I am considering back dating a bunch of blog posts and make it look like I haven’t waited over five months to introduce my son to the blog. After this long lull in writing, no one would probably notice since you aren’t likely to be reading this anymore.

The last six months have been pretty busy, and very much focused on coping with a new baby and sleep deprivation. Everyone warns you about the first 6 weeks or 3 months, but you really don’t get it. I thought to myself, how hard could this be? Feed, change, sleep. And while the work itself isn’t hard, it’s just the newest of it all. And the fear of mishandling the little guy. And the hormonal imbalance. And the lack of sleep.  And the crying (me, not Zach!).

Looking back at it all, I wonder if it could have been made easier. Perhaps slightly as one major stress for me was our crib purchase but my major battle was breast feeding. The first week at home with Zach was great - calm because he did lots of sleeping. But we really struggled with breast feeding and that led to late night wrestling matches. I dreaded every feed because of the horrific pain I experienced. Every feed was a battle to get him to latch, with open wounds to show after each session. My breasts were just constantly sore.

Breastfeeding is a VERY sensitive issue. Every interfering government and NHS organisation pays lip service to the concept, but when it goes wrong, there isn’t anywhere to turn to for help. I read books that told me, pain meant a bad latch and I should get help.  I visited the DR - who diagnosed me with mastitis, gave me penicillin and told me to stop cold turkey. I went to ‘breastfeeding cafes’ that the NHS hosts and was given very naive advice from well-meaning Health Visitors to make sure I was ‘nose to nipple’. At one point, Mitch had to hold me back as I swear I was ready to slap the next person silly that repeated that phrase to me. I had his nose to my toes - no wonder this wasn’t working!

What did I learn: that you have to be very proactive and aggressive about getting help. If I was any less stubborn, I would have quit breastfeeding in the hospital when the midwives started offering me formula. I came to realise that pain in breastfeeding does NOT always mean poor latch. It also can be due to 1) an open wound, 2) sensitive skin that needs to be toughened, 3) thrush caused by penicillin (Zach didn’t have any issue), 4) a tongue-tied baby. Too bad none of the health professionals I spoke with seemed to know this.

But I persisted and figured a lot of this out for myself. And so Zach was breast fed for over five months. That is thanks to a private consultant, Lynda Leach (who hosted a Breastfeeding class in Notting Hill that I attended prenatally), to Cathy Sage (a private breastfeeding supporter in Southwest London) and my good friends Rosalie and Ingrid in Canada (who were five hours behind and therefore on the phone with me at 3am encouraging me not to quit). They kept saying that it would get better - which it slowly did. Unfortunately, the early battles left many scars and I have now had over 5 rounds of penicillin due to recurring mastitis. As I wean, I’ve switched to formula. I don’t consider that admitting defeat, I consider it making the best decision for both Zach and me at this stage.

So Zachary joined our family in late May. He’s just over 5 months old now and is an amazing little guy. He arrived rather punctually on his due date and has been a delight since he appeared. Great sleeper, laid back, smiley little guy. He’s just starting to teethe, so this should be an interesting new phase…

I was walking to work the other day, strolling down the street near the tube enjoying the lovely spring weather (more so than I should admit since I had heard Canada was blizzarding).

As I approached the tube pedestrian traffic starts to increase so I always walk a bit faster here (although these days most people pass me by). Directly across from the entrance to the tube, a couple stop to have a chat and then started to move on. As they did, the young man pulled his hand out of his pocket and out dropped a wad of paper.

I starred at that wad as I approached, considering my options. Should I tell him he dropped something? Or wait to see what it is? What if it’s money? Sure enough, two steps later I’m within seeing distance and the guy has indeed dropped at least ten quid.

Now I’d like to say I was being noble, but the truth is, even if I had wanted to I could not have bent over to pick up that wad. So without missing abeat or a step I called out: Hey dude, you just dropped ten quid!

