dejavu

My son is five. Lately he has been waking up right on the dot of 7, getting dressed and then going downstairs to watch cartoons until the rest of us wake up. This morning I woke up at 7:45 and he was still asleep. At firsts I was happy for him because he has been so tired the last few days but as I lay there I started to worry. Should I go and check on him? What if he died in his sleep? Is he ok? Could he be sick? And then I caught myself and realized those were the same thoughts/fears I had when he was a newborn. Will they ever go away?

On a lighter note, here is a joke from G:

Knock, knock!
Who’s there?
Coconut.
Coconut who?
Coconut I’m gonna put you in it and then eat you in a pie (ha, ha, ha I so funny! Get it Mommy?)!

Knock, knock!
Who’s there?
Banatido.
Banatido who?
Banatido who?
….she is now absorbed in watching Pinky Dinky Doo and can’t renember!

this one’s for Phil

For the love! Does it ever end? Ever? As if we don’t have enough chaos in our lives with the move, the baby, the new job, the blah, blah, blah. Now G has turned into SUPERFREAK! She has taken me to the edge of my sanity and is doing her very best to kick me over it into the abyss of super-crazy-psycho-Mom.

The girl turned 3 in April so there is the expected three year old behaviour issues. You know, independence, defiance that sort of thing. This cute little blonde haired beauty of ours has gone all Emmeril on us and “kicked it up a notch”! Everything, and I do mean EVERYTHING is a fight these days. From what cereal she wants for breakfast (and you can bet I’ll get it wrong) to what panties she will wear (Dora, no hello kitty, no orange Dora) to the angle her barrettes are placed in her hair. It is exhausting trying to get though a day without losing my cool. Casual, fun days are a thing of the past around here. I feel so sorry for N having to put up with all of this.

Every morning G has the craziest meltdown when T goes to work. We have tried to develop a routine for them but it’s not helping. Once he makes for the door (after having given her about 30 hugs, assurances of his love and promises to return), G starts to get a desperate tone in her voice. She starts yelling, “I love you Daddy, I love you DaddyI love you DaddyI love you DaddyI love you Daddy!” over and over. She flings herself at him and begs for another huggie, one more kiss, a high fives, please don’t go, don’t leave me with Mommy, no Daddy no, please another huggie DADDY! If I don’t catch her in time she will run out the door and throw herself at his car yelling, “I love you Daddy. Have a good day at works. Don’t go. I love you!”. It’s a fairly pathetic and desperate scene. Especially since she replays it morning after morning. On really good days she takes off after him when he drives away and runs as fast as she can after his car. I love being the neighbourhood spectical those mornings. I can just imagine what our neighbours must think as they watch me running braless in illfitting pj’s at 7 months gestation up the street after my shrieking child. The only thing better than me running like a manic up the street is the struggle that insues as I try to drag G back to the house. I’m not supposed to lift anything heavy (HA!) so it’s really fun trying to get her home and into the house. Imagine the smile that is nailed to my face!

Last night she woke up around 4:30 and decided that she wanted to play! I went into her room to put her back to bed and she had a temper tantrum! How am I supposed to be all patient and modern Mommy when my daughter is snapping because I won’t play with her in the middle of the freaking night? She won’t lie down. She won’t put her covers on. Which wouldn’t be an issue if she would wear warmer pj’s and socks to bed. But NO! If we put her in something that will actually keep her warm and asleep all night she waits until we go downstairs and changes into something designed for hot August nights.

I am trying to be patient. I am doing my VERY BEST to be consistant and loving but firm. I’ve cut her slack because I know her little world is upside down and she doesn’t understand why everything keeps disapearing into boxes. But there is a limit. I don’t know what else I can do. We’ve hugged, given time outs, ignored, yelled, taken favourite items away, shut her in her room, given her more one-on-one time, stood on our heads and danced (and trust me, that is not a sight anyone wants to see right now!)… Dudes, nothing is working. I’m thinking of sending her to the Dr. Phil house for a week or two!

Tell me it’s a phase. Tell me it will pass and that she won’t still be like this once the baby is born. Tell me anything except that it will always be like this cause I suck at parenting.

Overheard

One of my favourite thing about the ages my kids are at (5/3) is listening to their conversations. They are so funny! Here’s one from tonight while they were eating cookies in the kitchen:
N: Know what, G?
G: What?
N: I really love you. Like lots. I’m serious.
G: I loves you too, N.
N: But I thing I probably love you more.
G: Nooooooooooooo (stuffing a cookie into her mouth).
N: I love you like this much (stretches his arms out to his sides).
G: Yeah, but I’m dis many (holds up three fingers).
N: (getting a bit fed up) well I love you up to outer space AND back.
G: Ok, you winned dat one.
N: Yeah, it was a love race and I won.

