My husband and I love to travel and usually go on 2 trips a year. So when the twins arrived we wondered when we would travel again, how we would travel again.

We were supposed to go to Portugal for 2 weeks in August/September but had the crazy idea to move again so our trip to visit family was postponed. We couldn’t go a year without going somewhere; our last getaway was a long weekend in New York when I was 5 months pregnant.

Our bodies were yearning for sun so we booked a week in Bahamas…with the twins.

We were trying to decide how we could get the most out of a vacation in the sun with twins – how could we enjoy the sun, sand & water and still have the twins nap and play and be happy. We decided that renting a house would be a great option, while the twins were napping or down for the night we could still sit outside and enjoy the weather, go for a swim in the pool and be able to eat when we wanted. We didn’t want to be stuck in a hotel room whispering once the babes were sleeping so a resort was out.

The wonderful people we rented the house from were amazing. They arranged for 2 car seats, 2 pack and plays, 2 high chairs and anything else we needed or wanted. The flight to Bahamas was uneventful, the twins made friends with everyone, they ate and even slept for a little bit; but sleeping for an hour from 6am to 2pm made for very tired babies when we landed (why do flights to warm climates always have to be so damn early in the morning?).

One thing we noticed about Bahamas that is a shame is the lack of nice public beaches, the island is full of hotels and resorts that take up the prime real estate. Having somewhere to warm up the babies bottles and food was a necessity. Thankfully my husband has a friend who lives on the island and was kind enough to give us a pass to his private club/beach. By the end of the vacation we had spent everyday but one at that private beach, they warmed up the babes bottles and food for us at their restaurant, we were waited on by a great guy named Carlton who was a twin himself, they had cabanas that they twins enjoyed their naps in and we were able to enjoy the sun, sand and water.

You quickly realize that your travel life with kids is so much different than travel life solo. You can’t just pick up and go anywhere, you can’t just wing it and hope you can find somewhere to eat, cool off, sit in the shade and all the other things you need to worry about with kids.

I realized on about day 3 that it wasn’t so much a vacation but the same routine in a better location. We didn’t get to go out for romantic dinners alone, we cooked every night, we took turns getting to do the things we wanted. My husband went diving one morning and I sat on the beach and read in peace one afternoon. Like everything, there has to be give and take.

Do I think it was a vacation? Yes and no. Was it worth it – absolutely! It was great to see the twins experiencing the sand and ocean for the first time. I also realized how adaptable and friendly the babes are. Sofie was happy to play in the sand all day, she didn’t want to nap and didn’t put up a fuss whereas Sebastian needed his sleep so we made sure he got his rest.

Denise Dillon is currently on maternity leave from her job in risk management/compliance in the financial industry. She met the love of her life 10 years ago at work and has been married to him for 5 of those years.  The exhausted 34-year-old mom of 10 month old fraternal twins has been trying to find herself within the mess of her new life while enjoying the view outside her windows in south Durham. Read the twins’ adventures at The Pinto Beans.

Watching Christmas television specials is one of my most cherished childhood pastimes. It seems like yesterday that I was allowed to stay up late on those nights and cuddle with my parents on our couch to watch ‘Frosty the Snowman’ and ‘Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.’

I always knew that when I had children I wanted them to experience it too.

A couple Christmas’ ago Adrian bought me a DVD box set with all the original Christmas classics that I watched every year as a child. For the past couple of weeks I’ve been playing some of them for Ayven to enjoy, and this year he’s enjoying them that much more.

While Adrian worked the night shift one night last week I decided to let Ayven stay up past his bed time and cuddle on the couch with homemade cookies to watch holiday specials. We flipped between ‘The Santa Clause’ with Tim Allen, ‘The Grinch’ with Jim Carrey and one of my all time childhood faves: the 1970 Mickey Rooney and Fred Astaire Christmas classic, ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town.’ There’s just something about those wood-carved models and crackling character voices that brings me back to Christmas as a six-year-old. Nothing is more comforting. It’s like I feel the warmth and sparkle of Christmas every time I hear that mailman’s intro alongside his mail truck and cheesy musical serenade between Kris Kringle and the Winter Warlock.

