How was your day?

"How was your day?" asked my husband as we kind of ask each other every night.

Well this women called me today because she was like really super angry with me.  Which I get, because I had to tell her some stuff that wasn't really what she wanted hear the other day.  So she called me to yell at me, and whilst in the midst of yelling at me, she was all like "Can you hold, I have another call" and I went to answer NO but she just put me on hold, so I hung up.  Then I went to lunch and when I came back she had left me two messages asking why I would ended the call as our conversation clearly was NOT over and she told me she had another call.

An then I got home and the kids wanted to go in the hot tub and they were covered in ice cream because we went out for ice cream, and I didn't really want to bath them so I said yes.  So while they were in the hot tub,  I was eating their Easter chocolate and I heard them fighting.  So I went to see what they were fighting about.  Turns out they were fighting over bubbles in the hot tub, which is really just a clear indicator that it is super dirty and the water should be changed.  So I went back to eating their chocolate but they kept fighting so I made them get out which kind of sucked because I didn't really have anything else planned for the night, and I also had to put the rest of the chocolate back.

After that I bribed them to go to sleep and stop talking.  

So you know the usual.  

Then I asked him "how was your day"?

"Good", he said.

Feeding Frenzie

Someone must be able to relate.  I am continually hearing from my friends about their children being picky eaters.  How they will only eat certain foods and that they struggle to make sure they are getting enough everyday let alone a balanced diet.

Well in my  house we seem to suffer from the opposite problem.  My husband and I both love food and cooking.  I have a strong belief in eating whole food and trying new things; this typically means we don't eat much in the way of pre-prepared meals.  Our children are not picky eaters at all and usually are up for trying just about anything.  In fact my oldest convinced me to try tofu noodles the other day that I was unsure about and we all ended up enjoying them.   My youngest's favourite food is roasted brussel sprouts.  The other day after a much awaited trip by them to MacDonald's due to the toy appearing in the happy meals this month my oldest ordered a chicken caesar salad with water (which means I got a happy meal so we would have two toys!).

Now don't get me wrong I think it is fantastic that our girls are adventurous eaters.  They bring pumpkin ravioli and gumbo with chorizo in their lunches and its great.

The thing is, they love food.  The problem is, they love food.

From the time they began eating I have been surprised by the amount they can pack away.  I find myself saying daily "You don't have to eat all the food today!"  and "Don't worry we will have it again another time.".  When I tell my friends their normal replies are either " You're so lucky" or "I wish".

In  a way they may be right.  I can't imagine continually having to fight with them to get them to eat or try new things.  That would be awful; however, what we have is not the greatest.  I feel like I have to cut them off from thirds or fourths on a regular basis.  In my group of friends this does not appear to happen with them.

When they were little and we would head to play group after they had already eaten two breakfasts to start they day.  They person running the program would announce that it would soon be snack time and therefore you should clean up and wash your hands.  Some children were too busy playing to be bothered to stop and eat.  My two however always had their toys tidied, hands washed and were sitting nicely at the table ready to dig in in the blink of an eye.  I remember cutting them off after their third helping and feeling people's eyes burning into me as I tried to explain that they really had already eaten A LOT that day.  I felt as though I was reciting "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" trying to explain what they had already downed!  I'm sure there must have been much chatter about my poor unfed children.  Little did they know that  they were actually eating me out of house and home!

I have to believe that someone else must be able to relate!

Our 12 Days of Christmas

Another Christmas season has past in a blur.  Every year I feel as though our family along with everyone else is trying to pack there months of activities into December.  This year although not the most popular decision I decided that we were not going to do everything.  With that being said we still did way too much.  I thought I would take this time to share our families last twelve days prior to Christmas this year.

Counting backwards this begins on December 14th.
Jingle Day at my girls school.  As per the usual I totally forgot about the fact that everyday during the last week of school is designated with something special to wear until the last minute.  What every happened to just plain old and red & green day?  So what does when wear for Jingle Day?  Well dollar store bells tied in your hair of coarse.

December 15th
If memory serves me correct this was Christmas hat and sock day?  Also this was the night they had planned a Christmas play at the school.  All went relatively well except for our youngest being "that child" but that seems to happen often.

December 16th
Glitter day. That's right Glitter Day.  Enough said.

December 17th
Ugly Christmas sweater day and a turkey dinner.  Thankfully this means at least I didn't have to pack them lunches.  This also means a last minute shopping for an ugly sweater with no luck.  Apparently they were big sellers and were all sold out.  In the end they wore Christmas pyjama tops that someone else bought for them.

December 18th
Last day of school followed by a late night dress rehearsal.  Because the group they dance with must complete a dress rehearsal and it must be completed in the same order as the show (Silly suggestion to go youngest to oldest).  The dress rehearsals are guaranteed to be running late and typically we don't arrive home till nearly 10:00pm.  Of coarse by this time they are overtired and angry.  By the end of our 45minutes drive they were both in tears and toys had been taken away for upwards of the next three months.

