was happy and enjoying a snack and thrilled to see us. He was handing out smiles to everyone. His eye was totally cleared up. He napped for 1 hour and 45 minutes! He had fish sticks for lunch - his first fish ever! He stayed up an extra hour tonight and went to bed at 6:20pm. Mmmmm...I'm so proud of him.

(Note to grandparents: sorry for the lack of Rhys photos. Our card reader is dead...hopefully we'll get a new one soon!).

Tweet.

Rhys had a good night last night. Slept right through without incident. His eye goop was gone this morning and he was back to his normal self, somewhat. He's definitely a bit more needy that usual. When we dropped him off he did.not.want.us.to.leave. Tears in the morning for the first time. Aida was saying "You must go, you must go. He see you, he cries...". Back to wallowing in my mommy guilt for another day...

(I'm not on twitter, so this is kind of like a blog-tweet. Did I go over the character limit? Need to learn twitter shorthand I guess...).

Miracle of Miracles

When I tell people Rhys is going to be in daycare when I'm back to work, a common response is "It'll be tough, you'll shed a few tears, but he'll eventually really like it". "Shed a few tears?", I'd wonder, "Why, because I'll miss him? ". That seemed unlikely (the tears part). I mean, he was coming back. It's not like he's gone forever. He's just at daycare.

But yesterday proved them right.

To start off the day, Rhys had had a terrible night on Sunday night. Up every hour or so. Screaming. Miserable. He was a bit groggy in the morning, but still cheerful. The drop-off went well. It was rainy and grey outside, so I knew it would be a long day for him indoors.

I missed him, but it was something else, too. I felt kind of lost. No direction. No focus. On edge. I'd get teary, wondering how he was doing.

Then came time to pick him up. Warren was home so he came with me. "You know, with our luck, the first day you come with me to get him will be the day he's crying his head off" I joked, and we both laughed uncomfortably.

We walked through the doors, and....well. We both recognized that cry. He was standing by a table, crying, with dark circles under his red, tired eyes. My heart cracked into a thousand pieces. A caregiver swooped him up and consoled him, then looked at us, "He just started crying a second ago". It cracked into a thousand more pieces because I knew I'd never know if she was being truthful. Then Aida came to me. "Oh boy," she said. "He only napped today for thirty minutes. He had a good morning, but the afternoon, not good". I had never seen him that tired. His eyes were red from him rubbing them. He just looked beaten.

So we rushed him home so he could nap and get the rest he desperately needed. But instead, he screamed and screamed and we rocked him and cradled him but nothing worked. He slept for 10 minutes, that's it. We played with him but he was seriously going to collapse. So we bathed him and he was in bed by 5:20p. His night was slightly better than Sunday, but still rough. Up at 8:30p, 10:30p, 3a, and 6a. Screaming. Exhausted. That evening and night I cried and cried and cried and hated myself for ruining his life and breaking him. He seemed broken.

Morning came and he was happy. His eyes were crusty from a restless sleep, but he was happy. Off to daycare. Happy. We thought positive thoughts and prayed for a better nap today.

I had coffee with a friend, did some grocery shopping and when I came home Warren was home too. "I'm going crazy here! When can we go get him?". At 2:30p we drove down, preparing for the worst. Walked in, no crying. Good sign. Went around the corner and entered his room. He was sitting on Aida's lap, eyes red and sore and tired. My heart sank. He smiled when he saw us.

"Oh!", Aida said, "We just had a fight...I was washing his eyes, he doesn't like that...his eyes been dripping all day." Turns out, the goop we noticed in his eyes this morning was a sign of something more sinister. So she suggested we get some eye drops for him, but still bring him in tomorrow because he did really well today and she doesn't want to break the momentum. Also might be one of the reasons he's been sleeping poorly at home and rubbing his eyes so much.

My son, Rhys, slept for 1 hour and 30 minutes at daycare today. THANK YOU JESUS.

Pacing.

I'm home alone with a list of things to do, to keep me busy.

But, instead of tackling the list, I'm pacing the hall. Eating a cucumber.

