Get Out of My Bed

I have come to realize that being a mom really means never being able to finish any plate of food you have fixed for yourself.  It means every time you pull your own hair up you must also do the same to two others.  It means never leaving your house in clean clothes again.  It essentially means you must share everything with your children. 

In most instances I am good with this, although I am often annoyed at not getting to eat my own dinner, and every hair accessory and scarf I own being stolen, but I deal.  However, I do not deal (at least not well) when it comes to my bed.

My husband and I first purchased a king sized bed a few years back prior to children.  At the time our 85lb lap dog insisted on sleeping in our double bed with us, and we were cramped.   We purchased our king bed and the dog still slept on me.  Not long after the dog was kicked out to his own bed because I really don't like sharing my bed. 

Truthfully, I find our king sized bed a touch small when my husband shares it with me.  He is a shift worker and when he is on nights it feels like just the right size for me, and only me. 

Soon after our oldest daughter arrived,  between lack of sleep and desperation (she would wake up 7 to nine times a night until nearly two) I allowed her to sleep with me at times.  Scratch that, not so much allowed her to; but more, was too exhausted to move her back to her own bed once she finally fell asleep.  Although she has not spent even close to a full night in my bed in a very long time, she still awakes most nights and comes into my room whining to sleep with me at about 4:00am.

Not letting her sleep with me has nothing to do with principal, or a lesson, or any views I have on co-sleeping.  I simply cannot let her sleep with me because I wake up resenting her.  She has got to be the worst person to share a bed with.  She does not lay still, she kicks,  she sucks her thumb and all around makes me miserable.  To top off this situation, if I insist she return to her own bed, the whining and crying begins as she is too tired to cope or realize the reality of how sleepy she is. 

This morning like many mornings I had my 4:00am visitor to my bedroom.  And this morning like many mornings I lost my marbles on her.  My husband was in bed next to be.  He does a much better job at dealing with these early morning visits and is able to sleep next to her without a problem.  So when she arrived in my room whining to sleep with me I told her to go to her daddy.  She argued and I told her to either get back to her bed or lay with her daddy or bad things would happen. 

She did crawl into our bed between the two of us and I warned her not to touch me.  When she started kicking me, rubbing her feet on my legs and sucking her thumb in my ear I could feel my blood nearly boil. 

I then got up, got ready for work, got her ready for school.  I did my hair, then her hair with my hair clips.  I made us all breakfast and she ate most of mine, even though it was the same as hers.  I walked out the door trying to wipe the sticky figure mess from my shirt, and it's fine because I can share all of these things- just not my bed!

Dad Envy

I want to be a dad.  They have a way better gig.   Everyone is continually complementing my husband on his fathering skills.  Don't get me wrong I do think he is pretty good; but, for the amount of praise he receives he should be offering "how to" classes. 

In today's society, it is my belief that in most two parent homes both parents work and are required to do so in order to live.  However, this has not always been the case.  In the past when many women were working in the home they became primary caregivers for children and thus dads were perhaps slightly less involved in day to day care-taking.  Fast forward to our present, and dad's no longer have a choice; they must have greater involvement in daily tasks as both parents are working outside the home.  However, older society members (boomers) who make up a large portion of our population are not exactly 100% used to this reality yet.

This is why I think it is a prime time to be a dad.  Things that my husband does with my children are praised; however, if I were to do the same, harsh judgement would be cast upon me.  Example, if a "dad" uses his sleeve to wipe a booger soaked face he is being resourceful; but, if a "mom" does the same she is so unprepared.

Since having children this double standard has been driving me crazy.  I cannot count the number of times that someone has said to me "wow, he is really good with your kids".  In the beginning I would just smile and say yeah even though secretly inside I was really annoyed by the comment.  Now my response is "I know, right? I thought he was going to be a dead beat too, but I thought hey what they hell, let's give it a try anyway".    Or sometimes I say "Yeah well they are his".  Clearly, before we had children and I married him I did give it some thought.   I mean really people!

Another annoying matter is the shock, then amazement, then approving smiles he gets once someone learns he has his own diaper bag.  Somehow, the bag is a symbol for people, correlating to the amount of involvement he has in our children's lives.  He did not want to carry the bag I chose, nor did I want to share the bag I knew I would be carrying for the next 3-4 years.  It is just a bag!  He takes our children out of our home and does not carry a purse, requires diapers & wipes and therefore has a vessel to put these items in.  Again, it is just a bag and it isn't even that nice of one.

All this aside, I do believe there is light at the end of this tunnel.  I believe that as time goes by expectations will be raised for dads as well.  In the future they will face the same sideways glazes that moms receive when brushing dirt off of our children's snacks and then handing it back to them.

But until that happens I want the "dad" job!

Lazy Moms use Diapers

I am often asked why my second child isn't using the potty yet.  I usually respond with "oh, she just is not ready".  I can see this translates to many people as, mom is just too lazy.   But when are they ready?  As in ready to use the potty.  This is the question we have been asking for nearly a year in our house. 

