Friday, was a most awesome day, as I was able to see The Bigs in their class setting.  I really get a kick out of being there with them and watching them learn. I'm  that Mother that is in the corner with happy tears streaming down her face because her child sat during circle or read a sentence.   Yep, tears.   Every.  Single.  Time. 

My little guys are smart as whips. They also are diagnosed under the ASD umbrella.  

When I tell people that, and I tell a lot of people because it's part of who we are, I usually get the side head tilt, and sad look of apology.  I also get, "I hear people with autism are really smart."  

I really, really don't enjoy those responses. 

My guys are smart, regardless  of autism.  They just have a more difficult time processing.   And also, I wouldn't change  them.  They are what I know and love.  Somedays are difficult, but most days are good because we cope, and we deal and we navigate this world together.  Like we did on Friday...

M had a "Scientist" in the classroom.  I was able to volunteer for a few hours and I knew the change in routine would probably be hard on him.  It was, big time.  Also, me being there probably didn't help either.   Too much noise, too many strange faces, no structure.   His morning went down the tube fast.   One of his classmates recognized that things were not quite right for him and found him his "Sit Fit Cushion".  Awesome.

The "Scientist" who was leading some of the projects, wasn't very sensitive to the different needs of the class.  At one point, she actually snapped at him which made him cower in a corner.  Not awesome.

So we readjusted our sails, took a walk and built a structure, until he was ready to rejoin the class.  His teacher is amazing and we turned on the smart board and did some math with the  entire class.  Guess who was leading it with his special smart board stylus?  My Son.   

My Son with autism, who just wants to be involved and learn like all the other kids. My Son, who was dancing and happy the minute order was restored in a familiar part of his life.  My Son, the rockstar, was leading the class through counting by fives, tens, twenties, backwards and any  other combination you can think of.  My Son!   

So yes, he is brilliant.  No bias here.    

I have a point here, I really do.  

If you see a child having a hard time, in the midst of a wild tantrum,  or doing something they potentially shouldn't  be doing, don't assume the worst of the child or the parent.  There are things you can't see.  If you see tears in my eyes, don't back away and assume  I'm a lunatic for crying because my child can sit for 4 minutes in circle.  That's a big deal for us.     Hug us, congratulate us, and high five us.  You can bet your bottom dollar that I would do the same for you and your guys. 

Nighty night.

J

It was one of those days...

One hour into our day it started.

The hitting, biting, the throwing of toys.

The pushing, the shoving, the screaming.

It was not a day I wanted to be a part of.

It was not one of my finer moments in parenting.

M was in his room twice today.

After the second time I vowed to give all of us some space.

So I did what I don't normally do and let him play on a different floor than J and myself for a good portion of the afternoon.

It was slightly peaceful, but M was still tired, and cranky, possessive and unkind, that it still made the afternoon difficult.

I tried for 4 hours to get him outside for a walk, but he was having none of it, Until 1 hour before dinner.

Of course.

So out we went for a walk around the block.

The sun was just setting and both of them looked so stinkin' cute waddling in their heavy snowsuits.

The air did all of us some good.

Until bedtime...

Then it all went to the pooper again.

M is going through some sort of  Idontwanttogotobedrightnow phase.

Paired with MommyMommyMommyyoumustliebesidemewhileItrytosleep phase.

Every. Night.

I'm tired of the drama at bedtime.

The scolding at bedtime.

The raised voice at bedtime.

The complete frustration at bedtime.

Tired.


As I lay there with him watching him fall asleep tonight I wondered about a few dozen things.

Is he scared?

Does he know I love him to the moon and back?

Is he trying to one up me?

Is this a power/control issue?

What the beep am I doing wrong?

Giving in?

Loving him to much?

Not enough?

Not spending enough time with him?

Spending too much time with him?

I was a Mother I didn't want to be today.

The mother that scolded to much, raised her voice to much.

I made a conscious decision to let technology go today with a few minor updates here and there.

I didn't craft,

I didn't shower,

I didn't do dishes.

I didn't make dinner, and opted for leftovers paired with nuggets and fries.

I tried to be present.

I just don't think I did a very good job of it today.

Me.

It is not often that I scrapbook about myself.

Rare really.

When I started out that was all I did.

