Cute Comment Of The Day!

"Ot Moo" ... "Hot Moo" - in reference to bedtime milk, milk that has been warmed up.

Pee In The Potty

A few days ago when Bulldozer woke up I asked him if he'd like to wear his "big boy underwear". He very enthusiastically said "YES!". I had bought him Hanes boxer-briefs to look just like Daddy - yes people, you know what my Husband wears! The underwear were adorable, multi-coloured with the band of elastic just like adult underwear. So we start out with boxers number one. Bulldozer is playing in his room and calls me to come... I walk in to see a puddle of pee in front of his bookshelf, right in the corner. I give him the "Accidents happen, Mommy will change your underwear and next time we'll just go to the potty." Pair of boxers number two. I walk into his room just in time to catch him back in his corner, relieving his bladder again. I say the same schpeel. boxers number three. This time I offer to bring his potty right into his room, he agrees so I set it up right in his pee place. Third time's a charm. He makes it to the potty and when he's done I offer to let him empty the pot and clean it out. If there's anything that responds well to Bulldozer it's cleaning! He has a great dumping the pee out in the toilet, putting soap into the pot and then rinsing it out with water. After setting the potty back up I drag my butt to do laundry again. Not even five minutes later... "MOMMY, MOMMY, MOMMY, I DO IT!" I run into the room and Bulldozer's peed the equivalent to two drops of pee. He picks up the pot and it's off to the bathroom to complete the whole cleaning ritual again! This happened another two times (peeing drops into the potty) until he peed himself and then wanted to wear a diaper again. I'm wondering ... how does one child have so much pee in him?

I Actually Have Time To Read!

"Multiple Choice" (by Claire Cook) is my book of choice right now. Maybe not my first choice but it is the book that I am reading. Miss Chibougamau gave it to me when she moved out to the far north and I actually had the opportunity to start it when I went to the doctor's office yesterday. I'm undecided what I think of it. It's definitely not bad and at some parts I even think that it might be really good... except that I just can't seem to connect. The daughter in the story is a university student and the whole book revolves around the relationship between her and her mother. She's moved away for life in the dorms and the relationship that she has with her mother is hindered by her unpleasant teenage attitude. She says things like "Oh my God. I bet the whole station already knows you're my mother. I'm going to die" (in respect to working at the same place as her mom). Or, "Oh that's right, this is all my fault." She's a twelve or thirteen-year-old caught in an eighteen -year-olds' body. The mother in the story argues that college aged kids are the worst because they are the most obnoxious , does this actually resemble real life? A little wild, perhaps. Irresponsible, maybe. Using phrases like "You're so embarrassing!" and "Don't wear that, you'll embarrass me in front of my friends!"; unlikely. I think by that time you've graduated from surly teenager to an almost mature older teenager! You'd have to ask my Mom but I don't remember using those lines on her... at least not at that age!

Wildfire

The wee little one has the most beautiful smile in the world. I know it's not fair to say that one child's smile is superior to the other one's but he has this totally engaging, brighten up your day smile that starts slowly and spreads like wildfire. Even the tips of his little ears react by twitching. The one downfall is that often it's just not that easy to convince the wee little one to actually smile. He could be in a seemingly good mood and you appear in his line of vision and oh, there he goes, he's wailing like he's been tortured or something. And believe you me, this kid can wail! Sometimes you make silly faces and dance the jig and no reaction at all. Other days you're not even looking at him but he's watching you and his face will light up like the sun. Of course the weird man at the restaurant can make him smile out of the blue! A smile that is slow to appear but genuine, is far better than a fake one.

As I write this he's giggling up a storm with his Daddy and I'm thankful for these happy times!

A Premonition

Some call it extrasensory perception, I prefer to peg my experience as a premonition... Last night the whole family went to McDonald's for supper and then out to run a few errands. To try and cut down on some time, Hubby and I went our separate ways to run the last two errands. It was getting late (on the Mommy clock anyways), it was dark and snow was falling. (Don't get me started on that one, Monday was 16 degrees and yesterday was -3!) I'm walking along lugging the bag of groceries from the store and this odd feeling washed over me. Perhaps it was because I'm generally not out at nighttime by myself anymore or maybe I really did have a "feeling" that something was going to happen. So I round the corner of the major street we live near and come to a stop at the lights. Unlike the regular move a Montrealer would pull, I actually wait for the light to turn green and the man to appear before I step off the curb. First mistake... There's an SUV waiting on the opposite side (in the turning lane), I see him and he doesn't move. I have the walk signal so I step off the sidewalk and start to walk. I'm almost halfway across the street when he guns his engine, quickly moves to turn and then at the very last second slams on the breaks. No joke, his front bumper touched my body and had he not braked sooner, I would be under the wheels of his vehicle! Did he not see me? Did he not care? My heart lurched. No near death experiences like my life flashing before my eyes but I did feel my heart lurch out of my chest, nestle itself in my throat and tell my stomach that maybe it was time to vacate the McDonald's we had eaten for supper. I was flustered to say the least. Not knowing what else to do I started yelling at the guy's open window and he just shrugged his shoulders and took off. No I didn't get his licence plate. I was just too shaken up to prove to be effective in any way! I had a good cry afterwards and felt slightly revived. The accident happened way too close to my "b*$%# corner" though and I'm starting to think that whole area is just not blessed with good energy...

Snow, seriously?

Really? Snow? Seriously? Yesterday we were out gardening; it was sunny and beautiful. I was in a tank top and hubby was shirtless. This morning I look out the window and there are huge, fat snowflakes streaking across the horizon. It's a whopping -3 degrees outside and I'm wondering how it's possible that we dropped almost 20 degrees overnight? All my dreams about gardening and the likes are blurred from the falling snow. If Hubby was home I'd be crawling back to bed to snuggle deep into the blankets, enjoying a mid morning snooze. Then I'd make my way to the couch and curl up there with a blanket and a book... only breaking for a snack or meal. I can dream right?