I always preferred those wooden modeled-oldies over the original ‘The Grinch Who Stole Christmas,’ although I love the sounds of that classic’s songs. “Fah-who for-aze! Dah-who dor-aze! Welcome Christmas, Christmas day!” *sigh* I love it.

Ayven seemed to prefer ‘The Santa Clause,’ which I owned on VHS and used to watch randomly and probably too often even as a teenager. I can’t get enough of Tim Allen’s humour in that one.

I frequently glanced at Ayven with oatmeal cookies smeared around his lips and bright eyes gazing at the specials. I remembered how much they meant to me as a child and my imagination soaring each time.

Now as a grown adult I reminisce but I also don’t forget my age and how Christmas is now more structured. Budgets and lists and gathering broken bulbs your kid just threw kind of takes away from the spirit and sparkle of Christmas. But as I think about all the amazing imaginative visions soaring through Ayven’s young mind I remind myself that me re-living my childhood memories through him is him keeping that Christmas spirit alive for me. Just like it was yesterday, in my Mom’s arms, with the soothing sound of Christmas cheer and beneath the snow-filled sky.
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Krystle Pereira is a 23-year-old mom to 2.5-year-old Ayven and common-law wife to Adrian, a tradesman.  They live in north Oshawa and are anxiously planning to purchase their first home.  Krystle interrupted her journalism studies to become a full-time mom but is returning to school in the new year for  medical administration.  She is a lover of organization, hater of clutter, and seeker of balance for family and lifestyle as a young Mom. Read her chronicles of young motherhood at Starting Young.

Changes and announcements are a’coming here soon! Stay tuned…

In the meantime, I’m looking for some Durham mummas to become regular guest bloggers. Any age, any # of kids (I know a few of you have twins!), or ages of kids (especially older ones) etc. welcome, as are grandparents (Audrey, you still reading?), aunts, uncles and dads. I’d love to get a diverse group from different locations in the Region, too (north Durham/Boonies parents, I’m looking at you).

No experience necessary!

Interested? Email me at info@durhamregionbaby.com with some info about you and why you want to write.

I came across this great Canadian website called Just the Facts, Baby, a few weeks ago. Run by two journalist moms, the site is a unique combination of 30-second quick facts and in-depth, professionally written articles targeted to today’s mom: Smart, busy and looking for reliable health and parenting information she can trust. Sydney and Nancy offered up this great article for a guest blog post — enjoy!

By Alison Dunn

Giving birth is one of the most physically challenging experiences a woman can go through. And, with the excitement of preparing for the baby’s arrival, new moms sometimes forget that they’re going to need a little TLC too. While most childbirth instructors give you a list of what to get for the baby, they often overlook a few items that mom might need for herself, says Joyce Mackay-Perry, a registered nurse from Ottawa, Ontario. Here’s her list of what a new mom needs to survive once the baby arrives:

1. Epsom salts
Add these to your bath water to ease aches and promote healing. “Using Epsom salts will help you heal faster; it’s a natural ingredient that helps draw out toxins,� says Mackay-Perry. She recommends putting them in a bath to help heal hemorrhoids and stitches (either from an episiotomy or tearing), or even just to ease muscle aches and back pain. Be sure to ask for a sitz bath at the hospital and add the salts to that as well. If you had a caesarian section, however, you shouldn’t bathe until your doctor gives you the go-ahead.

2. Baby teething gel
Yes, you can use this for teething, but here’s a secret tip for new moms: use a little on your bottom before that first post-delivery bowel movement to help combat any pain you might encounter. Just one of those things no one tells you before you have the baby!

3. Gripe water
Gripe water, available in most drug stores, can help ease colic or gas in newborns, says Mackay-Perry. While ingredients vary from brand to brand, it can include mint, ginger, dill, fennel and chamomile. There aren’t any clinical studies that have proven its effectiveness, but Mackay-Perry says a few drops can help baby burp, easing minor gas pains. You can also pop it in the fridge to help ease teething pain down the road.

