Overwhelmed Much?

I never want to complain about my kids.  I am blessed to have all three of those beautiful little miracles but..... just because I'm thankful for them doesn't mean that life suddenly becomes easy.  Today is what I call a "drowning day".  This was one of those days where I feel like no matter how hard I try I cannot seem to keep up with life or accomplish anything. My "to do" list feels endless.  This is not a list of projects I would like to do, these are things that I have to do. Things like grocery shopping, washing the peed on sheets, emptying the Diaper Genie before we all throw up from the smell.  Oh, and laundry.  Now I'm not talking washing clothes and then folding them nicely and putting them away.  I'm simply talking about getting them clean in a heap at the bottom of the basement stairs.  At least we have clean clothes.... good luck finding your outfit in that heap..... and don't look at me if it desperately needs ironing.  Seriously, next time you are with any one of my family members take a look at our clothes.  Guaranteed we will be wearing something wrinkled.  I am not proud of this.  I am not proud of the fact that most of them time our laundry does get folded is because my mom was over watching the kids and she folded it for me.  My kids already know the drill when I tell them Grandma is coming over.  We go into code red cleaning mode.  My daughter will run around the house putting things away saying, "we have to clean up before Grandma gets here otherwise she'll have to clean the whole time she's here!"  I will admit, while hanging my head low, that sometimes when I know my mom is coming I'll drop a few things off my endless "to do" list because I know that she will help me out by doing them without me even asking.  Does that make me a bad daughter? Sigh. Some weeks I don't even care if it does because, truth be told, I am exhausted about 98% of the time.  I don't think my hubby or myself have had more than five hours a sleep per night for the last few weeks.... and, no, those five hours are not in a row.  They are broken up between one kid who can't sleep because they are coughing, one kid who has peed the bed, one who is teething and screaming, one who had a bad dream, one who is too hot and then one who is thirsty.  I know what you are thinking, "you only have three kids and you just listed six different reasons that they wake up at night".  Rest assured, all six of these things can easily come up in one night.  And, on those really frustrating nights, they all come from one kid.  Does anyone out there know what it feels like to wake up feeling well rested?  If so, can you just explain it to me?  I think the mere description might be enough to get me through a day.  I can vaguely remember lazy Saturday mornings when I slept until my body ached because it had been laying down too long.  My body still aches now when I wake up but that's because I did a bazillion squats just getting in and out of bed and then pulled a few muscles trying to cuddle in a small bed with a squirming kid and then topped it all off with whacking my head of the bunk bed while trying to sneak back to my bed.  Oh ya, and the sound of my scull impacting the hard wooden bed (why didn't we buy one made of particle board!) woke the kid up.  Commence fitting into a small bed with a squirming kid.  Sigh.

My hubby and I are celebrating our 10th anniversary next month and we are celebrating by dumping the kids at grandma's house (ha ha ha ha ha *see paragraph above to understand laughter) and staying at a hotel for the night.  We were able to get an early check-in at the hotel.  I don't know about you but in my younger years I always imagined checking into a hotel with my husband and ripping each others clothes off the moment we arrived (sorry if you're reading this mom..... and my husband's mom.....) but when we found out we could get an early check-in we were both excited because we could take an afternoon nap!  And, no, nap is not code for anything.  We just want a few hours of totally uninterrupted sleep so that one of us doesn't fall asleep during dinner.  Isn't that romantic?

I think that pretty much sums up this sleep deprived rant.... plus I can hear another kid waking up coughing.  Kids are wonderful and they really truly are a blessing but if you are raising some and you find yourself feeling a little overwhelmed and sleep deprived like me, you are not alone.  Let us moms unite as we daily take up our battle with our cups of coffee as our sword.  We will win this battle and one day we will realized that we are drinking less coffee and getting more sleep and that our kids have turned into strong, independent, confident, smart and compassionate adults because we never gave up.  Never give up.  Next time you run into a friend who's a mom give her a hug and buy her a cup of coffee and remind her that she is not alone.  Remind her that there a millions of us all over the world who feel just like her.  And remind her to look her little miracles in the eye and remember that it's all worth it. 

The Lasts of the Firsts

Tonight my baby boy fell asleep in my arms.  I sat there snuggling him and thinking about the past few weeks.  I'm sure he is growing up exponentially faster than his older sister and brother.  Last week we took him out of his baby car seat because one more week of him in that thing would have sent me to physiotherapy for arm and neck strains.  Now that baby seat is sitting in my laundry room.  It looks lonely.  For the past five and a half years it has been transporting our babies places or sitting in the crawl space anticipating the next arrival.  I remember the day we bought it and brought it home.  I carried it around the house pretending that the baby in my belly was sitting all snuggled up in that seat.  When L arrived I was so excited to strap her into it and take her home.  My hubby walked tall and proud out of the hospital carrying his new baby girl.  We argued over who got to carry it into church the first Sunday after L was born because we were both so proud to show her off.  These same situations happened two more times.  And now, the last baby is growing up and that car seat is no longer needed.  I know it seem ridiculous to feel so sentimental about a car seat but I am slowly realizing that certain phases of our life are finishing and will be gone forever.  I am so amazingly blessed that I got to tell my hubby that I was pregnant three times.  Then I got to feel three little people rolling, kicking and dancing inside of me.  Then we got to meet those little people for the first time.  Three times we got to bring a baby home.  Three times I got to snuggle a newborn that smelled like baby soap and Pampers.  Three times I got to see a baby smile for the first time, sit for the first time, stand for the first time.  There are so many precious memories of my babies firsts that are now memories of the last time we will see those things.  It's bittersweet really.  We are content with our family of five and we are looking forward to new and exciting stages of life but it's a little bit hard to let some of the "firsts" go.  I hope I remember to take the time to be in the moment.  To take the time to really remember what it felt like, smelled like, sounded like.  If I could give any advice to other moms it would be to stop.  Just stop.  Think about where you are.  You are the only person in the world who gets to be the mommy to that baby who just laid eyes on you for the first time.  You are the only person in the world who gets to be mommy to that baby that just smiled at you for the first time.  Do we really understand what that means?  This is where it all happens and this is the stuff that at the end of our lives we are going to care about.  This is life.  

