- Princess loves her new class. Her desk is beside one of her friends from last year, and her best-school-friends from Kindergarten and Grade 1 are in her class.
- Princess remembers French afterall. And apparently her teacher is "really nice".
- Tobes got a new airplane magazine, and we snuggled on the couch last night looking at all the cool jets.
- My grocery shopping got done. And I mean my once-a-month monster shopping got done. Major thanks to Zita for that one. During the shopping trip I also got to process almost all of my emotions so that I wasn't a raging lunatic for the entire day.
- My husband took the afternoon off. He took the afternoon off because his hysterical wife called him sobbing and threatening to sell his son to the circus, but it was nice to see him nonetheless.
- I got to take Princess out for "coffee" after school, which gave us a solid hour of "us" time and I got to hear all about her first day at school. And give her that hug I owed her. There were lots of hugs. She was embarrassed by the sheer number of hugs. My duty was done.
- Tobes calmed down and got to build his new puzzle in the afternoon.
- I got a workout in.
- I made yummy meatballs for supper (thank goodness for #4!!)
- I got a lot of comments, private messages, and texts from close friends, past friends, and acquaintances who read my blog post yesterday, and last night you were all my support team. It was really nice to hear just how not-alone I was, and just how many people understood what I was going through when I sincerely felt like I was on a little lonely island. I know some people get it, I just didn't realize how many.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
10 Things.
Yesterday wasn't all bad. It was pretty awful, one of the worst days of the past year, I almost quit right then and there, but there were a few silver linings. I am still processing it, but part of that process is to recognize the things that made it not entirely awful.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
I Cried.
I sincerely thought this September would be different. We had worked on anxiety issues, sleep issues, and diet issues. We talked a LOT about what September 2nd would look like for all involved. We counted down days, and also talked about schedules and "what's next". We planned and prepped and I genuinely thought this year would be different.
It couldn't get any worse.
Except it did. This year Princess was nervous about going into Grade 2. In French immersion, grade 2 is the year that they are expected to speak all-French, all the time. She was cool and collected until last night, when she became scared and intimidated. This morning she crawled into my bed, and we snuggled for a full hour before the alarm went off.
This year Tobes, who had regressed at the beginning of the summer in all aspects (sleep, anxiety, etc) and then who had a bit of a leap forward in August, woke up in a horrible mood, and it built from there. Despite all the discussion and preparation we did, he just wasn't ready for today.
This year I was as prepared as I thought I could be the night before - Princess had all the stuff she needed, Tobes had all the stuff I needed, but forgot to grab all the stuff I needed... Like my purse.
This morning went ok - we got celebratory pictures in the driveway, we talked more about our plans for the day, and were ready to go... I thought. Then I couldn't find my purse, which set us back 10 minutes. Then Tobes started to cry (full-on tears, boarderline meltdown) about everything (first it was that he was hungry. When I gave him his snack, he was bored, then he was thirsty, etc), which wore on my nerves. Then traffic was horrific, which set us back another few. Then the 15 minute buffer I gave myself slowly slipped away. We got to school just before the first bell, which would have been more than enough time if I weren't dragging a sobbing kid down a packed hallway.
We found Princess' classroom, which was almost full. I urged her towards a desk and she stood there, frozen. She knew most of the kids in her class, and her two best school friends were there which was awesome, but the "big kid" desks in the "big kid" classroom were overwhelming. And Toby was screaming, and I was being ushered out along with the other parents by the teacher. I quickly said my goodbyes and I left. No picture of her in her desk, no helping her find her coat hook, I was gone.
I was mad at this point. I got Tobes in the car, and started to drive.
Then I thought about how I didn't get to give my daughter a hug goodbye. And I cried.
Then I thought about how my son was "supposed to be" better. And I cried.
Then I thought about how he ruined my morning. And I cried.
Then I thought about how furious I was with him. And I cried.
Then I thought about how guilty I felt for thinking that way. And I cried.
Then I thought about how much he loved his sister. And I cried.
Then I thought about how much he missed her too. And I cried.
Then I thought about how my daughter comes second so often in our everyday lives. And I cried.
Then I thought about how I was once that kid who had "needier" younger siblings, and how much I resented my parents sometimes. And I cried.
Then I thought about how this would be the last time I ever had a "First Day Dropoff" with just her. And I cried.