Our first was very typical and was diaper free just before 2 1/2 other than at night.  Everyone told me when they are ready it will be easy.  So we waited and when she was ready things went fairly smoothly.  Within the week of finishing with diapers we headed on a 10 hour car trip.  This is how we were introduced to assisting toddlers to pee in the wilderness.  It was a quick lesson after the first stop included her peeing all over my Uggs!

This one account led me to believe all the hype and offer the same advice of "When they are ready you will know and it will go fairly easy".  But what happens when you don't really want to wait that long?  When you are sick of changing toddler diapers and blow outs, when your child can tell you to change them and that they have pooped, when they can offer assistance in completing this dirty task; it is time to take action.

Clearly, their are many other parents like me.  A billion dollar industry exists marketing tools to make this task easier and more exciting.  I was offered a few different methods to try including placing them on the potty every 15 to 20 minutes, offering prizes or treats, & sticker charts.  

In the spring and summer, I had already tried just putting underpants on her out side and telling her to let me know when she needed to use the potty. A few accidents later I chalked it up to her not being ready and put a diaper back on her.  

I chose my next steps wisely.  This year she is signed up for dance class for the first time.  Although she is still a little young I was able to convince the instructor to let her into the class after she witnessed her meltdowns the previous year when she was forced to sit on the sidelines and watch her sister.  So I set the stage and informed her that the dance teacher said she couldn't wear a diaper under her dance clothes.  I told her that if she wanted to go to dance class she would have to use the potty and she agreed.

The stage was set, it was Friday night and potty training was to start the next morning.  I had decided on a multi-faceted approach.  I planned on having potty breaks every 15 to 20 minutes, and had gotten her her own potty.  Also I told her that every time she went on the potty we would blow up a ballon, and if she used the potty enough times we would have a party by the end of the day.  She agreed to these terms and seemed excited; I had hope that diaper free was in my sights.

This hope died when her first accident occurred shortly after a potty break while she was pretending to be a dog on the only area rug in our entire house.  I told her the rules of our agreement again, put new underpants on her and she seemed excited once more.  The hope dwindled further during her second accident on the same carpet while rolling around in blankets and pillows.  The hope was completely killed with the third accident on the same carpet within minutes of a potty break sitting in a puddle six inches from her potty.

Currently a week later she is back in diapers (one size up to try and prevent blow outs), and my carpet stinks even after being scrubbed multiple times with different cleaners.  I guess we will wait a little longer.  The next time I am asked "Is she still in diapers?", I am just going to respond "Yes, I am really lazy"!

Getting Schooled

September will never be the same.  Last Tuesday we sent our oldest child to her first day of school.  Preparation for this date began weeks and weeks ago.  Things I had not previously thought much about had now become very important.  It started with backpack and lunch bag choices.  My mother had mentioned to her that she remembered her mommy (me) taking a My Little Pony lunch pail for kindergarten which sparked discussions on what type of lunch bag she would like, and my worry began.

Although she stated that she too would like a My Little Pony lunch bag or Care Bears (still a huge fav in our house) I was hesitant.  I have heard terrible stories from other parents on the young age at which teasing can begin over superficial things.  Due to my worry I talked her into a generic pony patterned matching backpack and lunch bag.

Upon ordering these items online (we live close to no shopping) the option was presented to have the bags customized with your child's name embroidered on the back.  At first I was a sell, thinking how cute, and perfect something I won't have to put a name sticker on; but then fear.   Thankfully I didn't inform her of this choice and decided against it because I have watched too many Dateline episodes warning against this type of thing.

Next decision was the actual containers in which to place the packed lunch in.  I cannot convey the amount of time and energy I put into this.  Weeks of consideration and research with an end result of way to expensive containers being ordered.  Then the realization that due to my constant worry and procrastination they probably wouldn't be in on time, followed by purchasing plastic ones for under a $1.50 each from the grocery store. 

Surprise, the Friday prior they did arrive.  The day before her first day we talked about what to expect and what she wanted in her lunch.  We made strawberry mini muffins at her request and cheese crackers shaped into hearts (which she didn't like).  We assembled her lunch and practiced opening the containers, picked out clothes and were ready to rock for the morning of the first day. 

Then it was here, her first day.  We woke up, had breakfast and got dressed.  We snapped a couple of pictures in the yard and off she went to the bus stop with her entourage consisting of her sister, dog, dad and me in tow.  We waited for the bus giving our hugs and kisses before its arrival as not to embarrass her.  The bus arrived and our older neighbour took her under her wing and onto the bus even sitting with her (tear) and away they went. 

I was off to work, so only my husband got to greet her when she returned home.  That night I felt as though I was using my best interrogation tactics sprinkled in with some bribery on her but I am still unclear about all the events that took place on her first day.   I am sure I will never know and that sucks. 

Yesterday was her second day and she was still excited to go, so I guess it couldn't have been too bad.  We all survived the first day, and I understand that this is only the beginning of many more new starts.  September will never be the same.