Secret Garden

Want to know my secret to gardening? Letting my husband do the hard physical labour and to sit back with a good book and a glass of iced tea... to supervise! Slowly but surely we're making progress, here's a picture of what it looks like so far.

"The Hidden House"

Every night I read Bulldozer his bedtime stories and I thought I'd share some of my favorite ones with you. This particular one was given to me by Miss Chibougamau and it's called "The Hidden House" (by Martin Waddell and Angela Barrett). It's so refreshing to read a children's book that's not only written so well but the pictures are art that's worthy of telling a story on their own. The words themselves are simply written but I love the extravagant names of the wooden dolls in the story; Maisie, Ralph and Winnaker. Names with pizazz. I actually felt myself feeling sad for the dolls and their experience with the hidden house and recommend the book to pretty much anyone, my two-year-old loves it but I'm sure any adult can appreciate the majestic feel to this story.

A Crazy Pill

This morning Bulldozer awoke with just a little more than an ounce of insanity! I'm not sure what it was that he ate in his sleep, whether it was an entire gallon of ice cream or pure sugar from a bowl, he woke up wired and ready to go! From running around the shopping mall like a maniac to "amusing" our guests over dinner, he just didn't stop. Amazingly enough he fell asleep, probably tired from all the overexertion of energy!

I wish I had that much energy! On a good day, and I mean good, I'm able to get through my entire day without a nap. I remember being a teenager and jumping around barely being able to sit still for five minutes and talking non-stop. Now I wake up as late as I can without feeling too guilty for making my husband do child duty (sometimes he's up as early as 5AM), I take a midday nap to ward off that afternoon sluggishness and go to bed by, ummmm... 10 or 10:30PM! If I had half as much energy as my rambunctious two-year-old I'd be in good shape!

A Farewell!

Last night I went out to dinner and drinks with a good friend of mine. She's leaving to move to, get this, Chibougamau! We spent the night joking about Chibougamau which was actually quite therapeutic because when you don't have to talk about the fact that you're separated by an approximate ten hour drive and a whole lot of northern Quebec wilderness, all that is left is laughter!

In a town of about eight thousand people Chibougamau has about nine bars, no coffee shops or movie theatres but they do have a McDonald's! I wonder how my vegetarian friend is going to make it in a place that boasts gun repair shops for hunting and doesn't actually have a vegetarian meal on menu at the local restaurants! By the way, noodles without the meat sauce is not considered vegetarian, thank goodness she knows how to cook! Well in all fairness the rent is really cheap in Chibougamau...

I can joke all that I want but I'll miss you Chicky! If you read this, take care of yourself out there, don't forget us back here and stay clear of Jean-Guy's!

When It Rains It Pours

So as I commented yesterday I'm sick as a dog. Then this morning Bulldozer was up at the awful hour of 4AM and came to our room to wake us up. Hubby asked him what was wrong and he pointed to that cute little button nose of his and said "icky". Poor boo wasn't feeling very good but we managed to get him back to bed without too much fuss. Wee little one has been sleeping more these last few days so I have a feeling that he's fighting off something as well. And then there's Hubby himself. Is he sick??? No, of course not. Yesterday's tickle in his throat has miraculously disappeared and he's his regular self this morning! Grrr... the rest of us get sick to the point of being useless and he must have the defense system of a fortress or something! So I'm off to use my natural (or almost natural) remedies! Here's my recipe for feeling better:

1. Tylenol (helps control the chills, headaches and general achiness)
2. Gargle with salt water (I find the more often, the better)
3. A teaspoon of honey with powdered ginger sprinkled on top (burns going down but feels good; acts as a numbing agent)
4. Boil fresh ginger and water to make ginger tea (Mmmmm...)
5. Chicken noodle soup (an oldie but a goody!)
6. A shower (feels horrible if you have the chills but helps to lift your spirits afterward)
7. Heat pack (lying down on one helps me to feel semi-comforted)
8. Massages always help! "*Ahem* Hubby *Ahem*"

And when nothing else works, just give in and purchase a box of Dayquil/Nightquil, they work wonders! Just remember to ween yourself off at the end or you will feel worse!

Wet Lungs and Little Sleep

I feel infectious. My lungs feel like a gooey, icky, sticky mass of germ-infested nastiness. I can't seem to lie down without feeling like suffocating... not a good mix for someone who lost an awful lot of sleep last night! Why did I lose my well-needed sleep you ask? Good question. A certain someone (no names mentioned) decided that he did not want to sleep last night and since we are spoiled parents who require an awful lot of shuteye, I find myself quite perturbed today! Yes, I said it! Our boys are wonderful sleepers and I know a lot of people may want to slaughter us but our toddler sleeps ten hours straight (it used to be more!) and our wee little one sleeps for an even longer stretch, usually about eleven hours! And do you know what my payback is for being blessed with wonderful sleeping babies? The goop in my lungs and the chills that infiltrate my very being! ICK.

Chaos

You'd think a funeral was going on here today. Hubby's on six months of paternity leave but after a mere two months or so we realized that surviving on just a portion of his salary was almost impossible! Paying bills, yes. Making it out of the house to do something other than go to the park with the boys, not so much. Two months spent at home is wonderful and yet terribly boring! By the government's parental leave rules he's allowed to work up to a certain percentage of his weekly salary so he can make up for the portion they don't pay him. So he's gone back one day a week to make us some spending money.

