I’ll think of a title later, because I want it to be a good one, but I’ll probably forget.

I often ask myself if I really want to keep writing blog posts, or just continue doing micro blog posts aka social media posts. Sometimes, the urge to write, to purge my thoughts is strong. Sometimes, the thought of organizing my thoughts to do so is too overwhelming. Since my last blog post, Melody has grown a bit and still has a very full head of hair. She will be 3 months old in a weekish. I’m now down 40 pounds since pre-pregnancy weight. I feel pretty fucking amazing. My husband is down 50 pounds. 90 pounds between the two of us so far. That’s really, really wild to me. I am 104 pounds less than my highest non-pregnant weight and 80 pounds less than when I graduated high school. I joined a real yoga studio. I bought a one month unlimited pass for new yogis. Tonight, I tried yin yoga for the first time. I discovered that I can’t do Rock pose. Oh yeah, I also fit in freaking size 18 jeans! I didn’t buy them, they were way too muffin toppy.


Tomorrow is our third wedding anniversary. Can you believe it? I can’t! Three years! Seven years together, two beautiful kids and one fat cat. Life is so wild. I’ve been seeing my psychologist for one year now. Just as I was wondering if it was worth all of the money, two weeks ago she told me that she thinks I have ADD. She loaned me this book to read and wow. It all makes so much sense now.

Maybe if once in a while I don’t force myself to organize my thoughts, maybe I will write blog posts more. Writing has always been pretty therapeutic.


Melody’s Birth Story

I was 36 weeks and 4 days pregnant. I had been followed very closely since the beginning because of my health issues. (Diabetes, PCOS, hypothyroid, past blood clot, etc.) I was now at the point where I was going for blood tests before every round of appointments, and they had the results while I was hooked up to my weekly fetal non-stress test (monitors baby’s heartbeat, movements and possible contractions). January 3, however, I was not prepared to be admitted at all. I didn’t think it was even a possibility. I was just going to a routine growth monitoring ultrasound at the high risk clinic at the other hospital. I wasn’t even going to my hospital! At my appointment, they said that baby looked fine, but that I looked like my eyes were swollen and they were going to take my blood pressure. It was really high. They told me to go sit in the waiting room, that they were going to call my hospital and my doctors and have a chat. That if it was up to them I would be admitted right away. They told me to sit there and in 10 minutes, they would re-take my blood pressure. Of course 10 minutes later it was even more through the roof. They told us to go to my hospital right away, we did, and Melody was born that night.


My ultrasound appointment was at 1:45pm. It was now 5pm and I was lying on the bed, in a hospital gown, being poked and tested… and in those moments in between nurses coming in the room to take my blood pressure, swab my butthole, shave my hoohah, or start another fetal non-stress test, I kept panicking about the things that hadn’t been done before I had this baby. “OH NO! The dishes from lunch are all over the counters and sink. And they are covered in CHEESE!” “OH NO! I didn’t finish laundry!!” Julien kept laughing and reassuring me that none of that mattered. At around 6pm, we were told that the baby would 100%, definitely be born tonight or tomorrow. I was freaking out so much, and Julien was trying to convince me that this was better than having to wait for days at the hospital like the last time.. the anticipation and not knowing was so hard. At least the waiting part and worrying part would be over soon. He was right. Melody was born at 8:52pm that night, January 3, 2018.


Because of my health issues, I was not given other options than a repeat c-section. I was hoping for it to not be an emergency csection this time, but I guess my babies take after me maybe, and don’t like waiting. The actual birth was much harder and more painful this time. It’s like she was stuck inside of me. I had 2 doctors pulling on her, and one nurse pushing on her from the top, and they still had to use forceps. While they were pulling and pushing inside of me like that, and I was trying to breathe and stay calm, Julien looked at me and told me how tough I am. Like the last time, I had to go to the ICU for 24 hours after my csection, because they gave me magnesium sulfate again. (Risk of seizures is a side effect.) But unlike the last time, Melody didn’t have to go to the NICU. I was allowed to hold her in the recovery room for 2 hours before going to the ICU, and that time was magical.


The recovery, however, so far is going soooo much better than last time. I am 10 days post-partum today, I no longer have a vac dressing, my wound is healing well so far *knock on wood!*, and I am 20lbs down from my pre-pregnancy weight. (I was eating a strict ketogenic diet while pregnant, on the advice of my diabetes specialist (and still am), and wasn’t losing weight while pregnant, but I must have been swelled up. (Julien lost 40lbs doing this diet with me during the pregnancy.)


