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.

J's Big Day.

Yesterday J was finally Baptized.

He will be 20 months old tomorrow, and surprisingly he was the youngest yesterday to make this sacrament.

When I was contemplating baptism, I really struggled with the decision. 

I am not a cradle Catholic.

In fact I was only Baptised when I was 12 years old.

Because of that, I really struggle with religion.

It is not that I don't believe in God, because I do whole heartily.

I just sometimes find it to be too institutionalized.

I also have a hard time with the fact that the Roman Catholic Church is one of the most lucrative institutions in the world.

But more and more I am going to Mass on Sundays, with my children and really trying to listen with my ears and my heart to what the priest is saying.

My initial reasoning to have them Baptised was not a very good one.

I wanted them to go to a Catholic school as I felt and still feel that the experience with religion, faith, community will be good for them.  Their school will be able to teach them things that I feel inept at.

And in the end, if the boys decide that this religion stuff is not for them, at least they have something to base their decision on, rather than no experience or knowledge at all.

I try to take my role seriously.  The operative word being try.

I take them to church and I am teaching M to say a night time prayer. 

It is hard, because Hubs is not Religious.  He has faith but doesn't feel that he needs to be inside  a building to prove/profess it.

To each their own....

Any whoooooooooo, Yesterday J was baptized.

He wore the same outfit that M did for his baptism.

It was a pretty big day for him and the Mass and Ceremony was smack dab in the middle of his nap time.  I had a very tired babe on my hands.

Not sure if you can see the smiles on our faces here but J decide to let out a toot just as Father finished pouring holy water on his head.  Totally inappropriate, but I was suppressing so much laughter I actually had tears streaming down my cheeks.

And Auntie, who is also Godmother to both my children did a good job helping out with the boys.

My favorite picture from the ceremony; we all look so involved in what the Priest was saying.

We then went back to my house to have lunch.  J didn't survive the drive home and was out within minutes.  I woke him up two hours later so he could enjoy this: (YEP..I made it from scratch!)

 

Afterwards he was all smiles and I snapped my favorite picture of the day.

Isn't he a little angel?

Nighty Night.

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.

My nightly boomerang

After nearly four years of sleep deprivation I am happy to report that my littlest is edging towards uninterrupted slumber.

I have been waiting for this moment for... well for 4 years.

You see, when I became pregnant with my biggest I instantly couldn't sleep anymore.

I would be awake for hours on end in the night, only to start feeling sleepy when it was time to get up for work.

I was miserable.

My biggest bundle of joy didn't start sleeping through the night until he was 16 months old.

Ironically it was the exact date that I found out that I was pregnant with him.

I was already two weeks pregnant with baby J and had completely resigned myself that I was never to sleep again.

Gone were sacred Sundays spent on the couch, in PJ's, watching Nascar with hubs.

Gone were the days where I would wake from my nightly slumber, eat breakfast and go right back to bed.

Oh naps,  how I have missed you.

Now naps entail either sleeping with one of them or both of them. 

Nice but not quite the same as the pre kid nap.

Now one of them so much as sighs in their sleep,  and my spidey senses tingle and I shoot out of bed.

I'm pretty sure I haven't had REM sleep in years.

Which is why I am pretty darned happy about J reaching this milestone.

Or I was.

Until SOMEONE rained on my parade.

SOMEONE has decide that he now needs extra attention in the night, even though SOMEONE has been sleeping through the night for 2 years.

SOMEONE will not go to sleep at night anymore unless he has had a proper cuddle with Mommy and Daddy, In our bed, with all of his lovies, and his water cup.

SOMEONE has superior delay tactics that entail bathroom trips, whereby there is actual tinkle...hard to disregard that one since we just finished training.

SOMEONE 'S favorite tactic is running back and forth between his room and our room, laying in bed with us until he is tired, then makes his way back to where he started.

A boomerang if you will.

This boomerang child will go back and forth some 5 times.

Sometimes each interval lasts 20 minutes.

