Hiatus

Obviously I haven't been blogging lately. Summer's here and with all the kids home all day, plus the regular crew I babysit and one extra just for the summer we've been busy to say the least! Add in all the vacationing we've been doing, coupled with the fact that I don't have a tablet or laptop to blog on the run, and you get one Momma who doesn't blog!

 

I've come to the decision that I need to take more time to look after things on this end. That end being my end -- the non-blogging end. So I've decided to take a hiatus from the blog.

 

There hasn't been much happening lately and with my home childcare increasing in popularity and my obligations relating to that expanding, I realize that something has to be given up. Also, my exercise routine has been tweaked a little from running to cycling, but that's filling up my early morning hours. In the end, there's no time to keep up with the blog. I've enjoyed looking back at comments and entries from the past 7 years (seriously!) and often I've been able to win a disagreement with Craig about when something happened because I can call up the blog entry relating to it. Hopefully I'll be able to swing by every few months but I'm not making any promises.

 

I feel lighter already! ;)

 

Cheers.

A Preview

We're getting ready to head on holidays again around here but plans for Shaun's 6th birthday are in the works. He's never had a party before (many reasons why, but mostly because he never asked) so this year will be the first time for him with his 4 buddies from school. Should be fun!

It's summer here and life is crazy busy - well, crazier than normal!  I would like to think that things slow down in the summer and some days we sleep in or eat lunch late (or not at all) and laze around the pool. It's not to be.

 

BUT I do have a brand spankin' new niece and nephew! Claire was born to my brother and his wife who already have Sam, and Blake was born to my sister and her husband who already have Cohen. Surprisingly, spending the day with the babies made me NOT want another one. Kyle is pretty much the age Ian was when Kyle was born; he's still a baby and I don't remember much from those first few weeks except that I was unbelievably TIRED!

 

Claire and Blake were born within 4 days of one another. Unreal how that happens, huh?! Hopefully we'll all have many more visits so I can continue to get my baby fix.  Although, the doctor confirmed early last week that Craig is officially infertile.  LOL No more babies for this Mama.

I Love You

Ian: "Mommy, I love you!"

 

Me: "Aww, Ian, I love you, too! You're so sweet."

 

Ian: "Mommy, I wasn't talking to you.  I was talking to Kitty."

 

Me, disappointed: "Oh, sorry."

 

Ian: "It's okay.  We all make mistakes."

Beaner

I can hear scuffling and activity filtering down the stairs from the boys' bathroom.  Ian seems to be MIA.

 

"Beaner," I call up the stairs, "what are you doing?"

 

"Anything," comes his reply from behind the door, opened to a mere crack.

 

"You're not getting into trouble are you?"

 

"No Mommy.  I'm not eating my toothpaste!"

 

*sigh*  This is my life.

Comfort Zone

 

I am happy to report that the severe grounding I had to impose on Shaun last week seems to have done the trick -- for now.  His behaviour has improved as well as his attitude and he's much more helpful with his brothers than I think I've ever seen.  That's One for Mom!  He's needed a few reminders here and there when he's starting to act up and has had a couple of days where he didn't earn any privilege back due to not-so-good behaviour but each incident was minor in the grand scheme of things.  I simply had to stick to my guns and follow through on what I said I would do.  Not so easy for me, especially at the end of the day when I don't want to fight and argue with the boys; just get them bathed and in bed so I can sit down myself.  Lesson learned, in more ways than one.

 

And now for something completely different.  I went hang gliding last night!

 

Shaun's best friend at school has a Dad who is not only a Canada Post mail carrier but also a hang gliding instructor.  I received a call yesterday afternoon from Mark asking if I'd be interested in joining him for a tandem flight around dinner time.  I quickly agreed and then remembered I didn't have anyone to look after the boys on such short notice but Mark's wife stepped up and offered to come out to the field with me and look after my Circus while I was flying.

 

I don't even know how to describe the feeling of being suspended 1500 feet in the air with no engine, just the wind keeping me airborne.  It was thrilling and terrifying, and completely empowering.  I felt like I could control anything up there.  Mark gave me a quick lesson on how to control the glider and then let me take control for a few minutes.  It was surprisingly smooth and not at all noisy; only the sound of the wind whistling in my ears and a muted flap from the glider in the breeze.  Not once did I question my safety or feel any fear of falling or spinning out of control.  Mark was on the Canadian Hang Gliding team (I had no idea there even was one!) back in the day and is quite experienced in things of this sort. 

 

Back on the ground, Mark's wife told me that Ian never took his eyes off the glider the whole time I was flying and would announce, "that's my Mommy," whenever we'd soar past the field where everyone was gathered.  I have promised Craig he can fly next but I will most certainly fly again before the end of the summer!

It Brought Me To Tears

The realization came to me while I was sitting in a worn patio chair watching leaves on a Japanese maple shudder as each gust of wind whisked past.  First one leaf would twitch and very soon the whole branch was moving; each leaf being affected by the one before, long after the wind died.

 

I've really been having a hard time with Shaun lately.  His attitude has been downright awful, he's been getting into fights with his friends (not physical but sometimes words are just as hurtful), he's been disrespectful to pretty much everyone including me and his brothers and both of his close friends, and seems to have come to the conclusion that he rules the roost around here because he's been breaking rules like they don't exist.  People have jokingly said to me that it only gets worse but I never, ever imagined it would even reach this point.  I mean, he's not even 6!

 

Shaun's been spending quite a lot of time with a little guy from down the street who is his age but in a different kindergarten class at the same school.  At the outset I was thrilled that Shaun and he seemed to get along so well.  They'd swap houses; spending one morning playing outside here and the following there.  This little guy's parents seemed great and he has 2 older sisters who have always been polite and helpful when I see them around the park or on the school yard.  I was a little irked that Bradley didn't seem to have any manners, though.  Afterall, everyone knows it isn't polite to show up at someone's door and ask to be let inside to play.  You wait to be invited inside.  Please and thank-you were obviously missing from his vocabulary unless he was reminded.  He wore shoes in my house once and I nearly threw him outside.  But the biggest thing that bothered me was the way he let Shaun speak to him.  Shaun was downright mean and nasty and if I was Bradley I would have punched Shaun right in the mouth.  Shaun preaches all the time about Bradley being a bully, meanwhile it's Shaun who's manipulating by calling Bradley a wimp and saying things like, "give me that silly band or I won't be your friend anymore." 

 

I thought this was what girls did?  Aren't boys only supposed to fight about who threw the ball further or who climbed to the top of the climber the fastest?

 

Craig and I have both had to intervene and send Bradley home when things seemed to get out of control.  We've each spoken to Shaun at length about what it means to be a good friend and we've grounded him from playing with Bradley for days on end.  Nothing seems to work because within an hour of them being together, Shaun's coming home upset that Bradley won't do what he wants or we're having to mediate something here.  Bradley's mom says Bradley never comes home upset about what happens here and she has tried to assure me that Bradley knows when he's had enough and will tell Shaun so.  He does have 2 older sisters.  But I fear that Shaun feels very powerful with Bradley because he can persuade Bradley to do whatever he wants.  That attitude has carried over into home in more ways than one.