So, tonight as I snuggled my baby boy I realize how big he was in my arms and then I realized that soon he will be even bigger.  So, I sat there.  I just held him in my arms and I felt his warm little body and listened to his quiet little breaths.  At that moment I was the only person in the world who got to snuggle that little boy.  This is life and I'm not going to take it for granted.

Let the Oatmeal Burn

This morning I was sitting on my comfy chair drinking my coffee when my three year old came up beside me and asked for a snuggle.  I scooped him up into my lap and he laid his little head on my shoulder.  We were snuggling for about a minute when I realized that the oatmeal on the stove was starting to bubble and I needed to stir it.  I was about to tell my little guy that I needed to put him down to go stir the oatmeal when I paused. So often I am running from one thing to the next.  My kids are so good to me and they easily come along with me as we run errands, grocery shop, clean the house, etc...  In fact they are so good I fear that I sometimes take them for granted.  I go about my busy life dragging the kids here and there, asking them to wait just a moment while I finish up one last email or while I respond to a text message.  They patiently wait which is a good virtue to teach my kids but do they spend more time waiting then they should?  I think they do.  It's time to ignore some things in life.  It's time to push distractions away when one of them asks to cuddle, or to play a game or for help with a drawing.  It's time to get rid of some things in life that make it so busy.  It's time to let the oatmeal burn because my little boy will not always want to snuggle with me on the big comfy chair.

This morning the oatmeal burned and I will gladly scrape the pot later.

One of Those Days

Have you ever had one of those days that just beats you up?  Those days when your toddler seems to yell about everything.  Those days when your big kid does something to make you burst into tears and then giggles.  Those days when your baby doesn't want to nap or decides to wake up from his nap when you are in the middle of something you have been trying to get to for weeks. Those days when you cannot even go to the bathroom without someone coming in and asking you for something. Those days when you are trying to clean the house and it seems to be getting dirtier as you are working.  Those days when you realize that you have much to do and have no idea how you are going to get it done.  Those days when you feel like everyone's servant.  Those days when you are frustrated and take it out over the phone on your spouse who is at work and who really hasn't done anything wrong.  Those days when you realize you haven't been out without your kids for weeks.  Those days when you feel invisible.

I love being a mom.  I love being a wife.  I count it a huge blessing that I get to stay home with my kids.  But some days I feel like I have somehow lost myself.  On days like this there is only so much I can do about it.  I cannot leave and sit peacefully at Starbucks by myself.  I cannot ignore the needs of the three little people living in my house.  I cannot demand that my husband come home from work and help me.  The only thing I can do is pick myself off the floor, wipe the tears away, take a big breath, say a prayer of desperation, and keep going.  I'll keep going because, even though I feel like I have lost myself, one thing I have not lost is the freedom to choose happiness in moments that otherwise can be overwhelming.  I can do it.  And, if you ever find yourself in a moment like this, you can do it too.

It Started With A Tree

I am amazed at how life changes once you have kids.  Every parents finds themselves rudely awakened to the practical parts of life that change like unpredictable nights, how much diapers cost, loosing the ability to be truly spontaneous.  I could go on and on and on but today I'm thinking about something a little different than just the obvious changes.  I'm thinking about those changes that occur so subtly that you don't even know they are happening until one day you stop and it all catches up to you.  This week I have had a few people over to our house for coffee.  I found myself no longer running around frantically trying to clean everything up before they arrived.  This house is where my family lives and this is what life looks like.  My bathrooms haven't been cleaned in longer than I am willing to admit, there are random puzzle pieces scattered around the floor, there is certainly a diaper laying in the hallway, and my bedroom is cluttered with laundry baskets that will (lets be honest) probably sit there until all the clothes are worn and have to be washed again.  Then there is the Christmas tree in the basement..... it cost $30 new.  Yep, imagine how that looks.  If you are imagining a short, spindly, sparse and very fake looking tree, you are indeed correct.  Not only that but there are colored lights on it!  I swore I would never EVER have colored lights in my house.  But, my little girl looked at me one day and asked why we didn't have any pretty colored lights.  Then she asked me if she could please help me decorate the tree.  We now have a spindly, multicolored, mismatched tree in the corner of our basement and you know what? I love it.  Don't get me wrong, I think it is super ugly however, when I look at that tree I don't think about how unappealing it is to the eye.  I think about the smile on my little girl's face when I plugged in the lights and all the colors filled her eyes.  This evening when I went to unplug that three I couldn't help but smile because when I saw it I was reminded that two little children I love more than life itself are the reason that tree is there.

Earlier today I was given a late birthday present.  I was given an afternoon by myself with some shopping money.  At first I was over the moon excited because, as much as I love my kids, I needed a bit of time to myself.  I went to a few stores and tried on some things but the more I shopped the more miserable I felt.  When I first got married we had two incomes so when we wanted something we just went out and bought it because the money was there.  Since we have had our three kids I no longer work and so we have to budget one income to cover the expenses of living in the city and having three kids.  Money has been tight and we often cannot go and purchase many of the things we would like to.  As a result, my wardrobe has been shrinking at a considerable rate and I was really excited for the opportunity to replenish it and maybe even feel in style for once.  As I walked though store after store I was over whelmed.  Do I buy some shoes or do I buy clothes?  Do I buy casual clothes since that's what I live in these days or am I only living in casual clothes because I do not have anything else?  My head was swimming and by the end of three hours I had one $12 item.  All of a sudden I just wanted to be home.  I got back in my vehicle and a few minutes later I walked in my front door.  As I walked in I heard my little boy excitedly yell that he was a jack-in-the-box and I saw my baby boy sitting comfortably on Grandma's lap.  I saw lego scattered on one side of the room and I saw books scattered on the coffee table.  I felt like I was exactly where I belonged.  I picked up my little boy and squeezed him tight and I realized that he didn't care what I was wearing..... in that moment neither did I.  I realize that this sounds like a very dramatic response to a simple shopping trip but I think it was simply God speaking to my heart to remind me what is important.  I think it was His way to help me find my way back to the blessings I often take for granted.  I will eventually go back to the mall and I will spend that money because, lets face it, I'm a girl and I do like nice shiny new clothes but that's not what I needed on this day. 

