Celebration!

When you are a kid any holiday, birthday, yearly event and special occasions are beyond exciting.  They break routines, allow sugar induced highs and generally involve presents.  As you move from childhood into the teen years they usually involve the same excitement but instead of sugar the highs are induced in other ways.  There are not many changes between the teen years into the early twenties; in fact sometimes I believe we partied quite a bit later into the night.  It’s however moving into your late twenties and your early thirties when these celebrations lose a bit of the luster.  Our society has us believing that aging isn’t a good thing so we start to downplay birthdays and another year gone by.  I think we’re also tired of getting sore cheeks and passing out from blowing up balloons.

It all changes again when you have children.  They breathe new life back into the observations we choose to recognize with cake and streamers.  They also choose to wake you up at 5:30 in the morning on a day you promised them you’d bake a birthday cake for their grandmother.  I’m actually not sure what I was thinking telling my daughter that we A) were celebrating my mom’s birthday the next day or B) that we’d bake a cake for her.  I am usually smarter than that.  I usually wait until that day or the actual even is already happening before I start talking about it.  In retrospect it was my own fault but I was still a little crabbier with her than I normally am in the morning.

I found myself wandering around supermarket aisles yesterday getting inspired about a specific decorations and cake pans.  I am not much of a baker myself but my daughter I think would like to be the next “Cake Boss.”  It’s crazy how much the possibility of us eating cake can motivate the kids into behaving for a day.  So now we are in the process today of baking a special cake for the kid’s grandmother.  It’s actually been a lot of fun.  We’re not doing a big party or anything but going to have a little dinner get together. I find that I am not agreeing with society’s take on getting older and don’t swallow the whole “aging is bad” gig.  I am feeling more secure with myself, my position in life and my world then I ever did before.  I think that with age you can learn to appreciate those around you and what you already have instead of always seeking for more and better.  I think that it’s nice the kids have shown me that it’s important to remember to celebrate all these happy times in life.  With so many bad things happening in the world and with so much negativity it doesn’t hurt to shed light on the good times!

Happy Birthday Mommy Dearest we love you to the moon and back!!

There is Only 7 Weeks Left!

I was just going through some flyers today and a big notice on the top said “Don’t wait too long; Christmas is only 7 weeks away!!”  I immediately thought “Holy crap that’s coming up quick.”  Then my next thought was how bizarre of a trick that time really is.

I am at that age group where almost every one of my friends has either just had a baby in the last couple years, is planning on having a baby in the next couple years or is about to have a baby.  Since I’m done with the "planning-on" or" is-about-to-have" stages I’ve been kind of reminiscing.   I want to stop and make it perfectly clear that I in NO way, NO how want another baby.  I love my children to the ends of the earth but I know that part of my life is over.

It however doesn’t stop me from looking back on my pictures of when I was expecting or when the little goobers first popped out.  It reminds me how fast the time really goes by.  Time has been like lightening these past couple years and I can hardly believe that my little girl is going to be 4 soon and my son is already 2. 

All of these nostalgic tendencies are being triggered by talking with some of my friends that are in the expecting stage.  When I think back to my own pregnancies, the uncomfortable size, the morning sickness, the being able to touch your toes or shave your legs, the back problems, the trying to squeeze behind the steering wheel of the car, the millions of doctor appointments that tell you how much weight you’ve gained or sticking their hands in your private areas.  Even after all that I still can’t help but think how cool it really was.  If you would have asked me at that time I would’ve told you I HATED being pregnant, even more so the second time around.  I think I do however miss the baby jumping around inside (as long as it wasn’t 2 am and on your bladder of course).

This is however where time is tricky. If I was pregnant and the heading said “The birth of your baby is only 7 weeks away!”  I would have a completely different reaction.  It would feel like an eternity.  The last 7 or so weeks of being pregnant you feel like a ticking time bomb.  At the end of the pregnancy you know that you are going to go through an excruciating nightmare (I should’ve taken the drugs…but that’s a whole new topic) but that’s not even enough to want to wait any longer.  If anything you just want it to happen so you can move on and get on with your life.