Baby Melody is doing great. She loves to sleep all day and part all night! Julien and I have figured out sleeping shifts and are figuring this family of four thing out as we go. Brother Jerome is doing good, giggles with delight after giving sister Melody a kiss, but is pretty bummed out that maman can’t pick him up for 6 weeks. It really sucks at bedtime because in our normal bedtime routine, I’m the one who picks him up and holds him while we do kisses and goodnights. I’m sure that 6 weeks will be here before we know it though, and hopefully we’ll be pros by then hehe. PS – I have to continue taking my blood thinner shots twice a day for 6 weeks, and they wrote the end date : February 14. Seeing my husband being such an amazing father is making me very much look forward to the other thing I’ll be allowed to do on valentine’s day!! 😀

The Mommy Hat vs the Employee Hat

It’s hard.

This morning, I walked gently and quietly into my son’s room, hoping and wishing that he was feeling a lot better than he did yesterday. I held my breath, partly because it reeked of sour vomit in there. Yesterday was so hard. Newborn days kind of hard. There was so much crying, and so much vomit.

He was awake, looking up at me with his red swollen eyes. I said “Allo mon amour!” and he replied with vomit. I can tell that he’s better than yesterday, but he can’t go to daycare for sure. He is still running a fever. I ask him if he wants to come out of bed and he answers with a little squeaky “No”.

I go in the kitchen to pace and think. Pace and think. My mother in law told us last night that she could not miss today’s work day, so that’s out. He can’t go to daycare. We have no other family close enough. Julien could take the day off, but then he would still have to drive me to work and come get me, on top of other errands that have to be run today, so that could mean a puke filled car. I could take a second day off in a row to stay home with my sick son, but I’ll be judged by my coworkers.

When Julien walked into the kitchen, I was just standing there crying, not knowing what to do. We decided to get Jerome from his crib and bring him to the living room, to further assess his health and mood. He stayed glued to us and hung on for dear life, like yesterday. When I tried to get up off the couch to pace some more, he started crying. Looking at him with his little red crying face, reaching out for his mama made the decision easy for me.

I have wanted to be a mom for too long to not be a mom when my son needs me. I emailed work to let them know I’d be taking another day at home with my sick child. My beautiful, burning child has stayed glued to me since.

And my insides have been twisted with guilt and anxiety and fear of jugement since.


Mother’s Day

Today is Mothers Day. I slept in, I received red roses from the love of my life, a handmade card that my son made at daycare, I watched Netflix all day and I’m currently sitting here watching “Being Erica”, looking ridiculous with my oily coconut-smelling hair mask, wrapped up in Saran Wrap. Earlier I also had a mud mask. My son is in bed and my husband is cooking us steaks and potatoes on the BBQ. Mmm.

I still can’t believe that I finally get to be a mom, to have a piece of my heart beating on the outside, all while being head over heels with his daddy. There is not a day that goes by without my having a burst of gratitude for my life.

I am so thankful that I get to be your mom, Jerome. Happy Mother’s Day to all the women in my life!


A little while ago, I realized that my husband and I needed a mini getaway. Away from cleaning, laundry, work stuff, cat hair, etc. Not long after that discussion, we realized that Mastodon was playing tonight in Portland, ME, and here we are.

Typing this while listening to my child cry his head off in his crib, refusing to nap. He was super sick yesterday and daycare called to go pick him up at 10am. He’s feeling better today, we totally could have gone… but I would have felt way too guilty leaving if he hadn’t been better today. We would have had to leave before fully knowing if he was indeed better, to make it work last minute.

Ah well, if everything happens for a reason then I was meant to be here, with my sick child.


Adding a blog post

Adding a blog post used to be so simple, before I started censuring myself for various reasons. Blogging was also a lot easier when I wasn’t embarrassed by my most frequent stream of consciousness blog posts. So I end up never taking the time to sit down and enjoy writing a blog post. For someone who is a huge critic of the glorification of business, I sure am way too fucking busy! But it’s all worth it. I just know it is.

So here I am, WordPress open, okay with a stream of consciousness. Because I need to write again. I miss writing terribly, but I spend my days having to be meticulous at work and at university and when doing light translation on the side now (my new thing), that I hardly want to think about what is flowing out from my mind to my keyboard during my way too small windows of me time.

I’ve got about 60% of my Bcomm completed. It feels like I’ve been doing this forever. I can’t wait to have this sucker under my belt. I’ve applied for 6 jobs last weekend, all in the same department where I am now. I have my final stats exam on Sunday, and if I can pass that damn exam, I’ll never have to do a math course ever again. In the foreseeable future. Hopefully never again.