Then I thought about how old she is getting, and how much I feel like I've missed in her life because of "other things" (so very much beyond other family members), and I cried.
My day overall improved, thanks to a best friend willing to grocery shop with two blubbery messes, and a husband who rushed home at lunch. I took Princess out for "coffee" after school and we are having a chill evening. But it's going to take some time to recover from this one.
It couldn't get any worse.
Except it did. This year Princess was nervous about going into Grade 2. In French immersion, grade 2 is the year that they are expected to speak all-French, all the time. She was cool and collected until last night, when she became scared and intimidated. This morning she crawled into my bed, and we snuggled for a full hour before the alarm went off.
This year Tobes, who had regressed at the beginning of the summer in all aspects (sleep, anxiety, etc) and then who had a bit of a leap forward in August, woke up in a horrible mood, and it built from there. Despite all the discussion and preparation we did, he just wasn't ready for today.
This year I was as prepared as I thought I could be the night before - Princess had all the stuff she needed, Tobes had all the stuff I needed, but forgot to grab all the stuff I needed... Like my purse.
This morning went ok - we got celebratory pictures in the driveway, we talked more about our plans for the day, and were ready to go... I thought. Then I couldn't find my purse, which set us back 10 minutes. Then Tobes started to cry (full-on tears, boarderline meltdown) about everything (first it was that he was hungry. When I gave him his snack, he was bored, then he was thirsty, etc), which wore on my nerves. Then traffic was horrific, which set us back another few. Then the 15 minute buffer I gave myself slowly slipped away. We got to school just before the first bell, which would have been more than enough time if I weren't dragging a sobbing kid down a packed hallway.
We found Princess' classroom, which was almost full. I urged her towards a desk and she stood there, frozen. She knew most of the kids in her class, and her two best school friends were there which was awesome, but the "big kid" desks in the "big kid" classroom were overwhelming. And Toby was screaming, and I was being ushered out along with the other parents by the teacher. I quickly said my goodbyes and I left. No picture of her in her desk, no helping her find her coat hook, I was gone.
I was mad at this point. I got Tobes in the car, and started to drive.
Then I thought about how I didn't get to give my daughter a hug goodbye. And I cried.
Then I thought about how my son was "supposed to be" better. And I cried.
Then I thought about how he ruined my morning. And I cried.
Then I thought about how furious I was with him. And I cried.
Then I thought about how guilty I felt for thinking that way. And I cried.
Then I thought about how much he loved his sister. And I cried.
Then I thought about how much he missed her too. And I cried.
Then I thought about how my daughter comes second so often in our everyday lives. And I cried.
Then I thought about how I was once that kid who had "needier" younger siblings, and how much I resented my parents sometimes. And I cried.
Then I thought about how this would be the last time I ever had a "First Day Dropoff" with just her. And I cried.
Then I thought about how old she is getting, and how much I feel like I've missed in her life because of "other things" (so very much beyond other family members), and I cried.
My day overall improved, thanks to a best friend willing to grocery shop with two blubbery messes, and a husband who rushed home at lunch. I took Princess out for "coffee" after school and we are having a chill evening. But it's going to take some time to recover from this one.
Monday, September 1, 2014
Last Days of Summer
I've taken the last few days off from the Summer Blog Challenge, and I'm not all that sorry. I have a few new half-finished posts in my queue (of course), but this weekend is the last weekend of summer, and we are enjoying as much of it as we can!
Princess is counting-down down hours (literally) until she starts grade 2. She is excited and ready to go. Her backpack is packed, first-day outfit is picked, and she is excited to meet her new teacher. She is excited to see her school friends again, and excited for a "real desk".
Tobes is anxious (as he is every September). He is not looking forward to his sister/best friend going back to school. He's not looking forward to his playmate being gone for so long. However, he is excited for gymnastics to start up again, and we've already created a list 10-miles long of fun activities to do during our days alone again. I've also gotten smarter, and this year I've formed a bit of a "Lonely Younger Siblings Club" - finding other abandoned younger siblings that he can playdate with.