I know that time is just a manmade device and putting too much precedence on it can cause you much suffering, unfortunately though it’s so hard in today’s society not to be ruled by it.  I wish that the 7 weeks till Christmas felt as long as the 7 weeks until your baby comes.  Maybe then I’d be able to get all of the things done in prep for the holiday with lots of time to spare.

Could You Spell That For Me Please??

So I’ve hit that stage of parenthood where everything becomes spelled out loud if we don’t want the kids to know we’re talking about a certain subject.  There are a few problems I’m starting to notice arising from this way of talking.

How do you stop?  I mean really, I spell every ending to almost every sentence I speak now.  The kids might not even be in the same room and I’m spelling.  It’s like I’ve tripped some sort of wire in my brain that taps it into thinking I’ve got to hide everything I say from the kids.

This brings me into the next problem.  How do I spell that?  I used to be a fantastic speller, now I suck at it.  My mother and I actually just had this conversation and we are both finding this to be true.  Since the invention of spell check our spelling skills have dropped substantially.  In fact I have come to rely on it so much I’m starting to wish I had a spell check in my brain.  That way when I’m trying to spell the word, hmmm let’s see, toys.  I start by saying “T- um - O – Y- um - S.”  I mean really.  It’s not like I’m trying to spell onomatopoeia (and yes spell check on my computer thankfully corrected my original guess at this word).  It would be really awesome now if someone could come up with a real “babel fish” that not only translated other languages for us but would include that all important spell check feature.

Whenever I spell things to my hubby he always gives me a blank expression.  It’s not like he can’t spell, he’s actually really smart.  You see he often goes away for weeks at a time and hangs out with a bunch of adults, therefore no real need to spell stuff out.   He’s really not used to it and I always feel silly afterwards.

Another problem with spelling everything is that the kids are starting to pick up on some words.  I think the dog has even come to the conclusion that “W-A-L-K” means we should get all excited and run around.  I mean what the heck are we going to do when the kids can actually spell?  How would you and your partner or you and the grandparents ever going to communicate without the kids knowing what is being said? 

We could maybe start speaking other languages to each other.  I am currently brushing up on my Español in preparation for a trip my hubby and will be taking, without the kids, to the Caribbean in less than two weeks.  I guess that would be another useful purpose for installing the babel fish, we’ll just take up speaking Spanish to each other, although my daughter knows lots of that too (thanks Dora the Explorer). 

Well I guess it’s time to sign off.  A-D-I-O-S

Cleaning Enigma

I’m always scared to change the sheets in the kid’s beds.  This may sound like something weird to be scared of but I am.  It’s not because there are any boogie monsters (although maybe the odd boogie) hiding under the bed.  It’s not because I’m scared to find surprises in the sheets.  It’s not even because I’m lazy.  It’s because of the children’s ability to sense that once something is cleaned they immediately need to dirty it and the work has to be repeated ASAP. It NEVER fails.  I strip all the beds, change all the sheets in the house and if not one than both of the kids have a night time accident and in the morning it has to be done all over again. 

Then this morning, over my cup of tea, I realized that this is so true with EVERYTHING in their lives.  Anything that gets cleaned immediately becomes a point of interest and must be dirtied instantly.  I’m absolutely sure that my son can’t poop in anything but a freshly changed diaper.  I’m sure the draw of a freshly cleaned pane of glass is the most tempting canvas for fingerprints.  I am sure the kitchen table has an invisible sign, only seen by children, that says please throw all food as far and wide as possible, bonus points given for rice.  I am sure that clothing, toys and all furniture should just be made to hose down.

