The New Chapter of Play Dates

Once upon a time I felt worried and stressed, though excited, about play dates. I am one for routines and schedules and tidy, neat orderly days. So I worried when play dates occurred over nap-times or feeding times (seems I have sensitive babes who not only need their naps, don't really eat well around busy-ness - they need quiet calm--or something like that!).

But I came to need and love these visits and a great friendship or two really evolved out of my last mat leave mommy dates...

And so, of course, I am on mat leave number two and am trying to relive those wonderful play-date memories with current play-dates.

Sounds awesome, rejuvenating and wonderful, non?

Well, it is - kind of.

Only...now there are four children, not two...and two of them are two...terribly two...and the other two are nursing and/or fussy, and very often, needing something...

So these visits, while a necessary break from parenting and babbling to babes all day long, become a true test of focus and patience.

Picture it: both moms nursing, trying to simultaneously carry on a linear, focused conversation, while their two year olds fight over a toy. Then one child bashes the other over the head with that very important toy. So one mom, boob and babe in hand, has to get up and discipline, while still continuing the very interesting conversation - and still feed the child.

Sounds amazingly impossible non?

Now picture this routine looped, again and again. Because if there is one thing two year old children are good at, it's testing their parents patience and continuously needing to be disciplined...

Like when we were watching the little ones downstairs and they somehow made their way upstairs, and we, still feeding our babes, make our way up there in what we think is ample time, and find our two year olds both singing merrily as they artistically colour my leather couches with the chalk they absconded from the downstairs chalkboard center...

(all I can say is thank God jb was not around!)...

And so, while I do love these visits and need them, they may truly be more trying than nursing in public. And since I've already established how uncomfortable and awkward that is, I am sure you now understand how chaotic it is to try and have a play date with four babes two and under....

Not even sure we got one conversation completed.

Oh and add to the mix the adults' combined lack of sleep and we really have what could be a frenetic comedy act that might be like watching a Woody Allen movie (that is to say, too much chatter that goes nowhere...)...

But I still love these dates... And I still need these disjointed adult conversations...

Funny how our lives and expectations change: I once was able to sit for hours in coffee shops or pubs and talk about the most philosophical of topics and I could focus. I mean these conversations really went somewhere.

Sadly, no longer.

Oh well!

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Hooter Hider Head-aches...

So, God has graciously blessed me with being a Klutz of the utmost extremes (I can hear some of you arguing, but I urge you to just discretely watch me for a day - I'm my own 'America's funniest home video' I promise you). Everything I do is awkward: there's no grace to me. My mom's always said that one can dress me up, but one cannot take me out...It's true. This comment does not hurt me in the least as it is very very apt.

Not only has God blessed me with being a klutzo - he's also blessed me with my voluptuous mammary glands. Oh yes, I would say that I. am. boobalicious (ew). In fact, that last statement may even be an understatement.

Add to the equation the fact that I am nursing and we have, my friends, a bit of a hyperbole! My boobs are or could be the punchline of many a joke.

So you ask yourself, where is she going with this rant!??? Well, actually, you've read the title, so you already know...

Nevermind.

I have many a friend and colleague who tell me how easy it is to nurse in public. Just discretely pull down the undershirt, and open the nursing bra and pop that baby on. boom. done.

okay.

That only works for the modestly developed woman.

For me, there's no discrete anything. The moment I move to try and pull down my undershirt, it's like this watermelon emerges all obnoxious and in your face.

There's simply no discrete.

None.

And 'pop on'.  To begin with, one must have small boobies for popping a babe on, because there's the holding up the big boob, the trying to get the babe to latch somewhat properly onto the big boob, and then holding up the boob and the babe without losing either.

It's like chewing bubble gum, while walking, patting one's belly and rubbing one's hair (or vise-versa).

Not so easy.

Especially for myself - elle Klutzo.

So my wonderful friend bought me the hooter hider!

And what a perfect name. Cuz, my friends, I have hooters.

This invention is supposed to be perfect for even the most awkward of ladies...

But the inventors had not yet met me.

Its perks: it has a wire top so I can see babe at all times, ensuring I can get him latched and comfortable. It is apron style, so it's supposed to be comfortable. It's also longer than many nursing capes, good for melonicious folks like myself...

However, it is still awkward for me.

How does one get the babe under the apron without flashing my melon or bra or baby fat (mine, not d's) --

And then the whole burping thing.

To try and get the babe out from under the 'aprony' hooter hider, burped and back under without being arrested for indecent exposure!!???

Oh I could go on.

Some can do all of the above with talented grace.

I cannot.

And so, my friends, I say that I will continue to practice hiding my hooters, but be warned, I may flash my obnoxious melons on more than one occasion...

And for one who is as modest and embarrassed of my 'assets', I hope you understand that I apologize profusely and that I am in over my head in the whole comfort zone department...

But I do believe in try try again.

I'll keep you posted about how I progress or not...

P.S. Just to affirm my awkward nature: I pulled my breast bone trying to nurse yesterday. I ask you, solemnly, WHO DOES THAT??? I never knew there were physical risks involved with nursing.

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Inundated!!!!

I've never been one to obsess about the Royal Family (snobby british accent added for emphasis) - (I've even seen the Royal family once, from afar, at Westminster Abby, leaving a mass; I was not all that excited--though the buzz of all the people around me was fun--... - sidebar - even from afar, Charles's ears were very prominent - hilarious!); however, being a 'stay-at-home-mom' these days and nursing for nearly eight hours a day, has made me an avid television watcher - which in turn - has forced me to watch (b/c on t.v., my friends, there is no escaping it) everything Royal Wedding.