He starts in surpirse, realises I’m addressing him and walks back to grab the cash calling out after me (a slow moving but purposeful stride/waddle): Thanks Luv for that! Aren’t you a lovely one!

Made me laugh - little did he know!

I’ve been learning some new phrases in London again and decided I need to share them:

Up the duff- meaning, pregnant

Pram - stroller

Cot - crib (but apparently a crib here is a smaller cot)

And my personal favourite: Ante-natal meaning pre natal (too funny when it’s misspelled as ‘anti’). So those who didn’t know, I am indeed pregnant and we are expecting a little one to join our merry London family in late Spring.

Being pregnant in London has been a real learning experience. It seems that everything is completely different than what I knew or expected. Having not had a child in Canada, I of course have not gone through the actual medical process. However, how friends have described there experiences seems fairly different that mine here in the UK.

There are some similarities or common terms but there are differences. First of all, the NHS (or the UK equivalent of OHIP), as in Canada, covers all costs. And here that means pre-natal (oops, meant ante-natal) care, delivery and such. But it also includes prescriptions and dental check up (who knew your gums suffered so much while preggers?!). Medical care here includes both my GP and with a midwife team. The day I visited my DR to confirm my pregnancy (which incidentally was VERY anti-climatic, since she just agreed with my diagnosis and didn’t do anything scientific to confirm it) I was also asked to select a hospital. Based on where we live, we had two options: Kingston or Chelsea-Westminster. I opted for Kingston as it’s closer to where I work (never can be too safe, taxi birth won’t be my first choice). It has two delivery ward options: midwife led or normal maternity. Both of which sound pretty similar except mid-wife ward has full water birth, oh and no epidurals (yikes!!!).

Once that was decided, I was then set up with my first appointment to meet a midwife at the Kingston Hospital’s Putney service (conveniently, even closer to my home). Since then, I’ve had fairly regular appointments - about once every six weeks which continues until the third trimester when you go more frequently. The service has been good so far. The midwifes (I see a different one every time) have all been very kind, patient and helpful. My GP is great too - she’s about 60 and warned me not to read too many books and just enjoy the experience (turns out she’s right). This week, I received the official form that confirms to my employer that I will indeed be taking a mat leave.

Which brings me to the next difference: work life balance. The law here is that I can take time off work for all medical appointments and such before mat leave, then mat leave is six months to a year. Six months means that I will go back to my exact role, if I stay the whole year they are only required to have a role at the same level for me, not necessarily the exact one I left. I’m ok with that. Seems quite civilized. And mat leave with my employer is great. I get a salary top-up for a while, continue to enjoy all of my benefits (car, mobile, bonus, product) and generally feel like they are quite family friendly (when I return to work they have a childcare voucher system in the UK where you pay pre-tax for it). Very nice.

They don’t do ‘Lamaze’ here but they do suggest you take an ante-natal class to learn relaxation techniques. They tell you its ok to drink a bit of (My GP seriously said that) and coffee (coffee and wine consumption with my pregnant friends here seems 50:50, some do, some don’t). Everyone asks about my intentions to breast feed - women AND men (very weird work situations to have men asking about your mammary glands in a very non-sexual harassment way). Everyone asks if we’re moving back to Canada to have the baby (nope!).

So far, all is well in London and this exciting new development, while quite the learning experience, it’s a very pleasant and happy one.

Love from London,

Julie

Warning - this post was written in October put I’m just posting it now

I said good bye recently to my lovely London flat in Putney. Two and a half lovely years there - so many great memories of parties, visitors.

I’m going to miss that place - even its flaws (like the fact that you could only flush the toilet once every 7 minutes). That apartment was my haven when I first moved to London. I remember my first couple of months when I looked over my shoulder every minute walking into my flat, sure I was about to be mugged (a small town girl’s fear of the big city!). Or that the counter space was about 10cm long, which made a pasta making party lots of fun as we had to hang it over the banister of dry (check out pics below).

