My Crunchy Life

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The Crunchy Life Podcast Episode 1: Review Of The Humanity Family Bed

In this episode, I do a review of the humanity Family Bed, a device that allows adults and infants to sleep safely in one bed without the risk of smothering or injury.

2010-04-27 | Right-click to download, press enter to stream podcast.

Corbin's First Walk

Corbin went for his first walk outdoors with me today. I ordered the harness from MyPreciousKid.com last week, and it arrived in the mail yesterday. I wanted something that didn't look very utilitarian; I don't really care if people think I'm cruel because I know I'm just keeping my son safe, but this will be fun for him to put on and hopefully he won't always see it as restraining or confining.

After talking with a field rep from Guide Dogs for the Blind, I decided to do the first few walks with just my cane. After all, Corbin has only been walking on his own since february, and he isn't able to walk for a long period of time yet. I have to adjust my pace to his, and then I'll have to teach Deedee acordingly, but I feel it will be easier for Corbin and I to learn to walk together first and then add deedee into the mix.

Corbin and I went with my friend, and soon-to-be roommate, B and her 6-month-old chocolate lab Reese. Deedee was great, it was Reese who was eating pinecones, using my cane as a skipping rope, and just being generally puppyish. The advantage a pet has to living with a guide dog is that the guide will often teach them things. Endora encouraged my old roommates' dog to cross the kitchen floor even though he was scared of the slippery laminate. She also calmed him down during thunder storms. Of course, the pet dog can also teach the guide its bad manners, but we just won't go there.

Corbin thought my cane was fascinating, too. Once he realized the trick of the game was to tap it from side to side, he wanted to help. I held firmly onto his hand and kept the harness looped around my wrist (I want to use it only as a backup, not a primary method of controlling him when we're out), but that didn't really stop him from reaching out, grabbing my cane, and violently thumping it on the sidewalk. I had to stop every few minutes to wrestle it out of his grip. Things might have went smoother if B and I weren't killing ourselves laughing, but it was hard not to with Corbin's and Reese's antics.

When Corbin and I entered the convenience store, B stayed outside with the two dogs. Corbin decided that he was going to swipe some chocolate bars that were underneath the counter. I had to pick him up and hold him while I paid for my purchases, and then a customer who was behind me brought them outside because Corbin was fascinated with those chocolate bars. As soon as I went to pick up my bag, he went straight for them. At 15 months, it's not embarrassing, but it would be at 2 or 3.

Corbin almost made it the whole way home. He was so pooped, he went to bed as soon as we got in the house, and he changed into his pajamas. I'd say our first walk was a success, even if it was a three-ring circus. I really think B and I `should have our own reality TV show. Actually, it'd have to double as a sitcom, because even when we do really mundane things like walk to the variety store, it's an adventure.

In Memoriam

I received the news recently that a friend of mine had passed away last weekend. She was young, vivacious, energetic, kind, and successful, and that doesn't even scratch the surface. She was the unfortunate victim of a freak accident, and I think that makes it harder to cope with than if she had been ill and I'd had some warning. Although I attended her memorial service, we weren't close enough for me to be able to share my memories of her with the other attendees. I've had a few days to think about this, so here's my tribute to holly.

I've been blind since shortly after birth, but at the age of four, my parents decided they weren't going to send me to a special school for blind children. I attended public school like my other peers, and so I didn't have a lot of contact with blind people my age. Okay, I didn't have any contact with blind people my age. Thus, I was a fairly lonely child; I think I'm naturally shy, or at least a little uncomfortable around people I don't know, but being bullied and teased did not help.

It wasn't until I was 11 that I attended the school for the blind in halifax for 3 weeks, and was exposed to peers who faced similar challenges. my last week was spent concentrating on orientation and mobility skills (i.e., how to use a cane correctly, how to navigate safely across streets and in various environments, how to utilize public transit, etc). Holly was one of my fellow students.

