Gracie Days

Back From The Brink.

A shivering pervaded my body, it felt as though someone had run over me with a tank and then reversed back over me again just to make sure I felt it! I looked down at the slippery human sucking furiously, my arms barely managing to hold her due to the shaking of adrenaline running under my skin. And with these huge black eyes she looked up at me as if begging me to forgive her entry. I did, my new little baby girl Ava Jeanne.

I think it was me who praised the wonderful experience of a natural home birth, well Gracie had been a breeze! The funny thing is I still do. Within hours of pushing out a posterior 7.14 baby after what can only be described as witnessing the black side of myself and for way too long, I was considering another. Well we have to have a boy! A funny thing happens to the human brain as one is undergoing a body malfunction. I remember my midwife talking with my traumatised mum and discussing the best way to transport me to hospital, Renee's words 'birth is not meant to be torture'  I became animal. I was one with the ancient apes or the wolves roaming the highlands of Scotland. Howling rhythmically with my husband looking down at me with deep pity as one would look at road kill before putting the poor thing out of its misery with a large rock,I might of asked for a large rock.I laugh now!

The truth is a huge part of Ava's labor was great, fun even. I know I'm weird. I had a handle on it, I was experienced, I had done this before.  As the waves came I dove into them and melted into the heat and pressure using deep balloon breaths with a huge smile on my face. And then as I got to 8 cm and didn't seem to be progressing much further I was confident I could push. The birth tub water cushioning me and offering huge relief and my husbands constant back attention prepared me and I went for it. Nothing. And again conjuring all the birthing women of the planet for support and with enough force to push out a baby elephant, Ava did not budge. In fact even my waters would not break.

With several expectant faces looking at me from around the tub and morning creeping in think I may have even apologized. Houston we may have a problem. But there is something interesting about going down a tunnel of 'oh shit' and an even more curious one of pain tolerance. For all the expectant mothers out there please do not let this put you off, well its too late to back out now! Sorry that was uncalled for. Birth is incredible which ever way you experience it and Gracie was the perfect birth. With Ava, things just got a little complicated.

I knew that this baby was meant to come into the world this way because frankly I hadn't given her enough attention, it was all about Gracie. My first and 15 month old. This was a wake up call. Ava was letting me know she needed some serious attention and as I rode the contraction train I asked her to give me a break and that I would pay some serious attention to her and give her love she deserved. I imagined holding her in my arms and lifting her up for a kiss. And with that she came. Well with a lot of help and a whole heap of muscle from my midwife who took over and literally pulled her out.

You'd think I'd be mad at Ava for all that drama, but no. And this is where I lose all my readers, well the parents at least. Ava has slept through the night since she was born, not a peep. So ask if me if I'd rather sacrifice 9 hours of back labor or a 9 weeks of sleep and more, I'll choose the sleep any day!

Big Girl In Big Truck.

It was my fiction class on Wednesday night and my husband was out of town. Usually he drives me and picks me up from class, only this time I thought I could handle it on my own. I should mention something, we sold our BMW ( not economy friendly)  and all we have is Matthews massive black chevy work truck. Its a beast! 

My class is in Haight in residential San Francisco and my class starts at 7.30 prompt. I figured I'd get there an hour early, find a space and sit and study for class- I was late with my homework. Easy.

PIcture an 32 week pregnant lady behind wheel of Kick Ass Black Truck, it measures the length of two elephants, not to mention the elephant behind the wheel. A recipe for disaster? Hell no!

I drive around and around, the light really fading, negotiating pedestrians and small dogs and lamp posts and one way streets and hills. DId I mention those damn hills? It was a joke.

Forty five mins I drove in circles trying to squeeze my truck 'ass' into ridiculous space after another. It reminded me of Gracie who's thirteen months struggling to fit a triangle block into a circle hole. 'Honey? It ain't going to happen'. But still I tried, in front of bus queues of people laughing and in front of restaurants with faces pressed to the glass. I eventually found a spot I was already 10 minutes late and I didn't care. I am stubborn, I refuse to give up. I waddle up the 3 flights of stairs and a cup of calmomile tea later I felt the victory surge inside me. 'I did It'

Half an hour later, while doing a dialogue exercise, I ponder on just how easy that last space was. It was right down the street from class and I had been driving all over. I mentioned it to my teacher. 'Its not in front of the fire hydrant on Oak, is it?' she looked at me with pity.

'Fire Hydrant? We don't have them in Britain? What stupid rule is that?!!' I said my goodbyes and ran to the truck narrowly escaping a towing and pulled myself up into the seat ( there's no stepladder- a design fault)

I drove home cursing the stupid truck and let my nanny go home early and put myself to bed at 9 30. My hormones raging. I settled after an hour and after my husbands apologies and the promise of a family car before baby no 2 arrives. Hey at least you got out of your homework' he replied happily. He had a point.