As I scroll through Facebook and look at all the pictures of people's beautifully decorated homes and yummy Christmas baking I am reminded that I don't have to feel inadequate when I compare myself to other people.  So, please, keep posting those lovely pictures because I enjoy getting a peak at your wonderful skills in the kitchen and I love being able to sneak a peak at your creative holiday traditions but this year is going to be a little different.  This year I will celebrate with you but I will not be trying to keep up to you because this year I will be sitting in the Christmas cookie-less colored glow of that Christmas tree counting my blessings because..... those blessings have changed me.

It's Tough Being a Parent

I doubt there is anyone in the world who wouldn't agree that being a parent is the toughest job in the world.  Everyday you need to learn and adapt.  It tests your patience and it calls out your selfishness.  There is never a moment that your child isn't on your mind and that alone is exhausting.  You have to fight with your mind to not think about all the things that could go wrong.  You have to trust that God is there to take care of your kids when you cannot.  Everyday you are asked questions that you have no idea how to answer but you have a little face staring at you waiting for the endless knowledge that you are supposed to have.  On the bad days you find yourself holding your child wondering if it is time to take them to the hospital and on the worst days you find yourself holding them wondering if what they faced that day will haunt them for years to come.  Sometimes it is stressful figuring out what type of first aid to administer to the latest boo boo and sometimes it is terrify trying to explain why those kids laughed at them and broke their little heart.  Then there are the moments when you have to explain things like pain, abuse, and death to little minds that cannot stay innocent forever.  Why are my friend's mommy and daddy not living together anymore?  Why do I need to stay away from strangers?  What does it mean when someone dies?  Why did those girls laugh at me? 

Sometimes being a parent means having your heart screaming at the world wondering why.  Why does life sometimes hurt?  Why don't I have the answers for all the questions my kids ask?  Why do I sometimes feel overwhelmed?  Why do I always seem too busy to enjoy the moments that keep passing away far too quickly?  Why can't this parenting thing be easier? ..........

........ Am I a good mother?

To all the moms out there who do not have it all together, yes, you are a good mother.  A good mother loves her kids.  A good mother has sleepless nights wondering about her kids.  A good mother gets food on the table even if it is mac and cheese for the fifth time this week.  A good mother hugs her kids when they need it.  A good mother sometimes has to tell her kids that she does not have the answer to their question.  A good mother doesn't always have everything on her Pinterest page completed ;)  A good mother simply. loves. her. kids.

What prompted this?  A car ride.

T:  Mommy, I dropped by airplane!
Me: Sorry buddy but you will have to wait until we get home cause mommy can't get it while we drive.
L: Here T, you can have my teddy bear.
T: (takes the bear and snuggles it close)
L: Mommy, I gave T my bear because sometimes it is better to think about others before yourself.  Look how happy my brother looks, Mommy. (big smile on her face)
Me: (tears) 

Perhaps I might be a good mom after all..... I bet you are too.

Yellow Day

I had a superstar mom moment this morning. That's right, I was a superstar.  I figure I spend so much time and energy feeling like I never quite get the mom thing right that I decided to take a moment and celebrate that I did good. 

Today was yellow day in L's kindergarten class.  This morning she decided to stay in her pj's until about 11:30 (she is in afternoon kindergarten).  When she went to get dressed she realized that none of her clothes are yellow.  Seriously, none of them!  So we went on a hunt for something yellow to wear.  We were coming up empty until, out of desperation, we decided to look through my drawers.  Well, I did indeed have a yellow shirt however, a medium adult shirt is beyond big on a thin five year old.  So, I got out the old needle and thread.  With 20 minutes to work I managed to alter the shirt to make it look kinda like a little dress.  Not too bad.  And L was thrilled :)

I thought the back looked super cute!

The End of an Era

I am so happy that L is enjoying her first week in kindergarten.  She is so ready for it!  I am very proud of the little girl she has become and I can't wait to see how so grows and matures throughout the school year.  However, as I watched her walk into the doors of the school this week the reality of what was happening hit me like a ton of bricks.  When she walked in those doors it truly was the end of an era.  It's the end of my time as a mom with little kids.  We are no longer in the toddler years with endless days of play dates and naps and we are no longer in the preschool years with school only two mornings a week.  We are now in the school days with school every single day..... for the next 12 years.  Our schedule is no longer our own.  We can no longer take the entire day and do whatever we feel like.  I do love schedules and the stability they provide however, until this week, I made the schedule, not someone else.  Life is truly moving on and my kids really are growing up.  It makes me tear up a little.... or a lot.  I found myself several times this week wanting to yell, "Stop!  Time, stop moving forward so quickly! Let me go back, slow down and truly enjoy those years just like everyone told me to.  I took it for granted that I would have endless days to enjoy.  I wished them away too fast!" But, no matter how much or how loudly I yell, Time stops for no one.  It's time to pick up those broken pieces of my heart and put them back together again so that I can soak up this stage of life so I don't miss any more than I feel like I already have.

First day of Kindergarten

L beside her apple tree

Learning to Make A Difference

A few months ago L was watching commercials during some morning show that was on while I was working out.  The commercial was for an organization called the Children's Rehabilitation Foundation and it was advertising their annual Crusin' Down the Crescent event.  It helps to raise funds which provide children with disabilities with services that enable them to live with independence and ability in their own homes, schools and communities.  It's a great organization.  At the end of the commercial the narrator said, "You can make a difference!".  L turned and looked me in the eye and said, "I can make a difference?" My heart instantly melted as I told her that yes, she could make a difference and then proceeded to tell her what the event was and what the money was for.  I asked if she wanted to participate and without hesitation she agreed.  Over the next few weeks she raised $150 and began to get very excited about the event.  The day of the event was a nice warm Sunday morning.  Our whole family decided to participate together.  L rode her bike, my hubby put on his running shoes to chase her, and I (and baby bump) pushed T in the stroller.  When we arrived L got a t-shirt to wear and there were activities and games for the kids before the opening ceremonies.  When the walk began L was very excited to begin with the huge crowd.  Along the route they had performers singing and playing musical instruments, water stations, snacks being handed out, and (thankfully for me!) porta-potties.  I only had to stop three times all morning to pee ;)  About 20 minutes into our cruise L looked at me with a big grin and said, "I never knew it would be THIS much fun!"