She was 3 years older than me, but unlike most 14-year-olds who wouldn't dream of talking to someone who wasn't even in junior high yet, holly treated me just like she treated everyone else. She was kind to me, and just a very likable person all around. She made me feel at ease, which was something not many people could do. And, because she had a few years on me, her mobility skills were more developed than mine; I hated using my cane, and took every opportunity or used any excuse not to, but I saw what I could become if I worked hard and paid attention--that is, an independent, self-sufficient traveller who didn't have to rely on sighted guides all the time.

That's probably my best memory of holly. We kept in touch over the years, but not very much. She was more of an acquaintance, and we had mutual friends with whom I was closer. We did lose contact for almost a decade and then reconnected on facebook, and we were going to get together, but we never did, and now we never will.

holly's death makes me realize how precious life is. It makes me want to crawl in a whole, or shut myself away so I'll be safe forever, but it also makes me want to do the exact opposite, and take risks and do things I've always wished I could do but never had the time or the resources or the energy to accomplish.

I didn't know her very well, but I am grateful for the few fond memories I have of her. I hope her family will some day find peace. For some that may be a long and painful journey, though perhaps the many happy memories, and her loving essence that still lives on in those memories will help a great deal. I know I will hold the few recollections I have of holly close. Sometimes, a gentle touch on someone's life can be just as profound as a long-lasting presence.

RIP Holly.

It's been almost two years since I was pregnant. I've forgotten all the negative side effects of pregnancy--the constant heartburn, the aches and pains, the insonmnia. I know they happened, they just seem inconsequential compared to the feeling of movement in my tummy, the anticipation, and the feelings of love I had for someone I hadn't even met yet.

I was browsing through old text messages last night, and only then did I realize how cranky, sore, tired, and hormonal I was. Then I saw a text that was sent about ten days after I had Corbin. To paraphrase, it said, "I miss being pregnant". I had a ten-day-old baby, I was exhausted, my boobs hurt, and I was riding the rollercoaster of post pardum hormonal changes, and I missed being pregnant?! Is it possible that I was clinically insane for a few days?

Well, if I was, then I still am. I have a few friends that are pregnant now, and I'm jealous. Last week, I held a 3-week old baby at my sister's wedding shower, and my uterus started to ache. I wanted to do it all over again.

I thought that after I gave birth to Corbin, the instinctual urge to have children would go away, but it got worse. Even through the sleep deprivation, the colick, and even now that I'm a broke single mom, it's still there.

Of course, I want to be in a better position when or if I have a second child. Maybe I'm meant to be a single mom, but if that's the case, I'll be a single mom of 1. I won't have children from various men and create one hell of an emotional mess. I don't think I could survive the politics and the childish games with more than one person. But I do hope that one day, I can hame a whole family--a mother and a father, and Corbin with a few younger siblings.

Setting Boundaries

Over the past few months, Corbin has become a lot more active. This effects every part of his life, including nursing. At first, when he'd try to do a hand stand on my stomach while still firmly latched, it was cute. After battling cracked nipples, being kneed, kicked, poked, and elbowed, it is not even remotely adorable. It's time to set some boundaries.

If Corbin got too out of hand while nursing, all I used to have to do was say a firm, "No," and correct his positioning. Unfortunately, that no longer works, and I have to put him down and listen to him cry for a minute or two while patiently trying to explain to him that Mommy's boobs are not made of elasic, or any other stretchable or moldable substance. Okay, I've only started doing this today, so I haven't had much luck so far.

I don't mind some of the gymnastics. if he wants to lay on his tummy and twist his head to the side and nurse, who am I to argue if it seems comfortable to him? Sometimes, he falls asleep in a kneeling position, with his bum in the air, and his head snuggled up to the milk factory ... me! I don't even mind him playing with my face--minus the hair pulling--because he's actually able to identify several facial features (nose, mouth, etc), and that's how he learned. But I draw the line at being a human trapese.

Corbin's temper is also on the rise, and compared to other kids his age, he isn't really all that bad. he gets frustrated more easily when he's tired or not feeling well, which is normal, but it also seems like he wants to snuggle less when he's tired, as though he can't find a comfortable position. This is when he starts to act up, and when I put him down, he becomes very unhappy.

