A Common Disaster

I'm on my own with Kaitlyn for a bit and it's the first time I've had her all alone in our condo since she became mobile. This morning I learned just how un-baby-proof our house is when there's not an extra set of eyes watching her.

In the time it took me to make a latte and pour a bowl of cereal Kaitlyn managed to splash in the cat water fountain and make a huge puddle, get her wet hands far too close to an unprotected outlet, chew on the open end of a plugged-in phone charger, stuff two unknown objects from the floor into her mouth, pull down my pyjama pants, pull out a few yards of toilet paper and pull two workbooks off the coffee table. Luckily, I found the cat vomit on the carpet before she did. What a first morning!

So here's what I learned about how to make mornings work better when I'm doing it solo:

1. Get up before the baby. This is the only hope I have of washing my face (maybe even getting a shower!) or getting a coffee made in peace. Hopefully me being up doesn't also encourage her to wake up early.

2. Sweep every night before bed.

3. Get more plug covers, I'll need them at the new house anyways. Already done.

4. Move the cat water fountain. Already done.

5. Do as much meal planning and preparation as possible the night before.

So tonight I'll be setting an alarm for the first time in over a year and the house will be spotless (haha) before I go to bed. That's okay, we need to start getting ready for a back-to-work schedule anyways. Any other advice to make solo parenting easier?

The little trouble maker during our summer family photos.

Update: My first day planning to get up before Kaitlyn was an utter disaster. She fought sleep until 10 pm, then I couldn't get to sleep until 1 am. She woke up at 5:30 am. I nursed her praying that she would go back to sleep. She did and I returned to bed and shut off my alarm clock thinking "Hey, it's Sunday. So we'll both have a little sleep-in." She got up at 6:30 am, the time my alarm had been set for. On the bright side, my extra baby-proofing meant that I got my coffee and her cereal made without incident. 

Apple Pickin' Fun!

We've just returned from a visit with my parents, who live just outside of the Okanagan or, as I call it, the Land O' Plenty. In their back yard are two apple trees, a sour cherry tree, a peach tree, a pear tree and a decorative cherry tree. While we were there, apples were falling off the branches at a rate of about one per minute, which made me more than a little anxious because Kaitlyn spent most of her time playing in the shade of the apple trees. More than once an apple narrowly missed her as she swung under the branches! On the bright side, she got a lot of practice sinking her two little teeth into a number of Kaitlyn-sized apples!

Finally, my dad and I made an attempt to avert disaster by picking the apples that looked best and biggest. We ended up with two huge barrels and it didn't even look like we had made a dent! So what to do with all those apples? Make applesauce for the baby of course! We peeled and sliced 15 pounds of apples, boiled them up with a little lemon and cinnamon (no sugar for this little one!) and fed the whole mess through a food processor.

Fifteen pounds of apples ready to go!

Boiling up the apples with the canning tub standing ready.

The finished product, my first batch of applesauce!

We ended up with 16 small and 3 large jars of applesauce. I'm still amazed that my parents simply know how to do all of this canning. What would have been a weekend job for me was just a few hours at their house. And more than that, they are always sharing their home-canned goods with us. No visit ends without a suitcase overloaded with applesauce, pesto, peaches, green beans, beets and moose meat. It doesn't get much better than that!

Now Kaitlyn has homemade applesauce from apples picked by her mom and grandpa and I learned a little bit more about canning, although I don't think I'll be trying it at home any time soon. I'll also be using the applesauce in this recipe for her birthday cake. It's simple, tasty and has no refined sugar, my kind of baby-friendly recipe!

Now that we're home we are getting ready to move into our house, throw a birthday party, bring in our own garden and finally, start work again. Updates to follow.

So I Think I Can Dance

Well, no. I don't actually think I can dance, but I'd like to learn, as part of my ongoing childhood dream. And that's why tonight, I took my first adult Jazz dance class. I'm always busting a move to keep Kaitlyn entertained so the other day I thought, why not? Then, while I was at my class, I found out that the musical Chicago will be playing at our little local theatre next Spring, auditions in December. Well if that isn't serendipity I don't know what is.