4. 100% pure lanolin cream
The first few days of nursing can be tough–try using a lanolin-based cream to bring relief to dry, cracked nipples. Lanolin is a fat found in sheep’s wool and is used in many cosmetic products. A 100 percent pure lanolin cream, like Lansinoh or Pure Lan, is safe and non-toxic for baby. “You don’t have to wash it off, either,â€? says Mackay-Perry. (Edit: I hated lanolin creams with Lucy, finding them sticky and not helpful at all, but some breastfeeding experts and moms swear by it… I’ve loved Nipple Butter, and am currently using Dr. Jack Newman’s cream to help repair some sores courtesy of bad latching)

5. Soft gel pack for the freezer
Place the gel pack on your chair before sitting to relieve discomfort for those first few days post-delivery. Or, as an alternative, soak a diaper or maxi pad in water and freeze to use when sitting. (Edit: Awesome idea. In the hospital, they had “icy fingers”: Three fingers of a latex glove filled with water and frozen. Wrapped in a towel and set between the legs, it was wonderful)

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My beautiful sister-in-law, Jenni, is one of the sweetest, most interesting and kind women I know. She absolutely adores Lucy, and she and Eric’s brother, Lucy’s Uncle Stinky, jump at any chance to spend time with her. This summer, Jenni surprised us with this wonderful write-up of their first weekend together.

For Carly and Eric’s Anniversary, Uncle Mark and I stole Lucy for an overnight trip to our house. We were very excited. Since moving into our new, more spacious house in June, we have been planning a Lucy sleepover. In our old, loft-style condo, having a Lucy sleepover was near impossible unless we wanted to put her to sleep in our walk-in closest – one of the only rooms with a door.

We started the weekend off by shaking our sillies out to Raffi…

…and stuffing animals into a jar. Lucy’s memory amazes me. She played this game a month ago when she came over for a play date. The jar has moved, but as soon as she saw it she picked it up and said “Animals go in here!â€? – and so they did.

This is why it’s great being the Aunt and Uncle – we let her play in water in her running shoes and didn’t care:

She got soaked – we had a blast – and Uncle Mark got to carry the very wet monkey home. Which he would do again in a heartbeat because she snuggled in close and said things like, “Oh flowers – I like them …. and Uncle Mark.â€? Uncle Mark turned to goo from her cuteness.

We came home and blew bubbles, read stories and went to bed. We were so happy that she was sleeping within 15 minutes with no tears or any major meltdowns.

In the morning we wanted to do a bunch of outdoor activities but it was going to RAIN: the only day it rained for the whole week. We were very sad. With some mad researching after Lucy went to bed, Uncle Mark and I came up with the Ontario Science Centre. They have a whole floor dedicated to children under eight. Lucy could have spent the whole day there if we had let her. Our morning looked like this:

 
Playing at the water station

The bubble station

At the Mini Market – where Uncle Mark ate a fake plastic chicken.
This market was very cool.

Lastly we visited Living Earth and walked across a bridge beside a beautiful waterfall.

One of the best moments happened as we were leaving the Science Centre: Lucy, out of nowhere exclaims “Scieeeeennnnnce!� Uncle Mark, who loves science and technology, thought this was the coolest.

We had an amazing weekend with our little niece. She shared so many laughs, so many hugs, lots of kisses, many “I like Uncle Mark� and just as many “No Uncle Marky, Jenni do�. We got to play in the water with the wrong shoes on, give Dora Popsicles as a snack, stay up past her bedtime and eat chocolate for lunch.

Uncle Mark and I cannot wait for the next sleepover and neither can our kitty Cynthia (she thought Lucy was an OK kid).

 
It is for these reasons, and a million more, that we love being Auntie Jenni and Uncle Mark.

I recently read this really interesting article about whether this generation of parents is over-investing in our children: Are we hyper-parenting freaks trying to keep up with the Joneses?

