Things You Might Not Know About Me....Not that you asked.

1. I hate Lady Gaga. Her first album was awesome and creative and really great to workout to. Her recent release sounds plagiarized, her look is obscene and I just wanna get all up in her face and ask her what her target market is, what she's trying to teach this target market and why she's such a try harder poser. She actually makes me passionately angry. She will never be Madonna.

2. I am a very busy person. If I let myself, I will go go go all day and all night. I feel most vital being busy.

3. I love being physical. Even before being busy, I love being physical. If I could dance, or do cardio all day long, I would be in my element - my bliss, if you will.

4. I used to be cheesy. Er. I still am, actually.

5. I was once told that for a smart person I was really stupid, and to this day I believe this person's observation of me to be the most apt. AND I am not being hard on myself!

6. My uncle used to search for blond in my hair.

7. Although I like to be busy and I love to be physical, I am actually at the core, very lazy. If I had the choice, I would never clean, cook, do laundry or any other household duty. And groceries would be delivered....Forget the manual labour!!!

8. I think every store that sells anything should have a drive-thru. Even clothing stores. (With a good return policy!!!)...Much easier after having children.

9. I left e in the car on her own once for five minutes...Don't tell CAS!

10. Although you might think I am outgoing, I am actually very shy. I even have a bit of social anxiety. So if you notice me talking a lot or drinking a lot...you know why!

11. I have made some of the best friends in the world and lost some of the best friends in the world, because although I fancy myself a people pleaser, I have very strong convictions. What a conundrum!

12. I love my family so much it scares me.

13. As JB likes to say, I have baggage!

14. If I could figure out a way to make money off of writing, I would. I believe my need for speed and my anxiety, and my lack of focus and failure to practice this craft are reasons I fear I will never attain this goal.

15. I used to be obsessed with self help books.

16. I like control and order. Always.

17. 16 was likely obvious after reading 15....

18. After going through labour with e (never mind the details), I feel I can accomplish most anything (other than, of course, writing....for money....)!

19. After surviving one babe with Acid Reflux, continuing to thrive happily through my second babe with reflux, and successfully being a working mom, I feel more invincible and actually more confident in myself than I used to.

20. I feel very blessed in my life today....

21. I cannot tell jokes or sayings to save my life. I always mess them up.

22. Writing fulfills me like dancing does.

23. I used to be a good skater and got my first trophy from Kurt Browning....

24. I love to kiss people (I think after having kids, this has become my endearing way of saying I really like someone...)

25. this is way too long. I guess number 25 would be that I might be a bit egocentric. Either that or I've had one too many glasses of wine...you decide!

Tweet

on teaching.

If ever asked what carebear or smurf I'd be, I'd be either Teacher Bear or Bossy Smurf...Or maybe those two adjectives are synonymous!

Anyhow, the moral is, what I think is my talent, is teaching. I love it! I thrive on it.

And now, I am seeing how my need to teach is impacting my daughter...I wonder, actually, if having a teacher parent is really a positive or negative thing? I always thought it would be great for my kids because anyone I knew who had teacher parents were always the most talented and able in school. However, the downfall for having a teacher parent is that everything turns into a lesson.

And I am definitely guilty of being this kind of a parent.

I took e to the Y today, which we both love. When we pass the Y, e always yells, 'Gym! Gym!' It's she and my little oasis where we go and spend a little time just us two. It's awesome. It's needed for both of us. I always miss the old days when it was just she and me when we were inseparable; (though I wouldn't change the present for anything). I just really have to ensure we have our time. We're like two peas, she and I. Goofy and impatient to no end.

Anyway....

So we get into the pool, and as of recently, e has become a bit fearful of the water (thank God, because she used to be fearless and delve in head first when presented with anything!!!) So now she has grown a bit of fear, which makes her more reserved to do things.

Enter mummy teacher. Daddy teacher is more timid when presented with this issue, letting her sit on the sidelines in her comfort zone.

But not mummy teacher.

Mummy teacher sees this as a perfect moment to learn. There's some sort of life philosophy here about teachable moments, I am sure...Regardless, I was all, oh e, I am not gonna let you sit in your comfort zone here...Nope, if I let you sit back with this, then I will end up letting you sit out of other important things because of fear. Oh no, my dear, I am going to help you learn to look fear in the eye, stare it down, and walk head first at it...

ha. so there!