This morning the atmosphere was solemn. Bulldozer was upset that Daddy wasn't going to be around today and started taking it out on me! He was shaking his sippy cup up and down and up and down and of course I told him to stop. Then he looked at me defiantly and turned the cup upside down and let his apple juice spill all over the coffee table! Timeout. But after the timeout I asked him if he was sad because Daddy had gone to work... "Yeah", he said with tears welling up in his eyes and then pouring down his cheeks. I enveloped him with my arms and stroked his hair. Poor booger didn't understand exactly why his Daddy wasn't going to be around when he's spent every day for the last two months with him. Wee little one on the other hand had no clue. He sat in his baby chair smiling and cooing.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

There's something about a rainbow that just makes you smile. Yesterday we had a quick downpour and when it was done this absolutely gorgeous rainbow appeared. It spanned the whole sky in a perfect arch that framed our neighbourhood in colour. Bulldozer and Hubby were cuddled up watching this magnificent beauty. I ran to get my camera to capture the moment and when I looked over at the houses around us, we weren't the only ones! There's just something about those types of experiences that fill you with warmth and comfort. Thank you rainbow for making my day.

BMW

My Hubby and I don't own a car so we depend on the BMW method ... bus, metro and walk, in other words public transportation. Sounds like it should have leather seats and air conditioning but usually it's just overcrowded, smelly and late! You get used to it though and I've been taking public transit for years now so it's just another part of everyday life. However there's been numerous "incidents" on the bus that have irked me beyond belief and have launched my evening prayers for a vehicle that I don't have to share with anyone! The absolute worst fact about buses is that nobody likes people with strollers! Apparently everyone else in the world is allowed to take buses EXCEPT for those of us with kids, interesting isn't it? And because of this common consensus that moms with children are a bother, a few strangers have said or done things that make me want to rethink my decision to not practise violence on others! Extreme you might think. Let me tell you some of these stories and you may change your mind.

One day Hubby and I get on a bus and it is packed beyond belief. We try to stand out of the way but there are people in every seat and floor space available! Two women get on after us and one of them (very loudly I might add) says, "I can't believe these people and their stupid carriages, I used to take my son in a carrier all the time." First of all thank you for making references to "these people" and "stupid strollers" when you're obviously talking about me and my stroller, standing only two feet away! So I turn to her and answer, "well what are we supposed to do, we don't have the right to take the bus too?" No response. I just spent nearly $800 on a compact stroller that would conveniently carry two children and you're complaining?!? Second of all, if my back was good enough to load one child on the front of myself and one on the back, I still wouldn't do it! Third of all, I don't complain about your presence so don't complain about mine! Rude people.

The next story is probably the one that my Husband will rant about the most! One night we're heading home on a bus and our wee little one is laying down in the stroller which is covered on the back with plastic (it was really cold) and the other seat for the second child almost sits on top of the first one so it's like he's totally enclosed. Wee little one is screaming his head off because he's tired and this woman looks over in horror and yells "he's suffocating!" I could just see the fire in Hubby's eyes! He shoots back, "I think I'd know if I'm suffocating my own child" and asks her to mind her own business! Seriously though? Would we put our beautiful baby in danger, really? I know she doesn't know us but how rude is it to yell something like that out on a crowded bus. If you're really that concerned come over and express your thoughts, other than that get lost!

Last but not least is the total lack of respect when it comes to other people. I can't tell you how many times I've stood eight and a half months pregnant with our toddler in the stroller and no body's offered their seat on a packed bus. I'm starting to think that maybe people believe that since I've brought on my state (being pregnant I mean!), then I should deal with the consequences. When a ten pound weight is pushing on your bladder, your ankles are larger than your thighs, you can't even see your own feet if you tried and your back aches from the large bowling ball on the front of you, I'd like you to reevaluate your decisions! Actually for the common good of all, it's actually in your best interest to give up your seat for that pregnant woman on the bus!

"These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things..."

"These are a few of my favorite things. When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I'm feeling sad, I simply think of a few of my favorite things and then I don't feel so bad." The soundtrack from the Sound of Music is playing in my head! I'd like to share some of my favorite things (in relation to the kids/family):

1. I was out all day and Hubby was home with the kids. A few minutes before I returned home he told Bulldozer that I'd be there soon and he took off running to his room. He pulled out a shirt from his drawers and started trying to put it on his legs! If only everyone in the world cared enough to dress up for you!

2. Bulldozer is way too hyper to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time but at night I have a special time that I get to share just with him. He brings me books (always one more than I've actually agreed to read!) so I can read him his bedtime stories. He curls up against my side and actually sits still and lets me rub his hand and play with his hair! I wouldn't trade that time for anything!

3. Bulldozer nicknamed our wee little one "Turtle" one day and it has just stuck! I suppose he really does resemble a turtle when he's laying on his tummy with his neck stretched out so he can see around him. :)

4. Breastfeeding hasn't been easy but I've been able to continue nursing before the wee one's bedtime and once during our mid afternoon nap ... another luxury I wouldn't change for the world!

5. Yesterday our toddler was trying to tell us about an experience and we just weren't getting it. He kept saying "Buppy" and "Baba" which are his words for my Dad and bottles (or trucks!) respectively. I asked him if he meant that he had seen a truck with Grandpa? "NO!" I asked him if Grandpa had given him a bottle? "NO!" Apologizing for my ignorance I could see how much he wanted me to understand. This has to be the cutest thing I've ever seen: He says "Buppy" (my Dad - his Grandpa), followed by "Baaah" (the sound a sheep makes, I mean obviously even he knows that!) and then he acts out petting an animal by stroking the air with his hand! I finally got it! My Dad had taken him to the mall to pick out his birthday present almost a month ago and they had a farm indoors for the Easter holidays. Bulldozer fell in love with the sheep and my Dad picked him up so he could pet the sheep! Thus explaining the sequence: "Buppy" "Baaah" and the gentle petting of the air! :)

6. Watching my Husband with the kids. It reminds me how wonderful of a dad he is!

7. The wee little one's smile. He has the most contagious of smiles and no matter how bad of a mood I'm in, it instantly lifts my spirits when he smiles at me!

Obviously there are so many more but those were the ones that were on my mind ! A good night to all.