 

We have 2 rules for Shaun when he's playing outside.  1: He has to tell us if he's moving locations.  Like, if he's playing in the backyard and wants to head out to bike on the sidewalk he has to tell us; if he's playing outside at Bradley's and they want to head to the park, Shaun has to bike home and tell us first.  2: He is not allowed, for any reason, to ride on the road.  Our road is a pretty busy one, Bradley's road is a quiet crescent with virtually no traffic.  But there's sidewalks, Bradley's house is on the same side as ours, the park is on the same side as ours, and Shaun's not old enough to be able to accurately judge how far a car is and how quickly he has to move to get out of its way.  Last week I took a stroll down to Bradley's house to say hi and bring some freezies.  I found Shaun PAST the park and weaving on and off the road using the driveways... in between the cars!  I held my cool until we got home so I wouldn't embarass him in front of Bradley (who IS allowed to ride on the road and who nearly got hit by a car doing the exact same things Shaun was doing back in the fall) but once we got home I laid into him about how dangerous what he did was and how scared I would have been had I gone to Bradley's house and not been able to find Shaun there.

 

On the way home from school today in front of one of his more 'conservative' friends, Shaun asked me if another name for a penis is wanker.  Seriously!  He spent a few minutes in the bathroom when we got home to remind him of where those words are used.  That's been my strategy for Ian (who has been dropping 'bathroom words' like that at the dinner table for weeks and I finally got sick of it).  Whether his question was valid or not, he said it with a smirk and knew he was pushing the envelope.  I think he wanted to see how far he could push before I snapped.

 

After school there were a couple more incidents of complete disrespect in the way he was speaking to me and I sent him to his room at 5:15.  He came down briefly for dinner, which I made sure he wasn't going to like, and then was back up in his room at 5:30.  He's been there ever since and I went in to say goodnight when I brought the Littles to bed.

 

So, the point of the Japanese maple?  One shaking leaf results in a whole branch swaying.  My words, actions, tone of voice, attention, everything, it all affects my kids.  But I really feel like this new change of behaviour in Shaun stems from me not nipping it in the butt at the very beginning.  I let him get away with maybe one saucy or snarky remark only one time and now the whole thing has exploded into a spicy foul-mouthed, rude, disrespectful 5 year old.  I don't know what to do and with Craig being at work when everything seems to be at its peak, his words aren't all that helpful the next morning.

 

My instinct tells me to remove all privileges from Shaun.  Everything.  And let him earn them back with good behaviour.  A respectful day earns him one privilege.  One incident of rudeness or disrespect and he loses one privilege for the following day.  What are some things I could take away?  Riding his bike, his silly bands, special treats like freezies and dessert (when we have it... which would be more often if he couldn't, just so the impact would be greater), playing with Bradley, television, special outings with me or Craig.

 

The hardest part for me is worrying that the other child affected will be lonely without Shaun or will think its his fault that Shaun can't play today.  Would it be wierd for me to explain to Bradley's mom why Shaun can't play?  I don't know.  This is so difficult!  And don't tell me it just gets harder!!

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

I have something much more upbeat and heart warming to share about my little terror, Ian.  I'll begin by saying that Ian is absolutely THE most difficult child I have ever had to deal with.  His toddler impulses are still in full swing at nearly 3 years old and I regularly catch him causing some sort of trouble or making some sort of mess.  Today it was him licking the lense of the video camera.  Why?  I don't know.  I wanted to crack him on the head with the camera, I was so angry, but I was worried I'd wreck the camera because he's so hard-headed.

 

Anyway, when I arrived at the Nursery School to pick Ian up this morning, one of his 3 teachers met me at the entrance to the classroom and said she had something to share about Ian.  "Oh no, what did he do now," I thought.  This isn't going to be good.  Her eyes welled up with tears as she started to tell me about how one of the other teachers set up a playdough table this morning for the children to play at.  The table had only 5 spaces at it.  When the table opened, many children ran over and Ian was among the first 5 to claim a spot.  Well, I guess another little girl didn't get there in time so Ian got up from his spot, walked across the classroom, grabbed another chair, pushed it back to the table, sat down in his own chair, ripped off a chunk of his own playdough and slapped it down in front of the chair he'd just added.  Then he said, "here, girl, now you have a spot too!"

 

My Beaner!!  :)

I feel I owe inquiring minds an update.  Yeah, my knees?  I sure did a number on them.  I tried to get out the day after my last post (nine days ago) and I didn't even make it to the end of the block; my knees were seriously THAT sore.  It was a pain that was concentrated on the inside of my knee cap and was excruciating if I was doing anything more than hobbling.  I returned home, iced my knees and started a regimen of twice-daily Motrin tablets to keep the swelling and pain at bay.  Just over a week has gone by since my last run.  I think the sore knees situation has put the kibosh on my whole running idea.  Even up until today, walking Shaun to and from school twice a day has been impossible.  Craig's taken him to school and I've been able to pick him up.  Any more walking than that hasn't been happening.  As it is, I feel like an old woman when walking down the stairs because essentially I take one step at a time; two feet on the step before proceeding downwards.

 

Well, I'm happy to say that today is the first day I'm actually feeling more normal than in pain.  Walking down the stairs is still uncomfortable but is nothing like it was last week.  Walking remains uncomfortable and it's completely impossible to do anything more than walk at a toddler's pace.  Case in point: Kyle took off running at Shaun's school playground today.  I called him to return and he only paused to smile at me before continuing to run.  At one point he got closer to the road than he was to me.  He was still a fair ways away from getting to the road but knowing I wouldn't be able to dart after him was humbling and terrifying at the same time.  Eventually I was able to catch up to Kyle and coerce him to walk towards me but it proved to me that I need to keep up with taking care of my body.

 

So on that note, I feel pretty good in saying that my running career is all but over for the time being.  I think cycling will be more up my alley.  I already have a bike with a nice gel seat cover.  Believe it or not I'm really disappointed with how I've let myself down.  I'm not a quitter and I don't really give up or fail at anything.  In the end, though, I only have one pair of knees and I'm only 30 so the thought of feeling like this indefinitely terrifies me.  Maybe once my legs are strengthened a little more I'll try running again.

A Setback

Last week I diligently set my alarm and set out for my morning run.  Friday morning I had an early drop-off for 7AM so I ended up getting up at 5:30 to make sure I had time for my full run plus a shower when I got home.  It was rough getting up that early but once I got going I enjoyed it even more than before because there were even less people out that early.  Friday also marked the beginning of phase 2 of my training: run 1 minute, walk 1 minute, for a total time of 24 minutes.  Around the third set in, or so, my knees started to ache quite a bit.  I've always feared running because of the impact on my knees; I've always had bad knees and wore a brace throughout middle school because my left knee constantly dislocated when I was playing sports or would turn funny on it.  Knees were sort of in the back of my mind but after the first few runs when I was barely sore at all I figured they wouldn't pose a problem. 

 

I continued Friday's run through to the finish but by Friday afternoon I could barely walk.  Bending or kneeling felt better than standing but stairs were agony; my knees hurt so terribly I was worried I wouldn't be able to walk by Saturday.  We spent the weekend re-doing all the front landscaping with a planting bed.  We hauled 4X4 pressure treated wood and I spent most of Saturday on my knees.  By Saturday night I knew there was a problem because even after a couple hours of rest they weren't feeling any better.  In fact, they felt worse.

 

According to Google, my quads are weak and my knees are compensating for the new stress being put on them.  The solution is to strengthen my quads.  Apparently the pain is caused because the cartilage is being worn down from grinding along the sides of the track it moves in.  A tighter quadracep muscle will lessen the amount of movement and grinding.

 

So I will head out tomorrow for my regular run and see how it goes at first.  I've had 2 days off since my last run but with all the work we did over the weekend and the fact that my knees are still screaming for some attention, I'm not feeling too optimistic.  I've found and printed some simple quad-strengthening exercises that I'll do every day and hopefully this will only be a small setback.  I have committed to still getting up before the kids so even if it's just for a brisk walk, it's better than nothing.  Also this week, I'm investing in a really good pair of joggers.  I have a feeling that my current running shoes are part of the problem.

