The Hyphen House

As an infant, Daphne hated the car. Driving was the worst kind of torture for all of us. In an attempt to soothe everyone, I put on Wanted on Voyage. For some reason or another, she decided she liked you. So your CD stayed in the car, on repeat.

By the time she turned one, my husband and I made sure we had your album on our phones at the ready. It calmed her down, made her smile and helped everyone breathe. When my parents came to visit, they frantically asked, "What's the name of the artist she likes so we can download?"

It's a kind of magic. I wish we had video of how, mid-meltdown, we'd turn on one of your songs and she'd stop crying. Or how she'd wiggle her shoulders to your music before she could stand.

By the time she could talk, she began to request you. "Ezwa?"

I'm not a fan of "kid" music, so I'm ever so grateful that she latched onto you. No "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" here - just "Blame it on Me." Songs 1-6 are her favourite. Sometimes we get to 7 and she fusses for us to start over. "Cassio" is perhaps the best, as we change it to "Daphne-o." Each time we try to introduce a new artist, she protests.

She is much too impatient to wait between songs. "More! More!" she exclaims during the five-second break.

It's fitting that she decided to love a travel-themed album. We've taken her to six countries and even been to Budapest so far - taking you with us everywhere.

So, thank you. Thank you for making my daughter so happy. Thank you for not making us listen to kid songs over and over. Thank you for creating music that delights a very special little girl and inspires her parents.

I heard very few weaning stories before it was time for Dash and I to finish our nursing relationship. More would have been helpful, so here's mine.

I hoped to breastfeed for two years (or longer), given the research I had done about the health and psychological benefits for both of us. I also said I would breastfeed for as long as it was good for both of us, even if that didn't meet my timeframe.

After I got through the first three months of feeding, breastfeeding honestly didn't feel like a chore. We had an incredible bond, my husband was incredibly supportive and (bonus) I ate whatever I wanted and lost weight. As I was on maternity leave for a year (thanks, England!), she was with me all the time and bf on demand made her disdain for bottle easier to cope with. I was lucky and had few issues (an early tongue tie, mastitis once) and even though she fed every few hours day and night it was such a part of the rhythm of my life that I didn't mind so much. Of course, I had my moments/days of wanting to stop immediately because I felt she was sucking the life out of me, but those were few and far between.

At ten months, I was over night feeding and we did Jay Gordon's gentle night weaning program which worked well for us. I occasionally fed her during the night (especially during times of teething or travel), but for the most part, continued to nurse D throughout the day whenever she asked.

Around 14 months, I dropped to three feeds per day - morning, afternoon and night. This was good for my part-time teaching schedule and made me feel more freedom. Again, this wasn't a hard and fast rule, but a general pattern. I also stopped feeding from the right side as my milk supply had basically dried up and she always preferred the left anyway.

Around 18 months, she started going to sleep on her own. Although she didn't need me to feed her to sleep since about a year, I did much of the time because it was easy and special. But she suddenly started sleeping better and began to enjoy a little time on her own before sleep at night. She slept longer stretches (which made me feel great because I had heard from soooo many people that breastfed babies don't sleep well and weaning them is what changes that). All of this occurred as the natural progression of her independence.

As she was losing interest in breastfeeding and I was losing patience with it, I dropped the afternoon feed and shortly thereafter dropped the morning. At that point, it was clear that we were both ready to end that part of our relationship, but I went back and forth about it.

At 19 months, I planned for my last feed to be the night before our two-week spring break started and my parents arrived for a long visit. I figured this process was going to be harder on me than it was on Dash, so I wanted the extra support of my family and the distraction of a holiday.

I didn't know how insane the hormonal change would make me feel. I got terrible acne (worse than when I was pregnant) and ugly cried on multiple occasions. Emotionally, the grief was so intense that I felt like someone was dying. I was mourning the end of this relationship (with a hefty dose of hormones). I had shared my body with my baby for nearly 10 months of pregnancy and 20 months of breastfeeding. As we don't plan to have another biological baby, I knew this would be my only experience.

The second to last feed was actually the hardest. I don't know why necessarily. Our last time nursing was a Friday, and we spent the whole day together. We went to lunch and shopping (I bought myself a weaning present) and took a cuddle nap. My partner was working that night so we had a quick, sweet (except that she bit me for the first time in ages) feed in the "milk chair" and that was that.

My parents arrived, E and I spent the night away together, and then we all went on a trip. I was happy, my skin was clearing and I had come to terms with the decision to stop breastfeeding. Because I stopped so gradually, I had no pain or soreness.

Dash's grief hadn't caught up to her until Easter Sunday, nearly 10 days after the last feed. She was rather ill and overstimulated and overtired and she reverted. She asked me for milk, lunged for my breast and sobbed when I said that milk was all done. She wouldn't let me even hold her, so I laid on the bed next to her and we both cried ourselves to sleep. It was awful.