December 19th
Christmas dance show.  Yes after the rehearsal is the show.  Back at the stage in full costume and make-up with a full 14hours between leaving the rehearsal.

December 20th
Way too wired children off of school nearly a full week before Christmas.  By this time they are already exhausted and don't even realize it and I am way too exhausted and do realize it.

December 21st
Start and finish Christmas Shopping praying the shelves aren't cleared.  Success!

December 22nd
Late night wrapping party for one including wine.

December 23rd
First puking child, but at least it's before Christmas.

December 24th
Unwrapping gifts to find one particular one and rewrap it in "Santa Paper".  All this because I found out that my mom purchased gifts that only Santa can make late night Christmas Eve.

December 25th
Second puking child

Upon reflection the only magical thing about Christmas is that we all make it through each year and actually look forward to it again the following year!

Babies are Thieves

Okay it has been awhile.  I mean like almost two years.  Turns out full time work and two young ones doesn't leave much time for anything else.  But school has started and they are both attending!  Jobs have changed and I am part time now and therefore back at writing about our lives from time to time.

I have been intending to write about this for awhile; however, like most things with me intentions and actions are two very different things.  I mean really, if things were based on intentions I should be accepting my Nobel peace prize any day now.  But I digress as this is another subject for another day.

Today is about mortality and immortality.  You know a pretty light subject to kick things off.  Prior to having children it was something that never crossed my mind.   But now....

Now I have learned what it means because I have lost mine.

A lesson I have only learned since having my children.  Before children I was invincible.  I never thought about what I could wrong, if someone could get hurt.  I may have even classified myself a bit of a risk-taker.  I remember distinctly thinking it odd when hearing others express concern about most things: flying, motorcycles, foreign travel. All of these things seemed like great adventures and experiences.  In fact if you were planning any type of adventure, I was your girl. White water rafting; I'm in.  Sky diving; for sure.  Traveling anywhere; definitely.

But now, how times have changed.  When looking  to  take a vacation prior to having children I would have typed something like “best places in the world to white water raft” into Google and based my holiday planning on the results I found.  Last year while booking a holiday my first search entered into Google was something along the lines of “safest destinations for children”.  I have gone from arriving home from a weekend away at 6:00am on Monday morning and forgoing any sleep to shower and just show up for work; to barely making it to double digits most nights and being concerned of how lack of sleep is affecting me.  I had a full on decision with my spouse about the need to have a least two more first aid kits in our procession the other night.  I have begun to carry weird items in my bag just to be prepared and I even got a flu shot this year, just in case.  

This cautious behaviour is still somewhat surprising to me and every now and then I recognize it creeping in.  Like when I was watching them sled down a small hill in our area.  I mean really small like run up and down it 10 times and not hardly be out of breathe small.  I caught myself thinking “maybe  I should purchase helmets for this activity”.  It still blows my mind that I am responsible for other human lives.  I mean, I barely function to take care of myself on some days.  

Some people has tried to convince me that this is really about accepting responsibility as I get older; however, I stand by my original thought that my children have simply stolen my mortality from me at birth.
x

Save Your Sanity; Lower Your Standards

My husband often refers to me as hurricane as I whirl around trying to get things accomplished causing a path of mess in my route which then adds to the stress I am already creating.  My children are my two tornados, which is kind of self explanatory.  I, have hit hurricane status because of water involvement in my past messes.  So, as you can imagine a house of two tornados and a hurricane can sometimes lead to disaster.  

Each year my stress over the holidays begins to rise in November and peak just before Christmas.  I spend way too much time making lists and trying to do too many things in too short of time.  Honestly, it is a bit of a speciality for me though out the year but, is really apparent during the holiday season.  I always think I can accomplish 4 hours of realistic work into a 45 minute span, then am really disappointed when I don't get everything completed that I had hoped to.

Between my two maternity leaves; the amount of holidays I had upon my first return from maternity leave, and a job share that only ended about six months ago I have not had to work full time during the Christmas season since 2008.  I understand that for most people working full time during the holidays is the norm but it is not mine any longer and I did not adjust well.  In my head I believe I can do all the things that I did when I worked only half the amount of hours outside the home.  However, in reality I have to sleep each night so this is not really possible.