1-2

Okay, so I ran again yesterday morning.  Got up bright and early with my alarm and did the same routine as Friday.  Surprisingly, today I'm not sore.  Not at all.  I didn't think my legs would get used to their new use so quickly.  If I rub my quads they're a little tender but not any moreso than they were the day after I chased Ian in the grocery store.

 

So tomorrow marks the end of my first week.  I'm hoping the trails are dryer tomorrow.  They were really mucky and squishy yesterday and I had to take a few detours into the parkland to avoid some pretty intimidating mud holes.

 

I'm enjoying exploring my neighbourhood.  We chose this neighbourhood before we even found the house.  We knew we wanted to live here because of the larger lots (for the city, anyway), the grown trees, the school, the community, and the trails.  It's been a lot of fun heading out in a new direction and discovering where it emerges from the forest.

 

Yesterday I found a look-out point that overlooks the whole entire neighbourhood.  It was barely 6:30 in the morning and the air was still misty.  No cars interrupted the singing of the birds and I stood and looked down on the place we call home.  It was beautiful.  Tall roof peaks tucked in between bare trees just beginning to show the first signs of bright new leaves.  With all that's been happening across the globe in the past few days, it was a somber moment to appreciate.  To appreciate that I can go out on my own so early in the morning and not have to worry about my safety, that I can look over where I live and see more trees than houses and that the sounds from the Earth around me are louder than the sounds of the people.

 

I will take my family to this place.  Maybe we'll even pack a lunch.

"Mom, who's Aw-sam-ah bin Lah-den?"  Shaun's attention is turned to CNN and away from his LEGO race car.

 

"He was a very, very bad man,  He killed thousands of people who didn't deserve to die."

 

"How did he die?"

 

"The military in the United States shot him with a gun.  In the head."

 

"You mean a soldier shot him?  Maybe it was with a long gun like Elmer Fudds!"

 

"Yes, a soldier shot him.  It probably was with a gun like Elmer Fudds.  I would think those soldiers carry all sorts of weapons."

 

"Why did he get shot?"

 

"Osama bin Laden blew up some buildings before you were born by crashing airplanes into them.  He also made some planes crash into the ground.  Everyone died and it was Osama's fault.  The United States has been searching for him ever since and yesterday they found him and shot him so he can't do bad things anymore."

 

"Why didn't they just put him in jail with other bad people?"

 

"Osama bin Laden was too bad to go to jail.  When the sodiers caught him, they shot him and now he's dead."

 

"I'm never going to be that bad.  I'm glad Aw-sam-ah bin Lah-den is dead, Mom.  People who are super extra mean like he was should get shot in the head."

 

_____________

 

The conversation was short and honest.  I answered his questions without offering too many details.  Somehow I think he'll remember this day as 'the day a soldier shot a bad guy with Elmer Fudd's gun'.

 

 

Ball Hockey

After Shaun decided he didn't want to play ice hockey because he's not a strong enough skater yet, we agreed that ball hockey may be the best option.  The games are on Saturday mornings usually and Shaun is on a team with his best school friend.  So far they've played 3 games and Shaun is really starting to get the hang of the flow of the game.  Each shift gets 2 minutes on the floor and then they sit on the bench while the next shift plays.  Shaun's team has about 12 or 13 players on it so not quite enough for 3 complete shifts which means it's pretty much equal time playing/resting.

 

Shaun really loves the game and gets better each game he plays.  So far no goals but I don't think he's aggressive enough to score any.  We spend all this time teaching our kids to share and be nice and all of a sudden they're put into this ball hockey game with a bunch of strangers who are on their own team and a bunch of other strangers who they're supposed to poke-check and steal the ball from.  Add in the confusion of playing an actual position like forward or defence and these poor 5 year olds are pretty wide-eyed when they first head on for their shift.  By the time the second period arrives they've remembered their job but with a whole week between games, it's all but gone by the following game.

 

If Shaun really shows an interest in ball hockey it may become the new go-to sport for him.  We certainly want our kids to be involved in one sport - and they can bounce from one to another if they choose - but it's important to us that they have a commitment to following something from start to finish through the season.

1-1 Part Deux

Well, apparently my cockiness about my legs being more in shape than I thought completely backfired.  I'm a hurtin' unit today.  My quadriceps on both legs just ache when I'm walking down the stairs especially; and trying to walk down the stairs while carrying Kyle is enough to make me wince.  Also, the muscle on my shin that starts under my knee and kind of wraps around the outside of my lower leg practically shudders whenever I flex my foot and pull my toes to the ceiling.  I obviously worked a group of muscles that don't get much action, and, surprisingly, I'm feeling really good about this pain.  It's the good kind of pain that I know is short-lived and will end up making my muscles stronger.

 

Believe it or not, I'm a little disappointed that my next run isn't until Monday.  I feel like I'm ready to go for another and challenge myself again.

 

Craig still hasn't a clue that I went out on Friday morning.  Not only does he sleep pretty deeply, but I think he figured I had an early drop-off on Friday and that was why I got up so early.  I'm the Queen of new-ideas-I-get-excited-about-and-never-follow-through-on so I want to get into a pretty good routine before letting him in on my dirty little secret.

 

Workout, health, and fitness aside, I absolutely loved being outside all by myself on Friday.  There was no stroller to push.  I never had to turn around to do a headcount and make sure everyone was following along.  It was me and a ton of birds and a lonely little bunny who I scared the crap out of when I dashed past his hiding place under a naked bush.  I know there's a fox family that lives in the neighbourhood, too, so I'm hoping I'll catch a glimpse of them one of these early mornings.  Add in the hawk that nabbed a terrified mole from the path about 100m in front of me and it was almost like the Circus at home... minus the screaming.

 

Run 1-2 will come on Monday.  Hopefully I'm not as sore on Tuesday as I am today.

1-1

I did it.

 

I went to bed early, set my alarm for 6AM, refused to repeatedly slam my hand on the snooze button, got dressed and went for my first run.  Ever.  The schedule I've chosen is from Run for Life.  This morning I did a brisk walk with my arms pumpin' for a good 5 minutes before I paused and stretched for a couple of minutes and then I started with running for 1 minute and speed walking for 2 minutes.  The first few cycles I felt like the 2 minutes of brisk walking was too long but by the 10th one I was still breathing really heavily by the end of my allotted walking time.  But I never cheated myself and I ran the whole minute; sometimes I'd make a goal of making it to the end of the path or 30 more strides before beginning the walking part.  I was exhausted when I got home but it was a really good kind of exhausted.  Strangely enough, while my legs felt a little weak for the first hour or so, it's my lungs that are still bothering me.  It's almost like I have a phlegm-y cold now because I have a terrible cough and some tightness in my chest.  I know it's from the run.  Maybe I'm clearing everything out?

 

I made certain to stretch very well before and after my run this morning so hopefully I won't feel much tomorrow in the way of muscle aches.  I walk about 1km each way every day to and from Shaun's school, twice, so a total of about 4km a day.  Mind you, that's at toddler pace since Ian walks beside the stroller but I think maybe my legs are in better shape than I had originally feared because they're not sore at all.  The morning will tell the whole story!  Shaun has an early hockey game tomorrow in a small town about 30 minutes from here so I have no chance to lay in bed and nurse my aching legs.

 

I actually feel really good about this new life choice.  I've had the experience before of starting too ambitiously and becoming completely discouraged after only one try.  I have two more runs (one on Monday and another on Wednesday) with this current run/walk timetable and then I move up to the next level.  I have them all marked out on the calendar so I can cross them off as I do them.  I'm excited to get this show on the road and completely surprised that I actually enjoyed myself this morning.  Now if I could only find my mp3 player...