My Dairy Free Baby

When I was younger, I never really thought about what I ate. I thought I ate healthy and avoided fried food and too many sweet things. Of course there was always a treat such as a cream cake on the way home from school.  I kept it quiet, however, so my mother wouldn’t find out and I always ate my dinner. She could never tell, I was as skinny as a rake and had such a huge appetite. 

 My mother was a home economics teacher and my father worked for local government, they consumed food on a budget were very conscientious and loving parents. They raised my brother and I on a well balanced diet and they did a phenomenal job. 

 

Its only recently that I think about what I eat and drink. This change in me was partly due to a Tony Robbins seminar I attended, where I met my husband, Matthew. On the last day TR posed some interesting facts on milk, such as the cholesterol, calories, saturated fats and sugars found in dairy. He was fairly radical in his suggestion that humans were never intended to consume animal milk. Now, wether you believe this or not, it started me thinking and seeking out new information on the subject.

I discovered there is a relation to allergies such as asthma and cows milk. There are also studies which suggest that there is a link between the consumption of animal protein and high animal calcium protein with major degenerative diseases. Even cancer sufferers are advised to eat mostly foods from plant sources. Naturally the dairy companies have reason to contest these findings and its true milk contains essential nutrients but these nutrients can also be found in other foods, with none of the fats and pasteurization process.

 I had grown up believing milk was good for you. I was told that cows milk was essential for your weaned baby. I became pregnant soon after meeting my husband and now I found myself forced to think about the dairy I consumed. My husband didn’t drink milk, he’s Californian and a peppermint tea drinker. For me it was much harder, I am a Scottish lass and my beverage of choice is a builders tea with full fat milk and sugar! 

When Gracie came into my life I changed the way I approached dairy. It was a struggle and I clung on to my beliefs, I wanted to prove my husband wrong. Partly because I loved the taste of dairy products. Yet, I noticed that my babies behavior would change according to the foods I put in my body. Not only did Gracie feel a difference, I did too. 

I cut out the full fat cheese I was craving and my heartburn stopped. Gracie would start squirming happily again., I cut out the de-caff latte with half fat milk, Gracie’s colic would disappear and she slept happily. There was no coincidence, it was as plain as day. Milk was a factor and Gracie was telling me so.

It was a struggle to cut out dairy while Gracie was so young, this was only because I wasn’t aware of the alternatives to both nutrition and taste. I  wished there was a website dedicated to raising your baby dairy free.  It would have cut out the trawling through books and searching various sites on the internet to find a healthy, delicious, dairy free lifestyle for my baby.

This gave me inspiration for a website and a recipe book of which I am working on. I am thrilled about what I have discovered about foods and the delicious alternatives to dairy products. There are literally thousands of products and its easy. It excites me when I discover more and more delicious recipes. Gracie is a very happy and slightly tubby baby, which makes me more happy than I can say.  She is my dairy free baby. She is vibrant, healthy and rich in all the essential nutrients she needs and more! I want to share my recipes and knowledge with you. So welcome to mydairyfreebaby blog soon to go live as a website. I will keep you posted.  

http://graciedays.typepad.com/mydairyfreebaby/

RUTH MILLAR: I was set for Hollywood stardom... until I forgot my lines and turned into Nora Batty

http://www.mailonsunday.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1240074/RUTH-MILLAR-I-set-Hollywood-stardom--I-forgot-lines-turned-Nora-Batty.html

Everything's tickety boo....... but wait.

Twenty four hours ahead of Christmas day I had everything just tickety boo. Gracie's stocking was stuffed to overflowing with one dollar items from the Japanese store, from a fan in the shape of a watermelon to multi colored rice scoops for her miniature kitchen, There was a cute pink lunch box with a pink strap and baby chopsticks to crayons and coloring in books, I announced to my husband, while finishing a little note to my daughter from Santa. 'I am feeling pretty smug I can tell you.' He smiled proudly.

I then defrosted my giant ten pound turkey, ridiculous for the two of us seeing Gracie is a vegetarian. Yes, yes I know. Blame her Daddy and Tony Robbins for that one. It was then that I felt a disturbance in my tummy. Its nothing, I thought. I'm pregnant, must be junior larking around in there.

 I looked for something else to do. The laundry was folded and the kitchen all sparkly. Our Christmas tree, despite its ridiculous bend, that made the fairy appear like it was bungying to the floor. And the distinct lack of ornaments on the left side, the side accessible to our 1 year old, looked quite appealing in a comical way. Everything was set for a perfect first Christmas as a family.

Another stir, then another, then an 'Oh My God I have to.................' I raced to the bathroom before a disaster had occurred all over my daughters clean pressed onesies. My husband raced in and then immediately raced out again with an ' Are you okay sweetie?...... Ooooooohhh... I'll just be out here with Gracie if you need me.' Wimp.