When I first moved in, I ate off of one plastic plate using plastic cutlery. Then about three weeks later my stuff all arrived and it started to feel like home. Over the course of two years, all of the space got filled and it went from an emtpy space into one filled with items that all have a story to tell. Like the TV that Kate and Matt left me when they stayed there for a couple of weeks before they moved home.

Or the bookcase in the corner that another Kate gave me when she renovated her house. Or my personal favorite, the wardrobe I had delivered that was too big for the staircase so the delivery men left in outside and I had to take it apart, carry it piece by piece upstairs then reassemble - all on my own. (Thanks Cathy for your help that day!)

Lots of great memories but its time to move on. Bye Ashdown! It’s been fun.

Julie

Ps - stay tuned for my next post titled I’m in Putsworth now!

As the darkening skies and rain set in, I have decided to relive my summer holidays. It gives me pleasure to think of my time in the sun as the rain pours down here.

This summer, the holiday began with a wedding invitation to my colleague’s wedding in France. Mitch and I had already decided to do a bike tour in Italy, that we would drive to. However the wedding invitation meant we had to be in the exact furthest point west in France as possible from Italy. We decided to stick with a car and make it a road trip adventure. The plan: to drive from London to Portsmouth, ferry across to Le Havre, drive to Quimper, France for the wedding, then a meandering drive all the way through France and Italy to arrive in Umbria for a week’s tour before another meandering drive back up north through Europe to return to London (via another ferry from France).

The highlights: the very beautiful wedding, seeing Cinque Terre, being on a bike in sunny Umbria, food in Italy (gained 5 lbs!), making pasta in an Italian restaurant, buying bottles and more bottles of wine, seeing seven countries in 4 days, seeing Treviso, Italy where my family is originally from.

The challenges: GPS conflicts (small towns in Italy are not the GPS’s strength), an Italian disregard for fixing potholes, civil driving and booking tours, and a flat tire in the Alps that resulted in staying in a cute little town that was Tyrolean (half German, half Italian - bizarre but fun).

I do love holidays in Europe. The culture, the natural beauty, the pretty little towns and the weather - all so lovely. The tour we did included two days of cycling - and aside from some hard hills, I would definitely do that again (Need to train more next time). But the most amazing things was how easy it is to drive through all of the countries. It’s not many years ago when we would have had more border controls to deal with. Now, it’s just continuous highway. We did over 3000 miles and went through 5 countries and one city state without once using our passports. Amazing.

Time to start planning next summer’s adventure!

Julie x

Hello my lovelies,

I know it’s only the die hards reading my blog by now. Having dwindled to a monthly posting, my voracious writing habit has been replaced by something else, or maybe someone…

But I have a very good reason for the lack of blogs this time! I have been in the following places during the four weeks: Quimper and Lyon, France to Cinque Terre, to Umbria, to Treviso (all Italy) through Austria & Germany, Luxembourg for a night, London, New York, Toronto and Prague. Sounds exhausting doesn’t it? Just writing that list out has tired me so that I can’t go on. Stay tuned for what I was really up to in all of those places…

julie x

As some of you may know, I am a breakfast connoisseur.

Mitch suggests I am more of a gastronome butI don’t like the sound of it. That sounds like something on a piano to keep tempo. It also suggests it transcends breakfast and is more about food. But quite frankly, I could care less about lunch and dinner leaves me detached.

So last Sunday the big event of the day was a hair appointment for Mitch in Notting Hill at my hair salon (best quote of the day: “I’ve never had someone spend a whole hour cutting my hair.” Men! Really, a razor does not constitute a hair cut but I digress). We got up early that morning and I actually made breakfast. A really fabulous meal (I am a bit vain about my breakfast culinary skills) of French toast with caramalized banana and Canadian maple syrup. We then headed out for an afternoon in Notting Hill.

Wandering around the area that afternoon, we searched for a nice place that wasn’t too touristy or too snobby or too run down to linger over lunch. Sunday lunch is quite the tradition in this part of the world, and so you can often find lovely gastropubs serving roasts with all the fixings for lunch.