The following is a list of what I had wanted to complete in December 2013 with my family on top of the regularly scheduled activities we are involved in:

Completely finish and furnish dollhouse that was set to arrive on Dec 15th (by furnish I mean me making all the furniture)

Make sugar cookies and decorate them with kids

Do holiday baking for neighbours

Make gingerbread house of our house

Decorate inside and outside of house for Christmas

Go get Christmas tree from tree farm and decorate it

Take kids shopping for husbands gift and gifts for each other

Make an advent calendar

Make special Hors d'oeuvres for Christmas Eve

Go Skating weekly

Go to Santa Claus Parade

Go to See Santa Claus

Buy and wrap gifts for everyone on my list

Volunteer for Dance Recital

Host boxing day dinner

Assist husband grandmother with setting up for Christmas Dinner 

Go away for a night with husband

Attend special Christmas Craft days at the Library

Attend husbands work party

Attend and bring food to family Christmas 

Host a Family Christmas

Even when I look a the list I have crated it seems doable.  I know that most people probably have a similar one; but, I am here to say it is not doable.  At least not for me and my family.  This is how our list actually looked after December

Completed

Decorate inside and outside of house for Christmas

Go get Christmas tree from tree farm and decorate it

Buy and wrap gifts for everyone on my list

Volunteer for Dance Recital

Host boxing day dinner

Go away for a night with husband

Attend husbands work party

Attend and bring food to family Christmas

Host a family Christmas

Not Completed

Completely finish and furnish dollhouse that was set to arrive on Dec 15th (by furnish I mean me making all the furniture)- this got partially finished and I am still working on it

Make sugar cookies and decorate them with kids- nope, but they did decorate cookies at a party

Do holiday baking for neighbours- yes, but not as much as I had planned

Make gingerbread house of our house - this is when things started to get bad!

Take kids shopping for husbands gift and gifts for each other - nope, did this alone

Make an advent calendar - nope

Make special Hors d'oeuvres for Christmas Eve - nope, bought boxed ones

Go Skating weekly - nope

Go to 2 Santa Claus Parades -  nope, we made it to one

Go to See Santa Claus - nope, they did see him at a party

Assist husband grandmother with setting up for Christmas Dinner - not as much as I had planned

Attend special Christmas Craft days at the Library - yes, but late both times

Everything came to ahead over gingerbread.  I had made the gingerbread dough around the 12th of December and stuck it in the fridge to cut out and bake later.   This was already much later then I had intended but due to time restraints I was just trying to fit it in.  The dough sat in the fridge for over a week.  Finally one day I asked my husband who was going to be home with the kids for the day to bake the gingerbread houses.  I know what people are thinking here and yes not only  did I expect him to bake gingerbread houses but I expected him to create a fabulous gingerbread replica of our house that I could assemble and decorate with our kids when I got home.  And yes, I do know in hindsight that this is crazy, but at the time this was my expectation.  When I got home that night to find he did bake the gingerbread houses, but not as I would have hoped ( he baked 5 rectangles each  for each child to have a house with a flat roof) I was less than happy.  I stayed up late trying to carve more house looking shapes with a serrated knife out of the rectangles, then my husband and I moved out to the garage to work on painting, adding window, and shingling the dollhouse.

At about 11 that night he said to me "You have got to lower your standards" and as much as I hated to admit it he was absolutely right.  After that night lots of things got scratched from our list.  I bought boxed Hors d'oeuvres for Christmas Eve, although this may seem like a normal thing for me that was equivalent to me waving a huge white flag, screaming I give.

We then moved onto New Years which may be my favourite time of the year.  Christmas is over and I feel like it is a fresh start each year.  I know most people think resolutions are stupid and people never follow though.  Not surprisingly, I love them.  Last year I reined in my caffein addiction going from upwards of two pots of coffee a day to two in the morning and leeway for one more in the afternoon if really needed.  I went over my new limit a handful of times throughout the year; but, clearly a vast improvement from the couple of pots I was downing daily in 2012.  

So, Cheers to moving forward into 2014, this years goal is to ditch artificial sweeteners.  So far it sucks and I miss Mio -squirt, squirt, squirt.

Food for Thought

Lately I have noticed that my second child, the one I often refer to as "passionate" because it sounds a little less harsh then spastic is particularly "passionate" about her food.  I don't mean that she is being a picky eater, but seems to have strong opinions about how her food is presented to her. 

Sometimes she gets upset if she doesn't have the plate she anticipated getting, or the fork, or the cup, or she has a spoon and wanted a fork, or whatever.   Usually she resolves the frustration she is experiencing by throwing a fit and rolling on the floor while the rest of us carry on with our meal.  Heartless I am, and often hear myself quoting "Pinkalicous" saying "You get what you get".  Other times I give in and tell her to pick the items that she was hoping for, really just depends on the day. 

This has been one of her traits for some time now.  More recently she has begun to get very upset if the actual food on the plate is not presented as she would anticipate.  For example if she wanted a sandwich cut into squares and without thinking I cut it into triangles.  The biggest issue with this problem is that she already could be one of the most indecisive individuals ever.  She says she wants bread in triangles, then squares, then triangles.  So you go with triangles, hand her the plate and she melts because they are not squares.

Recently I took a picture of her while in the midst of one of her fits to show my husband as he had missed it.  She had gone bat sh*t  crazy because I had cut her spaghetti after she had asked me to.  She was unable to eat it long because she cannot twirl noodles on her own.  She would not allow someone to assist her in twirling noodles, thus she wanted it cut.  After it was cut she realized that it was no longer twirlable and lost it.