But for now, we soak up the very last day of summer vacation. This summer has been amazing. I lament that it's gone by so fast, and yet when I look at my bucket list there are very few things that haven't been crossed off. Montreal was an AMAZING adventure, and I reconnected with childhood friends on the other side of the country. The kids saw Niagara Falls, and Princess danced on stage with National-level competitors. This summer we went to the zoo (a lot), Fort Edmonton, and the corn maze. This summer we swam and biked and spent an insane amount of time outside at spray parks. This summer Princess learned to ride a 2-wheeler, and Tobes passed a level in swimming. This summer they both got a lot braver in the water, Princess learned to swing across the monkeybars all by herself, and Tobes started to learn Star Wars math.
This summer went by way too quickly (in 23 hours and 40 minutes, Princess starts school) but we filled it with fantastic memories!
Princess is counting-down down hours (literally) until she starts grade 2. She is excited and ready to go. Her backpack is packed, first-day outfit is picked, and she is excited to meet her new teacher. She is excited to see her school friends again, and excited for a "real desk".
Tobes is anxious (as he is every September). He is not looking forward to his sister/best friend going back to school. He's not looking forward to his playmate being gone for so long. However, he is excited for gymnastics to start up again, and we've already created a list 10-miles long of fun activities to do during our days alone again. I've also gotten smarter, and this year I've formed a bit of a "Lonely Younger Siblings Club" - finding other abandoned younger siblings that he can playdate with.
But for now, we soak up the very last day of summer vacation. This summer has been amazing. I lament that it's gone by so fast, and yet when I look at my bucket list there are very few things that haven't been crossed off. Montreal was an AMAZING adventure, and I reconnected with childhood friends on the other side of the country. The kids saw Niagara Falls, and Princess danced on stage with National-level competitors. This summer we went to the zoo (a lot), Fort Edmonton, and the corn maze. This summer we swam and biked and spent an insane amount of time outside at spray parks. This summer Princess learned to ride a 2-wheeler, and Tobes passed a level in swimming. This summer they both got a lot braver in the water, Princess learned to swing across the monkeybars all by herself, and Tobes started to learn Star Wars math.
This summer went by way too quickly (in 23 hours and 40 minutes, Princess starts school) but we filled it with fantastic memories!
Thursday, August 28, 2014
The Pretzel Update (and another whine)
Following up on my "In Search Of" post.
I found... something. Something that doesn't entirely taste unlike pretzels. And in GF baking, as I have come to expect, that's as close as I'm going to get.
That's not to say ALL gluten-free stuff is bad... I have found awesome pasta and bread that I can make grilled cheese sandwiches for myself out of. I eat grilled cheese with ketchup now. I never did before. I have found a good scone recipe (when I remember to put in ALL the flour), and I have even discovered things like cauliflower and spaghetti squash. Yes, discovered. These were things I dared not try before ;) But nothing will replace the gluteny-yumminess of white flour. I have toyed with forgoing "taste-alikes" altogether and just changing our diet outright - spaghetti squash for "pasta", forgo bread and find other lunch items to make the kids, and lettuce wraps to replace buns. But my family (not just me!) doesn't entirely embrace change. That adventure might be saved for down the road...
But now I can add pretzels to the list of things I can make. It's only 7 ingredients for the flour, and with a bit of extra salt and sugar (as I have learned to add with most bread recipes), it tastes pretty damn good! They even fluff up!
Now for the blogging fail... Aside from taking a picture of the 7-part flour, I took no pictures during the process. So next time, my friends. Next time.
For now, just rejoice in the fact that I found pretzels again.
(in case you're wondering, I used this recipe, with the "Better than Cup4Cup" flour from this page)
I found... something. Something that doesn't entirely taste unlike pretzels. And in GF baking, as I have come to expect, that's as close as I'm going to get.
That's not to say ALL gluten-free stuff is bad... I have found awesome pasta and bread that I can make grilled cheese sandwiches for myself out of. I eat grilled cheese with ketchup now. I never did before. I have found a good scone recipe (when I remember to put in ALL the flour), and I have even discovered things like cauliflower and spaghetti squash. Yes, discovered. These were things I dared not try before ;) But nothing will replace the gluteny-yumminess of white flour. I have toyed with forgoing "taste-alikes" altogether and just changing our diet outright - spaghetti squash for "pasta", forgo bread and find other lunch items to make the kids, and lettuce wraps to replace buns. But my family (not just me!) doesn't entirely embrace change. That adventure might be saved for down the road...