We never did check to see how long this cruise was (I cannot figure out why) and we eventually realized it was 10kms long!  Lucky for us 10km was the goal (5 to the destination and 5 back) and people were encouraged to do just as much as they could.  I was VERY proud of our little troupers, they made it 9km!  L biked pretty much the entire way with about a 1km ride in the stroller and T was very content in the stroller but he ran about the last 3 or 4kms.  When we arrived at the finish line there was a group of people waiting with bells and whistles (literally) cheering for us.  We arrived on our own (not with a larger group of participants) and L was in awe that all these people were cheering just for her.  They gave her high fives and a big goody bag.  I don't know that I have ever seen her smile like that before.  She was so proud of herself.  I was so glad that I was wearing sunglasses because I was in tears watching my little girl so proud of herself for making a difference.

Ready to Make a Difference!

L was thrilled that the street was shut down the vehicles so she could ride her bike as fast as she wanted.

It wouldn't be a complete day if we didn't stop to pick some dandelions.

T was so excited to get out of his stroller.

Arriving at the finish line after 9kms!

Feeling pretty good about finishing.

All done for this year but I'm sure we will be back again next year!

Let the Sharing Begin

Well, it may be that time.... time for the kiddos to start sharing a room.  I will admit that I have been dreading this.  One is a wonderful sleeper but the other is not so good.  Because T just turned two I was hesitant to get bunk beds so we decided to go with two low profile beds.  I picked them out months ago and then dragged hubby to IKEA to pick them up.  Hubby spent a Sunday afternoon assembling one of the beds with two little "helpers".  Once the first bed was assembled we quickly realised that two beds were not going to work in that bedroom.  Once both were in there would only be about 6 inches between the beds.  Hmmmm, not exactly ideal.... or functional.  So, my poor hubby had to dis-assemble and drag the beds all the way back to the store.  Poor guy spent the entire day dealing with those beds with nothing to show for it. 

After that little "episode" I finally admitted that bunk beds may be our best option.  So, off to the store we went.  After looking around we found an amazing deal on a nice set of bunk beds that also split apart to become two separate beds.  So, each kid got a new bed in their room.  Here's my theory: we will teach T to sleep in his bed before we move him in with L so that neither kid will lose sleep.  Well, that theory is seriously being tested and not holding up very well.  It's been two months and T is still not staying in bed very well.  Bedtime lasts two to three hours every night.... for the last two months! Ahhhhh.  The strange thing is that nap time is going fine.  Why are kids so weird??  When he does sleep, he is sooooo adorable in his bed.  He looks like the sweetest littlest boy. (insert heart melting here).


The last week seems to have marked a turnaround in T's bedtime.  After we read him stories and give him cuddles in his rocking chair we put him in his bed and leave the room.  He then calls for us for about 10 minutes before he simply goes quiet.  When we check on him later he is never in his bed!  I found him curled up on his rocking chair once, then we found him on top of his baby gate and now we have been finding him on the floor.  When we find him we put him in his bed and he usually sleeps the entire night except for one time when he woke up and went back to the floor!

So, we have a new theory now.  Maybe sharing L's room will make him feel safe and secure enough to sleep soundly in his bed.... at least, that's the theory.  If you know me you have probably noticed that I need to re-decorate a room any time things change.  I have planned the kids new room out, bought all the bits and pieces to put it all together.  So, now I just have to find the time and motivation........

Quirky Kid

I am not sure what to think of my little son.  Don't get me wrong, I love him and think he is the greatest little guy in the whole world.  He makes me laugh at his funny little walk, he makes my heart melt when he comes to me frequently throughout the day for little snuggles, and he makes me cringe when he eats the bar of soap in the bathtub.  However, he has one little quirk that I just don't know what to think of.  When he was a baby, loud noises seemed to really bother him.  I didn't think much of it since he was so little and I figured he would eventually grow out of it.  I know that there are lots of kids afraid of the vacuum cleaner or blender but my little boy seems to be a little bit more extreme with the things that frighten him. For example, the other day someone started mowing their lawn during our dinner time.  The patio door was open so we could hear it in our house.  T absolutely lost it.  Now, I should clarify that the mower was far away, I would say almost a block but apparently that was not far enough for our little scaredy cat.  It was a beautiful summer evening and I had to go close all the windows in the house to block out the sound so he would calm down.  Now imagine what the vacuum and blender do to him.  I have to vacuum the entire house while holding his 22lb body that is trying to scurry up my arms onto my head, the farthest point from the vacuum.  When I blow dry my hair he sits on the floor with tears streaming down his little face.  Lucky for him I have super thin hair and it drys quite quickly.  Then there is his excited sister who occasionally lets out a high pitched excited boy-band-groupie screech.  That just about causes T to loose his mind. 

I thought this phobia was limited to sounds until today.  I set up a little tent for the kids that has a tunnel coming out the side of it.  T will have nothing to do with the tent, nor the tunnel.  I don't know if it's because he doesn't know who or what might be in it or if he is just unsure as to where the tunnel leads but we cannot get him in it.  I thought it would be fun to climb through the tunnel to show him that I come out the other end.  As soon as my head disappeared into the tunnel T lost his marbles (even though my entire back end was still hanging out.... it's a tunnel for kids).  He screamed like a crazy person until I came out the other side, which took quite a long time since I really didn't fit in the tunnel and I got stuck which caused me to have to stand up (tunnel still attached to me) and shimmy out of the silly thing. 

I guess these are just strange little quirks that we either wait for him to grow out of or we simply just warn his future wife.  I just hope I don't have to carry him around while I vacuum until he moves out or, worse yet, I hope his wife doesn't have to carry him around while she vacuums!