Let me take a step back and talk about that dream. Ever since I was a little girl, I have dreamed about singing on stage. Literally dreamed about being up there, a huge audience and everyone listening to me, and it always feels so good. I wake up excited and energized; I feel like this is what I was always meant to do. No stage fright in those dreams. Real life is a different story; I won't even sing karaoke. But last year while I was running for Rendezvous Queen I got up on a stage and sang a song that I had written. A capella. It was possibly the most terrifying thing I've ever done but I've also never been so proud of myself.

So now there's a musical that I'd love to be in, and I've already decided to work on my dance moves. All I have to do is convince myself to audition in December. I've taken one step towards that secret stage dream that I've held close all my life, all I have to do is tell myself that I can do it.

Robert Fulghum has a story about how, when we are children, we can do everything. When we are asked if we can dance, sing, act, draw, or climb mountains we always answer "Yes! Of course I can! Let me show you!" As adults we move to saying "Well, not really. Not professionally. Just in the shower." If nothing else, when Kaitlyn eventually asks me if I can dance, I'll be able to answer "Yes, of course! Let me show you!" and then bust out my moves like Jagger.

Letting go of an identity

Two years ago I put on my Canadian Forces (CF) uniform for my last day of work and got ready to start a job with the Government of Yukon. I was making the switch because I had the opportunity to become part of a different component of the reserves and it meant I couldn't hold my current job. It was a great opportunity and I was so excited, it was the culmination of years of experience and both CF and civilian schooling. I knew there was a strong chance that I would have to do some extra training, which I was more than willing to do, but first I had to wait for an assessment. So I waited.

Time went by and in the meantime life moved on. I had a baby and started making plans for more, at least one if not two. Two years later the decision has come back that I will need to do 14 consecutive weeks of training away, to be completed within the next two years. It would mean three months away from my young daughter as well as putting plans for more babies on hold. So far, I have spent no more than four hours away from Kaitlyn and I can't imagine the idea of spending a night away let alone three months!

I know that all over the world women have to spend time away from their families in order to serve. I know this and as I've been making my decision it's something that I keep repeating to myself. I'm not the only one that has ever had to leave their family. Others have to give so much more in service to their country. But my heart argues that service in the reserves shouldn't be such a hardship. The idea of volunteering shouldn't be so heartbreaking.

I have spent more than half my life in a uniform of some kind, affiliated with the CF first as a cadet and then as a cadet instructor and as a public affairs officer. I have put so much time and energy into this part of my life. Being in uniform is more than half of my identity, it is what has shaped me as a person for more than 18 years. It has opened so many doors, influenced every decision I've ever made and is, to be honest, the only place I have felt like I properly belonged. It is where I have formed almost all of my friendships and relationships. So it's with a heavy heart and a heavy mind that I've decided to pass on the opportunity to make that transfer and instead become inactive, similar to releasing.

I won't be putting on a uniform again for a long time, if ever, because I can't bring myself to let go of my role as mother for long enough to do it. My priority in life right now is to be the best mother I can be and that means not going away. It's the first time I've had to let go of something that I wanted because of motherhood and despite the fact that my daughter is the most important thing in my life, it's the hardest decision I've ever made.

Accepting the award for Top Candidate on the Reserve Basic Public Affairs Officer Course in 2009

Bring on the big thighs!

I just read an article in Psychology Today (I will post it as soon as they have a link on their site) and I am so excited. I have never read and article that made me feel so good about myself. Unfortunately it's in the guise of what men find attractive but here's the gist of it...

The fat in your hips and thighs that you can't rid of is there to make your baby's brain grow.

Seriously. I have never loved my thighs so much, though I've hated them most of my life. If I had ever been asked what my least favourite body part is I would have definitely said my thighs. They're not huge by any standard but I once, very briefly, considered what it would cost to liposuction them and get those skinny thighs that would look good in short shorts. If only I had known what I just learned. This article should be required reading for all teenage girls. 

So here it is: The fat that is stored in your thighs is fat that you can't get rid of, except during the last few months of pregnancy and through breastfeeding. That's because we store DHA (an omega-3 fat) in our thighs, a very important fat for growing baby brains. It's a fat that we can't make, and we can't get enough in our daily diet to give what our little bundles need, so we store it up over the years as we get ready for the day we become moms. So embrace those thighs, stock up on omega-3 fats and get those babies growing!