I don't remember much of the following 24 hours except for staring at the ceiling and re-coiling on my bed asking why, of all days in the year,  do I have to get sick on Christmas. I am never sick. Okay, I fake sick, naturally, to get out of running to the store in the rain for salsa chips and taking out the recycling in minus zero conditions. But I am never actually sick. 

I eventually sleep and wake just in time to prepare a half hearted Christmas dinner, groaning and sitting on the kitchen floor occasionally, with my daughter way too excited with her plastic pink rice scoop. The turkey is dry and we eat 4 slices, my lavish cranberry, almond and brandy stuffing is distinctly lacking the main ingredient of 'stuffing mix' ( well I thought it meant herbs). Its bread less, looks like a goo, my husband burying it deep into his potatoes possibly to disguise the taste.

I give up by four and take to my bed to watch 'Hangover' with Gracie and my husband, We laugh at the trail of destruction. There is always next year.....

Domestic Goddess, Not!

On Sunday my daughter turned one and determined to mimic the ultimate domestic goddess Nigella Lawson I set forth to make my first cake. I mean how hard could it be? Well, 'very hard' my husband subtly announced as he attempted to carry the brick 'his words' from our kitchen to the living room his legs giving out underneath him while singing Happy Birthday in front of all our guests. He then lay on the floor laughing so hard the rest of our family following suit. Lucky for me my mother who had left the week before from a long stay, had prepared a cheese cake 'just in case' which everyone devoured licking their lips. I blame my mother she didn't teach me well.  

Gracie had a ball she no idea what was going on but revelling in all the attention. In the midst of the party and at the exact moment she had everyones attention she got up and walked clear across the room! I fear she is just like her mother and a born actress, heaven help us all. She has been walking ever since and has me in a panic every time she runs for the kitchen and our heavy concrete floor shouting 'na na's!' Gracies word for anything that is food or juice, derivative from 'banana'

Meanwhile I write on my Gracie days off, only two days a week but precious every one. I got my first commission, a piece for a Sunday paper the photographer flying in from sunny LA tom to shoot me in foggy SF. Somehow it should be the other way round, but it will make the piece nice and moody only its meant to be light and sunny! I finish this as the sun is setting over the ocean and I head back to my daughter and her squeals and the latest episode of Flash Forward. Thank you mum I'm hooked!

A damn good day!

I strutted, yes strutted down Grant Street today in three inch heels to my agents office four floors up a beautiful early nineteenth century building feeling free. It is the third week with my nanny looking after Gracie (only two days a week) and this is the first time I actually had a good excuse to pull on my skinniest black jeans and dust off my ankle boots and head into town for a meeting. Dropping my mother off at Pier 33, she was off to explore Alcatraz, I tore through the streets music blaring, Foo Fighters fitting the mood and attacking the steep hills I arrive in Union Square. Walking the short distance to my agents I almost feel a pang of guilt for leaving Gracie at home, pathetic really, truthfully I feel fantastic! Its incredible how just one or two days off a week can bring about a change in a mothers psyche, freedom!

I practically sung my script into the mic and in about three takes I was done. Skipping down the street a quick stop in Betsy Johnson to buy a cute grey Pom Pom hat ( well it was cold!) a coffee in Starbucks and that was that. That was all that was needed, one afternoon to feel me again. I collect my mother who had tales of a Solitaire Bridge game inspired by one of the prisoners and I was yearning for my daughters high pitched squeal of excitement to see her mummy, a damn good day.

 to feel guilty then decided to feel fantastic instead. I rea

The Night Before Thanksgiving

Its the night before Thanksgiving and I am rallying around friends and family to do our yearly food drop onto the streets of San Francisco. My husband was the one who started it and its really caught on. I was 8 months pregnant last year with Gracie and this year is no different I can't believe I am 5 months pregnant again and its only a year later! We'll bundle Gracie up in the truck and brother Rick and my husband can do all the heavy lifting. My sister-in-law, my mother and our good friend Rosa will handle the drops. The Tenderloin is an obvious place to go but its usually covered by various organizations so we head down the back streets and look for the people who are living under the bridges and side streets of the Financial district and down by the Wharf. Occasionally we come across some guys who are verbally abusive usually loaded but its few and far between on the whole the day is quite remarkable. I met some cool characters the last time who sung me rhymes and told fantastical and sometimes tragic stories, we found a couple of pregnant women who were ready to give birth any day and believe me that shed new light on my own situation. We gave out our food bags and as the day came to a close and the sun set we cruised back over 280 exhausted but alive with the people we met. Tom we are set to make a new record on the amount of food we drop and however small in comparison to the no of people living on the streets we hope it will help a little. 

For All To Witness.