Picture by Tammy Engel Photography

I am not the best mom :(

Over the last few weeks I have not been feeling like the best mom in the world..... yes, I do have some pretty amazing days where I think perhaps I may be the best mom in the world but then the next day arrives and I am deeply humbled by something that occurs.  Whether it's one of my kids throwing themselves on the ground in a temper tantrum in public, or L teaching a smaller kid some of her bad habits, or L asking loudly "Is that a man or a woman?" in the grocery store, whatever it is, I never feel like a super mom for very long.  Over the past few weeks L has been going through a "phase", as us mothers like to call it.  She went from being a pretty good listener to not listening at all.  Not only does she not listen, but she has learned the art of talking back.  If you know me at all you will know that nothing gets me angrier than a kid talking back to me.  Whether it happens in a classroom with someone elses kid or whether it happens at home with my own kid, it makes me livid.  My first reaction is to put them promptly in their place however, this is usually not the best course of action with a small child.  So, my approach with L has been to simply pick her up, place her in her bedroom and calmly tell her that if she cannot talk nicely and be a good listener then she cannot play with the rest of the family.  This sometimes works and she stays in her room and comes out a while later calm and collected and begins listening pretty well.  Other times, this results in a full out temper tantrum where I have to stand in the hallway holding her door shut for over half an hour. Sigh.  In addition to all of this my sweet little boy is beginning to have moments where he is not so sweet.  He has discovered temper tantrums..... hmmm, I wonder where he learned those?  The nice thing is that he knows what he wants which is a pretty good quality to have and I'm hoping that once he has some words and is able to actually communicate through more then just gestures and screams then the temper may fizzle out a little.  Hope.

We seem to be slowly emerging from this "phase" but even through it there have been many moments when I think, "Ok, maybe we are doing something right".  When L sees a car accident she immediatley asks if she can pray for the people in the cars.  When we are at the grocery store she often suggests that we should buy some extra to give to someone who doesn't have any food to eat.  When she goes to the playgound and encounters another little girl she says, "Hi, my name is L.  Do you want to play with me?" And then there is T.  He is always ready for a giggle.  If one of us starts laughing, he will join right in.  When he climbs onto the dining room table without me seeing he grins from ear to ear when I find him.  When he finally gets ahold of the computer mouse, after trying all day long, he smiles proudly and hands it back over to me without being asked.

So, maybe I'm not the world's best mom........ ok, I'll admit that I am definately not the world's best mom...... but I am trying to be the best mom I can be.  Some days are great, some are awful.  My kids know I am not perfect but they also know that I love them, that I am not afraid to say sorry when I mess up, and that I need God's help, grace, and mercy every single day.  I got some wonderful advice from a book I read recently called Making Children Mind Without Loosing Yours by Kevin Leman.  He talks about the importance of having real prayer time with your kids.  He encourages parents to let their kids hear them ask God for help with their weaknesses.  Every night L hears me pray, "God, help Mommy to know how to love and teach L and T.  When I do things that are wrong help me to know how to make them right.  Help me love them like you love do.  Give Mommy wisdom and patience because I cannot be a good mommy without you.  Amen."
I mean every word of that prayer.

The Story of My Birthday Boy

I am having a lot of difficulty comprehending where the last year has gone.  One year ago today Dean and I were blessed with our little baby boy and today we have a busy, energetic, happy one year old.  Even though he has already been with us an entire year he still seems new to me.  Perhaps that is because every day he is learning new things and surprising me with what he can now climb on to.  Or, perhaps it is because I am having trouble letting my baby turn into a toddler.  I have absolutely loved having a baby around our house this past year. 

Since today is all about our little T, I thought I would share the story about the day he was born.  My kids seem to feel the need to enter the world with a little drama ;)  Last year, on March 1, I waited all morning for a phone call from the hospital.  I was supposed to get induced..... finally.  I waited all morning and then finally ran out of patience early in the afternoon.  I called the hospital myself and was told that there was no room for me today and I would have to wait until tomorrow.  Grrrrr.  But then, around 5:00pm the hospital called back.  After confirming that it was me on the phone the lady on the other end said, "Would you like to have your baby tonight?" I hung up (after saying yes, of course) and immediately called Dean at work to get him to hightail it home.  After kissing L goodbye and sending her off with my mom, Dean and I finally arrived at the hospital at 7:00pm.  By 7:30ish they induced me with, what has become know in our house as "the gel".  This gel is supposed to help things move along naturally.  Typically, after administering "the gel" you stay in the hospital for about an hour to be monitored and then you get sent home and told to come back when you go into labour naturally (usually within a few hours).  I was super hungry at this point so Dean and I decided that when they sent us home we were going to go out and get something to eat.  Well,  I was 42 weeks pregnant and starving, so right after getting "the gel" I sent Dean to find a food court and bring me back some food.  He was gone for about 10 minutes when I realized that we were not going to be sent home.  I was having rather uncomfortable contractions every 3 or 4 minutes.  They got worse quite rapidly so I started texting Dean and telling him to get back to me.  The nurse came in, looked at my chart and said, "We will observe you a little longer and then you can go home".  I started at her in utter amazement...... how could a nurse, who worked on the labour and delivery floor not recognise a woman in labour.  By the time Dean got back I was sweating up a storm and had decided that I was too tired to have a baby today and that we should just come back tomorrow.  When he realized that contractions were coming every 2 minutes he very sweetly broke the news to me that going home was no longer an option.  Yes, I already knew that, but with every contraction that hit I was reminded of my labour with L that, to this day, I can only describe as horrific.  Even though I knew I was in pretty serious labour, we could not convince the nurse.  Finally another nurse came by, took one look at me and got things rolling to get me officially admitted.  About two hours after they put on "the gel" I finally got into a very nice private room.  I immediately met the nurse that was going to be with me during labour and she asked if I was thinking about having any pain relievers.  I told her that I wanted an epidural, NOW.  She gave me a look that said, "Ok there, you wuss".  I kidd you not, she really did.  Well, that looked was wiped right off her face after she hooked me up to the monitors and realized that my contractions were less than 30 seconds apart.  The anaesthesiologist was there withing five minutes and about 10 minutes later I happily realized that an epidural was going to work this time.  Hooray!!  This was the point where I became perfectly calm..... cause I couldn't feel a thing.