I can't focus.

I never thought this would be easy, but I didn't expect it to be this hard.

Daycare Day 2, Continued...

Continued...

When I got into the car after leaving Rhys at the daycare, I called Warren from the parking lot. "I'm coming home now", I said. "What? Why? Is the daycare closed?". "I'm coming home WITHOUT RHYS", I replied. "Whaaat? Oh.".

Walking through the front door was so strange. I made myself a bowl of cereal and a coffee and checked my blog list and Facebook. The phone rang. My heart jumped. But it wasn't the daycare, it was Warren's mom. "Thought you & Rhys might want to come to the Britannia Pancake Breakfast at 10:3oam. Rhys would love the music!". Nope, Rhys is at daycare. Ugh.

I used the time alone to clean up the house and backyard as there was still a bit of mess from the party. I found homes for Rhys' new toys & books & clothes. I found myself wanting to check his video baby monitor, only to remember seconds later that he wasn't home. Then I had this urge to tidy up his room really nice, and I hung some items on his walls that were gifts that I hadn't gotten around to hanging until now, and I folded all his clothes really nice and rearranged his closet. It was like he'd been away at camp and I was preparing his room for his return. Or something.

I had a glorious shower and even blow-dried my hair. Then off to the bank and then to pick him up.

When I got there Rhys and the other kids were sitting in there booster seats having their snack of banana & watermelon. Rhys looked up and saw me and pointed. Aida took him out and changed his diaper and handed him to me. Rhys smiled and pushed his face into mine and then squeezed his arms around my shoulders. He really squeezed me. It was lovely. That's not something he does. It was as if he was saying "I love you mommy! I remember you! You are still my favorite!".

"Tell me everything!", I asked Aida "How was nap time?". "Well," she said, "he only slept for 40 minutes". She's right. That isn't very long, especially considering he usually has two 1.5 hour naps at home. But at the same time, I was impressed that he slept at all. The kids nap on little mattresses on the floor, with a blanket on top of them. At home, Rhys sleeps alone, in his crib in a sleepsack. The concept of him sleeping with others around him, not in a crib, seemed so odd to me.

She said he was very confused when the lights went dark. He refused his soothie and tossed it aside. She washed it and then he took it. She stroked his leg and he pushed her hand away. She stroked his chest and he pushed her away again. She sat beside him and eventually he lied down and fell asleep. She was eating her lunch in another room when she heard him babbling (very LOUDLY she said). Him and one other girl were awake and she wasn't sure who woke up first. He sat on her lap after that playing with a book. Despite his lowsy nap he was in a good mood, and after a minute or so in my arms he wanted down and ran to the barnyard toy thing again.

When we got home we played for about half an hour and I put him down for a nap. He slept for 2 hours (and so did I). So I'm really hoping next week he slowly gets the hang of napping longer at daycare because he doesn't get a second nap there once I'm back to work. For now, though, I'm around to pick him up early so he can nap at home if needed. That's why were doing it this way.

Last night was one of the best nights with Rhys we'd had in a while. He woke up from his nap at 5:30pm and he was really hungry. Ate a lot of dinner, then the 3 of us hung out in the yard playing, splashing, wagon riding, digging in the dirt, chasing dogs, until bath time at 7:30pm. He was out like a light after that.

Daycare

Now that Rhys is one, so has begun our transition to daycare. I have another week and a half before going back to work, so our plan is to ease him in, a bit longer each day so that by the time I go back he's used to it. And frankly, I need to be eased in just as much as he does.

Yesterday, the day after his birthday, was his first official day.

Daycare, Day 1:

Rhys woke up at 7am. We brought him to our bed to drink his milk and watch cartoons while we 'woke up'. Then had to quickly give him breakfast and I had to actually get dressed and put on makeup before 8:30am. Unheard of on Mat Leave! I gathered up all his daycare stuff and we were out the door by 9am.