Then the kiddos came along and they are far more interesting for me to look at in an album.

That being said *maybe* one of them, or their wives, or their children might like to know what I was groovin' on this particular cold, bleary January day.

10 things I love:

1. B and his everyday humor that keeps me laughing.  He is able to turn a bad day into a better one and a great day into a fabulous one.  He is my soul mate.  I know this.

2. My Boys.Everyday is an adventure.  I never really knew what unconditional love meant until they came around.

3.  My Mom.  She helps me everyday with the boys.  I'm not too sure what I would do without her.

4.  Sam.  She is my best friend.  I can tell her *almost * anything.  I love that we can laugh at ourselves.

5. Our home.  It is simple and modest.  It won't be our home forever but it was our first that we owned and allot of love was experienced here.

6. Scrapbooking.  It is the only craft that I have ever stuck with.  It is my therapy and my ME time.

7.  Shopping.  Not really for me anymore unless it is scrapbook supplies.  I like to buy for my babes.

8. Flyers.  I anticipate them every week.  I love to see what is on sale and drool over someday buying a new camera.

9. Singing at the top of my lungs in the car.  It helps me relax after a not so great day at work.

10.  Blogs.  I read hundreds in my Google Reader account.  And by read I mean skim through the pages for inspiration with life and scrapbooking.  Another way I spend my ME time.

Funny thing about this list.  I really haven't changed all that much in the last few years.  My needs and wants are pretty simple. 

Okay my wants are not simple but know I don't need them to be happy.

With the small exception that I want a haircut, and I do need it to be happy.

I'm starting to feel like a hippy!

And that Want/need is part of balancing my needs with that of the families.

Surely they won't miss those long hippy locks???

Have Tuesday peeps.

One Little Word

Balance.

At home,

At work,

With my partner,

With my children,

With myself.




That is my word for 2011.

You can read about it here, here, here , here and here.

Hello...

2011.

I can already tell you are going to be amazing.

I am not going to put too much presure on you,

But I can just feel that you are going to go my way.

Thank you 2010 for showing me the way.

Today,

I put up the tree.

It is slightly top heavy with all of my special ornaments.

Plastic, wood and fabric ornaments fill the bottom third.

Badness has been pretty good about it so far, but this is just the beginning.

M helped me decorate it.

He ran back and forth from my Christmas totes to the tree, resting ornaments on the branches.

At one point he even tried to sit on a branch and quickly learned that it would not hold his weight.

My heart was full as I took the time to watch M help me decorate and as I watched J as a toddler discover the tree, it's lights and all the pretty decorations.

I knew I had a smirk on my face.


Later in the evening we ran out to do an errand.

The snow was falling softly from the sky.

J was in silent awe, watching the sky and trying to catch the flakes.

I love this season.

Today I want to remember

I want to remember that I live in a free country, that cost men and women their lives.  I take this for granted far to often.

I want to remember that I am loved.  Loved by hubs who continually reaffirms this through words and gestures that are unexpected and so appreciated.

I want to remember this morning at 5:20am,  the 20 minute cuddle in the dark, on the couch, where J held onto me for dear life and I could see his smile in the darkness.

I want to remember tonight as I lay next to M,  how he called out for me to cuddle with him, and just when I thought he was asleep and I was about to leave the room,  that he snuggled even closer and wrapped an arm around me.

I want to remember this season, my most favorite time of year.  The crisp air, the blue skies, the crescent moon.  Nothing, not even grumpies will ever wreck this time of year for me.  It is too magical, too special.

Nighty Night.

Awake

There are days on end where I could sleep at the drop of a hat.

Tonight apparently is not one of them.

I was lying in bed wishing for sleep with my eyes close but I was wide awake.

WIDE AWAKE.

Maybe it is the excitement of our first snow fall,

In which I celebrate (yes celebrate) by putting the kids in their new footed reindeer PJ's.

Maybe it is the excitement of Halloween tomorrow night.

(totally laughing at myself though for talking up two holidays in one day.

Maybe it is thinking too much about November and December scheduling and making time for everything and everyone.

Or maybe the cup of tea I had two hours ago.

Who knows...

Truth be told I like these quiet moments where no one is needing me.

This is my alone time.

The time when I rejuvenate my mind and spirit.