A few minutes later my doctor and her intern arrived in the room.  My nurse showed her the printout of my monitors and all three of them sat and stared for about five minutes.  This was the point when Dean and I knew everything was not alright.  The doctor calmly explained that since my body was reacting so aggressively to "the gel" which caused my labour to come on so fast and furious the baby wasn't having enough time during contractions to recover.  They broke my water trying to rinse out "the gel" but my body did not slow down the contractions.  Then they gave me angina medication to attempt to slow things down.  This also did not work.  So, my doctor told me that they were going to move me over to high risk so that I would be closer to the operating room, just in case.  Well, as soon as they wheeled my bed around the corner into high risk I saw my doctor in scrubs and a surgical cap.  At that point, I knew.  Then, instead of putting me in a high risk room, they put me right into the operating room with at least 15 other medical professionals.  It felt like chaos.  They continued to give me angina medication but it continued to do nothing but make me feel loopy.  Then they started to take blood samples from the baby's scalp (yes, he was still in me) to check his blood oxygen levels.  Then, in one last ditch effort, my doctor tried using a suction and had me push.  I was only 8cm but I pushed like there was no tomorrow.  I wanted that baby to come out.  The last few moments I remember involved my doctor throwing the suction on the floor and saying "We're done", I remember hearing someone telling Dean that he had to leave, and I remember someone telling me that they were going to take good care of me.  I remember feeling surprised (I really thought I was going to push that little sucker out) and confused.  Then....... I realized that I was feeling very very sleepy.  I looked up at the nurse next to me and said, "Are you putting me under??" Then, nothing. 

According to Dean, about 60 seconds later he heard our baby cry.  But, I wasn't there for that moment.  I was somewhere else for the next hour and a half.  I woke up in a big room with two nurses talking quietly at a desk nearby.  I could feel that I no longer had a baby in my belly, but I had no memory of it coming out.  I called the nurse and in a haze asked if I had my baby.  She told me that I did, indeed have a baby.  "Is he OK?" was my next question and all I really cared about.  Once she told me that my baby was fine then I found the nerve to ask, "Was it a boy or a girl?" She replied, "It was a boy." I remember hearing those words but not understanding.  I asked three more times and each time she responded, "Yes, he is a boy".  I was still not comprehending.  I was supposed to have a girl.  No one ever told me that but I was sure of it nonetheless.  I was going to put sweet little matching dresses on her an L and she was going to wear all those adorable little outfits that L had grown out of so quickly.  Where was my little girl?  I was sure the nurse had made a mistake.  Shortly after that, and after some drug induced conversation I had with the nurse regarding how it was a good thing I bought a one piece bathing suit last summer, Dean came into the room.  He was beaming from ear to ear.  I asked him several times what our baby was, and he assured me that he was a boy.... Dean had seen his "boy parts".  I was still not sure what to make of the situation but the sheer and utter joy on Dean's face gave me some reassurance.  Then, they brought me that baby.  They brought me a baby that I did not remember delivering.  A baby that I thought was a girl, but was indeed a boy.  A baby that had been in the world for almost two hours but had never met his mother.  I held him with shaky arms knowing that I loved him, but not sure how I was feeling.  I only held him for another few minutes before my shaky arms could no longer hold him steady.  Shortly after they brought me and my baby upstairs to a room and left us there, alone.  Dean could not stop beaming and I was slowly coming to terms with the fact that I was not present when my baby was born.  Beside my bed was a sweet little boy that I should have already been holding for hours but instead, I only just met him.  It was strange..... it was different.  It was so so different with L.  I heard her first cry, I held her moments after she was born, I smelled her, I felt her.

Fast forward a year.  Today there is a little boy sleeping in his bed.  Tomorrow morning he will wake up and he will be one year old.  I may not have heard his first cry, but I sure have heard many more throughout this past year.  I may not have held him right at birth, but I have rocked him to sleep, held him in the middle of the night while he was sick, cuddled his owies away, and smothered his cheeks in kisses.  I have spent days and minutes and hours holding him and smelling his freshly washed little head of hair.  I have felt him grab onto my legs signalling to me that he wanted to be in my arms.  I may have missed those few first hours, and yes I would like to have them back, but this past year I have been his mother.  HIS mother.  I love having a little boy.

Photo by Tammy Engel

Photo by Tammy Engel

"Look what I found my the recyling bin!!"

These Are the Days :)

It feels like life has been a whirlwind since about a month before Christmas...... actually, make that since September....... ok, make that since T was born.  Life seems to be racing by at incredible speed.  One year ago today I was a week overdue with T and praying that he would come on a day when Dean was not out of town.  Dean was still long hauling until a few days before T was born and I had a backup person for my delivery, and then I had a backup for my backup.  It was probably around this day last year when I was pretty sure I was going into labour.  I was having mild contractions at regular intervals all evening long.  I was just about ready to call my sister (backup #1) and give her the heads up and then it suddenly stopped.  It was that evening when I realized that I would not be ok with a backup person.... I wanted Dean there.  I guess, if I am going to be honest, I didn't need Dean there.  For centuries, delivering babies was women only work but I sure do love having Dean in the delivery room.  He is calm, supportive, and he doesn't say stupid things like, "I know how you feel".  Plus, the look on his face the first time he met L was something that I am SO glad I was able to witness.  I missed out on that with T, but I'll save that crazy story for another day.