Other interesting excerpts: The total amount of fat that a normal, healthy, trim young woman carries is seven times that of other animals. Only bears ready to hibernate, penguins facing a sunless winter without food, or whales swimming in arctic waters have fat percentages that approach ours.

One reason American women may have bigger thighs and bottoms than 40 years ago is that the food we eat is no longer as rich in omega-3 and DHA, requiring more fat to store as much as we need for future babies. The loss comes from beef and other animals that we eat, or eat by-products of, being force-fed corn and grains rather than their natural diet of grass. Because there's aren't as many omega-3 fats, we're less satisfied and eat more food.

And for those who are interested, the model that men are most attracted to has bigger thighs and hips with a small waist as opposed to the skinny-model figure that so many women strive for. 

Happy Little Pills

I just read an article in Maclean's about diagnosing kids with ADHD when they might just be immature for their class and I just had to write about it. This issue really irks me because I firmly believe that the abundance of ADHD diagnoses out there is a result of the combination of poor parenting and overworked teachers. I am also firmly against medicating children this way.

While working with the Air Cadet Program, I used to run summer courses for 12-13 year olds. In one summer I had three groups of 33 children. Each group was from a different area of BC and when we went camping it was up to me to make sure they got any prescribed medications. In the group from Greater Vancouver, 11 of those 33 were medicated for ADHD. Another girl was on Effexor, an antidepressant that I took during a tumultuous time in my mid-twenties. Thirteen. Years. Old. She was half my size and was on the same dosage that I was. I know from experience that that particular drug is highly addictive and hard to get off of. If I missed my dose by even an hour I was subject to severe vertigo and nausea. I was with these kids for two weeks straight and I can tell you that every single one of them was perfectly pleasant and thrived in the pseudo-military environment of the cadet camp. Structured classes, calling people by their ranks and marching didn't seem to present a problem to any of them and I suspect it didn't have a lot to do with the medication.

I don't know a lot about ADHD and I am certain that there are cases where this is a true problem that requires some form of treatment but I think that if parents spent a little more time with their kids, teaching them things like self-discipline and paying attention to their needs, and if teachers weren't so overworked and exhausted that their first reaction to a kid not raising his hand is calling the parents or begging for them to be medicated, there would be fewer diagnosed cases of a disorder that most kids eventually grow out of. And while we're at it, how about some serious, unsupervised old-fashioned time playing outside? I don't think it's a coincidence that the most medicated group was the kids from the city.

A whole new world

Well, not really. But a new perspective for me.

We just came back from ten days away visiting family and Kaitlyn, upon being released from the car seat, immediately crawled at full speed to the bathroom, grabbed the big pink rubber duck that we didn't pack for space consideration, stood up on the bathtub and started banging on the rim. Clearly, she missed either her duck, her own tub or just the frequency of baths in general. Let's just say we didn't have a night time routine while we were away.

Now this was a cute gesture in itself and of course I gave her a bath but as she played with the toys that we hadn't taken along it hit me that she not only remembered everything about her own house, she missed inanimate objects. Clearly, her mind is a little more developed than I had been thinking. Suddenly, I feel a lot more open to the idea of sleep training and letting her spend a little more time fussing before I run to console her. She's becoming a little person with her own memories and ideas so it's time to let her have a few more adventures on her own around the house. This is my first experience with really feeling like she's growing up and it's great. I feel like I see her a little differently now, as an individual rather than a completely dependant baby that needs nothing but mom.

Our family enjoying the hammock at Grandma & Grandpa's house

On another note, while I was away I read an excellent book called Mean Moms Rule by Denise Schipani that pretty much took my vague ideas about parenting and put them on paper. I would highly recommend it to everyone and if you don't have time to read a book, check out her blog at www.meanmomsrule.com.

Happy Mother's Day

Dear Mom,

I never understood how much you love me until I held my own daughter in my arms.

I didn't realized how important being a mom was to you until I started to struggle with my own identity as a mother, holding myself to your standard.

I never really understood what you meant when you said your children were the most important thing in your life until Kaitlyn became the most important thing in mine.

I never appreciated the pride that you had in all of my accomplishments until my daughter started to reach her own small milestones.

I am just starting to realize how much of yourself you have given me, through sleepless nights, crying sessions that leave you feeling helpless and so, so many messes to clean up. I know this is just the beginning and there is so much more to come.