Time to get things of my chest,

My creative outlet fulfilled in some little way.

ahhhhh the silence...

I'll leave you with another LO I did of M.

I totally love this picture of him from this past summer.

The two of us were spending some alone time up by the river feeding the birds.

There is an old Mill there (Watson's Mill). 

We go there allot to feed the ducks and watch the water flow under the bridge.

The Mill is apparently haunted and it is beautiful there.

I always envision it filled with white lights and candles, round tables with perfectly pressed white table clothes, the perfect stage for a little intimate wedding reception.

I digress...

The building is old and made of stone, the perfect backdrop I think for a photo.

He looked so sweet sitting there on the bench....Makes my heart happy!

Happy weekend and Happy Halloween!!

Last week...

I finished nursing J, 2 months shorter than M.

I pulled out of my house and drove a new 20 km drive to my new store.

I fought back tears several times

I met my new team.

I was reunited with a manger I had worked with in the past.

I made snap first impression judgments, some were bang on, some were way off.

I butted heads with a couple of people.

J started sleeping through the night.

J stopped sleeping through the night.

J took three steps.

M redeveloped excema.

M informed me that he had to go to work.

I experienced a different type of exhaustion.

My feet hurt from wearing high heals for the first time in almost two years.

I rediscovered my love for Starbucks green tea,

and what it was like to be so busy you didn't stop.  All.  Day.

I felt that same sense of panic on the drive home as I did two years ago,

and the same rush of joy when I gathered my boys up in my arms when I walked in the door.

The 7pm page for me to pick up line one made me smile because I knew it was time to goodnight to the turkey and the monkey.

Last week  wasn't perfect, if it where I would still have been at home with my guys.

But it was good, better than I expected.

Both boys are meltdown free, and in a home filled with love, with a Grandma that loves them, plays with them and takes them on fun adventures.

They are showered with love from a Mommy and Daddy who are away all day, and in my case, two nights a week.

And I can only ask for that during this chapter of our life.

Heres to an even better second week.

Nighty Night.

One year ago...

I started my second and last maternity leave. 

I am having a lazy Sunday, bogged down with a cold, compliments of Hubs when it struck me.  I have already been off for one whole year. 

How can that be??  Wasn't it just yeasterday that I was moaning and groaning about my stoopid sciatic nerve issue??  That I couldn't take M for a walk longer than 30 minutes because I physically just couldn't do it?  That I was building a bed for myself at the base of the stairs at 7:00am in the mornings because I wanted to snooze longer and I was baracading the exit for M should he try to escape?

Seriously?

Wasn't it just yesterday that a size three didn't fit M and now in two week from today he will turn three and being wearing a size four in some things?

I'm sure it was just yesterday that I was sitting in my Dr. office and he was giving me the details of my schedule c-section.  And I know that it wasn't that long ago that I walked up to the desk in Labour and Delivery at the hospital and ordered up one baby boy.

Wasn't it?

It couldn't possibly be that my baby is going to be one in five weeks.

And I am certain that I am not ready to return to work in five weeks.

Time is once again not on my side.

My babies are growing, their personalities maturing into little people that I could never, ever do without.

It doesn't stop me from missing the smallness though.  I can't even begin to describe that feeling when your newborn baby is placed into your arms for the very first time.

I remember it for both of them like it was yesterday.

Happy Sunday.

A weekend in photos...

134 photos to be exact. Normaly I wouldn't take that many pictures, however alot of fun was had and the scrapper in me thought it might be possible that some of these moments may need to be scrapped.

Friday we headed over to the golf course so M could check out this machine:

Go for a ride on the "John Deer Gator"

Watch some of these land:                    

And search for some of these:

On Saturday I made these:

And let M decorate his:

Of course he had to taste test it afterwards...

The finished product didn't really end up looking like eggs but they were tasty:

It was such a beautiful day that we headed outside afterwards to burn of the sugar:

Some of us enjoyed a meal of grass:

On Sunday we went to church and came home to discover the Easter Bunny had paid a visit:

M enjoyed the hunt:

And the chocolate that I left him eat before 10:00am:

Others just enjoyed...