Anyway, talking about delivery rooms and labour was not supposed to be the point of today's blog.  Today I wanted to share a moment of my day.  Dean has been out of town since Monday morning so it's been just the kids and I.  They have been really well behaved but it is still exhausting and lonely doing life without Dean for a few days.  This afternoon I had to do some baking for T's upcoming birthday and I felt bad making L play by herself since life has been so busy lately and she's had to do a lot of that.  So I decided to set up our "kitchen beach" again so she could play in the same room with me while I got the baking done.  But, as soon as it was set up, T woke up early from his nap.  So, I decided that since it was "only water" I would seize the day and let him play too.  It turned out to be a lot of fun for all of us.  L got a kick out of T playing with her and T could not believe that there was a "bathtub" in the middle of the kitchen.  So, the wonderful moment of my day was sitting next to the warm oven with the smell of white chocolate birthday cake pouring out, while sunbeams sprayed through the windows chasing out the feeling of a cold winter day and replacing it with warm beams that shone on my two little blessings splashing and giggling in the middle of the kitchen with wet toys scattered all around and smiles a mile long.  That was my moment :)

The Most Frustrated Chef on the Block

Over the last few months we have been fighting some food battles with L.  My little girl who used to eat everything, without complaining, has now become a picky eater.  If it is not peanut butter and jelly or Kraft dinner (heaven forbid I try to make a homemade mac and cheese) L will have nothing to do with it.  Oh wait, she will also eat fruit until her stomach explodes..... literally..... I have to cut her off of fruit otherwise she would have chronic diarrhea.  But, I digress.  So, as a result of this fussy eating dinner time has become the most frustrating part of my day.  No matter what I make, even if it is something that she usually loves, she will look at her plate and announce that she is finished and would like to be excused.  At first, we would sit at the table forever trying to get her to eat but that always turned out bad.  After many frustrating dinners I started reading articles and books trying to get some ideas to solve this sudden problem.  Most things I read agreed that it is not worth fighting your kid.  Simply let them leave the table but they do not get anything to eat until breakfast the next day.  So, we have been doing that for the past week...... L has not had dinner in a week.  We have discovered that she will happily go to bed without eating a thing, even if she has not had a single snack since lunch.  Ahhhhhhhh!  All the experts say that once the child goes to bed a few times hungry they will start eating their supper.  Wrong!  Might I add that L has also been waking up at 5:00am every morning starving.  She will not go back to sleep even though she is clearly still tired.  That little girl is so exhausted!  L can be stubborn but I have never considered her to be a "strong willed" child, she just will not eat dinner.  Today, after drinking her water and declaring that she was finished dinner, she told me that she only likes breakfast and lunch.  Then, in my extreme frustration, I muttered, "Well, until you start eating your dinner I'm not feeding you any breakfast".  Seriously, Nancy??  You're going to starve your kid until she starts eating dinner?  I am getting very tired of making supper every night, placing it on the table and hearing, "I don't want to eat this".  I am also very tired of waking up at 5:00am.  The experts seem to be all out of advice.  I guess I am just going to have to start serving dinner for breakfast since L "only likes breakfast and lunch".  Sigh.

Glad That Week is Over!

T was so tired that he fell
asleep sitting up in his crib.

Well, it's been a crazy few weeks in our house.  About two weeks ago T got a cold and started teething at the same time.  By last Sunday he popped four molars.  I was very happy when they were all through because he was started to be much happier.  After a week of poor sleeping both at night and during daytime naps, I was ready to get some sleep.  Then, this past Monday T got a fever.  It lasted for three days and even when he was on Tylenol his temperature was quite high.  By Wednesday the fever finally broke but then I started to notice spots behind his ears.  By Thursday afternoon his head, belly and back were covered.  I called Health Links just to make sure this was normal and after a lot of questions the nurse narrowed it down to baby measles.  There is nothing they can do for it so we just had to wait for it to get better.  Then, that night T slept awful.  He had coughing fits, he was throwing up, and he was crying in his sleep most of the night.  Sigh.  So, on Friday I took him to the doctor.  She also concluded it was just baby measles but she thought it would be best to keep the kids at home until at least Monday.  So, the kids and I stayed home from church today (the hubster had to sing so he went by himself).  L woke up looking very tired.  She sat on the couch with me and fell asleep shortly after waking up.  She woke up when hubby left and asked for a bucket.  Sigh.  So, I got her a bucket and left her on the couch while I quickly visited the washroom.  As I was in there I heard her begin to heave.  Sigh.  I quickly got downstairs to find her standing at the coffee table barfing into the pail I had given her.  Woo hoo!  Good aim!  When she was finished, she looked up at me calmly and said, "Could you get me something to wipe my mouth?" Stunned by her complete calm I studdered something and went to get a cloth.  When I came back she said, very matter of factly, "I had a little drink of water cause I thought it would make my tummy better but it made me throw up.  I think it's a little pink colored because of all the strawberries I ate yesterday." Then, she walked away and played like nothing ever happened.  She was fine for the rest of the day and even had a big appetite.  Strange.

L thought it was quite fun when we
put our old bed right in the middle
of her playroom.

 Added to this already crazy week was a new bed for my hubby and I!  We are very excited about it since our old mattress was terrible.  The first night we had it Dean was out of town for work and T was up most of the night so I didn't get to sleep in my new bed much.  Then, the next day, as I was having a shower in the morning L dozed off on the new bed and peed her pants while sleeping.  So, I found myself scrubbing pee out of my brand new mattress.  Then, for the next two nights the kids both slept terribly so I really did not get a chance to sleep in my brand new bed that looked so inviting.  Then, last night, after a week of craziness I went to bed nice and early.  By 9:00pm I was fast asleep in my new bed and by some miracle, both kids slept like a dream.  So after almost 10 hours in my new bed I can conclusively say, it is wonderful! 

Now that we have survived the past two weeks we are looking forward to some good ones.  In less than two weeks T will be turning one and then we are finally off on our family vacation.  Hopefully the kids bodies are good and immune to anything they come into contact with for the next few weeks.  Regardless of what goes on or how crazy and exhausting life gets, I am blessed.  I have a loving husband, two beautiful kids, a house, and a good doctor ;)  Even with measles and barfing, life is good.

Shaking the Cabin Fever

Well, winter has finally arrived.  I was really hoping that we would keep our lovely mild winter but alas, this is Manitoba and it is January.  The hubster has been out of town most of this week for work so I've been alone with the kids and since it has been so cold, we have stayed indoors.  I have noticed over the last few weeks that the lack of fresh air and running may be having an effect on the kid's sleeping.  At the beginning of every summer I am always amazed at how well they sleep.  Between the fresh air, walks to the park, and playing in the backyard kiddie pool, by bedtime they are so exhausted that they sleep deeply until the next morning.  Then winter comes.  Last year at this exact time we started encountering sleeping problems with L.  Being cooped up indoors just doesn't exhaust her enough and she starts waking up during the night and early morning.  So today I decided to get a bit creative. 