The author, Tim, of Canadian Dream: Free at 45 (a fabulous blog about his journey to retire at age 45) is letting me republish it here, and I’d love to know what you think:

First off let me say I do love my kids. I love them so much I’m willing to have them hate me at times to ensure they become healthy, happy adults who can handle themselves in the world. Why is it then I feel like a minority most days?

I can’t tell you the number of new parents I meet that say “Wow kids are expensive!� I look at them like they have two heads. No, the reality is your kids don’t need the brand name clothes, diapers and you don’t have to buy a new car when your expecting your first. You will be surprised that even an Echo can fit two car seats in the back seat!

What has happen to people? Why are we trying to give our kids ever little thing that might give them a fraction of an IQ point edge over the kids next door? Do you really think everybody’s kids can be the next leader of your country or a president of a major corporation? Why does your kid need a PDA to keep track of their activities?

You know what I think. We feel guilty. We really do want the best for our children, but then we get sucked into some dumb advertising which stirs a slight feeling of guilt. Then we start with extra activities, lessons, booking play dates (does any one else recall just going over to your friends house to play on your own?) and before you know it we turned into hyper-parenting freaks.

This is the new world of keeping up with the Joneses. Instead of keeping up with them we want our kids to keep up with their kids. We are all systematically over investing in our children. The really scary thing about this is studies are showing it hasn’t help one bit. In fact it’s now gone too far and we are producing a generation of over dependent children.

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I hope you all remember my sweet long distance friend, Angie, who moved from Whitby to Saskatchewean around two years ago. She has written here before about her son, Alexander, who recently turned a year old. She joins us today for a special update.

Nearly 14 months ago, my husband Joe and I, were practically knocked off of our feet with the surprise news that our second-born son, Alex, had Down syndrome. His birth day started off as an exhilarating, joyous day but ended with tears, confusion and fear.

But that was then and that was before we knew our son or anything about Down syndrome.

“Don’t you just sometimes feel like kicking yourself in the butt for feeling sorry for ourselves, when he was born?�? I said to my husband Joe last night after dinner as I bounced Alex on my knee.

Today, March 21, is World Down Syndrome Day, chosen to represent the three copies of the 21st chromosome, which result in Down syndrome. In celebration of my wonderful little guy, here, Alex, are 21 things I love and adore about you:

1. Your big and wide gummy grin, which is about to quickly disappear now that you have two toothbuds coming through.
2. Your fascination with and adoration of your older brother Isaac. I’ve managed to capture this in pictures.
3. How you vigorously rock your Exersaucer back and forth to move from one side of the kitchen to the other.
4. Your drive-me-up-the-wall habit of pulling your socks and Robbies off and chewing on them. Keeping your feet warm this past winter has not been easy!
5. Your evening chats with Isaac during your bath. “Ah brah, brah, brah, brah!�?
6. How you suck your thumb when you are sleepy and in need of a nursing session.
7. Your baby snoring. (I can hear you over the monitor this very second as I type this).
8. Your spikey hair that won’t stay down if I don’t comb it right after your bath.
9. Your baby aerobics that consist of pushing up on all fours and bouncing four times and then collapsing on your belly and then repeating it over and over and over again.
10. Your one-arm army crawl.
11. How you use your tongue to explore everything: your reflection in the mirror, lunch leftovers on your hands, the handles on your dresser drawer.
12. Your most recent accomplishment of sitting up independently. I love, love watching you sit up with your legs stretched straight out in front of you and your little toes wiggling around.
13. When you are really upset or scared, how your bottom lips pops out first, followed seconds later, by the most heartbreaking wail I’ve ever heard.
14. How you clap your hands with excitement when we say, “Yeah Alex!�? or applaud yourself when we practice standing you up.
15. Your deep, deep laughs when we tickle your belly.
16. When you blow raspberries back at me. We have some of the most interesting conversations this way.
17. In the morning, when you snuggle up to me in bed for a few more zzzzzzs. Sadly this is becoming less and less frequent as you are showing more interest in getting up to explore your new world and spend time with big bro.
18. Your reaction when daddy walks through the door: your mouth and eyes open up wide like a big O, and you clap your hands and feet in giddiness and kind of jump around.
19. How you steal the spoon from me when you’ve had enough at mealtime. It’s impossible sometimes to wrestle it out of your hands!
20. How you make a growling sound when you are not pleased with something.
21. And finally…I love that you, sweet baby boy, who has melted my heart a thousand times and over again, came to this family and that you are ours.