Critters

My husband's arachnophobia has reached new levels. He just offered to hairspray the spider, albeit the large spider, in our window and then light a match. I'm starting to worry.

Nothing's For Free!

My Hubby and I did some spring cleaning right before the Easter holidays. We figured we'd post our findings on a buy and sell website and see what we could get! It wasn't like we asked for unreasonable amounts of money in exchange for our goods but when it was all said and done, I think we sold two single items of clothing! I kept re posting the stuff hoping that someone would see it and take it off of our hands. Thank goodness my Husband is on paternity leave or all the time I spent working on the stupid ads would have been wasted time! Finally after a few weeks of re posting and receiving not a single response, I gave up and decided to give everything away for free! That saying came to my mind... "Nothing in life is free", so true!

With all the unusual responses we got, the stories that were meant to persuade and the sheer volume of calls/e-mails I really don't know if I'd consider going through the whole process again! Our free ride of getting rid of all the stuff that we no longer needed combined with not having to take it out of the house ourselves, ended up being quite a headache. I posted the items at about 9pm one evening with specific instructions not to call after 8pm thinking "you wake my kids up and you'll not only walk away without a single thing but I'll kill you too." However I knew that first thing the next morning it would be a circus with phone calls and people coming to visit. Sure enough a lady called first thing in the morning and offered to relieve us of all the (lots of) men's/women's clothing that we had. In the meantime another women called and offered to pick up some baby stuff that we had and said if we had men's clothing to give away she'd possibly take some for her teenage sons. Fair enough. She then tells my husband how she has SIX kids and is pregnant with her seventh! Apparently like us they are trying for a girl and well, as you can imagine haven't quite hit the jackpot yet! So before woman #1 shows up to pick up the clothing I figure we'll set aside some of the random men's clothing that weren't part of the lot, so she could have them. Both women showed up and took their share of stuff but "seven kid Momma" didn't take any of the clothing for her boys. Then there was a break in calls and I thought it was a little weird that more people weren't biting. It was that afternoon that I checked my e-mail and realized why exactly people weren't calling... Forty-five e-mails in total! Everything from "Is this a joke, are the items really for free?" to "Give me your address and I'll be there today!" What annoyed me was that I had put my phone number in the ad but they expected I'd go through the trouble of answering their e-mails anyway. And I did. One by one until they were all answered and deleted, I went through every single one of those letters! I can't even start to tell you the things I read. One woman was a divorced mother of three and could really use the clothes for her kids (by that time they were already gone) and hoped that I would save them for her until she "could find the time to come and pick them up". Another woman was disabled and had a teenage daughter who would love the clothes but could I please deliver them to her house??? I tried to remain sympathetic but with all the stories, I was getting a little leery of all the tales of poverty and misfortune. In the back of my head I kept wondering if it was all just a gimmick. Needless to say I didn't actually deliver any of our stuff to people who requested that it be brought to their house, I figure if you are really in need then you will find a way to get what you need. That's what I would do if I was in that situation. The topping on the cake so to say was a phone call I received from a lady who sounded like she has toked a little too much of something. She apologized for "not being able to help me out and take the stuff off my hands" because we didn't have the lot of women's clothes that she had so badly wanted. I giggled to myself because I'm telling you when you give stuff away for free, it's like letting the floodgates open and the last thing you have to worry about is still being left with items in the end! For the next time we decide to do something as stupid as letting ourselves be trampled on by the general public, I have learned a few important lessons:

1. Don't trust everything someone tells you. A lesson explained to me by my Mother who had the same sort of experience with a lady that ended up re posting all the items on a similar site later on. (Sorry to those of you who are actually genuine, the people who are just trying to get a free ride ruin it.)
2. Don't post numerous things for free at the same time. You don't have a clue what people are calling for and when you ask them what item they want, they can't seem to comprehend that there might be more than one to give away...
3. Take everything with a grain of salt. If the person who wants the item delivered no longer takes it because you refuse to deliver it, just disregard their ignorance. Most of us understand that it's rude to ask too much of a stranger!
4. Make firm guidelines and stick to them! If someone tries to walk all over you, just simply tell them "no"! You don't know these people and they have to learn an important lesson in life: "You Can't Always Get What You Want!" (Thank you Rolling Stones, a valuable lesson to be learned in life!)

M.I.C.E.

My husband has dubbed the intersection of our street and the connecting one my "B*$%# Corner". I'm really starting to wonder what it is about that spot that unleashes the fury. It's a pretty regular rant site and it's not intentional at all! Never do I think, well we're at the corner again, maybe I should complain about that rude person at the grocery store or what our landlord's newest antics are. It just seems to happen.

A couple of days ago the topic of conversation was mice. On our walk back from the grocery store we rounded that corner and all I could think of was how upset I was about the mouse issue in our apartment. I have never lived in a house with mice that ran free before and I have to admit it's a bit nerve wracking. I constantly worry about getting up in the middle of the night and having a mouse run with those little tiny feet of theirs, right over my own feet. I hear the scurrying in the walls (of our bedroom of all places) and it keeps me up at night imagining how many mice there could be. Get this, I've even had nightmares about the critters! I know I have a pet rodent in my residence but it's simply not the same thing. He's caged, cute and doesn't scurry around in my walls. He doesn't go through my cupboards and eat the labels off of my oil containers or make a regular appearance on my kitchen floor. I hate the mice. I want them gone. My Hubby set up traps with poison but we had to put them in out-of -the-way places so Bulldozer doesn't get into them. The first trap seemed to work. I mean the mouse managed to upturn the poison pellets everywhere so I'm assuming he gobbled at least one of them up which in turn would cause him to die and dry up in our walls! Heartless? Maybe but I'm not a fan of "vermin". The second trap was strategically placed in our bedroom behind the dresser and I don't think it has been visited once! So it's been approximately five months or so that we've been putting up with our "visitors" and they've definitely overstayed their welcome. Were they ever really welcome?