I am a little bit of a clean fanatic.  I’ve actually relaxed quite substantially since having kids.  I mean don’t ask my husband to verify this piece of information because he still thinks I’m nuts.  In fact when we’ve discussed getting a house keeper in the past to help he thought that it would be a waste of money because I would probably go along behind them and clean again to my standards.  I think he’s being unreasonable.  I mean I at least have stopped taking a ruler and straightening out the towels accordingly.  I’ll have you know that my towel closet is A) not color coordinated at the moment and B) there are some towels that have crossed over the line of not being folded exactly right.  I wish I was kidding but I’m really not.

Being a clean fanatic with kids is really stressful.  In fact if you don’t let some of the craziness go when you have kids then you’d end up in the loony bin.  I’m especially finding it hard now that we’ve moved to a house of enormous proportions.  I mean it literally needs to be cleaned in stages.  My husband also works away.  He is gone for several weeks at a time.  I’m not sure when it’s harder to clean either.  I always find myself wishing that he was home when I’ve been cleaning all day and am constantly trying to corral the kids into a safe zone, mainly to avoid wrath of mom-in-cleaning-mode and stopping them doing what they do best (dirtying things immediately after).  Then when he is home I find the mess is substantially worse.  He’s almost as bad as one of the kids.

Not much irks me more than someone messing the bathroom up immediately after I’ve just sanitized it.  My husband, much like the kids, immediately has to go mess up the bathroom by shaving, washing his face, brushing his teeth and taking a crap.  You might think that’s typical bathroom behavior until you’ve seen him preform those tasks.  He definitely goes at it just like a person who’s never had to clean a bathroom in his life, which he probably hasn’t.  There is water from one end of the bathroom to the other and spots of toothpaste on the mirror, globs of paste left in the sink and poop stains in the toilet.  Then there is the hair.  Oh my goodness.  All those tiny little hair clippings from the razor get stuck in everything! This all coming from the person who is completely disgusted by finding dust on the dashboard of the vehicle he is driving. 

Maybe I’ve solved the mystery, it’s a genetic thing and NOT from my side of the family.  My mom definitely is still using a ruler to straighten out her towels!

Children Can Make One Question Their Character.

So this topic has been hovering in my brain waves for a couple days but every time I seem to sit and write about it the subject morphs into something different and I end up completely off.  I’ve decided today that I’m going to attempt to stay on point.

Little children have a way of making people do things out of their character.  It’s like the saying I’ve been seeing floating around Facebook recently that goes somewhat along the lines of “Doesn’t matter how tough you are when a 2 year old hands you a pretend phone you answer it.”  The first time I saw this I laughed because it was true.  It then started popping up several times a week on my Facebook page and it got to be one of those redundant once-funny lines that has been read so many times it has lost it’s humor.  Even though it doesn’t seem quite as amusing it has undergone a metamorphosis of sorts in terms of meaning to me.

A really good example is an incident that occurred very recently…thus why I’ve been prompted to address this topic.  I went on a shopping trip with my rowdy children and one-who-shall-not-be-named for legal purposes.   The reason for the trip was a monthly stock-up run at a large warehouse department store.  My children were being a special brand of “crazy bad” for the past 24 hours and looked as though this day was not going to be any better.  Actually to be quite fair it was mainly my daughter. My son was just being typical brand of “kid bad” that day.  Upon arrival to the store one-who-shall-not-be-named and I got a cart each and took one child each to split them up.  When giving one-who-shall-not-be-named the choice of which child they would like for the duration they immediately opted for the less of the two evils that day, my son.

The trip of course coincided with nap time.  We had planned well to feed the children prior to entering the store but unfortunately there is only a small window between lunch and nap.  Once in the store I spent most of my time begging my daughter to behave herself and threating to ground her for life if she didn’t settle down.  More than once I said to one-who-shall-not-be-named and loud enough for the patron that was shopping nearby “Good choice on which kid you picked today.”  All was well until about ¾ ways through the trip when my son started getting the pre-nap whine on.  He began to get fussy but with that heavy lidded, head nod happening.  One-who-shall-not-be-named was first walking around with their hand under his head trying to provide some support so that he could have a nap.  Between navigating the cart and my son starting to increase the fuss level to an actual cry one-who-shall-not-be-named took of their jacket and put it under my son’s head in order to encourage slumber.  It wasn’t enough; the cry was beginning to escalate into a probable scene.  I then offered my jacket, which if you read my last article and for those who know me, is a HUGE sacrifice on my part because I’m always cold.  It still wasn’t enough; we were coming close to a possible melt down.  Then one-who-shall-not-be-named grabbed a large soft housecoat from the clothing section close-by and placed it on top of the all the jackets already existing under his head. My son is insane about his SOFT blankets and without something microfiber soft he is almost impossible to convince to sleep without.  Now that all his sleeping criteria were met he immediately dozed off and was silent. 