And so, with much encouragement, and a lot of nail marks in both my back and neck, I got e into the water and enjoying herself. She even walked a little on her own, without grabbing me fearfully. (And to be honest, I found her walking on her own to be very brave, because the water was  up to her chin!)...

So I made a consciously unconscious decision today; I will not be okay with my children avoiding things in life because of fear (well, let's be honest, within reason - it's okay if they don't want to jump out of a plane or bungee jump - and it's okay if, after they've tried whatever it is that they're unsure of, they dislike said thing, then hopefully I will have sense enough to back the f off!)

Until then, consider me proud mama, and definite Bossy Smurf (ette)!

Tweet

A Room of My Own...With Nice Wallpaper!

I am back people. Back from the fog that occurs in the first few months postpartum.

I am almost me again.

I am less the energy sucked mommy whose every spare moment was taken up with someone's needs.

That is, someone's needs other than mine.

I am not bitter.

I was getting there, though, I can tell you that.

I love being a mom and a wife. However, I don't love that I seem to have disappeared a little after having children. While no one else might see the change, I feel it daily. I am not myself.

I have decided, consciously, though, in the past few days, that I am no longer okay with forgetting about me.

I have decided to find a room of my own; one that no one can enter, other than myself, ever. A space that is all mine, free from expectation, need, or anything else that might ask anything of me!

In the past few days I have been agitated. I have even been angry. With the baby crying or needing to be rocked, with my hubby saying he's going for another five hour golf game, or out somewhere fun that I cannot go; I am even through with attending to little miss e who has taken to calling my name over and over if I do not give her my 100 percent! 

Every new desire of someone else's has begun to pulsate piercingly in my ear, and something in me has started to deteriorate...

I am on the brink of losing my cool, people.

And so I have decided to take a stand.

Yup I have.

I considered the wise words of Dr. Phil, I teach people how to treat me. And moreover, I teach my daughter how a woman, mother and wife should behave and be treated.

And I'll be damned if my needs, hobbies and desires will always take the back seat to everyone else's. Forget it. I am no one's martyr!!!

And so, last evening, full of resolve, I put my two children to bed, and I went to my room, changed into my LuLu's, and interrupted my hubby's car washing activity and I told him that I. Was. Going. To. The. Gym.

And when he asked if I could not go later, I said, No. I cannot.

And I hopped in my car and went.

And then today, I did the same thing. This time leaving BOTH CHILDREN (gasp, I know!). And I went for a full half hour of me time. Where no one could reach me, ask of me, or suck away any more of me and my energy.

(I'll be honest, I did feel badly, if not guilty, for a brief moment, before my more realistic self told me to snap the heck out of it!)

Two days. Two 1/2 hour intervals when I was utterly unreachable!

And you know what, people? I am starting to feel more like myself again.

I am being nicer to my hubby.

I am more interested in attending to my children's needs.

I am a bit less resentful.

Because, I, Like Miss Woolf, am not crazy. I am not even selfish...I simply need some space. My space.

I need my own room (and not just for when I am sleeping)...

G'night.
(ps, my hubby is awesome and very helpful, and my children are gems. i just need to learn to assert and attend to my needs so as to not begin to blame them for my funky moods!)

Tweet

My Baby Girl

A question I often received while pregnant with dr.b was, 'Are you excited?'. One would think my response would be an automatic 'YES!'. But no. Actually, my response was not an automatic anything. I had to really search myself to appreciate or even understand how I felt about the inevitability of this new babe.

I know one reservation I had about a new child was the whole going from one to two thing. But that was too simple a reason to feel unsure.

Another reason, of course, was being on maternity leave again. While I loved being off with e, we all know how tough that year was on me.

In fact, that would be reason number three as to why I wasn't jumping full tilt for joy at the prospect of another baby: what if this baby is just as challenging as e had been???

But, when it really got down to it, there was only one real reason I was not fully excited: the entrance of a new baby meant the exit (ish) of the first one. My little e would not be the baby anymore.

I only fully realized this upsetting thought tonight as I did my nightly visit to her room to watch her as she slept. In this moment I still see my baby girl: my first baby. My favourite girl in the whole world. In her sleep she still moves her body like a baby, lifting her hands up like only a baby does, so gently and innocently. The way she breathes, the way her body relaxes. In these few moments I am reacquainted with my baby e, and it's magical.

But tonight, as I left the room, the longing really hit me. My baby. My first baby girl. That perfect, albeit challenging, little being with whom my whole heart belongs, will never again be my baby.