Sometimes he isn't getting to bed until 10pm...way too late.

Sometimes I want to lock him up in his room with the door knob thingies that I used to used but removed because I love a good cuddle.

IN.  THE.  MORNING.

I'm pooped.

I need my sleep.

He needs his sleep.

Never have I looked more forward to daylight savings to try and trick his internal clock into going to bed sooner.

That boomerang needs to find his way back into his bed...at 7:30.

Just like the good ole days.

So I can enjoy some ZZZZZZZZZ's

Nighty Night.

Project 12, Project Big Boy, and Project Bad Mommy

Lets start with Project Bad Mommy.

A certain three year old who was overtired from yesterday, indecisive, and stubborn wanted to go for a walk this morning.

It ended very badly, with my face being clawed, a spank on the bottom in the middle of our street, ALOT of screaming (some from me, some from him), some kicking, almost making a connection with my face and neighbours putting their heads down and walking quickly into their homes.  (okay there was only one neighbour and I think he was in the house before all the action started)

I will say that my voice didn't raise until I was in the privacy of my own home, but it still was not one of my finer moments.

I do not enjoy losing my temper. 

I do not enjoy not feeling in control.

But reality is that it isn't always sunshine and lollipops right?

He promptly took a three hour long nap and woke up a different child, dancing singing, kissing, hugging.

Those are the moments I am going to remember I hope, not the tantrums.

On to Project Big Boy Phase Three.

He is doing great.

We had five warbrobe changes yesterday and only two today.

He even woke dry from his three hour nap.

YIPPEE for him!!!

And now Project 12.

I really enjoyed this months sketch:

I loved the photo collage, but I knew that I wasn't going to be able to reproduce it exactly because I get my photos printed at Blacks or Costco and they don't have alot of size options.

So I did the next best thing.  I created a collage in Picassa and played with the number of pictures that I wanted to include and sized it to an 8x10 picture.  I was really happy with how it actually turned out when I went to pick it up.  The picture of  it on the layout doesn't do it justice.

I also palyed with the colors of the prints, some sepia, some black and white and left the majority in color.   I think it looks pretty cool.

And here it is...

Simple but I love it.

Love the big picture of my Mom with the boys.

Love that it includes B.

Love that I am making sure I am including myself and ignoring the fact that I wore the same tshirt in two of the pictures, that my hair is always in a pony on my days off and that there isn't a stich of make-up on my face.  No one that I make these pages for really cares about that so I shouldn't either right?

Love that we got to do alot of fun things this month and that this project helps me remember it all, because honestly I am not sure I would have documented all these little moments if not for it.

Thanks for stopping by and reading my ramble.

x/o

J

I'm his.

As soon as I opened M's door this morning he said: "There's my Mommy!".

This was the first time he has refered to me as his, in the right context.

It made my heart all warm and fuzzy.

Now I am just waiting for the possessiveness to start in other areas.

Can you just hear the cries:  "THAT'S MY TOY!!!!"

Can't wait...

In other breaking news, J had some allergy testing done yesterday after some hive issues after introducing milk.

He is deffinately allergic to milk.

And...

Peanuts.

Greeeeeaaaaaaaaattttt.

I wasn't thrilled to hear this news.

We are the proud new owners of an epipen.

We have to take him for a blood test to determine the degree or severity of the allergy.

The Dr. felt that it wasn't severe but it has to be treat as such until he is 5, at which time a "Peanut Challenge" will occur.

For the time being this also means that M will not have any peanut butter or foods that may contain, as he may contaminate J accidently.

I don't think he will miss it.  He is more of a honey on toast kind of kid.

But I will need to be more careful, as will B.

I will become a label reader at the grocery store.

It was also communicated to us that he has a 75% chance of developing asthma because of these allergies, combined with his diminishing excema.

Ugh.

My head and heart are telling me they are not serious allergies and that he will outgrow the milk allergy by 2 and the peanut allergy by 5.