                                                                *                             *                             *

Flash forward about half an hour and several threats to my daughter later and we have just left the store.  We are in the parking lot; it’s really, really cold (especially as we are both jacketless) and we are trying to get the vehicle loaded with our wares.  Upon getting my son out of the car seat one-who-shall-not-be-named realizes that we have inadvertently not paid for said housecoat.  By this time we’re both exhausted, my son is screaming bloody murder due to being woken up early and upon removal of his soft “blanket.”  One-who-shall-not-be-named did something completely and utterly out of character, put the soft housecoat back on my son (who immediately said “Bank, you” and fell back asleep) and said “Whatever let’s just go.”  We are now fugitives from the law. 

My 2 year old son was capable of forcing me to be an accessory to a crime.  If that is not out of my character or one-who-shall-not-be-named’s character than I don’t what is.  Anyhow the mental anguish subsided pretty fast, due partly to the fact that my son stopped that ear-piercing screaming and even my daughter fell asleep shortly after but also because karma has already paid us back.  We shortly discovered the pilfered housecoat will fit absolutely no one that we know of because it’s both too small for the adults and way too big for the kids.  At least in my conscious I know that if we were going to intentionally steal something than at least we’d ensure it fit first.

 

 

 

Coffee and Rebellion

I consider myself an early riser.  I’ve always been the person up at the crack of dawn ready to rock (just ask my mother she’d confirm this detail).  I am also like this naturally.  I don’t drink coffee because the results are somewhat akin to the whole Jekyll/Hyde conundrum but instead of an evil conscious free beast I turn into someone as completely annoying as Jar Jar Binks from the more recently produced Star Wars series.  In fact at one point my husband asked what I would like, while we were waiting in the infamous Tim-Horton’s drive-thru line up, and I responded that “I think I’m going to try a coffee today.”  My husband gave me a look of exasperation and said (to which I’m not kidding) “I’d rather see you drink 10 shots of tequila than a cup of Timmies Coffee!”  Therefore my choice of caffeinated morning drinks is generally a mild tea.

Tea is actually a new development in my choice of morning beverage.  It’s just been since the birth of my son that I really started to notice a dependence on my cup of tea in the morning to get me through.  I also blame it ON the birth of my children that I am turning to chemical substances to give me that perk that has always come to me so effortlessly.  Don’t get me wrong I’d probably still be the type of person to go to bed early and rise early if left to my natural habitat but I’ve also noticed that I’ve got this underlying personality trait I never realized I had, rebellion.

On top of being an early riser I’m also a goody-goody.  Through my teenage years I kept myself out of trouble because of this one concern my mom planted in my brain during my pre-teen childhood stage.  She told me that she hated all teenagers because they were all assholes.  I asked her if she was going to hate me as well, she said “Yeah you’re probably going to be an asshole too.”  Well I’m such a people pleaser that this particular line stuck with me and I always swore to myself that I would NOT become a teenage asshole and I didn’t.  I participated in very limited of the teenage experimentations and was often forced into skipping a day or two of school by my very own mother (I think even she thought I needed to try to act out on more of those turbulent teenage hormones).  It wasn’t until I had my kids did this latent rebellious gene rear its ugly head.