And this realization took me back to that Sunday nearly nine weeks ago when I dropped her off at her grandparents. I sobbed as I turned and left her because I knew that nothing would ever be the same (for her) after that day. I thought at the time that these tears were truly for her: I was saddened to think that someone would be imposing on the attention she always had received from her parents. I thought it was sad that this wonderful gift would be gone from her life forever: her days as an only child would be no more. And truly, this thought really did make me so sad...my heart hurt for her. I hated that we were doing this to her...Though I did know that she needed a sibling, a (God willing) friend for her for life...

But that was not the only reason for my tears. They were not so selfless. No. I was crying for me. Because from the moment I dropped e off, from that very moment, she was no longer my baby; my first baby; the baby with whom I had so many struggles, heart-aches and joys. The girl around whom nearly all my early posts focused. The girl who in any given moment could break my heart, leave me in awe and fill me so full...


Those same tears that I cried when I left e to have dr. b resurfaced on the happy day when we brought dr. b home from the hospital. As e's grandparents lifted her from the SUV Volvo that had brought her home to meet the new addition, I stood watching excitedly at the door. However, while this was an exciting and happy time, all I could do was sob...As I stood there, I saw a stranger: the girl whom had always been my baby girl, looked so big to me now. My heart broke even more.

My first baby would no longer be that - my baby. And I will never get her back.


During the time of dr. b's birth, e grew up. She became my little girl. And while this prospect is exciting, and I should regard it all in a positive light, it still makes me sick in my heart to know that that little baby has gone forever...

And so I will continue to go in every night and catch those little glimpses of my baby e...

Robert Munsch was oh so right. He captured the essence of this need to hold on to my baby so perfectly...

I love e forever,
I love e for always...
As long as I'm living,
My baby she'll be...

*tear...

Tweet

Control

So, I thought I knew myself well, and on the surface, I do. But at the core, I am very ignorant about a very prevalent (apparently) trait of mine. Seemingly, I am a control freak. I think I've tried hard to spend my life pretending I am carefree - a free spirit if you will. But you only have to know me for a brief minute to know that my free spirit act takes a lot of effort and energy....

Because deep to the core of me, I am a control freak. But you already knew that didn't you?

Step one foot into my classroom and it is apparent.

Listen to me talk about my weight and it's obvious.

Hear me try and sort out some relationship with someone and you realize that i. have. to. be. in. control. Not in control of someone. Just in control. Of all situations. I have to know what's going on at all times. And I have to know how to deal appropriately with situations. AT. ALL. TIMES.

And I will ask everyone their thoughts. And I will research every situation similar to mine. Because I am in desperate search for this intangible and unattainable concept of control.

And yet, hypothetically, if not spiritually and/or philosophically, I know that life's greatest gift to us is its ability to surprise us. To humble us. To remind us that we are absolutely at its mercy and whim.

And yet I still try to fight it.

You know: going to a psychic and all that. Isn't such a gesture my way of trying to defy the inevitable - which of course is that the only control I have in this here life is the choices I make?

Okay. So this entry might be a bit of a ramble. Let me get to my point.

What I have learned in my thirty two years, mostly in the last two, is that it is better to ease off and try my damndest to let things just happen authentically, organically.

The need to relinquish my obsession with trying to be the Master of My Universe has proven to be even more necessary when I bore my children. In particular, of course, when they were babies. Because if you didn't know this already - they rule the roosts. They are the bosses. And don't even try to attempt otherwise. They will humble us parents again and again; constantly reminding us that they have us by our kahunas...

We do have to guide and lead in some aspects, but in many ways, we have to stand back and let our little ones find their comfort.

For instance, try putting a child who is not tired, or who is the other extreme: wired, to bed. Try as we might, they will not sleep. There are windows we must watch for. That first yawn or the glazed over eyes. Only then is it productive to try and lay a babe down.

We must follow our little one's lead.

Now, as I've said, I like to lead.

And I am old.

Set in my ways.

So you can imagine how undergoing this new way of being, this new perspective or whatever, is very foreign to me. And very hard to adapt to.

Survival of the fittest my ass.

It's hard to adapt.

But I am trying.

And d and e are constantly reasserting and reminding me that I. am. not. in. control.  No matter how hard I try, they are the ring leaders...I am just the guide (ha ha)...

Maybe I will one day fully surrender myself to this concept.

Until then I will make myself miserable on a daily basis as I continue to try to fight what simply is.

Foolish mom!

Tweet