We're waiting for all of our neighbours to agree to exterminate together (our homes are all connected) so they'll be gone once and for all. I am a pretty understanding person or at least I'd like to think that I am. I have been quite patient considering the circumstances. I keep wondering if there is something more that we could do. Maybe we can train Dexter (our rodent) to give Stewart Little the boot, you know like a bouncer for our home! If I wasn't completely and utterly allergic to felines, I'd invite a pussycat in to take care of the problem. Oh-so-very-compassionate-Husband-of-mine has suggested waiting in the living room with a pellet rifle to ummm, "scare" them away! Serving an eviction notice has crossed my mind but what language do mice read? A swift kick in the behind is also, I believe, a worthwhile exertion of my energy but the buggers are quick!

P.S. Since you the mice have taken over and use our kitchen for eating, our bedroom for sleeping and our hallway for traversing between rooms, I can only assume that you also use our computer for personal use as well. If you read this, please accept our plea to vacate the premises and relocate somewhere else. That man who proceeded to almost run over our child at the mall with his scooter is first of my list for houses that would enjoy your presence. The man who works at the Vietnamese restaurant down the street is my second pick. Hey, if you could only live downstairs in our landlord's apartment and not ours, you could gladly pack your bag for an extended stay.

But She's Just A Baby...

I looked across the room and I saw her standing there. She was a pretty little thing. Wispy brown hair and bangs cut across her forehead in the way that mothers often cut their own daughter's hair. Dressed in jogging pants and matching sweatshirt, she appeared young and maybe even a bit naive. As she looked up I expected to meet eyes that were bright, maybe filled with ambition for the life that she had ahead of her. Instead I met with sad, listless eyes that had lost something along the way.

It was then that I noticed her hands protectively wrapped around her midsection. Even in this day and age I couldn't help but feel surprised. Here was this girl, this young girl (barely a teenager) in the midst of a pregnancy... Did she know how much love, heartache and tears were involved in mothering a child? Did she have someone who would be there with her, supporting her and encouraging her when times were tough? Was she going to drop out of school to have her child? Did her parents still support her? All these questions flooded my mind and I felt a wave of sadness overcome me. I silently prayed for her well being, for the well being of her baby and wondered why this girl that I didn't even know had such an effect on me.

Pooze Pooze

In our family poo isn't called poo or even poop, we call is "pooze pooze". Don't ask me where it started, probably as a slip of the tongue and then it morphed into another one of those words that only parents would dare to use! Imagine meeting another adult in a public place who suddenly declares "Excuse me I must go pooze pooze, I'll be right back"! That's what I love about kids though. There isn't that filter that stops them from saying what they really think. Okay, yes I know it can be awfully embarrassing when they let that little tidbit of information you didn't want anyone to know slip from their mouths. "My Daddy says that Auntie-so-and-so got a boob job!" Or maybe, "My Mommy does something called waxing to her face cause' she's got a lot of hair!" They don't mean to hurt or embarrass the ones they are talking about, they just haven't learned that some things are better left unsaid!

I have come to really appreciate this non caring attitude in our toddler. I take it in stride when he runs up to one of our friends, leans over to place his bum on their leg and makes a farting sound with his mouth! (I then realize that maybe it wasn't the best trick to teach him - it was just meant to be an inside joke with his Dad!) Perhaps it isn't even the most polite thing he could be doing but I figure he's only young once! Before you know it he'll be worried about what the kids in kindergarten think of his clothes or whether the little girl in his grade one class likes him or not. He'll be continually taught not to speak out of turn or laugh when someone falls on the ice (both good lessons, although the latter is actually pretty funny!). There is a whole lot of time for him to learn to be serious and to think before he speaks. That or he'll grow up being one of those guys who think it's funny to make farting sounds with their armpits! In the meantime I dream about putting a whoopy cushion under his butt for the first time and watching his body shake from gales of laughter!

My Oh My!

I'm watching a re-run of "17 Kids and Counting" on TLC (isn't it like "19 Kids and Counting" now?) and thanking the higher beings that I only have two children in my care! I went on the website for the show and watched a video of dinner in a house of twenty-one people! I'm not quite sure if I feel guilty for thinking that it's hard feeding a family of four or that you have to be totally insane to have THAT many children! I've been to restaurants that have less paying customers than the amount of people that sit at their table! I couldn't even count how many lasagnas they were using and I cringe when I think of buying fresh fruits and vegetables for all of those people! It's a very different lifestyle than most of us are used to. There is a reason why they have their own show!

As Hubby and I discuss babies on a fairly regular basis, I think about how three children would change our family dynamics. There would be a middle kid. We would have more children than parents, thus meaning that at least one of us would have to split our attention between two children. More laundry (oh how I'm starting to detest laundry), more cleaning, more nappies (Bulldozer will be out of nappies by that time ... right?) and more chaos (imagine three little ones vying for Mommy and Daddy's attention and affection!) All of a sudden grandparents would stop offering to babysit because it would become less like a fun sleepover and more like a small home daycare!

Would this prevent us from having more babies? Nope, not likely. However if we reach the point where our family of four is growing in numbers upwards to 17 please pray for my sanity and support us in our endeavour to find a TV show!

Four Minutes Is Peanuts & Reality Is Much Harsher

There has to be some sort of design to a women's memory that defies all logic!