In the afternoon we headed to the backyard where M was in his glory playing on his slide:

J enjoyed the culinary delights of sheets:

I enjoyed the rare opportunity to spend time with just my guys:

Some of us were in bed earlier than others due to a sugar induced coma.  Or was it the far too many temper tantrums that were brought on by plumeting and skyrocketing blood sugar levels???

Several times throughout the day I thought about how different my life was this year compared to last.  For some reason I always feel the need to reflect on this holiday.  And count my many blessings.

I hope yours was as special as mine.

Conversation with an almost 3 year old

Him: "Mommy, Is that the neighbourhood?"
Me:   "Yep, it is our neighbourhood sweets."

Him: "Mommy, Is that the neighbour's car?"
Me:   "Yep, but don't touch the neighbour's car okay sweets."

Him: "Mommy, Is that Mark's car?"
Me:   "It is Mark's car.  What color is it?"

Him: "Mommy, Is Mark's car red?"
Me:   "It is, Can you say hello to Mark?"
Him: "Heeeeeyyyyy Mark!  Howz it goin?"
Me:   *smirk*

Him: "Mommy, Is that the digger?"
Me:   "Yep, it is a digger.  Some would call it an excavator ...."
Him: " No, thats a digger."
Me:   "Yes it is a digger sweets."
Him: "yes...it....is."

Him: "Mommy, Is that the dumptruck?"
Me:   "Yes honey that is  a dumptruck."
Him: "It is a dump truck."

Him: "Mommy, Is that the street sweeper?"
Me:   "I don't see one honey.  I think they only come out on Fridays right now, and today is only Thursday."
Him: "Cassidy is coming on Saturday."
Me:   "I don't think she is sweatheart."

Him: "Mommy, is that the airplane?"
Me:   " Wow, yep it is an airplane...where do you think it is going?"
Him:  "It's going down down down on runway twenty nine!!!"
Me:   *big smile*

Him: "Mommy, is that the puppy dog?"
Me:  "Yes honey it is a puppy dog.  Would you like to say hello?"
Him: " Hey doooooogggg!!!!"

Him: "Hello world!!!!!"
Me:  " Hey world!"
Him: "It's nice to see you world!!!!!"
Me:  "what's happening world??"
Him: "Hey wooorrrlllldddd!!!!!!!!!"
Me:  " Mommy loves you."

*I wish I could freeze these moments forever and that my babies would always have those sweet little inquisitive voices.*

Random Tidbits

My children have been waking up no later than 5:30 am all week.

M mimicks everything.  He tried walking backwards today because he saw his cousin do it.

M also has a new english accent compliments of Mr. Maker.

J is crawling and pushing himself into a sitting position on his own.

His balance is terrible though so I don't let him do it on the main floor where it is hardwood.

He also claps.

He also feeds himself peas, corn, cheese, strawberries, bananas, toast and baby cookies.  This is way more than I let M eat at this age for fear of him choking.

I am in awe at how differently my children develope.  So similar but so different.

B goes back to work in 3 weeks, at a new course.

He can eat a whole box of crackers in one sitting.

I am going to put him on Morning duty soon because those early mornings are killing me.

I am leaving the boys with Mom tomorrow from 8:15 am till 1:00pm.  I am really nervous as it is the first time I have left J for any length of time. 

She is confident.

I don't like to leave my babies.  I'm just not there yet.  I didn't leave M till he was 9 months as well.

It is gloriously sunny here.  8(c) degrees sunny.  The snow is melting quickly and we have mushy grass patches,  both front and back.

I am torm between a Toyota Sienna and the Rav4 with the optional 3rd row.  I want space and especially needed something bigger today. 

Does it make me uncool that I kind of lean more towards the minivan?  In Black?

My eyebrows deperatly need plucking.

I haven't blowdried my hair since Christmas Eve.

I will not scar you with that image.

Another scintilatting post.

Nighty Night.

Like an elephants...

That would be my memory.


I don't often forget things. Or conversations. Or peoples names.

Memories from my childhood are vivid.

I can remember FRIENDS episodes like it is nobodies business.

I could tell you stories from my teenage years that should be lost somewhere within the depths of my brain due to the copious amounts of alcohol involved but I remember all the silly and really dumb things I did.

I would not study for an exam in university and cram for two hours before and ace it.

I consider it one of my talents. Seriously...I do.