This instance was pretty funny due to her dramatic response and the epic fit that followed and therefore picture worthy.   Because I possessed the picture, it then became a topic of conversation between me and friends of mine who also have small children.  Friends indicated they attempted to pinch the bread on sandwiches back together to create the desired shape. Others shared trying to stack items into certain shapes or hide food underneath other food all in attempt to satisfy their child.  One girl explained to me that she spent about 10 minutes trying to mush a hamburger patty back together because she thought it would work because her child decided that she did not want it in pieces any longer.

At the very least sharing my photo and story with others has taught me that  I am not alone, and that we all attempt the impossible of putting food back together in some crazy manor.   Please feel free to share some of your own crazy reconstructing moments!

I Wish Someone Told Me

Recently while at a baby shower for a friend of mine I was asked to write down a piece of advice for the mom to be.  I wrote the following:

We all know nothing in the beginning.
We learn as we go.
Everything you think you know is probably wrong.
Best of luck!

This exercise got me thinking a little bit about the few things I did learn about labour & delivery, postpartum, and life after with a baby.  So in honour of my many pregger friends at this time here is a few things I do know, now.

Labour & Delivery
This is way messier then you can ever imagine

After you deliver your baby your body goes into shock as you have been through a major trauma including full out body shakes and shivers.  At this point the nurses will be your best buds piling warm blankets fresh out of the oven onto you and you will love them for it

Post Partum
Although some people's body's bounce back not everybody's does.  I was told that you will still look pregnant when you leave the hospital and I was prepared for that.  I was not prepared to always have an apron of excess skin hanging over my abominate area.  I was never super fit or thin but this was still shocking to me and very upsetting.  I was always the type of person thinking I would age naturally and would not choose plastic surgery; however, now I would be first in line for a mommy makeover.

Not everyone likes their baby instantly.  I loved them but I certainly did not like them until they were about 14 months old.  Life can feel a lot like groundhog day, doing the same tasks day in and day out.  Don't feel inadequate or like you are a bad person for not being over the moon about the baby stage if it isn't necessarily your thing.  I believe everyone has an age that they excel at dealing with.  Unfortunately I think I might currently be in mine which mean things may only go downhill from here.

Life After with your Baby
Your baby is not the same as anyone else's baby and so you need to learn the things that your baby likes and techniques that will work on your baby.

Nothing lasts; just when you think you get things figured out they change.  This is also true for the not so nice phases and none sleeping as well.

Hand warmers work fantastic to warm bottles on the go.

Adopt your new uniform: skinny pants with full tummy coverage; flat slip on shoes that easily go on and off without bending; short or long sleeved t-shirt with scoop neck for easy access if you are breast feeding; scarf to hide stains on said shirt, hide possible uncomfortable cleavage, and wipe  up baby puke; and lastly, a cardigan with pockets to throw pacifiers or whatever in.  The cardigan also works  wonderful to turn around and wear backwards if you are breastfeeding as a cover, when you do forget the expensive actual cover you bought.

So this is it; about all I do know and I hope it is helpful to all I know that will soon be expecting

Defeating Trick or Treating

Last night marked the first successful trick or treating experience in our home.  It also marked the 5th attempt at trick or treating.  Our first three years of trick or treating we actually did in the afternoon to our four neighbours and just went by for visits, so they were fairly uneventful to be perfectly honest. 

Last year was our families' first attempt at evening trick or treating like most other people do.  My husband was on nights and I decided I would attempt to take them out alone.   After work I got home and shoved a quick dinner in front of them.  I got them dressed, which was a huge fight because apparently they no longer wished to wear the costumes they initially chose.  We were out the door at about 6:40pm.  We walked through our yard, and across the road to the neighbours; one kid on each arm with the dog being dragged along behind.  About three steps into our neighbour's yard the younger child decided she wanted to be picked up, so of course then, the older one wanted to be picked up.  Now I had one child on each hip and was dragging the dog behind me.  I attempted to have them walk up to the door to say "trick or treat".  I set them down and the trouble began.

They used the divide and conquer method against me and ran in opposite directions.  I used my best Border Collie abilities to herd them towards the porch of our neighbour's house.  They finally got to the door and were greeted by our neighbour.  She gave them each a bag of candy causing more issues to arise.  Both girls then wanted to eat the candy at precisely that moment and could not fathom the thought that they would have to wait until trick or treating was over.  They both melted in her yard and began rolling around in the grass crying that they really wanted the candy.  It was cold and terrible outside, and I was hot and sweating by this time.  I decided to let them have their candy and we headed back home to eat it; me carrying one child on each hip dragging the dog behind us.

I learned a lot from last year's experience.  This year I prepared dinner the night before, I bribed them to put on their costume by letting them know that costumes equal candy, my husband and I both took them so neither person would be outnumberd, and we brought along a double buggy cart type apparatus to put stuff in.