Excuses

I am a professional at making up excuses for why I should/should not do something. Anything. And I'm a horrible procrastinator. Believe it - it's true. I am my own worst enemy.

I'm still hanging on to some 'baby weight' that I never lost after Ian was born. Then I got pregnant with Kyle: Excuse #1. Depression hit: Excuse #2. I was still breastfeeding: #3. Weight Watchers wasn't at a convenient time, I'm too tired, I don't have time to write down everything I eat, I eat on the go like most busy moms: #4, 5, 6, 7. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Have a problem? I have an excuse. I guarantee it.

I think I need a change of scenery. I've decided I'm going to try running. Seriously. It's worth a shot, I figure. I know I need to do something active beside chasing Ian in the grocery store and hauling laundry up and down the stairs. I turned 30 back at the beginning of March and I absolutely know I want/need to lose this baby weight. It's time. I went out and bought myself some pants and a sports bra tonight (because up until 2 weeks ago I was still wearing nursing bras even though I haven't nursed Kyle since November...) and I am committed to getting up early tomorrow to go for my first run. I haven't even looked at the weather because I don't want that to discourage me.

I am motivated and ready. Of course, I am still able to walk okay so I may change my tune tomorrow when my legs and butt are aching. I figure I have the weekend to recover before gettin' back at it on Monday again and I have Mondays off from home childcare so this may be the best time to start a new routine. I have printed off a chart of how to start from the bottom and work my way up to a full 30 minutes of running, 3 times a week, in about 9 weeks. That will take me to Canada Day, which doesn't seem that far away.

No more excuses

Walkin' Man

Kyle's walking everywhere now, but not because we were encouraging him.  In fact, every chance I had to put him back on his bum and discourage his desire to explore his world on his two feet instead of all-fours, I happily cashed in on.  Once Kyle discovered he could stand without holding on to anything for support, it was all over.  Within a couple of days he had taken his first few shaky steps and there was no discouraging anymore; only clapping and cheering that he had finally done it - through no help from us.

 

There has to be a moment in time when a baby decides that walking is easier than crawling.  But there's always a lot of difficulty in making that transition so I don't know why babies keep trying since crawling is decidedly easier in the beginning.  Food for thought.

 

When people would ask me if Kyle was walking yet at 14 months, they would usually react with surprise when I'd reply with, "no, thank goodness."  Developmentally, I knew he would walk eventually.  I was in no hurry to push him.  Partly because he's my last baby; partly because crawlers are a lot easier to keep up with; partly because a walking baby is no longer happy in the stroller/shopping cart/you name it; but mostly because something happens to children when they evolve from a 4-legged creature to a 2-legged:

 

They gain an attitude.

 

One day they're this delightful, smiley little creature in a chubby package who snuggles, keeps out of the cupboards and comes when you call.  The next day they're walking and all of a sudden they're screaming when breakfast doesn't come quickly enough, toilet paper is being dunked in toilets and they turn the other way and run (well, walk very quickly in Kyle's case) when you call.

 

In the last week, Kyle has dumped a dish of glue, spread a cup of applesauce into his hair, sucked on the toilet brush (twice!), tried to eat a penny, removed a massive clump of hair off of poor ol' Pokey's hind quarters, stuffed numerous dinky cars down the basement floor drain, ruined a CD-ROM for the Play Station, lost the letter D for the alphabet puzzle and broken a jar of pasta sauce by hitting it with a jar of pickles.

 

I'd like a Re-Do.

Technical Difficulties

Somehow, Javascript has been disabled (even though I have it enabled in every place I can find) so I can no longer post directly from blogger. 

 

I have figured out how to post directly from email, though, so I simply have to email myself a post and blogger takes care of the rest.

 

As my last post explained, there's been some illness here to say the least.  It's finally getting a little better but there has been no sympathy from me whatsoever.  Rough road.  Let's leave it at that.

 

I want to tell all about what the boys have been up to lately and Shaun's ball hockey and Kyle's new attitude now that he's walking, our trip to the US for shopping, and my discovery of my love language.  Lots to share!  I promise, I will be back very, very soon.

Man Cold

<div><div><div>I have just about had it with Craig's sitting-on-death's-door illnesses. We got into it a few weeks ago after some wierd virus spread through the house.  I think I blogged about it. Anyway, I was sick for, literally, 8 hours. I laid on the couch, skipped dinner, went to bed super early and sucked it up the next day when my family duties didn't disappear or get absorbed by someone else.  Craig, on the other hand, was sick for a week.  Seriously!  We all had the same illness and a grown man was the one who dragged his ass around the house the longest; whined and grunted and sputtered the longest; missed the most work/school and basically milked it for all it was worth.  I don't think he means to milk it, I just really think he's a total and complete wimp about the whole being sick thing.  And it completely pisses me off. Royally. </div><div> </div><div>I ended up bringing the boys to visit my parents on my own that day because Craig was sick (day 6). We stayed overnight and enjoyed a great visit. I got some advice from my Dad who is a great manager and negotiator and always seems to have the right thing to say. When I came back home I waited for a chance when neither Craig nor I was tired or irritated or busy (not an easy task) and simply said, "I felt really abandoned when you didn't come to my parents' with me. We had been planning this visit for weeks and then at the last minute I had to do it on my own. When I get sick I suck it up because there's no sense in wallowing in it. You need to do the same.  Get over it. You have the same illness I had so I know you're not any sicker than I was."</div><div> </div><div>He didn't say a word in response.  Not later that night, not the next morning, not again.  I could tell that what I said bothered him and was beginning to think that he finally realized what a baby he was being. Until today.</div><div> </div><div>Craig got up with the boys this morning since Saturday is my day to sleep in.  When I got up around 8:30 I took the Bigs outside to ride bikes and play around a little.  Craig eventually joined us and played a little road hockey with Shaun and Ian and we both chatted with the neighbours a fair bit. We were outside for a couple of hours.  When we came inside, all of a sudden he was coughing and rubbing his sinuses.  I asked Craig if he was excited to head to his Dad's place to watch the hockey game this afternoon.  His reply was that he wasn't excited for anything because he had a brutal sinus infection and his whole head felt like it was imploding.  He had to lay down and thus couldn't help me make lunch for the boys or do anything else.</div><div> </div><div>I ignored him, fed the boys and started preparing to leave the house for the afternoon with the kids.  Craig headed to our room - without telling me where he was going, which drives me completely NUTS!... ever heard of teamwork?!  We're a team so I need to know when you're going to be out of commission.  It's common courtesy!  </div><div> </div><div>Phew!  Okay, moving forward, Craig headed to our room.  I finished up lunch with the kids, got everyone cleaned up, tidied the kitchen, packed the diaper bag, loaded everyone in the van, checked in with Craig who told me he was still heading to his Dad's for the hockey game, and left. </div><div> </div><div>We were out the whole afternoon and only arrived back home for dinner.  Craig wasn't home yet.  When he finally walked in around 5:30 or so, he plopped his ass back on the couch because whatever sinus medication he had taken earlier had now worn off and he was back to feeling crappy.  Well, Princess, no sympathy from me.  I fed the kids their dinner and came down to the basement to hide out.  I can hear chaos ensuing upstairs and frankly I don't really care.  He's there, I'm here, he needs to suck it up for once.</div><div> </div><div>I'm so completely sick of this bull shit.  I already know I'm going to take FULL advantage of the very next cold I get.  This is ridiculous.</div><div> </div><div>I disabled comments so you don't feel you have to comfort me.  I just need someone to rescue me from this Princess!</div></div></div>

Rub a Dub Dub

Flu

We've been ravaged by the flu.