When I was pregnant with my first son I watched my fair share of "A Baby Story", you know I had to be prepared for the whole birthing experience! I watched as the women screwed up their faces, moaned, pushed with style and tadah, out popped the baby! In all fairness the babies were actually covered in blood and had that wrinkly newborn look, reminiscent of a younger Yoda or something. Having been prepared for the whole course of events, when the day finally arrived I felt in control and calm!!! YA RIGHT! First I wake up at five o'clock in the morning with pain in my tummy like I've never experienced before. Each and every contraction felt like someone tearing my insides apart with a machete. The hospital pamphlets tell you to bear with the contractions and only come in when they are a regular distance and no longer than five minutes apart. In retrospect I could shove those pamphlets up somewhere on someone but that's besides the point. So I'm waiting patiently for my contractions to become regular while my Husband sits besides me stifling a smile because get this, he's happy! He's happy that our new baby is going to arrive shortly (that's another story!) and all that I'm thinking is, "I wish I could slap that smug grin off his pretty face!" So dutifully Hubby is recording all knife wrenches on a piece of paper when all of a sudden they jump from like nine minutes apart to like three! THREE! They continue at three minutes apart and the pain gets worse and worse. Then they drop down to two minutes and then one and a half minutes apart. "CALL THE AMBULANCE" I insist! Hubby then suggests we take a cab. I'm starting to wonder if I can kill him and hide the evidence. Finally I move to the bedroom to continue labouring, the Father-to-be calls 9-1-1 (with a little bit of gentle persuasion) and guess what? The operator on the line tells him to start getting ready for a home birth!!! What do you mean home birth? Those don't exist, they don't teach you that in birthing class. He's busy preparing clean sheet and towels and I'm torn between screaming from the pain of the contractions and freaking out over the possibility of a home birth. Just in time two ambulance technicians burst through the door and start examining the area in which this baby is supposed to exit. First, I'm starting to freak ... so it is actually true that I have to push this little one out from ummm, down there. Two, they decide that it's not actually that urgent because get this, HIS HEAD ISN'T CROWNING! (That word should never be used in conjunction with any other words used to discuss giving birth.) Next step: Now I'm probably going to get comments on how I'm being sexist buuuuttttt, one of the ambulance technicians is a woman and I've just gained a whopping sixty-five pounds (yes people, no lies) during my pregnancy, my thighs have ballooned to unprecedented proportions, my tummy and "love handles" are scarred with stretch marks and I can't help but think, "and she's going to carry my big ass down the stairs!" Total disbelief. Miraculously she hoists me up in the stretcher with virtually no effort and either she's really good at hiding pain or I'm just thinner than I thought I was! We drive to the hospital, Hubby beside me with our bags and I pant from the sheer effort of trying not to scream. To make a long story short about seven hours later the nurse informs me that's it's time to start pushing because my epidural is no longer working and I'm fully dilated. Easy, I've seen the women on the television do it! If the show is a half an hour long and about half of it is the history behind the pregnancy and the other quarter is life after the baby's born, that leaves just one more quarter. Minus time from commercials and I think I may have about a four minute window in which to push out that baby. Four minutes is peanuts and reality is much harsher! The thing that stands out the most in my mind is that when the time came to push there was only a nurse and my Husband in the room. "Where is that Doctor?" The nurse assures me that the Doctor will be there soon. So I start pushing (with constant reminders to "push through my bum" - but he's not coming out of there, so why should I be pushing down there?) and about an hour or so into it the nurse tells me that I'm doing WONDERFULLY and I should have this baby out any minute! YEAH! I push harder, the harder I push the faster the pain will subside they tell me. A half an hour later still no baby. Nurse Mrs. Positive Outlook looks a bit unsure and worried. "Hmmm, I think maybe I'll just prep you for a c-section in case". That wasn't in the plan. After she's done making me feel like even less of a human being she leaves the room and encourages Hubby to continue helping me push! The only thing I want to do is tell the baby to stay right where he is, there will be no exiting of a baby without a Doctor around, never mind a nurse! Finally the Doctor shows up and I resist the urge to ask her where she's been. Out come the big guns. Within fifteen minutes, a whole lot of screams begging her to cut me open and remove "this" baby and her telling me that it's simply too late for that and the only one who's getting this baby out is me, she manages to pull a red, wailing boy out! I will spare you the details of the after effects of the birthing process but let me tell you something, it was nothing like the movies or television or even those documentaries they show you in birthing class! My new tiny tot is actually a whopping ten and a half pounds but it's like it doesn't even matter! He's gorgeous. He's huge and cuddly and new and wonderful. I kiss his head, his cheeks, his eyes and his lips. He's mine. Oh and that man sitting beside me who hasn't gained a pound, felt a contraction or pushed a day in his life, he's his too!

Bulldozer grows and fills us with excitement and joy.

Bulldozer hits his first birthday and we celebrate him being in our lives for a whole year.

... We smile slyly to ourselves and decide to keep secret what our hearts want to tell the world! Baby number two is just a bun in the oven!