I am proud to say that despite the fact that it rained the entire time, we walked through our small village and trick or treated at approximately a dozen houses.  Success, and at the end of the night although wet and kind of tired I didn't want to put anyone up for adoption.  Plus, as a bonus by them going to substantially more houses then last year, I now have way more candy to steal from them once they are sleeping.  

Memories Worth Forgetting

There are not many instances when I have been legitimately embarrassed of my children.  Angry, frustrated, self conscience, yes; but embarrassed they belong to me has only happened twice. 

The first time was shortly after my second child was born.  My oldest was about 1 ½ at the time and I had made an appointment to have our dog groomed.  I packed both kids up and headed to town, which is approximately a 30 minute trip.  I dropped the dog off assuming we would have about a 30 minute wait; however, I was unpleasantly surprised to find out it would be around 3-4 hours.    This was too short to go home but too long to stay unprepared.  I attempted to stay in town and by the time we pick up the dog I had two very tired children.  One strapped to my chest in a carrier and the other walking beside me.  We entered the store to get the dog and by this time the youngest was unhappy and crying.  The youngest was whaling really, and my older child was becoming impatient.  When we were trying to leave the oldest decided she would like one of the dog toys and when I told her "no" she started having a full out tantrum; laying on the floor kicking and screaming. 

I stood in the middle of the store with a new baby crying on my chest, my toddler screaming and rolling on the floor and our 85lb dog jumping around on a leash.   I picked the oldest off the floor under my arm and carried her screaming to the car with the other one crying on my chest and the dog tugging at his leash the entire time. 

The second instance was much more recent.  I had decided that we were going to have a fun girl's day.  I thought I would take them skating and then head to the grocery store with the kid's carts.  It was to be my youngest child's first time ever skating.  I knew right from the beginning that it had the potential to be a bad experience, yet I remained optimistic and pursued on. 

We arrived at the area, laced up skates, put on helmets and winter items, and by the time we were going to step foot on the ice I was already exhausted.  I grabbed two plastic bar type things provided to assist little ones on the ice and headed out.  Instantly, the youngest was not interested in using the aide and only wanted to be held.  She started yelling and so I tried to head back to the door to exit.  This made her yell louder and when I mentioned to the older one we might have to get off the ice she began to whine as she was not ready to leave yet.  I hoisted the youngest onto my hip which was apparently against some kind of safety violation and was scolded by the 14 year old monitor.  I injured my back hunched over the youngest while trying to encourage the oldest; all the while trying to act excited and have fun.  Not long after I dragged them off the ice pretty upset.  They then whined  for a treat and I gave in defeated.  There is limited selection at the snack bar so they ended up splitting a chocolate bar.  Bad, bad, bad decision. 

I still had to head to the grocery store to pick up a few thing.  By the time we arrived I has two girls beginning to enter a downward sugar spiral.  They were beginning to become delirious;  but unfortunately our cupboards were bear and so we perserved on into the store.  I bent down to there level and threatened them within inches of life and informed them of how I expected they should behave.  I believe that they could see through my guise and knew they had me.   I mean they had already won the candy bar.  Next races insured through the store as well as a game of bumper carts, and run over mommy's feet all the while I am trying not to bust out my possessed my the devil growl and scream at them.  I did refrain and kept my cool somewhat; however, I am sure onlookers tisked me behind my back.  We made it to the till and my youngest ran over to the greeting cards starting to pull them out.  I ran over and told her "no" which provoked a screaming fit.  People began to stare at me and wonder if she was injured.  I picked her up onto my hip causing her to act out with violence and me trying to restrain her in a publicly appropriate way.  

At this moment my oldest thought it would be fun to run away from me.  Off she goes looking over her shoulder laughing all the way.  I paid for my items, ran after her and grabbed her by the arm. This action caused her to start screaming as well.  I dragged them to the car and secured them into their seats.  I closed the door and screamed at them in my evil voice.  I think I saw them both shutter and the car went silent.

We haven't been back to the store since.

Reasons for Ratings

We are fairly avid car travellers in our house.  I have mentioned in the past how we definitely have our fair share of car trips.  Because of this I am always on the lookout for inexpensive movies to add to our collection.  This is how I first discovered the $5.00 movie bin at Wal-mart.

Each time I walk by the bin I do a quick sift to see if there are any children's movie's I can grab to watch in the car.  I have been doing this for some time now.  Sometimes we have hits and other times we have very big misses.  We have been subject to watching the "Pebble and the Penguin" movie for days on end; it doesn't have the greatest animation or story line.  For some odd reason my 2nd child's favourite movie at about 18 months was "The Cat in the Hat"; not the cartoon but the one staring Mike Myers (probably not appropriate).  I think I actually bought "The Cat in the Hat" three times from the bin as it kept getting scratched.

Looking back I believe it was one of the first times that I ever perused the $5.00 bin that I learned by biggest $5.00 bin lesson.  I had grabbed out a couple of children's movies and through them in my cart.  My oldest was just under two at the time and I had purchased "The Pebble and the Penguin" as well as "Coraline" for her to enjoy; both of these were movies I had never seen but appeared to be child friendly by the cover.