My monthly addition of Thriving Family came in the mail today.  Inside they had an article called, "7 Cabin Fever Rescues".  I immediately opened it up and started to read.  Although most of the activities were for school aged kids (which was a little disappointing since it's those of us with kids under five that are stuck at home all day during winter) there were a few good ideas that I could use.  One of the ideas was to have a pool party.  The idea is to set up a kiddie pool in the middle of your kitchen and let the kids play.  My neat-freak side immediately perked up and said "no way" but then my practical side said "it's just water".  I am proud to say that my practical side won.  We don't have an inflatable pool so I just got a big bucket, some bubble bath, kitchen utensils, a few toys, and lots of towels.  I sent L to her room to change into her bathing suit while I set it up.  She did not know what was going on but she was ecstatic when she arrived in the kitchen to find that I was letting her play with water.  I should note that my kid LOVES water.  Whether it is in a cup, a sink, a bathtub, pool, or garden hose, if there is water, she will be entertained for hours.  This activity did end with water all over my kitchen floor, but it was worth it to see her have so much fun.  The best part was, when T woke up from his nap he was content to sit in his highchair and watch her. 

All in all, it was a fun afternoon trying something new.  I'm sure she will be asking for more tomorrow :)

When Bad Things Happen to Perfectly Good Sleepers

When L was first born she was very colicky.  And I mean when she was first born.   Our first night in the hospital she started to scream and it continued for about three and a half months.  The first week we were home from the hospital I got a total of five hours of sleep.  I won't get into details but it was pretty awful and involved a lot of anxiety and crying for all three of us.  Then, when she was around four months I put her in her crib after changing her diaper.  By the time I got back from washing my hands she was asleep, for the first time ever, by herself in her crib.  Hallelujah!  Ever since then, she has been a dream sleeper.  I would put her down for naps or bedtime, no matter where we were, and she would peacefully drift off to sleep.  Then she turned three.  Since then we have had some sleep issues on and off but they usually clear up within a week or two.  Well, it's been well over three weeks now of screaming at bedtime and hours of waking up in the middle of the night.  At first, she was telling us that she was afraid.  Swiper the Fox was to blame for that one.  Once we cleared it up that Swiper was imaginary, monsters were the new thing to be afraid of.  We have now overcome those monsters and it is simply, "I don't want to go to bed!"  She fights and she fights but once she gives in she is asleep in less than five minutes.  But, our girl, who for most of her life has slept 13-14 straight hours a night, now wakes up for up to three hours in the middle of the night.  It's really thoughtful of her to stagger her wake up time with her little brother, that way mommy can be up all night but only have one kid awake at a time.  Yes, that was very sarcastic.  I really do try to be loving and understanding but she is very stubborn and insists that she cannot sleep without ever trying to.  I am at a bit of a loss and just keep telling myself (like I've told so many other moms) that it is just a phase.  Well, phase or not, we all need some sleep around here.

Cute but Rough

I love having a little boy.  At first I was not so sure, but now I would not trade him for the world.  He is so much fun and OH BOY is he cute!  I just love those big puffy cheeks.  I have noticed over the last few months the remarkable difference between my two children.  Both of them were very active and pretty easy going for the most part as infants but I am noticing that T seems to be more adventurous.  L was an early walker and pretty fearless while T is more cautious but willing to take biggest risks after he has calculated them.  For example, L never ever tried to climb anything.  I was never concerned about finding her on top of things.  T is the opposite.  I find him on top of things that I dídn't even think he could climb.  He is also crazy strong.  I cannot believe how much force he has.  This brings me to the point of today's post.  T is a bit of a Mommy's boy (which I actually really love) so I find that he often crawls to me and wants to be picked up, just for a few seconds, and then he is good to go and play again.  It's really very sweet, except that I keep coming away from our little cuddles sessions with war wounds.  It's not that he means to be rough, but he sure is.  Either I'm getting headbutted, pinched, hit, or my hair pulled.  He does it all in the effort to cuddle in as close as possible but that doesn't make it hurt any less.  It's kind of like cuddling a porcupine.  He may want to be held and loved but no matter how you do it, you end up getting hurt. By the time T is a big boy and doesn't want mommy's cuddles anymore it probably won't matter since I will have been injured so many times I won't have any feeling in my upper body.  Just kidding ;)  Until then, I will keep giving him all the cuddles he wants and hope that eventually, with so much practice, he may get pretty good at it.

Seriously, isn't he cute!

Eyes in the Rearview Mirror

Over the last couple of years I have been lamenting my new wrinkles.  It feels like ever since I had kids I seem to be ageing at a much more rapid pace.  Perhaps it's the lack of sleep, poor diet consisting of coffee and half eaten grilled cheese, or the constant worry over how to get both kids to the grocery store, do my shopping and still get home for nap time.  Anyway you look at it, the wrinkles are adding up.  Yes, I know it's vain, but it still bothers me.

Then, last week, the strangest thing happened to me.  I was driving with my kids (on the way home from the grocery store) and I was looking in the rear view mirror at Lillian.  After seeing the silly face she wanted to show me, I caught a glimpse of my eyes in the mirror.  For a split second, I didn't think they were mine.  It's not that they were unrecognisable.  In fact, they were eyes I knew well.  They were my mom's.  Staring back at me in my rear view mirror were the eyes that I saw countless times as we drove in our family vehicle to church, sports practises, piano lessons, to school, home from school, long road trips, the grocery store, etc...  My mom spent hundreds of hours driving me all over the countryside allowing me to pursue my current interests, get me to school or church, or just to connect with my friends.  She gave up so much of her time just taking care of me.  Those eyes staring at me reminded me of the concern, sacrifice, encouragement, patience, and love that only a mother can provide.  Those eyes were staring at me in my rear view mirror and I realised that they were not my mom's eyes, they were mine and they were staring at my kids in the back seat.  My kids get to see in my eyes what I always saw in my mom's eyes.  Love, care, adoration, and pride.  And they get to see it because their mom had such a good mom.

Goodbye wrinkle cream.