Little reality check

A lot of people have been asking me lately how I am (we are) handling all the chaos in our lives right now. To be honest, I feel like we’ve gotten through the last few months of upheval and change without a lot of stress. We are confident that we have chosen the right path and have a great deal of peace about all the change. T’s new job has been nothing but a blessing. He is so relaxed and PRESENT in our lives now. Packing has been going really well and all of the details for our move have been coming together really well. Even small things have fallen into place. For example, our alarm contract just ran out so we don’t have to pay a penalty or worry about transfering it. Our cell phone contracts are also up so we can switch to a much less annoying company without any hassle. It’s all just working, ya know. The biggest stress has been the complications with my pregnancy (minor placental hemorrage). There has been a lot of prayer for this baby and my body. The bleeding has stopped, the baby is doing just fine and I’m feeling a million times better. We are so thankful. God continues to be faithful.

The other day a friend of mine wrote to tell me about a tragedy that struck the lives of close friends. Earlier this month their buddy Jake hadn’t been feeling well and went to the doctor. On May 4th he was diagnosed with acute leukemia. His wife who was pregnant with their second child ended up going into labour 5 weeks early and gave birth to a little girl on the morning of May 8th. Later that day, Jake suffered a stroked and died. I was speachless when my friend shared this devastating loss with me. I can not imagine the suffering and pain that Jake’s precious wife is experiencing. How do you cope with your husband being diagnosed with cancer? And then give birth to a premature baby? And then lose the father of your children the same day? My brain can not wrap itself around that series of losses. My heart is broken for that family. For the wife who is grieving her best friend. For the little girls who won’t know their Daddy. It is uncomprehensible.

When I begin to feel overwelmed with the stresses we are dealing with right now I remind myself of Jake and his family. Lining up delivery of new appliances, packing up our house and settling into a new one seem like pretty managable tasks in light of the suffering other people are experiencing. I have my husband, my children and a healthy baby on the way. We are moving to family who love and support us. Our new home is everything we wanted and much more. I am blessed.

What’s with all the hate?

So there has been a lot of bitterness and snarky commenting lately on some of the blogs I read. A few bloggers have done book reviews on “The Dangerous Book for Boys”. Seems that a fun little book for boys has got a whole lotta panties all bunched up in knots. I just don’t get it. What’s the big deal about saying that boys and girls are different? Why is it bad to produce/publish/want something that is gender specific?

Don’t get me wrong. I believe in egality and get all fired up when women are pushed down. I just don’t have a problem saying that males and females are different because in my opinion they are. When I was pregnant with N, I read several articles about gender identification and the ways that society and parents impose stereotypical gender roles on children from day one. We make sure not to tell our son, for example that “boys don’t cry” or teach our daughter that she is weak and helpless. We wrestle equally with them. We also cuddle equally. And I get equally annoyed when either of them cries ad nauseum! Given all that, I still see major differences in my children. Sure, part of it is their personalities but a lot of it is that boys and girls are different.

When I was pregant with G we bought N a doll so he could practice being gentle to a baby. He was nice to his doll and even attempted to breast feed it when I was nursing G but I never saw the same motherly instincts from him that G showed at the same age to her doll. N has never bothered to wrap his doll so it would be warm. He has never changed the doll’s diaper or rocked it to sleep but G has done all of those things. For quite a while she made beds for her dolls, toys (cars included) every night and covered them up. She has never watched me care for a baby but she seems to “know” what to do whereas N has seen me with a newborn and still doesn’t have the same instinct. I think it comes from inside of them.

I remember the first time my son played “stroller” outside. He was playing with 2 little girls from our street. They were all between 3 and 4 at the time. They each had a kid sized stroller with a doll strapped in. I watched as the two girls pushed their strollers up and down the sidewalk. N joined them for a while and then he yelled, “this is boring! Let’s have races.” and began to run as fast as he could with his stoller. “It’s a stroller durby!”. The girls started shrieking and crying because he was going to hurt his baby. “That’s not how you do it,” one of them yelled. I laughed to myself as I watched this little scene playout in front of me. How different they truly are.

From what I’ve seen in my kids, boys and girls are different from birth. I don’t think the differences are as marked as they were made out to be say, 50 yeras ago but inanate differences persist none the less. Personally, I celebrate that fact. I don’t understand all the hate that spews when someone dares to do something gender specific. I guess it is just one more thing that fans the flames of the ever diversive “Mommy wars”. I certainly hope that those same people don’t buy Barbies for their girls or Tonka’s for their boys cause their kids sure are going to be messed up if they do!

I’ll be missing you

Last night T and I were talking about the things we are going to miss about living here. Here are some of mine*:

1. A sense of familiarity. We know and love our neighbours. We know our kids are safe in their houses and with their children. When we’ve been gone for the weekend, they notice and welcome us home. I’m going to miss impromptu chats on the front lawn while we watch the kids running in the sprinkler. I guess it’s a sense of home and belonging that I’m going to miss.

2. Our church. We love the worship, preaching, the kids program, our home group. It will be hard to replace. Again, more than anything we will miss the community aspect and having a sense of being welcome and belonging.

3. Our favourite camping and picnic spots. I’m going to miss being 20 minutes from the mountains. We have spent many enjoyable afternoons exploring various little spots within an hours drive of our home. We also got into camping last summer. I’m sad we won’t get to go back to that amazing little camp ground in the hoodoos near the border. There were so many camp grounds we wanted to explore this summer.