But now I can add pretzels to the list of things I can make. It's only 7 ingredients for the flour, and with a bit of extra salt and sugar (as I have learned to add with most bread recipes), it tastes pretty damn good! They even fluff up!
Now for the blogging fail... Aside from taking a picture of the 7-part flour, I took no pictures during the process. So next time, my friends. Next time.
For now, just rejoice in the fact that I found pretzels again.
(in case you're wondering, I used this recipe, with the "Better than Cup4Cup" flour from this page)
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Besties
Today I took some pictures of my daughter and her bestie. These girls have known each other literally their entire lives. They have taken swimming lessons and gymnastics together, and they have been travelling and gone on adventures together.
Today wasn't just a "photo shoot", it was a celebration of a special relationship I hope Princess can have forever. I hope they call each other every day as teenagers and go on double dates. I hope they are university roommates someday, are in each other's weddings someday, and I hope that someday they have play dates with their kids.
But even if they don't, right now I treasure who they are to each other in this moment. They tell each other secrets, and cheer each other on. They build forts in my dining room, and make fairy houses in the park. They draw each other pictures, and Princess chomps at the bit to text her bestie whenever she has screen time. They laugh together, cry together, and love each other a whole lot.
Today I celebrated a relationship between two special little girls.
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Fine, I'm a Dance Mom.
I started to write this post last year. It was originally titled "I'm not a dance mom!", a loud declaration to anyone who'd listen about how not-down-the-rabbit-hole I was. Unfortunately, it was incredibly false. I AM a dance mom, I'm just not one of THOSE dance moms.
You know, the ones that you see on TV, that spend every waking moment at the studio, sewing rhinestones on costumes and b*tching about the teacher, other parents, who is the teacher's pet and how much they hate the teacher's pet's mom. They complain that the teacher is too mean/costumes too skimpy/dances too difficult/not difficult enough. Their other children/spouses/outside worlds are noticeably absent in conversation or social media. They get drunk with other dance moms, get into fisticuffs with other dance moms, and while they swear it's all for the kids, you know who's driving the bus on this one...
Of course I'm a dance mom. I spend countless hours at the studio, or on the road to competitions. I have a Pinterest board of solo dresses and while I am writing this blog post I am also researching new soft shoes for Princess. You can bet that dance comes into my conversations with friends/family/the checkout lady at Safeway at least 5 times a day, and OF COURSE I've gotten drunk with my fellow dance moms (our parents association meeting was held at a place that was serving alcohol at 10AM today). And you had better believe...
Who else can say that their 7-year-old competed at a national level for their extra curricular? Princess is talented, does amazingly well in competitions, and I will never get sick of watching her on stage. My heart skips a beat every time she performs.
But here's where I see some differences.
I'm a dance mom. I'm just not one of THOSE dance moms... Right?
You know, the ones that you see on TV, that spend every waking moment at the studio, sewing rhinestones on costumes and b*tching about the teacher, other parents, who is the teacher's pet and how much they hate the teacher's pet's mom. They complain that the teacher is too mean/costumes too skimpy/dances too difficult/not difficult enough. Their other children/spouses/outside worlds are noticeably absent in conversation or social media. They get drunk with other dance moms, get into fisticuffs with other dance moms, and while they swear it's all for the kids, you know who's driving the bus on this one...
Of course I'm a dance mom. I spend countless hours at the studio, or on the road to competitions. I have a Pinterest board of solo dresses and while I am writing this blog post I am also researching new soft shoes for Princess. You can bet that dance comes into my conversations with friends/family/the checkout lady at Safeway at least 5 times a day, and OF COURSE I've gotten drunk with my fellow dance moms (our parents association meeting was held at a place that was serving alcohol at 10AM today). And you had better believe...
Who else can say that their 7-year-old competed at a national level for their extra curricular? Princess is talented, does amazingly well in competitions, and I will never get sick of watching her on stage. My heart skips a beat every time she performs.
But here's where I see some differences.
- She's (we? I?) not in it for the fame. Let's be realistic here - if I were to name-drop Joel Hanna (he teaches my daughter workshops) or Ciara Sexton (we met her in June), it's probably a select few who would know who I'm talking about, and be excited about it. Touring shows are making Irish Dance a lot more well-known, but I don't foresee my daughter making it big in Hollywood, or becoming a TV star.