We got home and my husband went into work for the night and so I decided to turn on one of our new movies.  I threw "Coraline" into the DVD player and pressed play.  I was tidying things in the other room and dealing with my second child who was an infant at the time when I heard strange noises coming from the TV.  I walked back into the living room to find a somewhat horror type film playing on our TV.  I quickly turned it off.  Later that night after putting both of my girls to bed I finished watching the move and realized that it was definitely not a movie intended for small children.

The basic story line is a little girl feels neglected by her current family.  She finds a passage into another, alternate world with a new family.  Despite warnings from others she continues to visit this other world until she learns that the "other mother" is evil wants to sew buttons on her eyes and turn her into a ghost child.  Then there is a fight between the girl and the evil other mother and the little girl wins.  After this she learns to appreciate her regular life.  This is clearly, not a kid's movie.

I had kind of forgotten about the whole ordeal and by the weekend we were off on another car trip to visit the zoo.  My husband popped in a DVD for my oldest and attached the player to the back of the head rest.  Not far into the trip and turned around to ask my daughter how the penguin movie was.  I had thought he had put in the much loved "Happy Feet" and noticed she had a strange look on her face.  I looked at her and said "What's wrong, you love the penguin movie?"  To this my husband replied "oh, no I put that new Coraline one on".   I then asked my daughter if she wanted it off and with wide eyes and a horrified face she nodded yes.

And this is when I learned to not judge a movie by its cover and always read the rating first.

Cloudy with a Chance of Screaming

Fairly recently my husband and I have been discussing taking our oldest child to see a movie for the first time.  Since she was fresh and new she has been a TV kid.  She loved the colour and movement as a baby and continues to love shows and movies.  She will actually sit through a movie at our house quietly on the couch. 

Now, our next child does not have this same appreciation.  She rarely stops moving long enough to notice if the television is turned on.  The only show she has any interest in is Bubble Guppies and she can't even sit through a 20 minutes episode of that.  So understandably when I mentioned we all go to the movies together my husband gave me a sideways glance.

The truth is we both wanted to experience going to a movie with our oldest for the first time and I thought I youngest may enjoy it as the screen is so large and didn't want her to miss out.  Even though I didn't want her to miss out on the experience I also was prepared.  I said that if it wasn't working out I would just exit the theatre, no big deal.  I mean it's a kid's movie on a week night, I am sure it won't be busy and should be a fairly kid friendly place.  We had discussed a plan that if the youngest was not cooperative that I would leave with her.

We arrived at the theatre, got our seats, and sat down to wait for the movie to begin.  Our youngest did fantastic during the previews and I began to think she might really be into this.  She seemed tired and cuddly and I dared to think for a moment she might even just go to sleep.  However, as soon as the movie began it was like her cue to become restless.  We were sitting in the very back row and she began getting in and out of seat down the aisle.  There was no one in the row and probably around 15 other people in the entire theatre so it wasn't that big of deal.

This lasted for about 5 minutes or so when she decided she wanted to move.  I picked her up and we walked down to the very front row.  In front of us was a fairly large open area and she was running in it and dancing to the movie.   After about 10 minutes of this behaviour she decided to go back up the stairs.  I took this as my cue to exit the theatre as she was being disruptive.  I placed her onto my side part way up the stairs.

My stride was then interrupted by an incredibly boisterous woman informing me to get control of my child.  She then proceeded to engage in an argument with me in the middle of the theatre.  She informed me that my child was out of control, distracting her, and that she had paid to see this movie.  My response was that it was a children's movie, she should look at the screen and that yes we all did pay to see this movie including me and my child.  I reminded myself that my child was with me and told her to try and set an example for hers, then exited the theatre.

I would have liked to remind that women of instances I am sure she had in the past in which her children did not act perfectly in public situations.  I would have liked to express that my child was acting like a child at a children's movie.  And I would have liked to publically maim her using a lot of profanity.  However, I did not do any of these things, instead I practiced self control because I did want to set an example for my child.  I take away from this a reminder that we has parents are all in this together and to be more understanding for other parents.

After the movie finished my husband exited the theatre with my other child.  I told him what happened and he seemed surprised.  He then told me that he was surprised anyone said anything because he moved to the front of the theatre part way through the movie and there was another family seated beside him with a child that yelled and carried on through the rest of the movie.

I then smiled to myself, thankful for karma.  

The Blame Game

My two are continually justifying why they have just done some sort of undesirable behaviour.  I hit her because she took my toy.  She bit me first.  I had that baby.  That blanket is mine.  I am sure that these are common phrases that all parents hear with more than one small person in their home.  I don't think this is in any way special to our circumstances.

Often I find myself acting as a referee of sorts between the two.   I determine who gets what, I make them apologize and hug, and I take away toys if a compromise cannot be reached.  Again, nothing terribly uncommon.  I am sure most parents can relate to these kinds of situations. 