Nevertheless, my dogged stubbornness will prevail (see Mom, I knew it would come in handy one of these years). Corbin's a pretty quick learner, I just hope my poor body can survive this initial lesson in manners.

More Milestones

Corbin got his hair cut for the first time last night.



He wasn't sure at first, but he didn't fuss or fidget. He sat still the entire time--about five or six minutes--and let the hair dresser do her thing. His new surroundings kept him interested and distracted as she snipped off his baby hair. Corbin was born with straight black hair, but at just a few months of age, the curls started coming in. Now, his whole head is curly, but he had some long, straight pieces on top.

We are staying at my parents for a few weeks. it's nice to have a break. Admittedly, it's the first time in a very long time I haven't wanted to leave and go back home. There is more drama with my superintendent, and as is typical of me, I'd rather avoid conflict than face it.

Corbin barely crawls now. In fact, he's learning to run. He will run away from me if he has something he knows, or even thinks, he's not supposed to have. It's cute now, but it'll probably get old fast. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to mind having socks and shoes on, which makes it a lot easier for me to tell where he's at. And, when I take something away from him he's not supposed to have, he throws a temper tantrum. Oh, he doesn't kick and scream and completely lose his mind, so I guess I'm pretty lucky, but he does have the most heart-wrenching cry. I'm proud of myself though, I don't give in to that cry. I'll hug him and talk to him and try t explain why i have to take something away, or why he can't play in the garbage can or the toilet, and he calms down after a few minutes and goes on his merry way. i used to nurse him when he first started throwing tiny tantrums, and it did seem to comfort him, but I figured it was a bad habit to get intol. I will nurse him if he falls and hurts himself, or if he's frightened by something.

Corbin has discovered the stairs at my parents' house, so I have to watch him very closely, or else he'll climb up them and end up on the landing with no way down. Sometimes, he scares the crap out of me, and sometimes I wish I could be that fearless again. Age and experience have taught me to be very cautious or downright frightened of some things.

Ever since he's started walking, Corbin has been eating a lot more. He actually eats breakfast, lunch, and supper with small snacks in between. He's not as picky as he once was (I don't think it was really fussiness, rather he just wasn't ready to eat solids and was geting all his nutrition from me). It usually takes two or three tries when presenting him with something new before he'd eat it, but the list of foods he likes is growing longer. Veggies are still an obstacle, but Corbin loves fruit--berries, mellons, pineapple, mandarins--he loves it all! Chicken is his favourite meat, though I haven't given him too much beef as I'm not a big beef eater myself--no pork either--and the one time I tried him with fish, he just ignored it. He loves bread, cereal, and cheese, and thankfully does not seem to have the issue with dairy that I thought he might have a few months ago. Of course, he hasn't drank cow's milk yet. Oh yes, I must not forget pasta. I should have named him Macaroni and called him Mac for short.

Corbin is still not a big eater, and he is usually very slow, but both of these traits are positive ones, I think. I won't have to worry about him choking, especially since he won't eat while playing yet, and I think sometimes we encourage our kids to eat too much when they're young. Corbin still nurses several times per day. He won't drink from a cup yet, but he has stopped nursing before nap time, and he doesn't nurse for very long except at night time. The world is just too interesting to be cuddled up next to Mom!

Corbin's top eye teeth are through. The bottom ones were close, too, but I think they receeded back into his gums because I can't feel them anymore.

And lastly, Corbin is starting to talk a lot more. most of what he says is baby talk, but he can say Mama, Deedee, gog or goggy (dog), good, and num num. Soon he'll be like the rest of my family and won't stop talking from the time he wakes up until he goes to sleep.

I Knew This Would Happen Eventually

One of the biggest downsides to having a guide dog is the negative attitudes I have to endure from ignorant people. I don't mean those who are innocently unneducated, I write about those who are anti-dog.

First off, they don't understand the bond people can have with dogs. Yes, we can bond with all types of animals, but I'm specifically talking about dogs for this post. They've probably never owned a dog, and they think they're dirty, noisy, slobbery, stinky, and dangerous. And, like most stereotypes, some dogs portray some, if not all, of these characteristics. Then again, some people do, too.