- I did it too. I'm not just a mom who "drank the kool aid". I used to Irish Dance. I danced for over 10 years. I watch Irish Dance videos on youtube for fun, and Princess was first exposed to it when she was 2 because I put Riverdance on the TV for the millionth time. I love the music, I love the art form, and I always said I would return to it as an adult when I could (tried that this past year... did not go well...) I love watching other dancers at competitions almost as much as I love watching my own daughter. She's also dancing at my old school, so it's something special to us both. She and I wore the same style dress...
I am much older in this picture than I look/care to admit... - Because of #2, it's something that Princess and I can share. It's something that we can bond over. We get automatic "us" time at competitions, and have fun adventures together. It gives me some Princess time now that she's in school all day.
- Despite #2, I know the difference between her dreams and mine. I really do. And decisions we make about her classes, practices, and events are heavily discussed. Trust me.
- My son will find his own thing, and while I might not have the same nostalgic investment, you'd better believe I will support him just as much - emotionally, financially, and with our time. I don't entirely know how yet, but I will. He tried dance for a year, and gave his teachers a run for their money. This year he is back in gymnastics, and possibly "sport ball" in the winter. We are going to find something he loves, and as much as I joke that WE are a "DANCE FAMILY", if we need to be a dance and gymnastics/soccer/football (I really hope not football... I hate football...) family, so be it!
- I'm not *just* a dance mom. Besides Tobes finding his own thing, I have my own things too. Dance absolutely is part of my daily conversations, but I'm also a lactation consultant, I love to nom babies, and in my spare time sometimes I even craft and sew ;) Someday I would love to "work on my photography" (I don't have photography to work on, but I'd like to eventually), and my last midlife crisis involved researching floor looms, weaving, and raising sheep. I've got my own stuff going on outside these mirrored studio walls!
I'm a dance mom. I'm just not one of THOSE dance moms... Right?
Saturday, August 23, 2014
When I Don't Get It Done (Again)
I wasn't going to blog at all tonight. I was going to post to Facebook some lame excuse as to why I didn't get it done, and go to sleep. I am doing one (very small) step above that - a lame blogpost here about not blogging.
Why? Because at least I've blogged. I am 1 week into the challenge, and right at the point where I usually give up. But tonight's not that night!
To add legitimacy (and length) to this post, I leave you with this: a picture of my adorable kids. Because who could be disappointed at these faces? No one, that's who!!
Why? Because at least I've blogged. I am 1 week into the challenge, and right at the point where I usually give up. But tonight's not that night!
To add legitimacy (and length) to this post, I leave you with this: a picture of my adorable kids. Because who could be disappointed at these faces? No one, that's who!!
Friday, August 22, 2014
New Beginnings
September is always more of a new start than January. New schedules and new routines start. New hopes and resolutions fill my head. New intentions and new promises are made. September is my "new year".
This year there is some familiarity. This year will be similar to last year in the sense that Princess is in full time school and dance, and Tobes is home with me once more, and back into gymnastics. This year I will have the usual morning scramble, then 6 hours to fill (and fill I shall!) and then pick up Princess, and then most often take her to dance ;)
I'm hoping there will be a marked difference too - historically fall has been hard for Tobes. Separation anxiety mixed with health problems has made the last 2 Septembers really difficult. I'm hoping that between dealing with his Celiac disease and helping his anxiety he will have a better time this year. I'm excited for some new adventures with my little man while his sister is away. More on that in another post though.
New year means new resolutions, and I've got some of those too!
- Princess will be on time for school, and beyond that she will be early at least 4 days out of 5.
- I will be on time to pick up Princess every day.
- I will pack Princess' lunch the night before. All year. Not just the first week.
- One half-hour a day will be "table time". Whether it's homework, board games, crafts, or reading, all 3 of us will sit at the table together and hang out.
- Tobes and I will have 1 one-on-one day. Whether we go out or stay in, we will have time for just the 2 of us.
- Princess and I will have a special date once a month too. She and I get special time with dance stuff, but we need just time to hang out too.
- We will meal plan, and follow those plans at least 80% of the time.
- I will not cry Princess' first day of school.
- Even if I really miss her.
We'll see how long this lasts ;)
Thursday, August 21, 2014
In Search Of...