But now I am beginning to understand where all of your patience and unconditional love came from. It's all part of being a mom.

So, for the first time with a true understanding of just what I'm saying, Thank You. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for all that you have done and all that you have given me.

Happy Mother's Day.

Papa Pasta

Christmas 2010 I received a pasta maker under the tree. It was our first year together and although I love to cook for my family, a pasta maker wasn't what I considered a perfect "new relationship, first Christmas together" present. Lucky for him, there was also a sapphire necklace hidden under there and of course he designed it so that I would get my dander up about the kitchen gift while he waited to give me the bling. 

A year and a half later, we've tangled with the pasta maker only twice, both times with less than stellar results. Our pasta was dry, it didn't form into the pliable ball it was supposed to. Nevertheless, when I saw a ravioli making set at our local specialty shop, I had to have it. Today, while Kaitlyn was taking her afternoon nap, we decided to tangle with the pasta maker one more time with the ambitious plan of making ravioli. As it turns out, a lot of ravioli. 

Our cookbook says the general rule for pasta is 1 cup of flour and 1 egg per person. So I thought six cups of flour to make enough for us tonight and a ravioli dinner for friends one night. Six eggs didn't even begin to hold together the flour, so we added a seventh. Then, an eighth. By this time I was already sick of kneading the dough and it wasn't even sticking together yet. "I hate pasta!" I declared. I had also decided that perhaps I could live with the fall-apart ravioli we always got from the store.

Keith came along with his apron on and said, "Let Papa Pasta give it a try." Considering that his kitchen repertoire consists of spaghetti sauce, I was a little skeptical. Not long ago I also would have been mad about him trying to take over in what I consider my domain but tonight I poured a glass of wine and sat down to watch him work. Besides, the baby might wake up soon.

After five more minutes of kneading, the dough still wasn't doing anything at all so we looked to Youtube for help. Surely, someone out there must know how to do this! The first video we watched recommended an egg-flour ratio of almost 2:1! That solved our first problem. The next bit of advice was to drink more wine. That solved our second problem. 

Finally, after the ninth egg, we had dough that we could work with! Papa Pasta had succeeded where I surely would have given up. In fact, by this time I was playing with the baby in the nursery, apron discarded and forgotten. Through the rest of the night, we tag teamed with the baby care and pasta making. I made up a pumpkin ricotta filling, then he perfected the art of creating paper-thin sheets of perfect looking pasta. I served up our first batch in a brown butter sage sauce while he fed her dinner. There has never been so much teamwork in our house!

All together we made 52 ravioli and three servings of spaghetti while going through Kaitlyn's entire night time routine and cleaning up a dough covered kitchen. I have no idea where the name Papa Pasta came from but it's going to stick, and I might just give up control of the kitchen a little more often. Not only did I get a break but Keith was really proud of all that we accomplished. At the very least, fresh pasta will now be a staple on our menu.

Making mistakes, just like mom

This post was written for inclusion in the May blog carnival hosted by One Fit Mom. Today, participants share their funny, honest and even poignant confessions of how they are less-than-perfect parents (or parents-to-be). Please read to the end of the post to see the full list of links to other carnival submissions.

First things first, I love my mom and I think she was a great parent. When we were young she stayed home with us and took in other children to make ends meet. All of our meals were home cooked and our clothes were hand-made, a model mom and I strive to be like her in so many ways. But there was one way I always promised myself I would not parent like my mom, I would not ignore my child crying. When my brother was little, he sat in his high chair while my mom rummaged through the fridge to make yet another meal for her family. I have no idea where I was for this story. Suddenly he started crying, screaming his little head off, and she ignored him, wanting to finish her task. When she finally turned around she discovered that he had bounced his chair right over to the stove and stuck his fingers into the hot element. He still has the scars. To be fair, my brother screamed a lot and was a little hellion by all accounts but that story has always stuck with me as the one thing I would not allow myself to do as a parent. "Who could ever ignore their baby crying?" I asked myself. How judgemental we can be before we have children. 