That is why I am a little bit saddened by a recent memory loss.

I blame sleep, or lack there of.

I was nursing J the other night and thinking about how he was getting so close to sitting up when it struck me that I couldn't remember the process with M.

Did I train M to sit? (Train? Should I have said that?) When exactly did he start? I know he was 7 months and sitting independently but how did we get to that point?

And when did he start picking things up on his own and feeding himself?

When did he start sleeping marginally better?

How did I wean him?

What was I doing when he started to walk?

Why didn't I document that time when he randomly counted to six just after his first birthday?

When did I stop giving a sh*t about what other parents thought?

I know I have two scrapbooks filled with M's milestones and J's well under way but it tugs at my heart a little that I have already forgot some of their little lives.

I can no longer scoff at those who say "I don't remember" because apparently you hit 36 and senility starts setting in.

I don't know, maybe it’s not as important as I think it should be.

Maybe pinpointing the exact moment an infant spews out his first sound isn't all that it is cracked up to be.

And are they going to care that I don't remember?

Probably not.

But their wives or partners might.

They might hold me in high enough regard to ask for my advice one day on how to wean, or treat cradle crap, or deal with teething.

Maybe.

Or they might think I'm an old bat who doesn't have a clue and is going to do it her way regardless.

Or they  might have a fabulous sister to get advice from.

Regardless, I just want to remember the teeny tiny moments that might not be very important the vast majority of the population, but they are to me.

Because when I sit back and think about it, it really is those small, teeny, tiny moments that put a smile on my face.

Those little memories make this parenting journey easier on the days when I just want to sit in a corner and pout.

And really, I want to maintain my slight superiority complex about my wicked awesome memory.



FYI, Jack ate Cheerios for the first time today, and used the pincher grasp to feed himself too.  That kid is genious!

Update

Yesterday he:
















Turned 8 months old...where has the time gone?

Is just over 18lbs, and is 23 inches tall.

Now has four teeth, the fourth of which has made the last week miserable for him.

Waves and flails his arms madly when he wants attention.

Is almost sitting up.

Says "mum mum, ada ada, & yaya"

Is NOT sleeping well at all.

Still has those wonderful blue eyes...I think they are here to stay!

Throws a hissy fit when I take him out of the bath.

Is starting to like food more and more...especially fruit.


Tomorrow he:

Will turn three in three months...again, where has the time gone?

Has a wild fascination with all things zipper related.

Recognizes name brands and their logos by exclaiming "That's The North Face!, That's Arc teryx!"  This was Daddy's contribution to child rearing.  Beware Costco shoppers wearing any sort of coat with a zipper or logo...my child may attach himeself to you.

Still naps.  * listen to the angels above sing their praise peeps!*

Loves snack time.  So much that I will tell him it is snack time to get him upstairs.  This kid packs it away.

Just had a growth spurt because his jeans that had to rolled in September now fit perfectly.

Doesn't throw too many tantrums but when he does....watch out!

Loves to Rock and roll with Daddy.

Loves his new Iggle Piggle stuffy.

Has started using the word please again.

Still communicates in the form of a question to himself when he wants something and answers said question himself: "M, would you like a pickle?  Ummmm sure!!!"

Has started to ask us for things in the proper context: "I'd like to go downstairs....now!!"  Maybe a little demanding at times.

Likes to touch the ceiling...again a Daddy contribution.

Loves puzzles.

Has rediscovered storytime with his Mommy....Yippee!!!

Today I:

Am getting a little frustrated with the sleep situation... or lack there of.

Am starting to think about how hard it will be to return to work in 4 months.

Lost 5 pounds.

Am the reigning Wii ski jump champion, much to B's chagrin and efforts to beat me.

Desperately need a haircut.

Look forward to Monday nights and watching The Bachelor...

Am bored with winter.

Am using my slow cooker and muffin tins like crazy....separately of course.  :)

Am cherishing the little moments of love with my family.

Look who is still hanging out.

Hostage taking

It was a little over 15 years ago that technology started it's stronghold on me.



While in university I went on a ski trip to Sugar Loaf in Maine.



I was a crappy, crappy skier.



So bad in fact I still have broken capillaries on my thighs from the massive amount of bruising that I incurred to prove it.



Ski patrol had to take me down the mountain after a few short feet.



