Baby's First

I was really serious about breastfeeding. Breast is best right?!...breastfeeding was my plan.

Then one day, when Thing 1 was about 4 weeks old, and I went for a nap ('cause I am human tho I try to be SuperMom sometimes)...my prince gave her *gasp* formula. (the powdered formula was part of the hospital goodie bag - damn "the man").

It killed the new mother in me. How could he give her a man-made product?! Why didn't he wake me?! His response (insert French accent here)

"She's going to eat without you. She might say her first words without you. She will walk without you. She will go to school without you. And one day she will have sex without you."

Mom's are sentimental. Papa's are cold reality. I guess there is some balance there. The day my baby had her first bottle of formula started the wave of firsts...

Yesterday, I witnessed another first. Stunning. On leaving piano lessons (her teacher - a lovely senior citizen)...Thing 2 turned to her Thing 1...and for the first time ever - flipped the bird (i.e. gave the finger/flipped Thing 1 off/the one finger salut/an obscene gesture).

{aside: It's the school. School-aged kids learn interesting stuff on the playground; like truck driver gestures, the good bad words and where babies come from.}

I've lost my innocence of firsts. Firsts aren't so good.

ok - time to share...have your kids flipped the bird, said any good bad words, done a bad first?

Chapter of my life continued...

The prostitute had a "bun in the oven". She was bout 4 months pregnant. Pregnant enough to just have a little bump and still work the profession. My prince had picked up a pregnant prostitute with his parents on our Cuban vacation.* (if you are late to this story go back to Chapter in my Life 'cause true stories are best read from start to finish)

Now they had a quandary - it would have been very impolite to kick her out of the car after she was already in. A down-right rude tease. They have great pride those Spanish people. What were they to do? They took her to the beach with them of course! And since locals weren't allowed on the beach - they were obliged to remain by her side for the entire afternoon otherwise she would have been detained by the policia.

(so we have my prince, my in-laws and a hooker on the beach...isn't this better than doing the laundry thus far?...)

The young prostitute enjoyed the afternoon at the beach and chit-chatting with her new BFF (my mother-in-law). Now, if you have ever been in the company of Spanish speakers - no matter the country - they are a talkative bunch. ("Full of life" my prince says -- "gabby" say I).

The prostitute shared that she had another child at home. Had worked in a factory but didn't make enough to live. She had turned to prostitution.

After my prince and his parents finished their dip (in the water...I mean in the water) - they gave the prostitute some money and toiletries (they had taken our soaps and shampoos from the hotel and were planning on giving them to a local) and wished the prostitute good health.

Then, they returned to the hotel and confessed all to me in the cigar bar.

The lesson(s) of this (true) story is;
A) My prince thinks it's impolite to dump a prostitute
B) My mother-in-law is quite often right
C) Some moms have crappy life choices. Or just plain ol' crappy days...if you have the chance to help a Mom out - you should do it -be it a neighbour, a friend or even a stranger.**

*how many men can say they picked up a hooker with their parents?!
**There are people - in the world - who know how to make a hooker happy - I happen to be lawfully related to some of them.

Chapter of my life

Did I ever tell you the story of when my prince picked up a prostitute in Cuba? If my life was a book; this chapter would be called "The day my prince picked up a prostitute in Cuba" (makes you want to read beyond the title huh?)

Cuba - 2004. P.K. (pre-kids) My prince and I are on vacation in Havana - the capital and cultural hotspot of Cuba. We wanted to see the real "city" not the resort. My prince's 2nd language is Spanish (he speaks 5 fluently - very handy for international travel and reading Ikea instructions).

Oh, and my in-laws are with us (this is important for later). So 3 of us 4; fluently speak Spanish (also important for later). We visit Paladares (small illegal restaurants in private homes - you eat for half the price - support local economy. In one, we walked through two apartments...past one kitchen...then, to be seated in someone's living room...which housed one plastic table...four plastic chairs..and ate the best meal of our trip). We were non-traditional travellers.

Getting on to the prostitute (figuratively not physically). On the last full day, my prince rents a car for himself and his parents to visit a beach just outside of Havana. Me and my crappy digestive system (excuse the pun) stay back at the hotel.

If you have ever been to Cuba - you will know that hitchhiking is commonplace because of the cost (and sourcing) of gas. Everyone hitchhikes. So my husband says to his parents "We should pick someone up - we speak the language - we've got an available seat in the car - we should help someone out". His parents agree.

So at the next corner my prince slows down and a young women trots towards the car (irony - she was trotting to the car and I had the trots back at the hotel - insert "it's a small world after all" song HERE).

My worldly mother-in-law says "no...that's a prostitute". Both men disagree. Overruled. The young lady gladly hopped in the car and off they went to the beach.

Only the young lady was, in fact, a prostitute. Now, what does this have to do with parenting/family/life in general? The young lady was....

left you hangin?!...All revealed tomorrow! Same bat time - same bat channel...

Mom & Child Conversations

Thing 2: Mom?...
Me: Yes?
Thing 2: Are we vegetarians?
Me: No. We eat chicken and ribs so we are not vegetarians.
Thing 2: I'm a chocoholic.
Me: Yes, you are. That's why we keep the chocolate up high.
Thing 1: I'm a carrotarian.
Me: Yes, you are. Carrots are you favourite.
Thing 2: Mom, you are a sleepatarian.
Me: I try...honey...I do try.