Now, I've been lucky enough to have a daughter that doesn't cry very much. Usually she's very laid back and something has to seriously be wrong for her to get going. But recently she's been going through a clingy phase. It seems that I can't put her down for even a minute without a cry to get up again. So the other day as I was scrambling to get us ready for a walk, I put her down in the stroller and ran to grab a sweater. I'll admit that I took longer than necessary, checking it out in the mirror to see if it looked nice, even though I'd be putting on a jacket. As I decided whether I looked drab or fab, she started with her little cry. The same one I always hear when she wants to be picked up. "Just a minute!" I called, "Why can't mom have just one minute to look nice when I spend so much time making you look adorable?" I was frustrated with this new development. But still, the cry continued. Finally I stalked back into the living room to see my daughter hanging out of her stroller, little legs dangling and little hands hanging on to the sides for dear life! I ran over and picked her up, repeating "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Mommy will never leave you alone again!". Immediately the story of my brother popped into my head and I regretted ignoring her cry for even one moment. Although she would have dropped only six inches, that's a long ways for a seven month old baby! 

I can't guarantee that I won't ever ignore my child's cries again, but at least I have a better understanding of where my mom was when my brother stuck his fingers in the stove. And now she always gets strapped in to the stroller immediately. I know that there will be other less than perfect parenting moments but for these times I have a mantra that I have often repeated to my daughter in times of stress, "I'm doing the best I can!"

Other submissions:

Cassie at Mama PhD 'N Training discusses her cloth diapering dilemmas, and how they might be interfering with the progress of her dissertation.

Carmen at I Love Being Mom shares the guilt and relief that came with the end of her breastfeeding relationship.

Quinn at Sun Flower and Sunshine (whose baby is due any day now!) confesses her third trimester diet debauchery.

Vicky at TGAW shares some of the hilarious mishaps of computer programmers turned parents.

Carli at One Fit Mom reveals an amusing list of her best, er, worst parenting transgressions.

Doing it mom's way

One of the nice things about traveling alone with Kaitlyn is that we're doing things that we probably wouldn't if Keith was here with us. For example, yesterday one of the local shopping centers was having a craft day so we went down to string leis and make Kukui nut bracelets. While I was doing that, one of the volunteers, a nice grannie type, whisked Kaitlyn away and had her plucking away at a ukulele along with some men that were playing. This is definitely a unique experience and I don't think Keith would have been up for craft day. Even if he was, people seem more open to approaching us and offering to hold her or help out when I'm on my own, which makes for her meeting a lot of new people, which she loves.

Later on we went on a tour of an old store at the historical society and then visited the City of Refuge and the Painted Church. I'll be posting a full review of baby friendly activities closer to the end of the trip but it's safe to say that so far she is definitely getting experiences that simply aren't possible in Whitehorse, and so am I. Apart from one rough day things are going great and I'm steeling myself for a long car ride to Hilo next week.

Travel Essentials

Here is the list of travel essentials, other than the standard stroller and car seat, from my experience with a six month old in Hawaii:

1. Jolly Jumper. This thing is worth its weight in gold and every ounce of the weight that it takes up in my suitcase. Kaitlyn spent time in her jumper every single day while I made dinner or just took a few minutes to relax and update Facebook and this blog. Everyone from the house that I stayed in would come down to watch her jump and the attention only made her jump higher. I think this also contributed to her sudden ability to sleep 12 hours straight each night.

2. My Little Seat. This travel contraption replaced the Bumbo in my suitcase at the last minute. Not only did it work great as a high chair and baby containment device, it packs up into an 8x6" bag. Super cute and so effective that the property manager I'm staying with is going to get one for each of his condos.Nfind out more about it here.

3. iPad. I loaded up my Lonely Planet guide on my Kindle app and had maps and advice at my fingertips wherever I went. More importantly, I was able to Skype with daddy and grandparents while we were away which helped me realize how important they are to Kaitlyn's life. As if I didn't know already! This also leads me to...

4. Local knowledge. The family I was staying with gave me shortcuts For travel and tips galore for enjoying the Big Island. Don't just rely on travel guides, look for websites developed by locals. They can be rough and old school but they put a lot of work into making sure that you get the good info. My host manages Kona 123. On that note, I recommend them for vacation home rentals as well.

5. Extra time. I know this isn't something you can pack but you should plan for it. I always planned for two days of activity followed by a day of down time and even then that was sometimes too much, especially on days like this.