Not even nineteen months later I'm back in the same position. I'm blown up from pregnancy, uncomfortable and starting to feel like my time is never going to come. One morning (a few days before my due date) I go with my Mother In Law to get my H1N1 vaccine and we joke about the possibility of me popping that day. She offers to stay in the city so if I need her, she'll be right there. I'm exhausted and all I want to do is sleep. I politely decline and think, if it hasn't happened already it's not going to happen today. After all Son number one was born conveniently in the wee hours of the morning (before my husband had a chance to go off to work) so why would baby number two come during the middle of the week, during the middle of the day when my Husband is probably some halfway across the Island doing a delivery? I get home, send Bulldozer for a nap and crawl into bed for a much needed nap. Instantly I fall asleep. About an hour later I wake up because I feel like I have to pee so I roll over to heft my big tummy out of bed and whoops! I feel this trickle of liquid trail down my leg. Nobody is around and yet I feel totally mortified. I must have peed myself I think! I get out of bed and all of a sudden I'm standing in a puddle of ... ??? It can't be pee! It's impossible. I heard something about this... Maybe, just maybe I think I've just popped and a wee little one is on its way! I call my Husband at work and I simply tell him that it's go time! "Huh? For real? Are you kidding?" Reemergence of homicidal thoughts loom in my head but I tell him, "of course it's for real, why would I be joking?" He makes some sort of squeak and I can visualize him twitching. In the time that it takes my Husband to meet my step-father and come and pick me up I casually walk around the house, do the last of the dishes, tidy up and make sure the car seat for Bulldozer and the bags for the hospital are waiting by the front door. Bulldozer wakes up and I get him dressed to go and very graciously wipe up the puddle of amniotic fluid on the bedroom floor. Hubby bursts in the house (even my normally very calm step-father looks frazzled) and gives me heck for "working when I should be resting"! I assure him I'm absolutely fine and am not actually feeling any pain yet. At the same time I'm actually assuring myself because this feels like a whole different ballgame. No ambulances. No crazy contractions. No stretchers. No chaos. Just a simple understanding that our second son is on his way. The labouring portion of this pregnancy was actually pretty non eventful (except for the epidural that only froze one side of my body!), up until it finally came time to push. The epidural had started to wear off again and the nurse had just checked me not even ten minutes before and I wasn't nearly dilated enough. I insisted that something was different and she kept asking me if I felt pressure in my bum. How should I know? I opted for an epidural, wasn't the whole point to not feel the pain/pressure? The nurse seems a bit concerned (I'm getting a little leery of the looks I keep receiving from various nurses during my two birthing experiences!) and pushes a button when all of sudden (just like in the movies), more nurses and a Doctor show up. The Doctor tells me that's it's time to start pushing, the baby is right there and he'll be out in just a few moments. I resist the urge to tell her that's what the last nurse said! Instead I focus all my energy into pushing. PPPPPPPPUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH. Okay breathe, okay never mind, push! One-two-three-four-five and there he was!

So some time after the traumatic events of birth experience number one I decide that we should think about having baby number two. My friends look at me in utter amazement (or maybe it's disgust!) asking me if I've forgotten how much it hurt. Hmmm, do I? I must have. Or maybe it just wasn't that bad. Maybe it didn't hurt nearly as much as I had originally remembered it to. Then the wee little one's labour approached and when the contractions finally started it was like a slap in the face! This really did hurt. I didn't quite remember what it had felt like to have a contraction, didn't the baby classes describe contractions as "really painful period cramps"? Another person/people that should be put down. Somehow the second birth hurt like someone was slowly torturing me and I had conveniently forgotten. Now fives months after the birth of my second son I can't help but wonder if maybe the third time won't be as painful... or was it really that bad to start? :)

Nothing To Do With Nothing

Here's my thought of the day:

If the lining of the pockets on your jean shorts are longer than the actual shorts themselves; your shorts are too short!

Ze Super Zeros

It's a bird! It's a plane! No, it's Ze Super Zeroes! Zipo and Zebu are their names respectively. Zipo stands a whopping 24 cm high, he can swim super fast but he doesn't like getting wet! Zebu is also 24 cm high, he's "zuper" (ha, ha get it?) good at hiding but he always gets lost!

If they bear any resemblance to a certain someone's children, it's done on purpose. From now on these mascots represent my children!

The Definition of a Mac Mommy?!?

Bulldozer is often accused of being a little bit of a flirt! His baby curls (which we've now hacked off into a homemade faux-hawk!) and those blue, blue eyes get him into a lot of trouble. I suppose all parents think their kids are absolutely the cutest beings on earth but I'm telling you he's got an unusual knack with the ladies. Let me share a few stories from the past two years:

My husband's best friend was getting married in Cuba. Our big guy was a year old (the wee little one wasn't born yet) so all three of us boarded an aircraft at Dorval and traveled for about three and a half hours to reach heat central. We had a great time! One night we're coming back to our hotel room and we run into a string of girls going to the disco.. He looks up at them, smiles, throws his hat on the floor right in front of their feet and makes a clicking noise with his tongue! Looks of utter amazement come across the girl's faces and they make some comment about how he's flirting! Hubby and I still laugh about it!

Another time my Dad takes him to the park to play. A blond haired woman is sitting on a bench enjoying her lunch hour. Bulldozer spots her, toddles over and climbs right up onto her lap! So much for teaching your kids about strangers, huh?

I can't even tell you how many times I've seen this kid "mac" on women, he tends to favour the twenty-somethings. However yesterday we went to the mall to pick up some groceries and he meets a little girl in her stroller. I smile at the girl because I think she's cute with her hat tied under her chin and that toothy grin she had. She totally disregards my smile, looks across at our son, smiles cutely and blows him a kiss! He doesn't see her outward display of affection so I tell him to look at the little girl. Again she smiles and blows him a huge kiss. I realize that our child isn't the only kid on the block that's just trying to find his soul mate, this teeny tiny girl was just as much of a "Mac Mommy" as ours was a "Mac Daddy"!

Now There's a Point When...

So what are these supposed signs of being ready to potty train? Being able to tell that they're wet ... check! Being able to use the lingo to say that they've just had a bowel movement ... check! (Please refer to "No PeePee" post.) Oh yes, yesterday we've added "Poo poo" to his vocabulary too! Being able to take off one's nappy, check! Able to undress, check! Now I have a whole new category to add to that classic list of signs, here it goes:

BEING ABLE TO CHANGE YOUR OWN DIAPER!

Seriously. I walk into the nursery the other day and my Husband is on diaper duty. I'm watching him change Bulldozer's diaper when my son says "I DO!" This is his coin term, he says it on a VERY regular basis! I watch in amazement as my son changes his own diaper! He removes the Velcro closures, throws the diaper to the side, wipes his own penis, lifts his bum up to receive the clean diaper and then helps to close the new Velcro tabs! Too much really. I would consider this to be yet another sign that potty training should be in the making!