I already bought some soy milk this morning and J drank 3 ounces.

YAY!!! 

Let the weening begin!

Off to watch the WonderPets with the turkey and the monkey.

And to read my Flyers.  ;)

Have a great weekend.

A word on manners

I was brought up to mind my P's and Q's.

We excused ourselves from the dinner table.

We ate what was placed in front of us.

We didn't speak to grownups unless spoken to.

It was a bit of a tight ship.

Manners are important.

It tickles me that M now asks for things prefaced by "please."

And when he doesn't want something he will say "no thank you".

Mind you sometimes if he really doesn't want it he will scream it.

Manners are the reason why I don't like most people.

Or I should say lack there of.

I really didn't appreciate the lady at Costco this a.m. who felt that she had paid her dues and therefore should be able to charge through the crowd with her shopping cart without so much as a blink of an eye when she nearly ran down me and my son.

So I offered up these words to her:
"I believe  the words that you are looking for are, pardon me and I'm sorry"

This snide remark was rewarded  with a dirty look to which I gave her my best stare down.

I've got at least 2o years on you lady...don't push my sleep deprived buttons.

Here's the thing.

She couldn't have been brought up that way could she have been?

Surely she knows what she did was wrong, does she not?

It can't possibly be that she feels such a sense of entitlemnet to that particular ilse space that she would actually plow down bystanders.

Right?

I'm so glad I'm bringing my kids up in this world.

*sigh*

This is why I don't like most people.

And just because I don't want to leave you thinking I'm all snarky today a pic of the boys in their christmas sweaters made by Grammy H.

Sleep

If there is one thing that Moms obsess over more than anything else, it is sleep.

Either that their child doesn't nap long enough,

Doesn't go to sleep on their own,

Wakes in the night...

I 'm sure we could all make a mountain of a list citing all the grievances we have with sleep issues.

And you probably have a mountain of resources citing the many techniques used to get your babies to sleep.

Unless of course you are one of *those* who has a baby that has slept through the night since 6 weeks...and is a good napper.

If you are that Mama...you are lucky.

I'm not that Mama.

M woke every two hours until he was 11 months. It then filtered down to once or twice a night.

Then magically at 16 months he slept through the night.

I tried letting him cry it out.

He and I were both not cut out for it.

I include him in this equation because instead of the crying getting shorter, it got longer.

And I wasn't up to the task....all 4 times that I tried.

After three nights of it getting worse, not better, I stopped.

I never once made it past 45 minutes.

I'm okay with this, but I wasn't at the time.

I tormented myself that I should try harder and that my inconsistencies would ruin his sleep habits forever.

He is now a great sleeper.

A solid 11 hours per night and usually a 2 hour nap after lunch.

Enter J.

I told myself that I wasn't going to get myself worked up over his sleep habits.

I let him nap when he wanted.

He had a routine instead of a schedule.

He slept like a dream until 4 months...then it all went to sh*t.

He is now waking every two hours, and my patience is dwindling.

I have been letting him cry just long enough to figure out that I don't jump to attention for his Majesty.

But his personality is so different than M's.

He is so much more expressive. You know when he means business.

Which is why again I am having a hard time with the whole CIO technique.

I would like to take that technique and shove it up the nostrils of the persons responsible for making Mamas feel like they have to do this to get their child to sleep.

I did it tonight to J. He cried maybe for 10 or 15 minutes while I shushed him and rubbed his back.

When he stopped and rolled on his tummy and closed his eyes, he did that weird, can't catch my breathe after crying so hard, thing.

It has been all I can think about all night. Poor babe.

It makes me feel like a crappy Mom.

Interestingly enough however, I am not alone.

I know his because I consulted my new magazine that just happened to have a feature on sleep.