6. Two travel change pads. I only brought one and it was a pain packing it up into the diaper bag again each day. A small thing but one that makes those "OMG I need to get you out of that now!" moments a little easier.

7. Muslin blanket. This blanket keeps her warm on the plane, shields her from the nastiness of airport lounge seats or floors when I want to put her down and is an extra sun shield in the stroller. I don't go anywhere without it. Mine is from Aden & Anais but you can get different kinds in almost any baby boutique.

That's it for now, I'm here for two more weeks so I'll add more if I think of it. Just remember what I always tell myself as I'm packing, "For everything else, there's Visa!"

Bravo to moms!

I've made it through one week on my own and all I can say is Bravo. Bravo to all the single moms out there who do this on their own day in and day out for years. One week alone and I am exhausted, lonely and taxed to the point of tears. And that's with a baby who sleeps 12 hours a night and is a perfect angel 90% of the time that she's awake! The most heartbreaking thing is the look on her face and the way she reaches for the screen whenever we talk to her dad on Skype. If there was ever any doubt in my mind about babies needing their daddies it has been erased by her reactions to those conversations! I know that the experiences she's having are great for her developing senses but I feel terrible taking her away from a person that she clearly loves so much.

I should clarify. So far we've had really great days and there are a lot of baby friendly free activities to do on the Big Island, more on that in another post. It has been a lot of fun and Kaitlyn has made a lot of friends wherever we go. Today, however, we had a rough ride down winding mountain roads as Kaitlyn screamed in the back for no reason other than that she wanted to be out of her car seat. I was hopped up on all the coffee samples and starving. We arrived in the little village of Holualoa only to find the cafe closed, after struggling to get a stuck stroller out of the car with Kaitlyn still crying. After she finally fell asleep I popped into local artist Shelly Maudsley White's gallery because she had an inviting looking sofa and brightly colored paintings, and I really needed a break. We talked for a while and she ended up giving me a print that I had admired! Even sleeping, Kaitlyn is winning hearts. That or Shelly could tell that I really needed a pick me up since I almost lost it in her gallery.

One week down, two more to go.

Aloha from Hawaii!

Big news, I've taken my six month old daughter on vacation to Hawaii for three weeks. By myself. If you're like most of the people I've met so far, you've probably just thought "wow, that's brave!" Maybe it is but the way I see it, single mothers have to do this for much longer than three weeks and they don't get to do it in Paradise. I decided to do the vacation because Kaitlyn has never been outside without being bundled up and because I will probably never again have the opportunity to take an extended vacation with just one child to take care of.

So I thought I'd write about our visit here and my experiences in trying out single motherhood for a few weeks. The posts will be short because I'm typing on an iPad but I'll try to keep you updated with the positives and negatives.

I chose Kailua-Kona for our vacation primarily because of the vacation home rental that I found. I'm staying in a basement suite with hosts who are very baby friendly at a cost of only $46 per night. That gets me two bedrooms, two bathrooms and a shared kitchen. I'm also armed with a rental car and, most importantly, a jolly jumper.

So, how is it going? Well on the first day I wanted to nominate myself for worst mother of the year. I stopped in at a beach so that Kaitlyn could feel the sand on her toes and while I was looking for my camera she face planted into the sand. It was in her eyes, ears and of course she grabbed a fist full and shoved it in her mouth. I was too busy worrying about her eyes and dumping my water bottle in her facets flush them out to notice that the sand didn't bother her one bit. And yes, her diapers have been interesting since then.

The next couple of days have been a little better. Taking her to the beach, a planned trip this time, proved to be a lot of work and a lot of stuff to carry but was rewarded with seeing turtles and an impromptu hula show. Unfortunately the hula show woke her up just when she had fallen asleep and I had relaxed with my Kindle for the first time. At least her smiles make up for the lack of personal time!

The goal on this trip is to give her experiences that she wouldn't have in Whitehorse and to challenge myself to enjoy being alone. We'll see how we do.

S is for Sleep, T is for Tummy

It's confession time. My daughter, Kaitlyn, sleeps on her tummy. She has since the day she came home from the hospital and started sleeping on my chest, except for a month of practically sleepless nights when we tried to force back sleeping through swaddling and other methods. So there it is. Personally, I think it's a not-so-dirty little secret that more than a few moms have but no one will admit to it because the Back to Sleep campaign that started in 1994 has everyone scared out of their wits.