I find that most, if not all, the tenants in a no-pet building (and keep in mind that "no pets" doesn't seem to exclude cats), really have a hate for dogs, and will say and do petty things to make a dog owner miserable. They seem to resent the fact that Deedee is allowed because she is a service dog. In the summer, I caught people on my lawn scrutenizing it to see if I was picking up after her. As soon as I opened the door and they realized I'd noticed them, they fled. They didn't even have the balls to say anything to me.

For months, everything seemed peaceful, and then Endora came for a visit. It was just a quick visit, though I know I was breaking the "no dog" rule. I don't break rules often, and this was the only time she'd come for a visit, but most unfortunately, my superintendent's husband noticed her and complained. Boy, did i hear it! Let's just say the superintendent of this building probably can't even spell professional let alone personify it. Even my sister was shocked by her attitude, and she teaches teenagers for a living.

Then, just the other day, Deedee had an accident in the building. She's always had trouble relieving in harness. I had a few issues with her when I first got her, but every one has long been resolved except this one. Unfortunately, the school has let me down on this one--they tell me not feed her less in the morning and more at night, or vice versa, but no matter if she's fed once or twice a day, she still relieves in harness. Her work is flawless, and i couldn't ask for a dog with better house manners. Fortunately, she doesn't go in buildings very often, and she probably wouldn't have had the accident if I had paid attention and let her go before we went inside.

Needless to say, my landlady was less than nice about the ordeal. To people who don't like dogs, cleaning up there feecies must be about the worst thing to clean up, unless it's their vomit. But there was no need for her to say my dog wasn't well trained. There was no need for her to keep repeating "she shouldn't do that", and "this won't happen again". I almost said, "or what? You'll kick me out because my dog pooped on your floor and one of your posse walked in it?" Yup, piss off the posse and you will unleash the uncouth wrath of the allmighty superintendent. I bet if it wasn't her friend who stepped in it, she wouldn't have taken it personally.

She showed up with said friend at my apartment, and when i spoke with the property manager, he informed me that the corporation that owns the building encourages their supers to seek the aide of friends and family members when confronting tenants. Did she think i was going to sick the dog on her? Deedee wouldn't hurt a fly, but even if she would attack someone on command, i doubt the presence of a second person would help much.

So basically, since she's a long-time employee with good standing, and I'm a new tenant who was a bad girl and broke the rules, I just have to suck it up. Not that I expected her to get fired--it's not that big a deal, but if these incidents continue, it will be. For the first three or four months I lived here, my super and her posse would deliberately stop their conversation and stare at me if I invaded their smoking territory while taking my garbage out. Tell me that isn't ignorant! But the property manager didn't even care about or acknowledge my concerns when I told him I felt uncomfortable. I guess my super is a saint with horns.

But what can I expect? i'm not living insubsidized housing, but it's low rental as far as market prices go, so the super isn't really required to impress anyone. It just gives me extra motivation to start looking for work as soon as Corbin's day care situation gets straightened out (he's on the waiting list but can't get in until he's at least 18 months). Then i'm outa here, and i'll comb the city looking for a building that is dog-friendly and that allows me to have my own washer and dryer.

Corbin is walking! i'm very excited, a little sad, but mostly scared out of my mind. The days of hanging onto sanity with a tenuous yet hopeful death grip are over. At least he's easing into it; it started last Sunday when he took a few steps by himself, and that's what he's been doing all week. A few steps here, a few steps there, and then he falls on his knees, or his bum, or if he's exceptionally careless, he falls on his back and hits the floor with a resounding thump usually followed by several minutes of frightened crying. I'm glad he didn't start to walk like he started to crawl--that is, just get up and take off and never look back. He's very cautious, and I hope that trait stays with him as it will serve him well throughout his childhood.

I really thought he'd be walking well before this. He started crawling at 7.5 months, and by 8 months, he was learning to stand. At 9 months, he was furniture cruising. Of course, maybe if I had more furniture in my living room, it might have made the transition easier. Then again, maybe not. I don't really care, i'm just speculating.