My mission next week is to find an awesome gluten-free pretzel recipe. Did you know there is a Wetzel Pretzel in the mall now? And it smells amazing. So amazing. I miss doughy pretzels. And that cheese sauce? DAMN.
So my mission is to find a pretzel recipe. And I will document it, I promise. And if it turns out well, I will sing it from the rooftops, post about it on social media, and brag about it here. I didn't always hate baking. I used to make awesome pie crusts and I loved making bread. But gluten-free baking just isn't the same. From needing a pantry full of 25 different flours and 16 different starches, to the fact that gluten-free dough DOES NOT FORM INTO ANYTHING, it's just not as awesome as it's gluten-filled, gut-demolishing (in the case of my son) 'a counterpart. :P
While I am working towards accepting the fact that I gotta be me, I do still hope that I can embrace gluten-free baking more. Pies, breads, and pretzels - I hope I can learn to love it again!
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Tales of the Undomesticated Housewife.
Ground beef is cooking on my stove top for freezer meals, grocery bags filled with veggies are being emptied into the refrigerator. The floor got vacuumed yesterday, and toys from the last 2 days of playdates are slowly making their way into their proper places. The dishwasher has been filled, run, unloaded, and is getting refilled again as 3 days worth of dishes are being catched up upon.
Too bad I have had nothing to do with any of it (except the freezer meals. That was my idea).
I have come a long way in our almost 10 years of marriage, but it's still safe to say that my husband is a better housewife than me. It's the joke in our marriage, with our families, and with my friends. I laugh about it as much as my husband does, and joke about the benefits of not living together before marriage (so he had no idea how much work I would be).
Sometimes it hurts my ego way more than I let on, and work my a$$ off to prove to EVERYONE (myself included) that I can do this whole homemaker thing. It doesn't come naturally to me, and often I spend a ridiculous number of hours tidying things that I coulda/shoulda/woulda just put away when I was done with it, instead of leaving it for 3 months. I stay up late dusting, folding laundry, and sweeping the floors. I get up at 5 to spend 3 hours cleaning the kitchen and washing the bathroom floors by hand before the kids wake up. I invite people over to see all the clean in my house (while it lasts), apologize for the clutter on the counter, and give my husband a detailed report of all I got done, just in case live has messed it all up and it's not obvious when he walks through the door. Dinner is ready at 5:30, appointments for the kids are booked, they are registered in activities, and forms/permission slips are signed promptly. I bake and craft and sew and redecorate, and make my home "pretty". And I feel great about myself and my house.
Other days, like today, I am impressed that we made it anywhere on time for anything, I leave a huge box full of peaches on the livingroom couch (because couch peaches are the bestest), it takes me an hour and a half to make mac and cheese for lunch (from a box. Think gluten-free KD. It's not like I'm making the pasta from scratch), and dinner is ready "on time" only because it was thawed by my husband the night before, and it just needed to be put in my slow-cooker this morning when I still had energy. Laundry is done only because of Princess' NEED for clean socks for tomorrow (which reminds me, they're still in the washing machine...) and the fact that both children made it through the day unscathed I wear like a badge of honor. If company is coming over, papers and clutter might be "filed" away into laundry baskets and put in the laundry room, and I might make up excuses that we just got home from a trip, or we are in the middle or reorganizing the house, or we were too busy on the weekend to clean up after ourselves, and I am embarrassed and frustrated.
I used to think that success in personal growth in this area meant that I became the diligent housewife - that the first person I described to you was the person I would be at least most of the time. That I would love spending time cooking and cleaning and always have the energy to bake and sew, that my house would find more order than chaos, and my husband wouldn't need to start dinner when he got home from work ever again. I used to think that someday, somehow I would suddenly become Martha Stewart, and 31 years of mess-making and chore-incompleting habits would suddenly vanish.
I now realize that I will never be that woman. While I will say that moving to a new (bigger) house has helped (more space to store all our stuff) and older kids has meant that I have more hands to help (and different messes to clean), I might never not-have days like today. And I need to be ok with that. I will still have mornings where I choose a clean kitchen over sleep, I still have aspirations of inviting friends over for tea in my spotless kitchen with freshly-made scones (hopefully with all the required ingredients, unlike my last attempt), and I do hope that someday I can walk through my entire house without stepping on legos, a dust-bunny, or a hotwheels car, but I need to cut myself some slack. I need to let go of the notion that I need to be all-or-nothing, that sometimes my house will just be messy, that sometimes my husband will need to pick up my slack, that sometimes surviving the day will be all I can manage, and sometimes there will be peaches on the couch.