First it was Ian who had a few days of fever, lethargy and general miserableness. If it wasn't for his multiple daytime naps I wouldn't have thought anything of his mood since he's usually somewhat miserable and seems to have a higher body temperature than myself most of the time. Then he got diarrhea which spread to Kyle.

Kyle didn't seem to carry around any symptoms other than loose poops in his diaper. He's always been an awesome sleeper. Sometimes I STILL have to force him to avoid a third nap and he'll end up heading to bed around 7pm on those days; even after having 2 solid 2-hour+ naps throughout the rest of the day.

Friday evening and into Saturday I caught the bug and was down for the count. I felt nauseous and couldn't even think of eating a lick of food without feeling my stomach turn and my throat tighten. I was running a low grade fever that Motrin helped control. I fell asleep on the couch after dinner on Friday for a few hours while Craig held down the fort then I stumbled into bed at 9 and slept like I was drunk until Ian woke us up on Saturday morning.

Saturday night Craig spent the night out at his sister's place where she and her husband were hosting a UFC Fight Night. When Craig came home this morning he had come down with the same flu and spent the rest of the morning sleeping on the couch and throwing up. I'd like to think the throwing up had a little more to do with beer he drank and less to do with the flu but he's not one to drink (he only had 5 beers in 5 hours, plus food around midnight so he was anything but drunk). By mid-afternoon he was well enough to head into work so off he went while I brought the Circus to finish the groceries I didn't have time for late last week.

I had just finished our tour of the produce section when Shaun asked if he could lay in the cart because he wasn't feeling well. He's the last of us to get sick and seems to have it pretty mild. I quickly grabbed a few more essential things and paid before packing everyone back into the van and coming home. Shaun laid around the rest of the evening before asking to head to bed before 8. So far no sign of diarrhea or vomiting (the rest of us have had either one or the other) so hopefully he's okay to head back to school tomorrow.

Thankfully we seem to have completely missed the nasty, violent stomach flu that was passing through the school families before March Break. Ian's Nursery School sent home a letter stating a temporary policy change surrounding how long to keep your child home symptom-free before sending them back to school, and Shaun's class was missing 6 children out of 17 for the second last day of school before the break. Wish us luck that this bug is out of the house for good.

We Rallied

Today I was not at my best. My mundane Mommy duties were starting to creep in on my Mommy joys and I was aching for a break. I may or may not have been a little snippy with Craig. We ate dinner in near-silence; Craig and I not speaking a word in fear of having it come out not-so-nice. I repeatedly asked him if there was anything wrong and he repeatedly responded, "nothing's wrong." Then I silently groaned when he decided to bring Kyle and join me and the Bigs for their last swimming lesson.

Swimming lessons are something I do with my boys. It's my thing... and he was intruding. The conversation in the van was focused on the Bigs and what they were going to show us tonight. I whisked Ian into the swimming complex while Craig brought Kyle and Shaun to the observation deck. I handed Ian off to his instructor and joined Craig upstairs. We barely spoke but sat beside one another. Quietly smiling and proudly applauding Ian's accomplishments.

Then it was Shaun's turn. We watched him kick and stroke and glide. Both of us stood against the glass railing and anxiously watched Shaun complete his 5 metre swim. We were together and separate at the same time. Our minds focused on our children, our hearts wondering what was so wrong with this day.

Ian fell asleep while we were watching Shaun so I brought Kyle with me when I went to help Shaun shower and dry off and Craig stayed with Ian. We agreed to meet at the main entrance. When I walked out with Kyle on my hip and an overflowing swim bag full of wet towels and swimsuits thrown over my shoulder I saw Craig's face and knew something had happened with Ian. Ian's full length footie jammies were drenched with barf. Craig's new coat had barf all down one arm and seeping through the centre zipper. Without a word he unzipped his jacket and revealed his shirt which was also covered in barf.

"It's okay," I calmly said. "Take off your shirt and coat. You can have my jacket to go grab the van."

"But you only have short sleeves on." He was concerned I'd freeze without a coat.

"It's okay. I only have to be outside a moment. I'll be alright. Go get the van and we'll be okay until you come back."

We rallied and all the way home we held hands.

Cynicism

I'm a complete cynic. I've always thought the absolute worst about people and tend to analyze every single thing they say/do; always looking for something that I can say, "Aha! Caught you!" about. I think this is the main reason I don't have many girlfriends. I'm somewhat a loner (by my choice) and hate feeling obligated to keep in touch with girlfriends lest they think I'm mad at them. It's so petty. And I choose to stay away from it. But I also think that I've never allowed myself to become really close with that many people specifically because I'm so cynical.

There's never really been any value, in my mind, in my cynicism, until we started sending feelers out for a roofing contractor. It just goes to show that it pays to do detailed research and expect the worst about these guys. We've had many different characters, shall we say, to the house. One simply measured the front of the house and then drove away; another didn't climb on the roof and walked along the sidewalk instead; then we had one who even climbed into the attic to look at the under side of the sheathing. We still have a few more quotes to get but my instincts have been right on as far as who's shady and who's not. The one guy who simply walked along the sidewalk has had multiple businesses with multiple telephone numbers in the past 7 years or so. All that tells me is that he keeps changing his business name to run away from people who are after him. I had a bad feeling about him as soon as he walked into the house and after some probing questions I learned about the other businesses. Of course, he had every excuse why that business is no longer around but, bottom line, if he changed his business name and phone number there must be something about the previous one he doesn't want following him. Reputation, bad references, lawsuits; I don't want to find out.

Hopefully this will all be sorted out within the next couple of weeks. I'm waiting to choose and book a contractor before going shopping! That way I know how much I have to spend!!

Bad News

As it stands right now with Craig on afternoon shift, Shaun and Craig are able to spend mornings together before Shaun heads off to school after lunch and Craig leaves for work mid-afternoon. Come September when Shaun begins grade 1, the two will literally not see one another during the week at all. Craig will still be sleeping when Shaun leaves for school in the morning and by the time Shaun returns from school Craig will already be at work. Our only saving grace is that Shaun has a lunch break around 1PM and we live so close to the school he can come home for lunch and see Craig.

Then a couple of months ago Craig brought home a job bid sheet. Basically it had every job in the warehouse placed on a flowchart -- shifts, days-off, positions. Workers who were interested in moving from their current position were encouraged to bid on every single job they wanted and hopefully their seniority was enough to get them their first choice (provided that particular job opened up because whoever was occupying it had also bid on a job that was open). Craig bid on a ton of jobs, all day-shift, in hopes of landing one with half decent days off. Many postings have split days off where the guy has Tuesday and Thursday off but works Wednesday. Or they'll have 2 days off in the middle of the week but have to work the weekend. We compromised the last go 'round and Craig moved into a job with Friday and Saturday off. Not ideal, certainly, but at least he has one day on the weekend and having Friday off has allowed him to go on a couple of class trips with Shaun and allows me to volunteer in Shaun's classroom occasionally.

September brings full-time school and the whole game changes. This most recent job bid was basically our last shot for Craig to post into a day-shift position before Shaun starts grade 1 in September.

With thirteen years seniority and a lot of senior guys taking a buy-out package offered in the last contract, we were pretty confident Craig would move up the ranks and slide into a day-shift position without question. Well, the results were posted today and Craig didn't get a single position he bid on. Not one.