We had wandered for about 30 minutes and had rejected numerous pubs (too lively, too empty, too ugly) and had almost given up hope of finding something nearby. I was just about ready to give up the search and head back to our local for a reliably delicious roast when Mitch suggested we go back to check out what appeared to be a diner.

And indeed it was a diner! A very small diner with six booths down an obscure street on the fringe of Notting Hill. The menu was pure Americana and the prices were pure London. The milkshakes were £7.50! And although we had already breakfasted and it was well after noon, we couldn’t resist the allure of the Huevos Rancheros and Breakfast Burrito with Churitzo. The food was fabulous, the coffee with rich and tasty. And the service was friendly. The line up that formed waiting for our table perhaps attests to the quality of our meal.

So I give it 8 of 10 ☃ ☃ ☃ ☃ ☃ ☃ ☃ ☃ - and it has earned a place in my list of best breakfasts I’ve had here in the city. I still place Hudson’s on top at 9 out of 10 (better location for us, prices are better and ambiance suggests you linger).

For those who share my love of early morning meals, I will be taking you there one day soon!

Lunching in London,

julie x

It’s been fun exploring London in the summer. So far, we’ve had a picnic in Regent’s Park, cycled to markets, hosted visitors from Toronto, Scotland and Prescott. I’ve sailed down the canal, climbed St Paul’s Cathedral, and visited a WW2 experience  (all thanks to some Canadian visitors) but the best thing we’ve done so far this summer for me has involved Shakespeare.

As a reader, I have always loved Shakespeare for this witty plots, memorable phrases and interesting characters. As a writer, I can’t help but wonder: will my writing hundreds of years from now inspire millions? William Shakespeare, born over 400 years ago, and yet today his work lives on. That is a legacy that most writers will only dream of.

And the best part? Shakespeare is really accessible to everyone - it’s not just a high brow cultural event for intellects. For example, there is a great troup in Ontario that perform on any spot of grass they can find. Their creations are quite amusing and the night out is quite casual, just bring along a chair or blanket and you are set. They actually have a pay what you can afford policy. Check out their schedule online at http://www.driftwoodtheatre.com/BardsBusTour.htm.

It’s amazing that North Americans are so fascinated with plays that were written over 500 years ago. There are actually several other places to find Shakespeare in Ontario, from theatres to wineries. Henry of Pelham has a Shakespeare in the Vineyard every summer in Niagara and I just learned of Prescott’s www.stlawrenceshakespeare.ca.  Amazingly, there’s a site dedicated to helping people find local Shakespeare (http://www.shakespearefellowship.org/linksfestivals.htm) but it doesn’t seem to capture half of what is really being performed.

Still on my list of to do’s is Toronto’s Dream in High Park, Shakespeare in the Park. It’s described as an outdoor terraced theatre, which I imagine are grassy steps where you sit slightly elevated over the stage. Although I lived only 30 mins away I never made it to the park. The one time I tried to go there was with a date, a lawyer I met at an event in Toronto. Unfortunately he was about an hour late meeting me so we missed the show (clue number one as to why our relationship didn’t continue).

In the UK, the Stratford here has a Festival too. I visited the city but unfortunately the main theatre was under construction at the time (http://www.rsc.org.uk/). As you might expect, Shakespeare is found everywhere - from outdoor performances to theatres across England. Last week, we saw a very interesting take on the show at our local theatre in Richmond. Famous actor Simon Callow did a one man show called ‘Shakespeare’ where he narrated the great bard’s life story using passages from plays to bring to life Shakespeare’s life. It was absolutely brilliant.

And although there are several great Shakespearan experiences to be had both in Ontario and here in the UK. Top of my list is still Ontario’s Stratford Festival (http://www.stratfordfestival.ca/). Their performances are inspired - old english comes to life in a modern way. This year they are doing Kiss Me Kate, one of my favorites. I’ve been there at least a dozen times and I can’t wait to go again. They really bring Shakespeare to life in the present.