I felt my second baby at 12 weeks. This might seem ridiculous to some. No matter. I felt a definite whoosh it felt like a somersault! Then nothing for weeks. I was hesitant at first to believe, then after some negotiation on my behalf and some furious internet searching for similar stories I settled on the notion that yes I had indeed felt my babies first movements. 

Gracie had been different she was my first child and I had no idea what I was looking for, feeling for, you get the gist. It wasn't until my 18th week did I feel a distinguishable kick. I remember it vividly washing dishes by the kitchen sink occasionaly looking out the window for the naked man and his weekly jump into his hot tub. He had been elusive for weeks now, almost as elusive as my growing baby. But here and now she made her presence known by a karate kick to my groin and naturally I squealed with delight. 

It is a wild and far out concept to imagine the world in there. The sounds, the noises and that feeling of weightlessness. Its hard to comprehend the alarm felt by our little spacemen when leaving that cocoon like environment to this loud and clanky world. I don't know if my second baby is a boy or a girl. I knew instinctively with Gracie. I knew her name, I knew her intimately. I had talked to her for years. I had wanted her for years. My daughter Grace Sophia. This baby? I have no idea? Who are you little one? I feel I have not been giving you enough attention or consideration. My little girl fills all my time and my heart knows only how to love her. You came into being when Gracie was only 6 months old and it has taken me until now for me to fully accept your presence. Please don't be offended, you came to me by surprise! Let this be a lesson to everyone and yes I am the but of jokes amongst my friends and family. But you are here my little one and I promise to pay more attention. In fact I make this my promise to you. I promise to give you 25 minutes every day to send you love like I did Gracie when she was yet to be born. I will listen to the Devi prayer and meditate on you and only you. I make this my promise for all to witness.

via graciedays.typepad.com

I felt my second baby at 12 weeks. This might seem ridiculous to some. No matter. I felt a definite whoosh it felt like a somersault! Then nothing for weeks. I was hesitant at first to believe, then after some negotiation on my behalf and some furious internet searching for similar stories I settled on the notion that yes I had indeed felt my babies first movements. 

Gracie had been different she was my first child and I had no idea what I was looking for, feeling for, you get the gist. It wasn't until my 18th week did I feel a distinguishable kick. I remember it vividly washing dishes by the kitchen sink occasionaly looking out the window for the naked man and his weekly jump into his hot tub. He had been elusive for weeks now, almost as elusive as my growing baby. But here and now she made her presence known by a karate kick to my groin and naturally I squealed with delight. 

It is a wild and far out concept to imagine the world in there. The sounds, the noises and that feeling of weightlessness. Its hard to comprehend the alarm felt by our little spacemen when leaving that cocoon like environment to this loud and clanky world. I don't know if my second baby is a boy or a girl. I knew instinctively with Gracie. I knew her name, I knew her intimately. I had talked to her for years. I had wanted her for years. My daughter Grace Sophia. This baby? I have no idea? Who are you little one? I feel I have not been giving you enough attention or consideration. My little girl fills all my time and my heart knows only how to love her. You came into being when Gracie was only 6 months old and it has taken me until now for me to fully accept your presence. Please don't be offended, you came to me by surprise! Let this be a lesson to everyone and yes I am the but of jokes amongst my friends and family. But you are here my little one and I promise to pay more attention. In fact I make this my promise to you. I promise to give you 25 minutes every day to send you love like I did Gracie when she was yet to be born. I will listen to the Devi prayer and meditate on you and only you. I make this my promise for all to witness.

Baby Jet Lag

Gracie awakes with her familiar dramatic cry like the world is falling in at 5 30 am. She is 11 months old and doesn't sleep through the night. My fault as I have dragged her around the globe from the moment she was legally allowed to fly. At 3 months a stint in Hollywood as her mother attempted to land a hit role in a TV series during pilot week in March. My husband very accommodating and supportive obviously clearly unaware of the sheer number of actresses descending on the city for a mere handful of jobs. My husband is a business man and wonderfully naive about the acting culture. He thinks its easy. Its not. 

London has been the other destination for the globe trotting Gracie at 5 months, then 10. Her mother using her family as wonderful excuse to tread the boards again. I don't mean to sound defeatist I promise I'm not but I wonder if motherhood has stripped me of hiring potential? Am I coming across too desperate? Do the milk stains seeping through my blouse give me away? Is it perhaps the fact that I am thinking of Gracie waiting for her mummy to finish being silly and come back to her and get on with it?

All of this crosses my mind as I stumble down the stairs to my beautiful little girl all rubbing of eyes and hungry animal cries. She looks like a scruffy mammal all brown hair and fists. I scoop her up and smell her in assuring her we are home now and mummy will stop being silly and concentrate on being a mummy for a wee while... till the next one is born in a matter of months.... Oh did I mention that?