There's two reasons why this could be: 1. The people analyzing the job bid sheets made a mistake - which has happened in the past - and in actuality someone was awarded a job that Craig should have received because of seniority. In that case it's an easy fix and Craig moves to day shift. OR 2. The jobs Craig would have had the seniority to win, didn't open up because the people currently in those postings chose to stay put.

Craig checked the results and analyzed the list; there were no mistakes made. So now he's working afternoons for a while longer. I'm trying not to show my disappointment to him because the whole thing is out of his hands. It's not his fault he wasn't awarded a day shift job; that's just how it works. But I'm sad. I feel terrible that Shaun won't see his Dad all week unless he races home for lunch one day. I hate that Craig has to miss more bedtime stories and baths and tucking-in and kisses and hugs. It's sad that this whole thing is such a crap shoot and he has no way of knowing whether he'll get awarded a shitty job or a great job so errs on the side of caution and only bids on the better jobs which also have a higher likelihood of needing decades of seniority to slot into.

I'm also angry that I have to continue doing this all by myself. He's wholly present during the hours he's home, don't get me wrong, but with me having the daycare running during the day and Craig being absent at night, I'm doing the Mom thing from 7 in the morning until 8 at night with no breaks in between, and then for another hour while I'm cleaning up and preparing meals, crafts and circletime activities for the following day. It's exhausting and I'd love to have someone to tag-team with; especially at the end of the day when everyone's hungry and tired.

We will certainly make the best of it but that doesn't make it suck any less.

Nuthouse

I'm folding laundry and Shaun walks past me. He's all hunched over to one side and his arms are dangling strangely. Probably something he saw at school and thought was cool.

I ignore him as he passes by a second time. This time his face is all contorted and he's trying his best to pull his lips back and expose his teeth. He's still twisted and tilted to one side as he shuffles past. The third time his pants are around his ankles. I can't ignore him any longer.

"Shaun, are you feeling okay?"

"Sure am, Mom!" He realizes his pants are down and quickly pulls them up.

"You know I'm watching you, right? Do you know what happens to crazy people like you?"

"They go to the Nuthouse. But it's okay, Mom, because I'm just being a banana. I'm not being a crazy person!"

Four Hundred

Today is Family Day. I wish I could say we spent it as a family but Craig's retarded job made him work today. For his regular wage. He had Family Day yesterday. Let's not go there.

I took the opportunity of a rare day off and brought the kids to the Children's Museum for some running and a bubble show. Before I go into details about the afternoon, I have a bone to pick with the Board at the Children's Museum. See, it was always called the Children's Museum. They got millions in funding about 7 or 8 years ago and did a major renovation. Granted, the new space is nice, relatively child friendly, and for whatever reason is now called The Museum. As if there aren't any other Museums. This is The One. As part of our Membership benefits we got free admission to the Royal Ontario Museum a couple of weekends ago (maybe it was last weekend??...) and I showed my membership card to the folks working at the admissions desk.

"One adult and one child?"

"Yes, but I have a membership to an honoured museum for this weekend so I have free admission. Let me just dig out my card."

"What museum is it?" She starts looking through the system for a list.

"Umm, The Waterloo Regional Children's Museum."

"No, sorry I don't see that on the list. Can I see your card?"

I hand the card over. "Ohhhh, it's THE Museum. Yes, you have free admission today."


Frankly, I was a little embarrassed that a puny museum like this one has the gall to call itself The Museum. I'm sure she laughed her head off with her co-worker once I was out of earshot.

Okay, one to today. The bubble show was cool but there were so many rowdy children trying to climb onto the stage and standing up in front of other children who were sitting quietly on the floor that it became hard for the well-behaved children to get anything out of the show. They weren't being picked to be volunteers because there were more pushy kids getting picked. It upsets me because I was always one of the good kids who never got picked, either. I almost want to tell my boys to stand up like the rest of 'em and climb on the stage like the rest of 'em and get picked to stand inside a gigantic bubble like the rest of 'em. Where were these children's parents?! Oh yes, standing in front of me while I rocked a fussy baby and stood on my tippie-toes so I could keep an eye on the Bigs. Overall, it was disappointing but I think the turnout may have been beyond what The Museum had anticipated. There were people sitting on the staircases and overlooking the atrium from 4 floors up. I should just be glad my kids had floor seats.

Dinner's cooking and I have only one more thing: This is my four hundredth post. Blogging since late 2004 has brought me through 400 posts. Yay me!

Family of 5 - To Stay

After much agonizing and soul searching, Craig had his vasectomy appointment on Friday last week. We've known our family is complete but there's something about a vasectomy that is so, I don't know, final. The paperwork says, "This is a permanent form of sterilization," as if there's a non-permanent form. Craig said it was completely worse than he had even feared it would be. I knew it wasn't going to be a cakewalk but three children came out of me! I was all hopped up on drugs for the first one so I must have forgotten what it was like and decided to have a second go of childbirth. Then when number three came along there was no sympathy from anyone anymore. We all knew how this happened and I had no one willing to listen to my complaining.

I spent the weekend basically away with all the kids. The Littles were graciously shipped to my parents' house where they enjoyed the weekend with their youngest cousin; Shaun and I took a day trip to the Royal Ontario Museum on Saturday and then I helped out in my brother and sister-in-law's flower shop on Sunday. Craig had 2 whole days on his own to wallow and recouperate.

I'm a little sad that there's so much finality that comes with a vasectomy. I'm done having kids and am really, really excited for the things we can do with our older children: we'll be done with diapers in just over a year; our big kids can sleep in a tent on their own when we go camping; sleeping in on Saturday morning will be a part of our life again as the boys get older and can be trusted to stay out of trouble on their own downstairs; but that doesn't mean that a small part of me isn't disappointed I'll never be pregnant again or get to make those first happy calls to family members.

This is a new road. A new adventure.

Tubby Time with Slippery, Pee'er and Drinker

It's been ages since I blogged. Rather than rewind, I'm moving forward...

I gave the boys baths tonight. Typically, Shaun showers but lately he's been wanting to hop in with the Littles during their bath. That ended up as a big, wet disaster so tonight he was demoted back to the shower. I could hear a bunch of banging around while I was reading to the Littles and when I finally couldn't stand not-knowing any longer, asked Shaun what he was doing. Well, he had figured out that if he lubed himself up with enough body wash he could slip and slide in the tub like nobody's business. He's lucky he didn't crack his head open! I'm sure he used half the bottle of body wash and now there's a sliminess on the inside of the shower curtain from his excessive self-cleaning. But he sure smells good!

Before Shaun got his shower, the Littles had their bath time. We have these old bubble bath bottles we keep in the toy basket for the boys to use during bath time. Normally they'll fill them up and giggle as the bottles gurgle and sputter when turned over. Tonight Kyle was gulping water out of them. I'm not talking any minor sippage, either. He had his whole mouth over the opening and was chugging like a college freshman at his first frosh party. I'm positive he's going to need a diaper change in the middle of the night after all that drinking. Ian wasn't drinking, thankfully, because he's no longer wearing a diaper to bed (YAY!!), but he was peeing in the tub like he was in kidney failure! The kid would stand up every couple of minutes and pee, and it wasn't no trickle. One time he got Kyle in the face right as Kyle tipped his head back to gulp out of the bottle. Good think Kyle had no idea it was anything but water and Ian was so distracted I don't think he even noticed. It's so funny that he still feels like he has to stand in the tub to pee like he stands at the toilet. I'd prefer that he strictly limit his peeing to the toilet but I've gotta pick my battles. Until Kyle starts to get grossed out by it, I'm not sayin' anything. Just wait until Ian realizes Kyle's peeing in the same tub!

This Week I Learned...