I don’t even begin to kid myself that my writing will ever amount to that much. Since it’s only here online, how will it ever survive?

I bid you adieu for now,

julie
Ps - Did you know London still has 8 buildings standing from when he was alive? The picture above is a typical building as constructed in the 1500’s. I did a walking tour once that took us to all of them. Amazing. www.londonwalks.com

Dear BA staff,

Please stop this madness. Since you have decided to strike my travel life has been hell. I have beed reduced to using second rate airlines in your place. I feel like we’ve broken up - what did I do wrong?

Perhaps this was your plan all along? Distance does indeed make the heart grow fonder. Since you’ve left me, I’ve suffered through some many humiliations.

On a personal trip to Italy I tried Easyjet. An ironic name surely? The check-in line from hell, the mad dash to pay a fee for checking my too big bag to carry on, uncivilised travellers with unsavoury smells, sloppy queues to board planes, stringent bag fitting into wire racks, unhelpful airport staff were not at all “easy”. The one shining star: great crew on board (BA! Hire these guys!!!). Total cost of the “cheap, no frills airline” to equal BA experience about £400 (BA would have cost less).

For work trips I have had to endure BMI. With their officious smugness offering me (a BA status holder) the same level status. I scoff at that as their Gold status hardly compares to BA silver. BMI offends me in their lounge with what they call “coffee”, they serve me nothing for free onboard and run their trolley into my arm, leg, foot whilst eagerly suffering folks pay for the pleasure of a small sip of water or coffee.

I miss Terminal 5, with it’s familiarly easy security checkins, the delightful BA lounge with coffee I can actually drink, online checkins that can be trusted. Please BA come back to work and solve this strife. I promise to never waiver again. I promise to appreciate the breakfast in the lounge, which if I skip will be offered to me again onboard.  I promise to sing your praises to all my colleagues and friends about your great fees because after all they do include luggage, beverages and the general treatment of my person in a reasonable way.

Missing you,
Julie

Ps - yes, I do spend way to much time at airports

I can’t believe it’s June already and we are halfway through the year. It feels like it was just New Year. Time might fly when you are having fun, but it really flies when you travel every weekend.

During the month of May I was in France, Scotland and Italy. I should just stop writing right now and just change this to pictures. But what fun would that be?

The month of travel began with personal holidays as I took almost a week’s holiday when my best mate Janine came for a visit. We spent a great week together exploring London and then heading out on a road trip to Paris. Too many great highlights to mention them all but maybe Janine will pick her highlights - will it be the Regent’s Canal? Pub lunch with the girls? Vimy? Paris? Versailles? I will remember to post pics on FB.

I do love the fact that it’s about a five hour drive to Paris door to door. This time we all stayed in one cosy room in the 19th arrondisement, which Mitch (my boyfriend for those not in the know yet) says that it’s a dodgy neighbourhood at night, but we stayed in an ubercool hotel there anyway (check it out at www.mamashelter.com).  The best part? The hotel was right next to Pere Lachaise cemetery. If you’ve not visited it, I highly recommend it if you get back to Paris. Amazing place.

The day Janine flew out, I beat her to the airport to take a flight up to Aberdeen for work. Later that week, Mitch flew up to meet me and we spent the weekend in Dufftown, Scotland in a cottage. The weather was absolutely glorious and we explored the fine countryside. Highlights were the weather, the peaceful countryside and dinner at Glenfiddich Distillery on Friday night with their award winning chefs (they used to just do lunch and just added dinner to the offering).

So back for about a week and then I was off to Italy with another mate of mine who is about to move out of London so this was her last easy access trip to Europe. We spent hours agonizing over where to go and finally decided on Sorrento, Italy. So my last weekend in May I spent exploring the fabulous Amalfi Coast and feasting on fabulous Italian food. Delicioso!

May was a great month, but gone before I knew it. Here’s hoping June slows down just a bit.

julie