The truth is, I want him to achieve all these firsts early (well, except losing his virginity), so that I can gloat and say what a smart baby he is, and so I can outdo other moms who have babies the same age. (Yes, being a mom has brought out the secret competetive bitch I never knew I could be). But, every time Corbin achieves a milestone, I feel this fleeting moment of sadness. He's gained another morsel of independence. He's growing up so fast, and I just wish he could stay small and helpless and nonverbal for a few more years. I don't even care if I have to change endless poopy diapers or vacuum out snot from his nose or walk around smelling like half-digested breastmilk because he spit up on me. I know there will come a time when I won't be able to protect him, when I can't make things better, and he'll have to deal with pain and heartache, balance desires and needs, and make life-altering decisions. I hope I can do the job of two parents and teach him everything he needs to know.

Who Are You And What Did You Do With My Son?

Up until a few weeks ago, Corbin was the picture-perfect little boy. Well, he still is, but it seems as though he's realized there's so much more he can do in the apartment besides play with his toys and get into a spot of bother with Deedee.

A few months ago, I delegated the cupboard beneath my microwave stand to him. I put all his toys in there, and he seemed happy with this arrangement. He would happily empty the cupboard and then sit amidst the toys playing with one after another, or sometimes he'd actually get in the cupboard after emptying it. Of course, all of the kitchen cabinets were locked, but he didn't show much interest in them. Sadly, that has come to an end.

Not only does he try to get in the kitchen cupboards (most of them just hold pots and pans and plastic storage containers, so they're pretty harmless), but he's decided that the space under my desk is a fun place to play, too. I previously stored his exersaucer under there to protect the power bar, but now he can move the exersaucer, so up goes the power bar. He can move chairs as well, and I've come into the living room to find furniture scattered throughout the room. He can crawl in the small space beneath my desk that is specially designed for a PC tower, and he thinks it's great fun to grab the cordless phone and hide in there with it.

I can't let him near the bathroom unless he is having a bath. The toilet brush, plunger, toilet paper, and heck, the toilet itself have all become fascinating play things. I know this stage won't end any time soon, so the bathroom door is firmly shut, and I have false door knobs waiting on standby for the time when he learns to open doors.

lastly, I keep a pretty tight ship around here--I vacuum every day, and i'm usually careful to put everything out of his reach whether I think it'll harm him or not, although he does manage to kidnap the remote and the telephone from time to time. But Corbin seems to have a knack for finding bits of cardboard, paper, and other small things that somehow end up on the floor. Oh how I long for the days when all I had to worry about was whether or not he and Deedee were sharing toys.

Speaking of toys, they're everywhere! Dump trucks, walkers, ride-on cars, and then there are all the little ones that can send an unwary mom flying across the room. For once, i'm glad I have a bad habit of not picking up my feet when I walk. I don't even bother to run behind him and pick up any more, because 5 minutes later, my living room is morphed into Corbin's Playland again.

And what word that rhymes with toys that every mom of a budding toddler experiences? Why noise, of course! Corbin loves to make lots and lots of noise. Babbling incessantly is his favourite thing to do, of course, but when babbling, squealing, laughing, or screaming doesn't reach the decibel level he desires, he practices his percussion skills with Deedee's stainless steel dog dishes, or bangs on the floor using one of his wooden trucks. At only 1 year of age, Corbin can already multitask--he can bang and squeal at the same time. This produces a head-pounding effect to which he is immune but I am not. Neither is Deedee; sometimes I find her curled up in a remote corner. Perhaps she wants to stay out of the way of the little demon, I mean the lovable little guy. Perhaps she is wondering what the heck she's gotten herself into.

As for me, would I have it any other way? Certainly not! I've always said I like a challenge in life. Well, I've got one, and he never ceases to amaze me every day. Corbin is very creative, imaginative, and spirited, not to mention loving, happy, and very easygoing. I know the next year or so will be filled with many adventures for us, even more so than the first year, or perhaps just different types. I've got my seat belt fastened, and I'm holding on for dear life. This promises to be a ride that Corbin won't remember in a few years, but I'll never forget it.