My kids have always been fantastic sleepers.  I think that’s why they survived everything else.  I have several friends who have kids that don’t sleep very well but during the day their kids seem like normal human beings.  I got the flip side.  My kids sleep well at night but during the day they act as they are aliens on a mission to destroy all that we know.  However, as of recent my daughter has started to wake up at the crack of dawn and pull out all weapons in her artillery to ensure that the neighborhood has woken up with her.  This normally would suit me just fine except for this unknown characteristic that’s been emerging.

I am coming to the conclusion that there are three reasons for the lack of pep in my step:

One, this is the first time in my life I find myself without a goal.  I am currently unemployed for the first time since I was 14.  I am not immersed in my employment, planning a wedding, anticipating the birth of a baby, working on the renovations of a house, attempting to buy or sell property, packing or prepping for a move across the country, aiding with the care of a sick loved one or getting geared up to execute a giant family reunion (aka the past 10 years of my life).   I am currently organized, scratched out the bulk of my to-do list and I’m not surrounded by an entire community of people who have kept my life occupied and busy.   I want to stop here though and point out that I’m not complaining about this.  It’s just the fact that lack of a major goal looming on the horizon is a foreign concept to me and so I’m not sure how to react.

Second, I think I might be burnt out and just catching up from all the items listed above.

Thirdly, having the same routine for 10 years straight.  Even though my life seems to have slowed down exponentially I still participate in the usual kids routines.  People say that I’m probably feeling so busy and overwhelmed by the two kids but I’m not so sure if that’s exactly the reason.  I think it might have more to do with the employment I’ve served in the past 10 years.  I worked with mentally disabled adults, and while extremely rewarding and having given me an unprecedented knowledge of life skills, it basically involved me following the exact same routine as I follow now as a parent.  I think it’s lost the luster eons ago. 

Lastly it’s this underlying rebellion emerging.  I don’t want to.  I don’t want to get up when the kids want me to.  This morning is a prime example.  I was actually lying in bed awake for near half an hour before my daughter emerged from her bedroom and came to wake me up.  I instantly shut my eyes, put down the book I was reading and pretended I was sleeping.  I fought with her for nearly 30 minutes basically begging her to let me just lay there for a little while longer.  I mean what was my problem?  It’s not like I wasn’t already awake.  I finally dragged myself up and out of bed when child number two made an appearance screaming for “NOKE” (that’s how he says milk) and if he doesn’t get it first thing in the morning he will continue to scream “PLEEEEEASE NOKE!” indefinitely.  I went into the kitchen, poured the kids their morning elixir and immediately went to my Tassimo machine.  I sat in front of it staring blankly trying to decide whether I should stick with my regular tea or go for a coffee to jolt some life back into my brain.   I know this sounds ridiculous because it’s not like I wasn’t already awake but something about the kids forcing me out of bed makes my brain put on the breaks and pretend it’s really tired.

This is how the conversation in my head usually goes when faced with this dilemma:

Rational Side: “I should make myself a tea.”

Jar Jar Binks Side: “I don't know. Mesa day startin pretty okee-day with a brisky morning coffay, then BOOM!!”

Rational Side: “I wonder if there is a chance I’ll see anyone I know today.  They could possibly cease to allow me to hang out ever again if they witness me on coffee.  I should stick with the tea.”

Jar Jar Binks Side: “Whatsa wrong with yousa? Hava coffay!”

Rational Side: “Do you remember what happened last time you had a coffee?”

Jar Jar Binks Side: “My forgotten, da Familia will do terrible tings to me. TERRRRRIBLE is me going back der!”

Rational Side: “So a tea it is again, sigh.”

Jar Jar Binks Side: “This is nutsen.”

Rational Side: “Oh shut-up Jar Jar Binks.”

Jar Jar Binks Side: “How wude!

 

You'll be glad to know I picked the tea again. 

Things that change.