... when I want to clean the gray grime out of the bottom of the dishwasher and choose to use a green pot scrubber, water, and a little teeny tiny bit of dish soap, I should not run a full wash cycle after.

... bubbles on the kitchen floor seep under the dishwasher and down the hole in the floor and into the laundry room.

... bubbles do not just disappear; they pop and become slippery, soapy water.

... when I want to clean said slippery, soapy water, I should make sure I am wearing slip-resistant shoes... or take off my socks and say, "to heck with it," and surf.

... children love to play in water that has appeared in places it would not otherwise be -- like a kitchen floor.

... Kyle screams very loud when he plays in bubbles.

Adoption

How does one explain adoption to a child?

Shaun and I read Robert Munch's book David's Father tonight. David is adopted and Shaun asked me what that meant. My explanation brought him to tears! I totally didn't mean to upset him. I don't know how I could have worded it differently to make it better.

I told him that sometimes when a lady gets pregnant she decides the baby will be happier/healthier with different people so she chooses to have the baby adopted. The baby then goes on to live with his Mommy and Daddy even though he didn't grow in his Mommy's belly. Shaun started sobbing and asked me if he was adopted and if he grew in someone else's belly. I think that just the thought of him having a different Mommy who isn't me was terrifying!

The only thing that may have made it a little better was when I told him that his best school friend is adopted. I don't know for sure, but this little guy has Asian eyes and 100% caucasian parents. He's an only child and his parents are a little older than the others in the class. Shaun's heading to their house on Saturday to play and I'm going with him so hopefully I'll get the full story then. Regardless, they're a wonderful family from what I've seen and Shaun and the boy get along wonderfully.

Mmmmmmmm

Shaun's reading has just taken off recently. I keep saying to Craig that Shaun's seems to have just picked up reading because every night, it seems, he's able to read more difficult words. The strategies he's learning in school are really working.

Shaun was telling me tonight after dinner that the letter they were working on in class last week was the letter M; and the Jolly Phonics action to go with it is rubbing your hand on your tummy and saying, "mmmmmm," like you're eating something yummy. His teacher asks the children to give her a word that starts with the letter M. Shaun is telling me that most of his classmates are saying words like Mackenzie (a girl in his class) or Mom. He puts up his hand and when Mrs. McNaughton calls his name, he says MUCUS. MUCUS! Of all the things that start with the letter M, he had to say MUCUS?? I howled with laughter when he told me that because it's just so typical of Shaun; smart-ass. He tells me that he had to think of something to liven everybody up because the Jolly Phonics is pretty boring since he already knows all his letters. Somehow I don't think MUCUS is a word that his classmates are familiar with; especially if they're still learning the sound that M makes.

Cheese

Two Months Ago

Me: "Kyle, this is cheese. Say, cheese. You're having cheese for snack today. Yummy! Cheese. Ch-eese. Ch, Ch, Ch. Like choo-choo!"

Kyle: "Mah! Mamamamama. Mah!"


One Month Ago

Me: "Kyle, you're eating some cheese. Say, cheese."

Kyle: "Mah! Dah Bah. Mah!"


One Week Ago

Me: "Kyle, do you want some cheese?"

Kyle: nods

Me: "Say, cheese please."

Kyle: nods


Today

Me: "Kyle, do you want some snack?"

Kyle: "Cheese."

Me: "Do you want some cheese for snack?"

Kyle: nods, "Cheese."


I'll be the first to admit that life is so much easier with a child who can communicate what they need and want. IT basically eliminates the need for tears of frustration. But I'm crying tears of sorrow. Kyle's growing up way too quick for me.

Little Number Three is One

Kyle. Chubbers. One year ago I met you for the first time. I had spent the previous 40 weeks plus 6 days agonizing over your arrival. I was trying my best to remember every last kick and nuzzle from you before I had to share you with everyone else.

I diligently folded and re-folded your newborn clothes and reviewed the home birth list once a day, double and triple and quadruple checking to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. Your brothers talked to you whenever I was sitting quietly. They'd chatter about things they wanted to do with you, talk about the cats and your grandparents, and ask you if you were ready to come out yet.

When that day came, and we all met you for the first time, it was as if you'd always been here. I felt an overwhelming surge of love. You sure were in a hurry once we had all decided labor was stalled. Pooja had broken my water at home hours earlier and I was feeling like labor would never get going. Tub, shower, sitting backwards on the toilet, squatting, walking, stairs, bouncing on the trampoline (really!); nothing seemed to be working. I made the decision around 5pm that we were heading to the hospital. I was tired of waiting and was desperate to meet you.

Melissa drove me and you through the busy rush-hour streets while Craig followed behind in the van and Gramma and Grampa stayed with your brothers. She casually chatted about her first apartment and the park where she found a stray kitten while I desperately wished I had stayed at home for only a few minutes longer; the contractions were coming fast and furiously. I was in agony and wasn't sure we were going to make it.

Finally at the hospital, I paused and braced myself on the guardrail outside the main entrance for another strong contraction. With each contraction I could feel you creeping deeper into my pelvis. I knew you'd be here soon. I held it together in the elevator and groaned as another began when the doors opened. Pooja was already in a room, ready and waiting for me to walk in. It was only minutes after I arrived that I couldn't remain standing for my contractions anymore. Pooja kept wanting to get my blood pressure but I kept getting contractions: one after another. I lay on my left side focusing on relaxing during the intense pulling and tightening, and then would take a moment in between to have Melissa post on Facebook that you were coming or to send someone to find Craig (who hadn't arrived yet!).

My body was starting to take over. I needed to relax. I knew the only way you'd come quicker was if I breathed deeply and slowly and relaxed every part of my body. Eyes, mouth, jaw... Craig flew into the room in a flurry of excitement and apologies of how full the parking garage was and all of a sudden, there you were. Your head was born into my mesh underwear. I was still telling myself to relax as my body was introducing you to your new world. Pooja scrambled and frantically ripped the underwear off me as I yelled that you were coming. Moments later I was able to reach under your arms and pull you onto my chest and whisper in your ear, "Nice to meet you, Kyle." I'll never, ever forget that first moment. You barely cried while I sobbed. A perfect, incredible boy. Little number three.

Those first few days are still quite a blur. We went home hours after your birth and introduced you to anxious grandparents and your big brothers. You slept that first night nuzzled next to me and my breast. You figured out how to nurse right away and ate great. My milk came in quickly and you continued to present wet and dirty diapers. Your eating and dirtying wasn't enough, though, and at 5 days old you were admitted to the hospital for jaundice. I stayed with you in the same room and sang you songs and touched your bare skin when you'd start to cry in the incubator. We bonded and I fell in love hard. I ached to be home with your brothers; it was so hard to know the hospital was the best place for you and to feel, in the same moment, that I wanted to be anywhere but there. While we were in the hospital, time stopped. I couldn't see the ground from our room so I had no idea if there was still snow or if flowers were blooming. I lost track of time and what day it was because of the constant blue glow from your incubator. I was allowed to take you out only to feed you and change your diaper. I did what I could to snuggle and would remove my shirt and nurse you in only your diaper, skin to skin. I'd caress your skin and talk softly. I like to think that my voice calmed you because when your sunglasses would go back on I only needed to coo, "you're okay, Momma's right here," and you'd settle right in for another long nap.

Once we got back home, life was back to normal and a newborn had been thrown into the mix. Shaun still had school, Craig still had work, Ian was still, well, Ian, and I started to feel less and less like myself. I was going through the motions and doing what I thought I should be doing but felt like I just wanted to find a hole and disappear into it. The spiral began. I sought out a counsellor who had experience with post partum depression, started to open up some of how I was feeling to Craig and on here, and slowly found my way back to being okay. Things are much better now but some days I still feel that darkness lurking on the other side of a bad day. Having three children who need me has helped me to push all that away.