I got a magical lunch box on amazon the other day. Only my favourite colour combo was on sale – black and pink. I had never seen such a lunch box in my life, its distinct features being an upright zipper and 6 little measured containers for healthy, non-tipped over lunches. There’s also a shake bottle holder. It’s easy to carry. I love it. The day after I ordered it on Amazon, I was in the washroom in my faculty, and saw a girl with the exact same lunch box in the very same colour combo. Weird. I call it my magical lunch box because ever since I’ve had it, I’ve prepared healthy lunches and have eaten them every single work day exept Tuesday, when I had to sit through a catered lunch meeting. Oh did I eat bread at that meeting, you think? My heart beats a little faster when I see a beautifully arranged tray of assorted sandwiches, on assorted handmade breads. I ate six mini sandwiches, and I gained 4 pounds. Stupid scale. I  didn’t let it discourage me. My magical lunch box worked its magic again today. I had a post-university course car lunch date with my husband. We both ate our bagged lunch, and we listened to the latest Good job brain! podcast.

I got a garmin watch last week, and damn if I wasn’t walking up and down my driveway tonight, trying to get all of my steps in to reach my daily goal. Sitting in class on Wednesday mornings for 3 hours is HARD! I really should walk more on a daily basis though. To reach my daily goals, I have had to pace in my family room every night to reach my goal.

Well, we said that we were going up for bed at 11:15 and it’s 11:12. So…. bye! 🙂

3 Months Later…

This morning my phone alarm rang at 7:30am, after 5 hours of restless, nervous sleep. My alarm sounds like beach music. It took me a long time to find an alarm that doesn’t scare the shit out of me in the mornings, yet wakes me up on time. Not too adrenally, not too soft that I sleep through it for the first 10 minutes. I got up and tiptoed out of the room as not to wake husband and my toddler. I got as ready as I was going to get ready for a 9am management accounting midterm exam on a Sunday morning. I threw on yoga pants, a long black t-shirt, and a black and gray hoodie. I packed water, an apple, my pencils and calculator, made my shake and was out the door only 10 minutes past the time I was planning to leave.

It was weird finding a parking so close to the entrance of the business administration faculty building. It was even weirder climbing up the stairs to find the second floor with the bare minimum amount of lights turned on, abandoned looking, and eerily quiet. I found room 207 and turned on the lights. I was the first one there. I got to choose the best seat. I choose a seat in the very last row of the middle section. I opened my big leather purse and took out everything I needed on my desk to take the midterm: three pencils, a pencil eraser, a pencil sharpener, a bottle of water, a travel pack of kleene, my burts bees original lip balm, and my student ID. They always do a double take because the picture on my ID was taken 3-4 years ago; I have black hair on it.

Another student walks in, and chooses a seat. Another, then another, and then another. We are all sitting in silence, trying to absorb last minute theory and formulas into our brains. Two girls walk in, laughing and talking loudly. They choose seats next to each other, and continue talking and laughing loudly. Serenity now! That’s what I tell myself.

That perfect spot to sit that I chose? The one next to a window? It’s blinding me in the sun now, intermittently. There’s a fluorescent light right above my head that’s making my pencil writing glare. I have to tilt my head to see what I’m writing. When I have anything to write. The midterm is 15 pages long, and every time I turn a page my heart sinks a little deeper. I’ve got chapters 1 to 4. Finally. It’s sunk into my brain. I was just not getting chapters 5 and 6 at all last night, when I had to call it quits at 2am. The questions seemed to be mostly from chapters 5 and 6.

If I pass this midterm it’s going to be a miracle. I feel so disappointed in myself. 14 hours of studying yesterday, seemingly for nothing. I feel so stupid. Why can’t I understand management accounting more easily?

It’s 3 months later and I’m even more worn out than I was when I wrote that last post. I started a sore throat today  How can I start a new cold on top of this cold that I’ve had for 3-4 weeks? That’s it, I really have to try harder.

I’m 99.9% ready to send the email to drop out of choir. I have thought about it so long and hard, and it was going to be something I do for me, but I just have to sacrifice it to spend more time studying management accounting, if I even have a hope to pass after this midterm. I have ordered a poster of a window, to put in my dreadful tiny cubicle at work. A window that looks over New York City. I also ordered a poster of a beach scene. It’ll be a cubicle with an identity crisis, but at least I hope it won’t be as depressing. Last but not least, I’m thinking of switching one of my minors. My university just launched an entire online human ressources management minor, and that might be a great compromise for me. It would allow me more time with my son during his waking hours, yet continue chipping away at this BComm.

All other suggestions for a happy, balanced, more relaxed, less exhausted life are welcome!