Yes, it is true that since the Back to Sleep campaign started, the incidents of SIDS deaths has decreased by half. However, the campaign was launched with other advice such as "Don't smoke around your children," and "Breast is best." These are two important statements that have a huge impact on infant health but they are rarely associated with SIDS discussions.

A 1992 study found that only 13% of U.S. infants were put to sleep on their back; generations before us were instructed to make babies sleep on their tummies. One popular thought was that the baby could choke if they spit up. I like to think that theory went out the window the first time someone did some actual thinking about it.

Another popular baby care idea was to only formula feed, but we have happily moved back to an emphasis on breastfeeding, coincidentally encouraged around the same time as back sleeping. I'm sure that the next generation will have a whole new set of ideas about the way babies should be raised. The way I see it, we wouldn't have gotten this far as a species if babies were only meant to sleep on their backs.

Am I nervous about her sleeping on her tummy? Absolutely. Especially since we moved her into her crib in the other room. Those first few weeks I probably woke up every 20 minutes to check on her. Still, at five months old, if I wake up and don't hear a sound from her within a few minutes, I'll find an excuse to get out of bed and take a look at her. So it's not without sacrifice. But a 2004 study cited in Medical News Today, although they continue to recommend back sleeping at the end, showed that babies who have experience sleeping on their tummies are better able to provide themselves with fresh air because they turn their heads completely.

I have also noticed that she sleeps more soundly, and for longer, than most other babies I know. She learned how to find and put her soother in far sooner than other babies were even aware of objects around them. And she's a very happy baby who knows that when I put her on her tummy with her soother, it's time for a nap. All of this is supported by numerous studies done since 1998 that show babies who sleep on their tummies have increased motor skills, social skills and cognitive ability development.

In researching this post, I saw that a lot of people recommended a tight swaddle for babies in order to get them to sleep on their backs. Really? That doesn't seem a little unnatural to you? Kaitlyn was swaddled for the first month when we were really desperate to try to get her settled but babies need to move in order to develop skills. It's perfectly normal for them to wake up a few times a night and practice, which is much harder from the back.

Now I'm not saying all babies should go to sleep on their tummies, I'm just saying that mine does and we shouldn't be afraid to admit it. It seems to be a preferred position for many babies and there is a lot of research supporting the healthy development of babies who sleep in the prone position. There are a lot of factors that go into SIDS and a mom who has a healthy, normal weight baby who is breast-fed and lives in a non-smoking environment (hopefully that's most of them!) should not be terrified to let their baby sleep in whatever their preferred position is.

So, what do you do?

I used to ask people, upon meeting them, what they did for a living. I thought you could learn a lot from a person based on their answer and it's true, you can. And if I'm being honest with myself, and you, I was a little judgemental. We all use social norms to categorize people and for me, that was the fastest way to put people in a box and determine whether or not I might have something in common with them. At the very least, it was a way to start a conversation. I knew that I had an interesting job that I liked to talk about so maybe they would too.

I thought about all of this today as my five month old daughter screamed in my ear for the umpteenth time (she's suffering through a bit of a cold) and I wondered how I would answer that question now. Would I talk about the job that I'll be going back to in September? Would I say that I would love to be an at-home mom? And what would the pre-baby me think upon meeting me and hearing me answer with "I'm a mom"? Probably some pleasant chit-chat and then turn the conversation to her own, far more exciting career.

Robert Fulghum has an excellent essay about answering this question in his book It was on fire when I lay down on it. He describes himself as everything that he is. Father, preacher, singer, dishwasher, dancer, neighbour, dreamer, traveler... the list goes on. I've always thought, even as I waited to slide people into a box, that this was an exceptionally good answer. What a lot of conversation topics! But of course, with a person who answers like that, there would probably never be a lag in conversation to begin with. And why can't we be all of the things that we are? As he notes in his essay, that is not what people want to hear.

So the question now becomes, what do I want my answer to be? Who do I want society to see me as? I would love to be an at-home mom but would I ever be comfortable answering the question that simply? Can I identify myself with out a career? Or would I feel the need to explain what I used to do, before I became a mom. It's a question I'm not sure I'm ready to answer and, since I never go anywhere without my daughter these days, no one even asks.