First Food

Behold everyone! My wee little one had his first spoonfuls of pablum today and he's growing up too fast and then before I know it he will be sitting up and then crawling and then walking and then talking and then running and then going to kindergarten and then graduating from elementary school and then high school and then cegep/university and then getting married and then having kids...

WHOA!

I look down at him sleeping in his chair. He has his tiny thumb in his mouth and he's snoring rhythmically. He's wearing a Winnie the Pooh sleeper and smells like milk. He's still just a baby.

A Night of Fluff

More than anything I had a craving to watch a chick flick last night. You may confirm with my husband but I am not really a huge chick flick sort of girl... yes, I do like to cry in movies but I tend to be more attracted to the drama genre. Watching a whole movie is definitely a treat, as many Moms know, and I was looking forward to cuddling up to the Hubby to see ... get this, "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants"! Scott was not particularly crazy about my choice of movies (thank you kids' section of our local library for lending it to me for free!) but I convinced him by arguing that I didn't ask him to watch chick flicks with me very often. Out came the "but we never watch any of my first pick movies!" ... TRUE. Then came my rebuttal, "but I'm not asking for you to watch a whole bunch of chick flicks (well except this one, minor detail my dear), I compromise by watching comedies and dramas!" Okay so what other main categories are there in movies anyways? Chick flicks that neither of us really want to watch. Action flicks that the Hubby likes and I don't particularly care for... and then drama/comedies that we usually settle on! I'm starting to realize that the balance is a little uneven in the whole regime of movie picking. Ssshhh.

So we watched Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and surprise of all surprises, guess who liked it? Uh huh, you got it! A certain somebody was sitting there with tears in his eyes. His argument? "But the girl dies!" (Sorry for those of you who haven't seen the movie!) But Hubby, you cried at multiple parts and not just the very heart wrenching scene where the girl dies. "Well the whole part of the story that is set in Greece makes the movie a lot better." Sure. So you've cried in multiple parts of the movie and the scenes from Greece are interesting (and I saw you all to interested in the girl who plays soccer!!!) but the movie wasn't all that great?!? Stick to your story my dear and I'll stick to mine...

LAST NIGHT I SAW A MOVIE WITH A CERTAIN SPECIAL SOMEONE AND WE BOTH REALLY LIKED IT!

So we ended our night with a chat about life, yes we do still have stuff to talk about despite being home together for the last month and a half! It reminded me why I married the man in the first place!!! He's my best friend and I can talk to him about anything! Whether I'm pissed and need to vent or we're celebrating the extra $50 we made ($50 goes a long way in this household!), oh husband of mine is always there. We've weathered some pretty hard times together. From financial problems to medical issues, I've never known someone so committed. Hubby if you're reading this, I just wanted to tell you that I really appreciate you. Okay so barf people! Looking forward to celebrating our third wedding anniversary together soon, it's been a good three years.

Then it was off to bed. Staying up till one in the morning is rare for me and so very difficult. Good night.

Learning to walk

Learning to walk
Originally uploaded by SnortyBurrito

Reminiscing about our big boy growing up. Where has time gone?

No PeePee!

So this whole process started about five months ago, around the time our wee little one was born. I had taken off BullDozer's nappy to change it and then got distracted by something in the kitchen... in streaks Mr. Bare Bum gesturing towards the bathroom wildly and repeating "uh uh uh". I sleepily ask him "Do you want to go potty?" and he responds "YES!" Shocked I picked him up and ran, barely making it in time to hear the little tinkle hit the pot. I believe one second longer and I would have worn his prize! So that was the beginning of the potty training experience. I laughed to myself thinking "And they say potty training is hard"... Somewhere in my twisted mind I actually believed that he would potty train himself and all the hard work would be non-existent!

Fast forward five months...

"Do you want to go potty", I ask very nicely. He looks defiantly at me and responds, "NO!". I use an absolutely horrible parenting technique: "I'll give you a sticker!" ... "NO!", "A treat?" ... "YES!" "So you'll go potty if Mommy gives you a treat?" (I must admit I felt quite smug!) Then the honest answer ... "NO!"

Now he's learned to talk a little more. When I ask him if he'd like to do his pee pee on the potty he looks at me with those big crystal blue eyes and tells me with much conviction I must add, "No PeePee!" Since the first time we've done a total of four pees on that dreaded contraption and apparently even though it sings to reward him for his effort, it's not all that effective!

... Could I be the only Mom that has nightmares about their six year old going to school in diapers?

Amusing Anecdotes

Sometimes I am so glad that all the "funny" things happen to my husband and not me! For instance, shortly after my Hubby started his paternity leave I thought I was overdue for a day of shopping. I left him with both boys and he decided he would take them out for lunch. I'm sorting through racks of clothing when he texts me that he "peed all over his leg"!!! I burst out laughing in the middle of the store, much to the amusement of the people around me! So naturally I call him back to ask him what happened (I mean besides peeing all over himself) and this is what he tells me: He has wee little one in the stroller beside him at the urinal... Bulldozer is standing next to him when all of a sudden he bumps him. Hubby then proceeds to sprinkle (actually I mean more like shower) all the way down his leg! See what happens when I leave him alone for a few minutes!

Then today I get back from the Doctor and we're sitting on the couch catching up when totally out of nowhere Bulldozer decides he should bite Hubby's, ummmm, penis! He never bites! What prompted the kid to take a bite out of Daddy, I still don't understand. Of course I obligingly told him "we don't bite!" but inside I was falling apart with laughter.

I Ache For You

I cry before he ever sheds a single tear. My heart aches at the mere thought of his breaking. I want to wrap my arms around his little body; ward off the possibility of hurt or disappointment penetrating this innocent child. Instinct tells me to fight for his survival. The only problem is I'm still that little girl. Still vulnerable and aching for the person that was never there. When I cry tears of sadness for my little boy, I selfishly hurt for myself. My heart breaks because it is happening all over again. My battle and his are one in the same.

Written on November 2nd, 2009.