I went to my parent's hotel room and climbed in bed next to my mom. She assured me that I was a good mom, I had had a special nursing relationship and there would be other transitions in our mother/daughter relationship that would be much more challenging than this one (like when your daughter moves away to England - not that she's still upset about that :). Dash woke up happy and played with the grandparents while Eric held me as I watched hours of TV, exhausted.

After Easter, all was well. This transition sounds dramatic because it was for me... I know others for whom it's been more smooth and others for whom it's been more painful because it wasn't their choice. I am SO glad I have pictures of Dash feeding at my breast. I recommend all mamas take photos of their babies feeding (breast, bottle, whatever) because it is such a huge and defining part of your life.

Thankfully, Dash still likes to drink her milk in my lap, cuddled in the nursing position (for a few moments anyway). I treasure my nursling.

Hope is a wellspring.
Love is indeterminant.
Exhausted.
Betrayed.
Belittled.
Outraged.
Harassed.
Extricated.
Underappreciated.
Rising above it all because I'm still worthwhile.
Finding new paths.
The best revenge is a life well lived.
Hope is a waterfall.
Love is hard.
Growing up,
Growing older,
Growing together,
Growing apart.
Small unit strengthens and it's enough.
Tragedy is not an event.
Racism is not past.
Terror is not what we think it is.
Just so tired.
Even dreams aren't restful.
Solace.
Strength.
Stillness.
Silence.
Friends are my society.
Stillness can be moving.
Peace can be empowering.
Real justice is not earthly.
Reconsidering spirituality and it's not scary.
Christ is still center but there's no belt on my bible.
Becoming an Ally.
Or trying.
Hope is a rainy day.
The Gospel is peace.
My uncertainty might be strength.
Take a risk.
Suffer judgement.
Seek equality.
Endure scorn.
Few are willing to stand up.
Injustice is overwhelming.
Paralyzed by the fear that I contribute.
But not enough to make all the changes.
How many lives.
Hope is a river.
Blue eyes, curly hair.
Curious.
Stubborn.
Soulful.
So much love.
Moving onwards,
Moving upwards.
Coming to terms and still unsettled.
Clinging to hope.
Holding to love.

A few years ago, I was watching a programme of house hunters searching for a holiday home in Slovenia. I had never heard of Slovenia. I was kind of embarrassed about that because it looked so beautiful. We are finally going to make our way there on an upcoming holiday.

Lake Bled, Slovenia by Mark Gregory via Flickr

When I mentioned to a friend that we would be in France for Christmas, she said she'd be in Aix-en-Provence with her family if we wanted to meet up. I knew not one thing about Aix, but her description got me interested and after a bit or research we decided to spend four days there. What a charming town!

"Budapest is the new Prague" said a friend of a friend. This was kind of a ridiculous thing to say, but it perked my ears to both cities. I looked them both up, we went eventually to both and loved them.

All this to say inspiration for travel can come from a number of places. In my early galavanting across Europe I stuck to the tried and true London, Paris and Italy plan. I thoroughly enjoyed those trips but am glad to have ventured further from the norm.

We love hotels. We especially love how comfortable they are and that someone cleans your room for you every day.

But when we added a child to our travel list we started to see the benefit of more than one room, a kitchen and a home base.

It also turns out that it can be quite a bit cheaper.

Then there's the added bonus of staying in a residential area. You get a flavour of local life instead of sequestered holiday life.

We have stayed in a second floor city apartment (with two sets of stairs before you reached the elevator, which was a good workout with a stroller), a fishing cottage, a basement level duplex on a cobblestone street, a historic home in a small town and an efficiency by a bowling alley (that one wasn't great, but it was cheap).

Sites we like:

Homeaway
Airbnb
Booking
Expedia
Flipkey

It's also wise to ask your international friends or peruse house-swapping forums. You might get lucky!

One of the biggest time-savers to packing is to take inventory of your travel items while you are actually on holiday so you can prepare for the next time.

I put a piece of paper in my toiletries kit so I can record what I've run out of. It's usually a pretty boring list like toothpaste, deodorant and q-tips. But it saves me time and also the threat of oversight. I also look through my carry-on for things like gum and chapstick that always seem to disappear.

I also try to do shopping to replace such items pretty soon after we return home. This will not rule out the possibility of a run to the drugstore the night before our next trip but it takes away some of the headache.

Lindsay_NYC via Flickr

I start planning for a trip months in advance. This gives me a concrete holiday to look forward to and allows us to spread out the cost.

"Calendar of Modern Times" by Kristoffersonschach via Flickr

For example, I purchase the plane tickets one month, accommodation the next and items needed for travel the next. You don't quite feel the weight of it that way.

Of course, if you are disciplined you could just save money over a period of months and purchase everything at once. But this is more realistic for me!