As soon as we got there he was walking around playing with all the stuff and exploring. The caregivers said that was a great sign, because they said a lot of first-timers cry at the noise & stimulation of being in the centre, when they're used to the quiet of home. It was a quiet day in his age group - only 4 kids when there can be up to 8 - but there are 2 other age groups in the centre.

The main care giver in his age group is this FABULOUS woman named Aida. She is an older, Polish woman with a thick polish accent. Very grandma-type. I really like her. She's been working with babies for 25 years and you can tell. Her & I took the 4 kids on a walk in the 4-baby stroller. She would pull twigs and leaves from the trees and show the kids how to smell them and touch them. Rhys had his first 'Digestive' cookie while one that walk.

I'd heard stories of women who sat in their cars crying after taking their kids to daycare. I never anticipated being emotional. But, on this walk, while I watched him in that stroller with the other kids, interacting with Aida, my eyes swelled with tears. I seriously had to hide my face, because I wasn't wearing sunglasses. But it suddenly occurred to me why people have those silly 'kindergarten graduation' ceremonies. I realised that, at the tender young age of One, Rhys was 'graduating' to a new stage in his life. This was a big deal. The cord was being cut, just a little bit more...and mixed in with my sadness, was also pride.

Then back at the daycare she fed them lunch. Spaghetti. She suggested I leave the room in case my presence distracted him from eating (she clearly doesn't know my son!). I re-entered the room and stood behind a bookcase about part way through, and just watched. Rhys didn't see me and I don't think Aida did either. He was eating so much (2 bowls full!) Aida started asking him, in her polish accent, "Rhys, you tell me, top secret...who do you get your appetite from? Mom or Dad? Hundreds like you! I want hundreds just like you!". Made my heart melt.

That took us to about 11:30am, and I brought Rhys home for his nap. Gramma Patsy came over and we played in the backyard with all his new toys in the afternoon.

Today, Daycare Day 2:

This morning we were out the door by 8:30am, and my plan was to stay until lunch, and leave him there to eat and nap.

Got there, Rhys did a b-line for the little barnyard toy thing, Aida started playing peek-a-boo with him, and she asked me if I planned to stay again today. "Well, I certainly could!" I replied. "Oh, you should go. You should go...look at him, he's happy" she said.

Ooookaaaay. So, I kissed him goodbye and he barely even looked up. Which, truthfully, is what I wanted. Much better than having him scream and cry with his arms extended as I left.

So, now I'm at home, the whole day to myself (I'm picking him up after his nap at 2:30p), and the rest is still unwritten...

A Birthday In Pictures

Yesterday was Rhys's 1st Birthday. When my brother Adam showed up he asked me "Who the heck has a party on a Wednesday night?".

I do, that's who.

First, the PONY we got Rhys for his Birthday:

Playing with his new water transportation station:

Gathered around his new bubble lawnmower with Uncle James & Aunt Kayley:

Wagon!:

And, the moment I'd been waiting for! :

To top off the evening, we hauled everyone into the Pub for an exclusive VIP screening of his birthday video.

And now, for the World Premier! Click Here To Watch.

When I watch it, I can't believe it's only documenting one year. It feels like a lifetime ago that he was born, because my world is so different with him in it.

Song choices:

1st song: 'Innocence' by Avril Lavigne. This song hit me hard when I was pregnant with Rhys. I would crank it in the car and just bawl.

2nd song: 'I Gotta Feeling' by The Black Eyed Peas. I picked this song for a few reasons. First, it has a great intro. Second, it had the 'vibe' I wanted. 3rd, it's a really good sample of the music that was popular the year Rhys was born. It's probably the most over played song in history!

3rd song: 'Canned Heat' by Jamiroquai. It's just a fun song.

4th song: 'Loving You Is Easy' by Sarah Mclachlan. I was so torn about what song to use for the end of the video. Had a few in mind. Then I heard this a few weeks ago on CBC Radio 2, and I had found my ending.

Video was shot on a Canon HD Mini-DV video camera. Maternity photos taken by my friends and professional photographers at Big Picture Photography. Video edited on a MacBook Pro with the iMovie program.

Cake Boss.

Just call me 'Buddy'...