Check out these statistics based on almost 1000 peeps with babies’ surveyed from Today’s Parent Mag:

• 53% of babies between 6 to 12 months wake most nights...woowza.
• 20% wake more than 3 times ...That's me folks.
• 53% tried controlled crying...Have you?
• 36% tried controlled crying before the recommended 6 months....I know someone who did it at 6 weeks with success.
• 43% who tried it started a round of it 4 or 5 times...that's me again.
• 80% of parents and experts make controlled crying sound easier and more foolproof than it is...Sooo true.
• 73% of parents rated it as stressful on the parents...really Sherlock?
• 63% rated it as stressful on the child. *crickets*

They concluded that in the cases that it didn't work it was due to the fact that the parents didn't believe in the technique, disagreed that they could actually control their child’s sleep habits, or had no support .

I fall into the first two of those explanations.

So why did I do it? Why am I trying it with J? To say that I did? Because it feels like the expectation? Because maybe it might only be 10 minutes of crying before he falls into a blissful sleep?

I have no clue.

I told myself I wasn't going to get wrapped up in this crap and here I go again.

And I know he will eventually sleep through the night, on his own, bunked in with his brother.

I know in my heart it will happen.

Eventually right?

Right????

Sleeping  babies are probably the most beautiful things in the world...so peaceful.

*sigh*

Nighty Night.

Tales from the potty and other randomness

So I think...*think* the time has come.



He has been peeing in the tub for some time.



We bought the potty seat with the cars all over it, along with big boy undergarments in August.



Yep....August.



We talk about it all the time.



Project Big Boy Phase Three has been creeping forward for months.



MONTHS.



With no pressure, no time lines.



When he is ready it will happen.



Four days ago he said he wanted to pee on the toilet.



His words were "I'd like to pee on the twoiyolet".



Okay Bud off we go.



And he did.



Pee that is.



And he did the day after.



Today I think it might be a little bit of way to get Mommy's attention.



Because I bought a stool to sit on while he does his business.



And we read stories.



And we banter back and forth about how he would like to pee in the twoiyolet and I tell him that I would like him to pee in the toilet.



He gets off.



He gets back on.



We read more stories.



We giggle.



Yup... This is me starting to Potty Train.



I have presents bought for the big day and everything.



No frickin clue what I'm doing but I'm sure it will happen.



Eventually.



My Baby is growing up. Makes me a little sad.



Not much is happening around the D/H household.



It has been cold.



I have felt a little housebound.



I am watching the Superbowl with hubs....mostly just to catch some of the commercials.



The Bud commercial made me teary..."Nothing comes between friends, not even fences."



Beautiful commercial but I'm not so sure how much weight I would put into that statement, but that is a whole other topic.



What are you doing tonight?

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!

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.

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

In an instant

I snapped.
On three separate occasions.
Maybe it was just fatigue,
maybe it was this damn cold that hasn't left our family for 8 days,
maybe it was that he just.  wouldn't.  listen.

How many times does he have to climb the entertainment unit in one day?
How many times does he have to shake the christmas tree?
Stand on the table?
Try to climb on the stove?
How many times do I have to say no before he gets that what he is doing is dangerous?
How many times do I have to tell him to stop pressing the open/close button on the DVD player?
How many times do I have to tell him it is time for a bath?
How many times do I have to tell him to lie still while I put his diaper on?

Apparently one zillion.

Or at least that is what it felt like.

And it all ended with my coming so close to being the parent that I have no desire to be.

And I wonder if in his little head he wonders why I raised my voice so much today.
If he thinks I don't love him.
That he doesn't love me.

This Mom thing is hard.

And I feel like a complete lump of terd right now.
For letting my temper get the best of me,
For forgeting that he is two.
For sending him to his room......twice.
For having to pin him down to get his diaper on.

I don't like myself very much right now.
But I don't doubt my love for that kid.
I whispered how much I loved him as I stroked his little head as he climbed into bed,
I told him tomorrow I would try harder to be the Mom he deserves to have.

One that is patient,
That explains things better,
That puts child locks on everything so he dosn't have the opportunity to climb...
The one that doesn't have to struggle with her child in order to put a stupid daiper and pair of pj's on.