Only a parent can fully understand the level of sacrifice needed to bring babies from that innocent, vulnerable, defenseless, stage of a human’s life to a stage where they can be somewhat self-sufficient (although I think that stage seems to be quite prolonged now compared to the not-too-distant past).  This sacrifice alone might actually be the one hardest aspects of the entire parenting processes.  When you have a baby a person needs to be prepared that their life will never, ever be quite the same as it was before.  Some people handle that aspect like champs, some people completely lose control and once seemingly decent people (or perhaps moderately seeming decent people) can turn into disasters after bringing a child into this world.  I think whatever the situation a parent can honestly say that there are several things they do now that they would have NEVER have done in the past.

Here are just a few examples of things that change:

Shopping.  You almost never find yourself shopping in a store that interests you because they usually involve a million breakable items that you would be a fool to take your kids near or tiny change rooms the stroller definitely won’t fit in.  When you have to do most of your shopping with the kids you find yourself waiting to go until you’re down to your last cracker, egg, banana and in my house milk (pretty sure we should have gotten our self a Jersey Cow to satisfy my son’s appetite).  I was never a big shopper to begin with but I definitely enjoyed it 10 times more before the kids learned that in big crowds mom probably won’t punish us as harshly.

Traveling:  I’ve always loved to travel, see new sights and explore foreign customs.  As soon as you have kids tagging along traveling becomes more like a new brand of torture.  We thought we got off lucky because my daughter is a really good traveler.  I apparently should have stopped having kids after her if I wanted to continue with the level of traveling that I’ve always dreamed of.  My son is what people refer to as a “homebody.”  We still attempt to take him with us, although on a few trips we considered leaving him behind.  It’s now become this crazy circus like production for us to go anywhere, even if it’s just a weekend trip.  You start to examine amenities such as playgrounds, hotel swimming pools, kid friendly restaurants, stroller accessible accommodations or flight options like a pro-sleuth before daring to book anything.  A place that you would have once avoided like the plague has become the number one pick on your list.  Once you’ve decided you’re going to leave it takes two months of careful planning, packing, re-packing (because they’ve outgrown the pants by two sizes already) and downright insanity to get out the door.  By the time you leave you have your entire house contents somehow crammed into every nook and cranny of your vehicle and you’ll definitely still have forgotten something vital (sometimes one of the children).  For some reason though I never seem to learn.  I have such a draw to go and see the world that I fool myself into thinking this time it’s going to be easier.  I am about to actually embark on my very first adults only trip since I’ve had the kids.  I’m now scared of two things.  One I’m going to miss the little buggers so much I’ll be homesick for the first time in my life or two that I’m going to enjoy myself so much that I’m going to disappear into the jungle to never be found.

Adult time: I’m not sure how many parents reading this will consent but adult time is starting to look like locking the door while going to the bathroom (even if the kids are on the other side of the door knocking and yelling for you), filling your car up with gas because you can’t hear the kids in the car with all the doors shut, the blissful 10 minutes between the time you put your kids to bed and when you go to sleep because you’re too exhausted to stay up past 9:00pm and other such moments.  When I have other people around that will watch the kids for me I’m so grateful to be able to have a shower without children underfoot or to be able to run to the store for supplies.  Going out for a night of dinner and movies with your partner is like a fantastical dream even then however you will find yourself talking about the children all night.  I’m not sure that will ever change now.

There are also several small things that you find yourself doing now that you are a parent but NEVER would have dreamed of doing before:  Watching the absolute worst shows on TV because it keeps your kid quiet for half an hour. Eating the leftovers your children leave on their plate (doesn’t matter if they’ve spit it out because they don’t like it).  Going out of your way to watch a parade (I hate parades, didn’t even like them as a kid, but my kids unfortunately love them). Choosing to eat at a restaurant you don’t like because it’s kid-friendly.  Buying a mini-van for your main family vehicle (hey they’re roomy and still decent on fuel).  I could probably go on forever.

On that note I have not had to yell at my kids to leave me alone for the past 5 sentences. This makes me scared because when you do actually get a moment to yourself and the kids are completely quiet in the background you know that they are probably up to something that may require bringing the pressure washer in to fix.