4. The zoo. We live 20 minutes from the zoo and have annual passes. The kids and I have spent countless days checking out our favourite animals and picnicing in the Zoo’s garden. I loved watching my kids learn about habitats, caring for living things, seeing unusual creatures. And yes, we can go to the zoo at our new home but it’s over an hours drive away and VG expensive.

5. Knowing where to find our favourite things. I know where to get the best brie, who has the widest selection of Indian herbs, which vendors we like best at the market, when and where the best used toy and clothing sales are and which Gap has the best sales rack. I have certain grocery stores I go to for certain items. I know the layout of the stores. I don’t even know where the grocery stores are in our new city.

* I didn’t include friends cause that’s pretty much a given.

Guess

Know what is worse than having a hacking, persistant, cough-up-your-lungs type cough that only shows up around 7ish and stays just long enough to wreck the whole night’s sleep?

Having that cough when you are pregnant and can’t take anything to help.

Know what’s worse than that?

Having that cough, while pregnant with a useless, lilly-livered bladder.

This is getting serious

I’ve just spent the last couple of hours with my mother-in-law packing boxes. My life is slowly being wrapped in paper or bubble wrap and carefully layered into boxes with little white labels in the upper right corner. While I feel really relieved that packing is going well, there is a growing feeling of dread inside of me. There have been so many times in the last few days that my stomach has lurched and I’ve found myself choking on my heart. Like yesterday when my father-in-law and I were picking up boxes from the moving company and I saw the truck (or at least one like it) that will move us to our new home. You know, the house we are really excited about that I’m not sure I want to move to anymore? In the city I know almost nothing about except that it has a really awesome farmer’s market. In a province with seriously questionable humidity levels. I’m having a hard time remembering why we made this crazy decision. Ah, yes! We will live close to the family I have been missing so dreadfully the last few years.

I know that moving “home” will fill some of the gaping holes in my heart. I just worry about the new holes that will be ripped inside of me when I get on that airplane for the last time. Leaving this home will be so sad. It is our first home and we have put so much of ourselves into it. So much heart work (I know that is a typo but it worked so I’ll leave it). So many tears. So much laughter and love. This is the only home our children have known. It is hard to rip out the roots that we fought to establish. How do you hug a dear friend and then walk away knowing you might not see them again? Knowing that some of those people who are so important to us now will one day be a fond memory? And once we go, how do we start all over again? Who will be my Mel? My Kiristy? My neighbour who feeds my kids popsicles and yells at them when they run on the road?

In the midst of all this, I am trying to hold on to what is good and store it in my heart. Today I’ve captured the scent of my neighbours flowering tree blowing it’s heavy perfume in the front window. I’m treasuring the sound of my children’s belly laugh as Grandpa tickles them. I ate what might be my last vanilla croissant from that brillant Belgian patisserie on the edge of downtown. And I took a mental picture of my little girl smiling at me as she walks down the stairs with her wind blown hair, one sock and a bathing suit. Those are sweet memories that I am thankful for today.

before the crest of the hill

When I was a kid I lived near a large theme park. My family didn’t tend to go to those kind of places (I so can’t picture my Dad kickin’ it with the cartoons and eating the crappy park food) so I had to wait until I was old enough to go with my friends. I think I was about 15 when I went for the first time. I was pumped for my first rollercoaster so as soon as we were through the gates we ran straight to the biggest one. Super smart considering I’m not much of a risk taker, I get car sick in the front seat and I have terrible vertigo! But determined I was! All was good until we were strapped in and slowly ascending towards the crest of the first hill. I could hear the creaking of the chains that pulled us painfully slowly towards what I was sure would be my final demise. I was so scared that I was sweating, my teeth were chattering and I was praying out loud. What exactly was I thinking? I think the terror of not knowing what would happen once we topped that hill was the worst thing. Anticipating something good but not being sure it would deliver.

That’s pretty much what is going on in our lives lately. We are moving across the country 4 weeks today, expecting our third (THIRD) child in 14 weeks and I am scared. Every day that ticks by, every box that gets packed, every goodbye I have to say is like those creaking chains dragging me towards the crest of an unknown hill. We have been anticipating the ride but in these last moments I find myself sweating, teeth chatter, praying out loud that all will be well.

I am reminded of Jeremiah where God promises, “I’ll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for”. So I’m clinging to that as I did the safety bars.

Questions

1. Why do my children always act their worst on “special” days, like say, ummmm Mother’s Day?
2. How can I feel so excited about moving and so dreadfully sad all at the same time?
3. Who put all that crap in my basement that I have to sort through? Surely it couldn’t have been me.
4. When will this baby inside of me feel real? Oh, and what the heck am I going to do with a third child?
5. Why do my kids have their off moments and killer meltdowns in front of the preschool parents who already think I’m a bit off since we aren’t sending our kids to private school? Why can’t they wait 12 more seconds until we are in the van? Or maybe not at all?
6. Will I get along with my family and see them as much as I hope to after we move.
7. How big am I actually going to get this time around? Will I float better in the lake this summer?

Just a few of the burning questions banging around in my head lately.