Tomorrow I will try.
Because it can happen in an instant.
And I don't ever want to  be that parent.

Important Bulletin

Dear Child of Mine that has acquired a new blood curdling screech:




The administration of the D/H household requires you to cease and desist this behavior effective immediately during the following activities:

1. Upon waking.

2. During the consumption of any meal at the family dinner table.

3. While requesting further food that you may or may not consider a treat.

4. While you are waiting ever so patiently for the family to get packed up for an outing.

5. While we are shopping at the grocery store.

6. While I am driving.

7. During quiet times such as Naps or while viewing "the Wonderpets".

8. During bath time.

9. While playing with your friends

10. At bedtime.



Please be advised that this list is non-inclusive and that management at the D/H household reserves the right to make any amendments at any given time


Failure to comply WILL result in the prompt removal of your presence from my presence, into your bedroom until said screeching stops.


And please be thankfull that it does not result in your bum being grass and my hand being the lawnmower.


Sincerely and assertively yours,


The Administration at the D/H household.


AKA your Mom and Dad who may just whoop your butt if it doesn't stop.


Seriously........

SLEEP

I am sooo over it.

I swear that is all anyone talks about to a new MOM.

"How does he sleep?"

"Does he sleep through the night?"

"My baby slept through the night by now....."

"You let him sleep in your bed. *tisk tisk* That will be a hard habit to break."

"You are still nursing him in the night? You need to stop that before it becomes a habit...he doesn't need it."

"You lie down, nurse, rock him to sleep?" *tisk tisk*

For the record......

J WAS a good sleeper then it all went to crap.

M occasionally wakes at night.

I suffer from insomnia usually between 2am and 5am.

I have a sarcastic smile which is used when I think you are full of sh*t, bragging about your babies wonderful sleep habits.

I want to slap you a little bit when you say things like " We didn't want to be THAT parent."

Babies sleep better on their tummies, which is why your baby slept through the night some 39 years ago. Today we put them on their backs; it's safer.

Breastfed babies don't usually sleep through the night. (Don't fight me on this peeps. I have done my own statistical analysis.)

No, a bottle of formula is not going to help.

CIO doesn't work for all babies and it's not because I did it wrong. FYI I think it sucks!

I just don't care that much anymore. I spent far too long trying to figure out what I was doing wrong. And the answer is this:

Nothing.

I did nothing wrong.

I just believe that babies are all programed differently to sleep.

We all have different personalities, why should our sleep personality all be the same?

He WILL one day sleep through the night.

They all do eventually.

I would rather spend my days enjoying their itty bitty-ness.

It goes by too fast to be hung up on something as silly as sleep don't ya think?

I'm DONE!

I have had it.

Really I have.

TWO SUCKS!!!!

Where did my sweet, sweet baby boy go?

Why the heck is he acting like this?

Was it something I said?

Was it something I did?

I can't help but blame myself.

I know he is going through allot.

Project Big Boy Phase One and Two are difficult.

He goes down for a nap screaming bloody murder.

I swear the neighbours think I am beating him.

He has this new scream that is blood curdling.

It gives me a twitch.

I clench every time he does it.

My blood boils.

I try to talk myself down and calmly explain to him what his choices are.

Serenity now...serenity now.

It's not working.

And I feel like I have no one to blame but me.

How can I go from beaming with pride at him one moment,

to wanting to put my foot up his butt the next.

please excuse the frankness but really, if you heard that scream..........

I really have to call upon all of my patience to get through this transition.

Wish me luck.

Do you ever feel like a horse's behind?

I do this morning.

Project Big Boy continues.

It is getting marginally better each day.

Like by maybe a millimetre.

And this morning in a toddler fit of rage,

caused by his not wanting to get dressed,

I had a glimpse into the depths of his mouth.

Guess what I saw?

Way back at the top......

Two honking molars that maybe broke through this week.

And I thought he had all of his teeth.

Yep.

A horses ass I am.