I try to understand and empathize that sharing is difficult and something that may not be so natural.  We try and instil that we take ownership for our mistakes and we don't blame others.  However, inevitably whenever one of my two is questioned on their actions, blame is placed on another. "Why are your toys not put away" I ask, "because you wanted me to come for dinner" is the reply I am given.   This list is endless.

This got me thinking as to why?   We talk about mistakes and ownership for them a lot in our house, so then why is it so hard to accept responsibility for ones actions.   I continually look at my husband and say "why is it so hard for them to just say they are wrong?"  

This past weekend I got my answer.  As per the usual when dealing with me I was running late.  We were headed to the Library then to dance class last Saturday morning, like all Saturday mornings from fall to spring.  I was rushing to get my two out of the house.  They were clothed in their dance attire toting along their books to exchange at the library, dance bag placed by the door and away we went. 

The library was a fairly typical experience with me giving warnings on proper voice amplification in such places and reminders on using our walking feet.  After counting down the number of minutes we had remaining until departure time, we left the library to head to dance.  Of course, we were delayed in our departure due to watching diggers nearby, and situating little ones into seats along with proper snacks.  

We drove to town and arrived perfectly, with about 2 ½ minutes to spare.  I turned to the back seat to tell them they would need to hurry when I noticed that the dance bag which carries their tap and ballet shoes was not

in the car.  I then proceeded to give them a lecture on the importance of remembering their things, stating it was their responsibility to bring their dance bag and that they would have to dance in stockings today.

We went into class when another mom came in and stated apologetically that she felt so bad because she forgot her child's dance shoes.  I told her that we did as well, and that she shouldn't feel bad as I just told my two it was their responsibility. 

Then it hit me.  I just blamed my 2 & 4 year old for me not remembering their dance bag.  Clearly, they are a little young to take responsibility for this.  Maybe this mom needs to work on admitting when she is wrong too.

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.

Cake Determines Gender?

This summer our family has been introduced to a new kind of party; the "Gender Reveal" party.  For people who are not aware, this is a new trend in which a pregnant couple, who are planning to learn the gender of their child prior to delivery, have a party and learn the gender at the same time as their guests. 

We have attended two gender reveal parties this summer and our children came along to both for a backyard afternoon style affair.  Upon entry to both parties guest were encouraged to choose what they thought, boy or girl, and either wear their choice or cast a vote.  Of course our girls hoped for girls both times.  At both of these parties the soon to be mom & dad learned if they were having a boy or a girl from cutting into a cake and discovering pink (at one it was actually yellow as it went with the girl décor better) or blue.

At one party our girls' wish came true and the inside of the cake indicated it was a baby girl inside the soon to be mommy's tummy.  They were elated and felt as though they had won something for being right.  At the other party the baby was determined to be a boy and this is when the questions started.

A few months back I learned that I was going to be an aunt and I couldn't have been more elated by the news.  Soon after, the mommy to be asked me if I had told my girls that they were going to have a new cousin to which I replied, "no, I assumed you didn't want everyone in the world to know".  Not taking my head seriously the mommy to be laughed and shared the news with my little ones. 

After that my oldest went around sharing this with everyone she spoke to

"My baby (referring to her little sister) is getting too big.  So they are growing me a new one, but I have to wait until Christmas to see it".

As her mother I was given some sideways looks and some congratulations until I could explain that I was not expecting but instead her aunt.  Thankfully now the news is out and those awkward moments have passed; however, the gender reveal parties have struck a whole new kind of awkward.

I believe being incorrect on the baby's gender sent her to a very thought provoking place and she asked my husband "how does the baby get out of the tummy"?  My husband side stepped around this question and gave me a heads up that I would be handling that one. 

After some consideration I decided I would just answer the question directly and not make it a very big deal.  A few days later she came and asked me the same question "how does the baby get out of the tummy"?  I looked at her and said very casually "well women's private parts are called their vagina and that is where the baby comes out".  She looked strangely at me and said "oh mommy that's so silly", and walked away.  At this point I kind of thought we were in the clear until a couple more days passed.

Now this is our four year olds new favourite game.  First she stuffs a baby doll up her shirt and says "I have a baby in my tummy", followed by "oh, it's coming out of my privates" and finally "now I have to cut the cake and see what it is; it's a girl"!

Hopefully this game ends before school starts!

Ignorance is Bliss

Ignorance is bliss.  The longer I have been a mother the more I understand how true this statement is.  I believe that I am not alone in my choice to often ignore what is happening around me.  I am a firm believer in letting things happen and often utter the phrase "just work it out girls".

I am now able to turn a blind eye to many situations I never thought possible.  Sometimes I just sit back and watch the scene unfold.  The other day my oldest was in the yard playing.  I could clearly see she had to use the facilities as she sat on the ground rocking, looking somewhat like a dog with worms.  I hollered out to her "time for a bathroom break" to which she replied "I don't have to".  A few minutes later as my husband and I watched out the window, she dropped trousers and squatted in the grass in the back yard.  My husband and I looked at each other and started laughing.