I get Baby Toolkit’s posts via email, and was absolutely stunned to read this in my inbox late last week. I had no idea any of this happened, and thought all of you should know, too:

To the utter astonishment of friends and relatives, Jim and I quit chocolate cold turkey in 2001. We were chocoholics of the first degree. When I cleaned out the kitchen for all our chocolate we found over 14 pounds — not counting things containing cocoa.

At first I thought I would lose my mind. One night someone walked past me in a Circuit City smelling of Butterfinger bar and my consuming envy made me want to tackle them and bounce their head off the floor a few dozen times. I’m not a violent person, so this bizarre desire definitely meant I had momentarily relocated to downtown, central Crazy.

Chocolate was to me comfort, reward, and love. My beloved grandmother used to keep chocolate bars stashed for the grandkids, so it’s hard not to associate a Nestle Crunch with the pure joy of visiting grandma. My grandma loved kids, all kids — so much that she dedicated her life to schools and orphanages in Africa. I’m sure she had similar treats for the kids there.

As a result of my grandparents’ work, I always had a heightened sense of Africa. My mom never said “Eat your dinner, there are starving children in Africa.” Instead, I overheard conversations about war, coups, government closure of schools and orphanages, poverty, famine, police that show up in the middle of the night, imprisonment, execution, and families that had become kin to ours fleeing their nation through dangerous means both legal and illegal. I have always felt thankful not to have been born there, and I deeply respected my grandparents’ courage to work in such a dangerous place.

So…when I found out that virtually every American chocolate bar is tainted with child slavery (enacted in Africa), I didn’t want to believe it. Knight-Ridder had a series of articles outing the use of child slaves to harvest cocoa and coffee beans* in the Ivory Cost and Mali. It’s fallen off most of the news site because its age (2001), but it’s been reprinted here.

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 Cindy, from Courtice, concludes the touching true story of her sister, Jennifer. See all five chapters under Guest Bloggers.

I believe that everyone put on this earth is deserving of love, respect, patience and justice, regardless of who you are and your overall mental capacity. In the case of Katlin Cousineau, she wasn’t given that chance.

She became a statistic – evidence of how the mentally challenged are considered the bottom rung of our society, not worthy of our tax dollars, susceptible to abuse – and in death, not even warranted a respectable sentence of punishment for those who helped cause such a horrific and senseless crime.

With this woman, even though her ‘friend’ and these two men had actually been behaving badly towards her in the weeks before her horrible death in the basement, she wouldn’t have understood the animosity.  She would have, in her mind, continued to do whatever was asked in order to smooth over the conflict that she was sure she was responsible for.

Jennifer does that all the time. If anyone in the family is upset, Jennifer will get equally upset and agitated. She becomes jumpy, and searches for and suggests any solution that will solve the situation, whether it’s begging for pizza to be ordered because my dad is upset the potatoes were burned so he won’t be angry that supper is now ruined. Or, demanding a doctor be called because my mom is puking her guts out in the basement bathroom with a bad case of the flu.

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Cindy, from Courtice, continues the touching true story of her sister, Jennifer. Look for the conclusion next week.

Years ago, I met a woman while I was waiting in my doctor’s office. She confided that her blood work and other tests for her upcoming pregnancy revealed there was a good chance her baby would be born with Down’s Syndrome.

I asked her how she felt about that. She looked at me and replied in a voice filled with forced effort – as if to convince not only me, but herself as well – that every child was a gift from God.

I didn’t know what to say to that. But as I sat there, I thought about Jennifer.

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