For yet again feeling like I didn't do the right thing at the right time.

And guess what?

I have a feeling that this horse's ass feeling probably doesn't really ever go away.

Does it?

Project Big Boy, Phase One, Take Two.

Days after we brought J home from the hospital I decided it was time to ditch the bottle.

M had just turned two.

I thought it was time.

I started slow.

I gave it to him while reading stories on our bed for a week.

All went well...sorta....

Then I gave it to him on the couch before story time.

All hell broke loose.

He went hysterical, flung himself out of the crib, smashing his head in the process.

No blood, no broken bones, two broken hearts.

Hubs and Sis weighed in and suggested that maybe the timing was off.

We did JUST bring home a new baby brother for him and his world changed dramatically.

You never saw me fly down the stairs and get a bottle faster.

Yes I caved.

Don't judge me.

That was three months ago.

Three days ago we tried again.

I saw him show an interest in a cup that had a straw and thought to myself, "Here is my chance."

I have been promoting it as the "Big Boy Nighty Night Cup".

I have every one in the house cheering him on before he goes for naps and to bed for the night.

First night, a little whimper but it was new and he was WAY tired.

He fell asleep fast.

Check!

Day two, Nap time.

SCREAMING BLOODY MURDER.

Puppy goes flying overboard.

Howling persists for 30 minutes.

I cave and enter room to save puppy.

Who am I kidding?

I went in to make sure I haven't traumatized my son again.

You see I have a knack for doing things at the wrong time.

Just last week we changed his room around and put the toddler bed in.

Maybe not strange to you but my Son is a creature of habit and routine and didn't adjust well and is still not overly keen that from his crib the view is not the same as it has been for the last 16 months.

Add to that the fact that I am working again.

And by work I mean watching some one else's child.

Just another person to take this Mommy's attention away.

Smooth move Mommy.

Any whoooooo, I rescue puppy, lie my traumatized child down as he whimpers "mooommmeeeeeee" in his most pathetic voice, and walk out.

He fell asleep.

Thank the good heavens above.

Night time arrives and I'm nervous.

We had a big day, he was tired.

I hand over the cup and say Goodnight.

Not. A. Peep.

PHEEEW!

Tonight...the fit was back.

I sent in reinforcements.

Reinforcements felt it was appropriate to put him in his big boy bed for the night.

Smooth move reinforcement.

Have we not learned from our mistakes.

Too much change for M at one time = DISASTER!!!!????

One hour later, reinforcement looks at me and says "Is that our Son?"

Me...."Fill in the blank."

Reinforcement goes up to find M in the closet.

In the dark, in the closet.

Reinforcement sent him packing back to the crib.

One. Hour. Later.

JEESH.

Day 4 tomorrow.

Wish me luck

BUT....

Don't judge me for the following:

1. Giving my child a bottle of milk to go to bed when he is almost 2 1/2.

2. Giving my child a cup of milk to go to bed.

Yes I am aware that it is bad for their NON permanent teeth.

That is just how we roll.

Someday you will have to make those decisions and they are tough to make.

And I will support you.

Parenting is the toughest thing you and I will ever have to do.

Nighty Night!

This Time.

This time I am a different Mom.


Not better,


Not worse,


Just different.


This time I don’t care if he doesn’t wear all his outfits.


This time I don’t feel anxious when he doesn’t nap.


This time I’m not overly concerned that he is not on a schedule.


This time I don’t change diapers in the middle of the night unless
ABSOLUTELY necessary.

This time I don’t jump the minute he whimpers.


This time I don’t care if he wakes up the house at night crying.


I’m just trying to enjoy these moments.


I already know they zip by.


This time I am just going with the flow.














Some sentiments and a photo that I scrapped this weekend.
My uber talented friend Lisa Kisch took these photos in August.
I just love the angle that she shot, but I REALLY love the expression on my face, Not harried or weary that my baby is crying. Just smiling and enjoying the moment.
Thank you Lisa!