Totally embarrassment.



I ended up meeting some peeps while waiting for my shuttle to take my bruised butt home.



Back then I was a mouthy thing...now not so much.



I digress.



I stayed in touch with one of those guys for about a year and a half after that trip.



He introduced me to this chat room from some radio station.



I think it was the Boston Hot Tub or something?



I remember I would head to the computer lab on weekends so I could chat it up with this guy.



The computers were old and decrepit.



No scripts or pictures or anything.



Just this constant flow of comments being posted from anyone in that particular forum.



Not long after, I discovered an Internet Cafe downtown and discovered what the chat room and other websites were supposed to look like.



I was tickled.



it would be long after that though that I bought my first computer.



Seven years ago to be exact.



And even then I only used email and surfed Martha and some cooking websites.



I didn't jump on the Facebook phenomenon until M was a couple of months old.



I need something to occupy my time while I was at home and he was sleeping.



Enter Blog land.



Seriously?



A little over a year ago I stumbled across two of my friend’s blogs.



I started reading one night feeling ever so guilty for snooping in one their lives but I couldn't stop.



I told my sister about it and she was like "uhh duhh.....everyone reads blogs. I have one."



Excuse me? Where the heck have I been?



So I started reading hers and she gave me some awesome links. And by awesome, I mean I read everyday and sometimes go back into their archives for more reading pleasure.



It was shortly there after that I decided that I need my own. I looked at it as an extension to scrapbook.



To tell my story and that of my family when I didn't have time to sit down and create.



I'm sure by know you are wondering where I am going with this?



Two days ago we got a Virus.



I was without Internet, Email, Facebook, Google reader and Two Peas for an entire 24 hours.



A good friend of B's came over we ran our computer in safe mode and ran a restore function of our antivirus and sent that virus packing.



But not after a day of complete frustration that was misdirected several times.



I am thankful that I recognized my frustration and took some much needed timeouts for hugs but that virus lingered in my mind all. day. long.



I went to bed last night thinking that it was crazy that I let it get to me so much.



So crazy that after it was fixed I didn't even go on and have a quick read of anything.



So crazy that I knew today I had to make it better.



Today we paint.



Today we might break out the play dough



Today we do puzzles.



Today we build towers and Super Grover with Lego



Today we may break out the play dough.



Today we cuddle on the couch.



Today we read.



Today we pack everything fun into one rainy day.





Today I realize that I may not be able to let go of the internet but I sure as hell can make sure my kids know that they are my priority.

Does this count?

I'm featured on this website today.

I can't tell you how tickled I am!

One step towards that Pub that i'm striving towards.

Yay me!

The boxes in the closet

They are Pampers boxes

They stay in the closet and as they grow, clothes are sorted into them.

One box is the clothes that J will eventually wear,  and the other is filled with clothes that will never be worn again.

At least not in this family.

It is that second box that makes me a little sad.

Because in it holds all those itty bitty infant clothes that I would never have fathomed a human could  be small enough to fit into.

And after sorting it the other day, that box became two.

They each have their own special box, filled with the articles of clothing I know that I am not ready to part with:

• The long- sleeve top I bought as soon as I found out I was having M so he could wear it at Christmas.
• The turtle outfit that I just had to have but proved to be a pain while nursing.
• The outfits that Aunty Sam bought both of my children to wear home from the hospital in, that have matching blankets.
  
• The itty bitty screwdriver PJ’s I sent Grandma out to buy because nothing we had would fit M.
• The onesie that Cara bought M that was small enough to wear on his first day at home .
• The scrapbook top that Jenn bought but was seriously, seriously tiny.
• The last sweater that Great Grammy P will probably ever knit for a great grandchild .
• The first sweater Grandma H ever got to knit for a grandchild.
• The monkey outfit with blanket that M just had to have even though I bought it too late in the season and he barely wore it.
• The Vespa outfit that Lisa bought for M.
• J’s newbie PJ’s that were so tiny he barely wore them.
• The alien outfit with the crazy hat that I bought for J because it was tiny and funny and he needed something light those first few days.
• M’s go-to onesie from Aunt Norma
• The polo short outfit and Sailor outfit that Aunty Sam bought for J that he wore all the time his first summer.
• J’s go-to onesie.
• The zoom zoom zoom onesie that Grandma T bought.
• J’s go-to PJ’s.