There are times when I take the looking the other direction approach just a little too far.  While trying to unload the dishwasher and get dinner started, I willingly ignored the other room because it was silent (never a good sign with little ones in the house).  I later walked into the other room to find stream on the living room floor created by the little ones with both my girls sitting beside it pretending to be at the beach.  In this instance, my choice to embrace the silence and try and frantically get some things put away created a lot more work! 

Other times, I holler over my shoulder without even looking to just work it out because I do not want to be judge and jury yet again and decide who had what toy first.  This situation is a 50/50 split; sometimes they figure it out and sometimes someone walks away crying. 

This ability to choose to ignore situations is a skill that I did not posses pre children.    Pre children I was a crazy control freak and referred to myself as "passionate" because I had an opinion about everything.  Now I refer to my youngest as "passionate" and am getting much better at going with the flow.

I guess with chaos also comes calm. I perceived my life was much busier and more important than it was.   Don't get me wrong, I can still tap into my emotions and be as crazy as ever; it just is slightly more infrequent because I am too busy cleaning up various liquids my children have spilt all over the floor.  

Telling Stories

In our house each night includes the same routine.  A race upstairs followed by bathroom breaks, teeth brushing and books in mommy & daddy's bed.  Finally piggy back rides and spins to their beds, a song, a kiss, a hug, and out the door.  As it sounds, it is quite the production and sometimes takes upwards of 45 minutes to get them both in their beds for the first time.

They share a room, so lots of nights this first drop into their beds is followed by many trips upstairs by yours truly, and warnings that they need to get back to bed and go to sleep.  Sometimes I actually just stomp up the bottom few stairs as a warning.  As I do this I can hear their feet scurrying around the room and jumping back under the covers.

For over four years this has been our routine and like it or not we are kind of stuck with it now to some degree.  Looking back I think I am sure we could have made this nightly chore much faster and kind of kick myself for not knowing better at the time.  I wanted to share this because we are coming to the end of an era in our house and I believe this routine might end up being stretched out even longer.

My oldest turned four a few months ago and her comprehension is now far enough ahead that pulling the wool over her eyes is becoming increasingly difficult.  Like most people I know with small ones I am tired at the end of the day.  I mean those kids wear me out!  So on more than one occasion I have been known to paraphrase a book or two, or perhaps skip a page here and there if not enough attention is being paid.  I mean sometimes things just need to move along a little faster.   I for one am sick of that white bunny Ruby always being such a bossy know it all and take a creative story telling approach.

However, over the last few weeks I am able to get away with less and less creativity.  I am constantly being told that I have missed a part, or a page, or that it doesn't go that way.  One of the biggest problems is that sometimes the corrections she is telling me about are actually not even in the story.  They are from other nights in which I was taking creative license and no longer remember what I had said. 

The other night during her giving me lectures for reading inaccurately I told her that she could just go ahead and read the story then.  Now I thought I took creative license, while this kid was another story.  That was the longest story with absolutely no plot I have ever sat through.  It included a song that I did not understand the words to, dancing and parts where I was expected to interact.  Really big mistake.

So for now I am going to have to read the actual stories as they are written; or, maybe a better idea is that it is time for some new books.

Too Old?

How old is too old?  This is a loaded beginning to any sentence and the way a recent conversation began with my husband.  One night not so long ago he turned to me and asked "So how old is too old to have a belly button ring?"  "Why do you ask, because my stomach is eating mine" I replied.

Now, I know I usually tell stories about my munchkins; however, this is related because my body looks the way it does because of them.  I have been told many times in the past that I am probably too old  to still have a belly button ring.  People are actually very surprised to find out that I kept it proudly through both pregnancies.  

Anyone  other than my children or husband would not even know that I had it.  My abs have not seen sunlight for probably five years.  My oldest regularly presses on my stomach and states "Your tummy is squishy because you grew babies in it, right?"  They both think that I am so lucky because I have a jewel in my tummy.  

Usually when people tell me it is time to get rid of it I don't think much of it.  I snuck out at lunch one day at school when I was 14 and got it pierced.  It wasn't until about three years later that my parents even realized I had  it pierced.  It has been a part of me for so long that I can't really imagine life without it.  In fact I have had it longer that I have lived without it. But when my husband commented on it I got thinking- is it time to retire the belly button ring?

After a lot of thought I decided that maybe he was right and that I should take it out.  Clearly, a 29 year old mom of two with a serious case of mommy tummy having a belly button ring is quite ridiculous.  So the other night I took it out.

After it was gone and I looked in the mirror at my stomach I thought it looked odd.  My usual bling was not there and I can honestly say I wasn't sure that I liked it.  

I think it was about 20 minutes later I felt sad about its lack of presence.  I decided that too old or not I am not ready to live without it and put it back in.

Maybe I will try again at 30.