I thought that I wasn't really all that influenced or affected by all the information regarding Will and Kate's April 29th nuptials, but apparently I have been. Two nights ago I dreamed that I got a special 'back stage pass' to the ceremony. And not only did I manage that coup, I also got to meet Kate, and see her dress, before the ceremony. And I was ecstatic...

Again, I reiterate, I didn't even think I was excited about this whole historical event...

But I now know many things about this royal wedding: like that Will will not be wearing a ring; that four of his ex-flames will be there; that kate will have at least two of the same dress available, 'just in case', that the Brits are taking full advantage of this marriage by exploiting it - marking the event by creating a variety of memorabilia to sell, ensuring that they, too, get a piece of the royalties, if you will...

Ah exploitation.

Voyeurism.

Celebrity.

Royalty.

Living vicariously.

Why are we all so obsessed?

Some say this merger is a symbol of hope for Britain, if not the world - after Diana's death and all - Kate is here to step into the new role of humility and grace...


hm.

I am not sure I fully understand...But the message and the excitement of this event has apparently, on a subconscious, subliminal level at least, saturated even me and my dreams...

Maybe it's all now a part of our collective unconscious...

Or maybe I should just stop watching television and focus on things much more relevant to my life:

Politics anyone?

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3-2!!!

Tomorrow I turn the same age my mom was when she adopted all four of us children. Tomorrow I am turning the age I have always used as my 'old age' barometer. She hd grey hair (I pulled out two yesterday from my own head, my friends); she had some wrinkles; (My forehead is just itching to form some pretty deep lines - they're there, just waiting to pounce, I can feel it!)

And yet, I am very pleased.

I never thought I'd have two kids by this age.

Wasn't even sure I would ever marry.

Lord knows I had no idea for the longest time what I'd do with myself career-wise - and yet, here I am, in the only career that can feed my ADHD frenetic energy-ed self and my moral (um. er. bossy) nature...

Yup.

If birthdays are moments of reflection, this year, I am happy to reflect on my life. I am pleased and proud. And I have now, for the first time ever, got myself a very amazing group of friends and a wonderful support system...I've weeded out the weighty, toxic people and am only surrounded by beauty!

How lucky am I?

Love to all!

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The Terrifically Terrible Twos

To begin with, d.b. was born on March 13th, 2011 at 4:46 pm. And now our family dynamic is changed forever.

I was very concerned about what the introduction of our new little boy would mean for our little princess, e. I mean, she's been the center of my world since she was born and she sure does know it. Her goal in life is seemingly to grab and hold the attention of every and all adults who are within her range at all times (she especially enjoys the unbridled focus of her doting parents)....(she might take a little after me, me thinks)...

So to have another little being honing in on her attention terrain...well. I didn't think that would go over too well.


But, turns out, I was wrong.

The moment d came home (and regardless of his dora chair gift), e was enamored. She kept pointing and saying, baby! baby! It was so precious. Her excitement was genuine and melted my heart. To me, her excitement demonstrated her generous spirit: although she loves the spotlight, she was willing to share.

She often wants to hold her little baby (er, her brother), and, if he's crying, she becomes frantic and starts saying 'oh no, oh no', and tries to get myself or jb as quickly as possible to go and help the little one.

While this family transition has been taking place, another milestone also occurred: e turned two. And let me tell you, her development took a sharp leap during this time. It has been a very evident and very drastic time of growth for little e.

One parent said to me that e's in a time of testing her boundaries. I couldn't have said it better myself. Mostly she's testing her body's durability. Everyday for the past two weeks, she has fallen and hit her head while involved in varying degrees of accidents. She has become wild and daring. She stands on edges of chairs to reach things up high. She's decided that she can hop up on chairs to participate in cooking and baby care-taking that occurs up on the counters. She thinks she can climb up and down stairs without using hands or turning around and going down backward. She has become very interested in the knives drawer...

She thinks she can run forward while simultaneously looking backward.

In a word: e has become a careless klutz and she scares the bejeezus out of her parents.

She has even decided that she can run away from me while playing outside. I am fearful that she may one day get hit by a car.

All the while, as she is 'testing these boundaries' e has a very knowing, very coy look on her face. She realizes what she's doing is crazy and she's watching me to see how I react...Oh she's smarter than she thinks I think she is, to be sure...

I feel almost as if she's laughing at me just a little...

Never mind when I am trying to nurse her brother and she's jumping up and down behind me on the couch, arms tightly wrapped around my neck like she's a boa constrictor...laughing all the while, knowing it is almost impossible for me to uncoil her while in such a position....

Yup e is testing her boundaries....and she is surely also testing mine.

And it's amazing to watch, though terrifying to come to terms with. Not only does it break my heart when she realizes that she can get seriously hurt as she tries to test her abilities, it makes me understand more glaringly, that my little baby is now my little toddler, and that my little toddler is very much in a hurry to become my little girl.

Does time ever fly.

I often say this, but more so than ever, I just want to slow time down, really appreciate my children in this moment right now. Because I am so very blessed to have such wonderful, and beautiful babes.

And mostly, I am so proud to have such a vivacious, terrifically challenging, and terribly trying, spirited two year old girl.

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