And you, Kyle, you have made having three boys so much better than I could have ever imagined. You are patient, sooo patient. Waiting for everything and never complaining. It helps that your brothers try their best to entertain you while you're waiting for me, but even if they're not around you find ways to entertain yourself. You love to play with balls and will throw and chase the green Waste Management one until it gets stuck under something and then come and find me and hollar, "bah, bah," until I figure out where it's hiding. You still have a suckie. A green one and a blue one made by Born Free. And they have to be the ones without handles. I've spent hoards of money on all kinds of other suckies but these are the only two you will accept. If we ever lose them, we're done for. You have a favourite blankie, who as of yet does not have an official name. It's the white one from Shaun's school friend, Vanessa, that has a fuzzy, soft side and an animal print on the other side. You like to rub the soft side in your fingers as you're falling asleep.

Sleep, yes, you're a sleeper. At one year old you still have three naps a day. An hour and a half in the morning beginning around 9, two hours in the afternoon beginning around 12:30, and then another half hour at dinner time. Sometimes I even have to wake you up from your third nap because you'd sleep the night away and completely skip dinner. You've never had an issue going to sleep and are willing to sleep pretty much anywhere... except the car. For whatever reason, you fight sleep in the car until your eyes are red and rolling and your head is bobbing. Then when sleep finally wins the battle, you'll only stay sleeping for half and hour before you're awake and ready to rock n roll.

We've decided your nickname is Chubbers, although Ian calls you Kyle-Boo. He figured out that nickname all on his own and calls you that more than anything. You really are chubby. Moreso than either of the other boys. At one year old you're over 24 pounds and starting to grow out of some of your 18 month clothes.

For the past 2 months you've been crawling. It's like you would practice in your sleep because one evening you just... crawled. No little strides here or there, you just went. Within half an hour you were going from bedroom to bedroom and now you're so fast you can chase Shaun and Ian around the house.

You talk, too. I'd guess you probably have 10 words but it seems like there's new sounds coming out of your mouth every day so it could be more and I just don't realize it. Your favourite things to say are definitely Bye-Bye and BooBoo. Bye-Bye is accompanied by an adorable wave, complete from wrist to fingertips. BooBoo is our dumb fat cat who seems to love you just as much as you love her. Probably because you feed her. Oh yes, I see you feed her even though I'm sure you'd swear up and down that you do nothing of the sort. She lurks under your highchair and you'll casually drop things off your tray and then glance in my direction to see if I noticed. Sometimes if you don't drop things quickly enough, BooBoo will climb onto my chair at the table and nonchalantly put her nose on the edge of your tray as a reminder. Daddy and I scratch our heads over how she never loses any weight even though we continue to feed her less and less; I know why but can't bring myself to make you stop. It's too damn cute!

Kyle, you have brought something to our family that we didn't even realize was missing until you were here. You're completely perfect, completely adorable and completely ours. We love you!

Toddler Impulse

Ian is a toddler and I know that toddlers sometimes have impulses they cannot control, but I think I'm going to have some uncontrollable impulses if his destructive behavior continues!

Without a doubt, Ian is THE most challenging child I have ever come across. He is BUSY, to put it nicely. This afternoon in a matter of minutes he was able to colour on Kyle's highchair with a red crayon, destroy my chapstick, and dump salt all over the salad I had prepared for dinner.

He had a crayon because he had promised me he would only colour on his paper. A little background: colouring on things other than paper has been a major issue for Ian. He's managed to colour on walls, tables, his body, the highchair, my shoes, and multiple books. We've always dealt with his destructive colouring in the past by taking away the crayons for a period of time. Then when crayons are reintroduced we'll review the rules (which he clearly knows and will tell us without us having to say them first). Ultimately he ends up colouring on something within minutes of having his sneaky little hands back on the crayons - or whatever it is he's using. We've tried Aquadoodle even and all he does is open the pen, pour out all the water and then play in it. Even pencil crayons are used to colour books and walls. I'm at my wit's end. I think he's grounded from anything-plus-paper for a very, very long time. Like, until he's 30 I'm thinking.

The chapstick was inside my purse, in an interior zipper pocket which was zipped closed; my purse was zipped closed and sitting on the hall table. It's always been the same rule: don't touch anything on the hall table. Usually there's keys there, my purse and sometimes something that needs to be returned or exchanged plus its receipt. The hall table is off limits. Ian was reading books - or so I thought. When I returned from putting away laundry he was sitting at the bottom of the stairs, his finger knuckle-deep into my chapstick tube and his face was covered with shiny, strawberry scented grease. Along with his whole hand, most of his chin and neck, and all over his new shirt.

The salt was partly my fault but again, I think his impulses just take over and he can't stop himself. Ian was sitting on the counter helping me make dinner - my first mistake. I was cutting vegetables and preparing items for our salad and Ian was placing them in the pot or the bowl - wherever they belonged - my second mistake. I use a dish - my third mistake - of Kosher salt and use my fingers to sprinkle it on our food instead of regular iodized salt in a shaker (the reason is for a whole other post) and Ian took the dish of salt and, in a split second, dumped the whole container of salt on the salad. I shouted and asked him what he was doing. He answered that he was putting some salt on the salad. Like, duh, I guess.

So that's my day in a nutshell. Same as all the other days. I spend it tidying and cleaning up and Ian follows behind me dumping and drawing and, well, being a toddler I suppose. It's going to take years off my life, I just know it!

Old Mother Hubbard

Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To fetch her poor dog a bone;

But when she got there
Her cupboard was bare
And so her poor dog had none.


Gee, that seems to reign true in my life today. To rewind, I was due to do groceries on Monday or Tuesday last week. After looking through the freezer on Sunday last week I decided we had more than enough to get us through until Thursday or even Friday and only bought some essentials, like, milk, bread, cheese, and some fresh veggies. Thursday came and I wasn't feeling too well; a cold was coming on and my throat was terribly sore. Friday was deemed grocery day because I was sure I'd be feeling better by then; besides Craig's home on Fridays so I wouldn't have to drag the circus with me.

Friday arrived and I was feeling like a used bag of pucks. My throat was red and inflamed and I was starting to feel like I was getting the flu. You know the kind where your skin hurts, your hair hurts and any amount of standing or walking puts you into fits of dizziness. We also had tickets to go out Friday night (New Year Eve ya know). I made an appointment to see the on-call doctor and get my throat taken care of (thank-you penicillin) and spent the rest of the day in bed. My grocery list lay on the table at the front door.

Saturday came, I was feeling better and grocery stores were closed.

Now it's Sunday. I'm not even kidding you when I say there's no food in the house. If I had my way I would have run out first thing this morning and picked up at least some coffee and milk to get us through breakfast. I managed to dig a juice box out of the camping stuff so at least the kids had juice with their toast; and I had a bag of prunes in the fridge so they had an element of fruitishness. I'm afraid to see the final bill this morning at the grocery store!

*Hic*

Shaun's breathing funny. I know why.

Me: Shaun, do you have the hiccups? You're breathing weird and holding your breath.

Shaun: No.

Me: Then why are you breathing like that? You only breathe like that when you have the hiccups.

Shaun: No, Mom. I don't *hic* have the hiccups.

Me: See? I knew it! I know you so well, I knew you had the hiccups before you even knew yourself.

Shaun: That's not true, Mom! I knew *hic* I had the hiccups. I just forgot.