I grabbed my camera and snapped shots of them because I wanted to remember what they looked like because realisticaly, those boxes may very well stay in my basement for decades.

They more than likely will not be lent out to friends with babies because I don't want another childs spit up on them.

Crazy, I know.

Instead they will collect dust untill one day, when they may or may not be moth ridden I will dig them out for my grandbabies to wear.

Maybe.

The Grandma Effect

I am very lucky.


Very.

I have the good fortune of having my mother live with us.

She takes care of the kids when I am working so I don't have to pay daycare.

And we try to take care of her.

Time and time again though, she usually does a better job of taking care of us.

My house is always clean.

The lady actually enjoys cleaning....

My sister and I did not inherit that gene.

When I am working, dinner is 10 minutes from being on the table the minute I walk in the door.

She often sends me out when she thinks I need a break.

She lets me nap when she knows I have had a rough night with J.

She stays with J and lets me go out with M when she sees that he needs my undivided attention.

She even does B's laundry which I always tell her NOT to do.

If the man can't get the clothes into the basket he does not deserve to have clean clothes provided for him.  I’m just sayin…

M loves her.

LOVES HER.

She lets him do all kinds of fun stuff.

Play on her computer.

She made Christmas cookies with him when he was 18 months old.

She takes him out for walks in the rain so he can splash in puddles.

She takes him on bus rides just for fun.

She takes him to the park.

She lets him press all kinds of buttons.

Yep....he loves her.

So here is the kicker.

I hate it when I have to be the disciplinarian and he cries for her.

It kills me.

It makes me feel like I am not the primary caregiver.

Parenting at the best of times is the hardest job anyone will ever do.

I try very hard every day to be good enough.

And I hate to feel not good enough.

To feel like I am failing

.

.

.

Tonight M didn't want to leave Aunty Sam's.

He loves it there.

He was thrashing madly as we tried to put his coat and boots on.

Finally I just scooped him up sans boots and carried him to the car and buckled him in.

He was screaming bloody murder.

He screamed the entire 15 minute drive home.

Screamed.

SCREAMED.

Half way home he was crying for his Grandma.

In the house he was crying for his Grandma.

Grandma is sleeping over at Aunty Sams tonight.

No Grandma here kiddo.

My heart was a mess.

Do I not spend enough time with this child of mine or is it that he gets to have all the fun with her?

What is it about me at times like this that makes me  so repugnant.

And is it silly that it makes me jealous that he wants her?

These are not new feelings.

I noticed it in and around the time I was pregnant with J.

Mom would tell me if M woke up in the night that she would tend to him.

I would hear him and I would try to waddle my whale like ass down to his room.

I would see Grandma rocking him back to sleep.

If that didn't work she would take him into bed and they would sleep.

One night I got up and got to him before she did and he was upset that it wasn't her.

In a period of a month M had become accustomed to her night time cuddles.

So I started getting up with him again.

Cuddling him in the night if he needed it.

Whispering the sweet nothings that mamma's whisper in their babies ears.

And he started to need me again.

Or is it that I needed him?

.
.
.

What I think you are going to say is this:

Every child rebells against their parents.

Every child knows how to push their mothers buttons.

No one can replace a childs mother.

Even B who was reading while I wrote said: " Could you imagine if it was you that stayed behind and not Grandna....Holy Sh*t we would be in for it!"

But sometime I have doubts.

Doubts that I am giving him every little piece of me that he needs.

Doubts that he will grow up and that I will be his favorite person.

Am I even supposed to be his favorite person?

I'm not trying to compete for anyones love;  never have, never will.

I can only be me.

Maybe it's because I didn't grow up the way M is.

I didn't have a Grandma around 24/7.

Heck I hardly ever saw them before the age of 10.

So I can't relate to his love for his grandma. 

That's not to say that I didn't love mine, I just didn't see them often.

But I wish that I did.

I have cousins that saw Grandma and Grandpa every holiday and I always felt that they had a stronger bond with them then my brother and sister and I ever had.

So through all of this random, feeling sorry for myself, pity party rambling I only have this to say.

I thank God that my Mom is here with us.

Some people should be so lucky