Too bad I have had nothing to do with any of it (except the freezer meals. That was my idea).
I have come a long way in our almost 10 years of marriage, but it's still safe to say that my husband is a better housewife than me. It's the joke in our marriage, with our families, and with my friends. I laugh about it as much as my husband does, and joke about the benefits of not living together before marriage (so he had no idea how much work I would be).
Sometimes it hurts my ego way more than I let on, and work my a$$ off to prove to EVERYONE (myself included) that I can do this whole homemaker thing. It doesn't come naturally to me, and often I spend a ridiculous number of hours tidying things that I coulda/shoulda/woulda just put away when I was done with it, instead of leaving it for 3 months. I stay up late dusting, folding laundry, and sweeping the floors. I get up at 5 to spend 3 hours cleaning the kitchen and washing the bathroom floors by hand before the kids wake up. I invite people over to see all the clean in my house (while it lasts), apologize for the clutter on the counter, and give my husband a detailed report of all I got done, just in case live has messed it all up and it's not obvious when he walks through the door. Dinner is ready at 5:30, appointments for the kids are booked, they are registered in activities, and forms/permission slips are signed promptly. I bake and craft and sew and redecorate, and make my home "pretty". And I feel great about myself and my house.
Other days, like today, I am impressed that we made it anywhere on time for anything, I leave a huge box full of peaches on the livingroom couch (because couch peaches are the bestest), it takes me an hour and a half to make mac and cheese for lunch (from a box. Think gluten-free KD. It's not like I'm making the pasta from scratch), and dinner is ready "on time" only because it was thawed by my husband the night before, and it just needed to be put in my slow-cooker this morning when I still had energy. Laundry is done only because of Princess' NEED for clean socks for tomorrow (which reminds me, they're still in the washing machine...) and the fact that both children made it through the day unscathed I wear like a badge of honor. If company is coming over, papers and clutter might be "filed" away into laundry baskets and put in the laundry room, and I might make up excuses that we just got home from a trip, or we are in the middle or reorganizing the house, or we were too busy on the weekend to clean up after ourselves, and I am embarrassed and frustrated.
I used to think that success in personal growth in this area meant that I became the diligent housewife - that the first person I described to you was the person I would be at least most of the time. That I would love spending time cooking and cleaning and always have the energy to bake and sew, that my house would find more order than chaos, and my husband wouldn't need to start dinner when he got home from work ever again. I used to think that someday, somehow I would suddenly become Martha Stewart, and 31 years of mess-making and chore-incompleting habits would suddenly vanish.
I now realize that I will never be that woman. While I will say that moving to a new (bigger) house has helped (more space to store all our stuff) and older kids has meant that I have more hands to help (and different messes to clean), I might never not-have days like today. And I need to be ok with that. I will still have mornings where I choose a clean kitchen over sleep, I still have aspirations of inviting friends over for tea in my spotless kitchen with freshly-made scones (hopefully with all the required ingredients, unlike my last attempt), and I do hope that someday I can walk through my entire house without stepping on legos, a dust-bunny, or a hotwheels car, but I need to cut myself some slack. I need to let go of the notion that I need to be all-or-nothing, that sometimes my house will just be messy, that sometimes my husband will need to pick up my slack, that sometimes surviving the day will be all I can manage, and sometimes there will be peaches on the couch.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
When I Can't Finish What I Start...
I foolishly started a new blog post this morning, instead of finishing an old one. I don't know which I would have been more successful with, but in the end, neither won out. Today was just not that day. Today dance started up again, play dates were had, swimming lessons, and then dinner afterwards which was yummy, but took about an hour too long.
Tonight I am blogging because my blog challenge is about finishing what I start, and even if I don't finish a blog post tonight, I can take one step closer to finishing this challenge, and that's pretty awesome too.
So tomorrow I may finish my post on "making memories", or I might blog about our recent trip to Montreal (in July. I have yet to take the card out of the camera), or maybe I will finish the kids birthday posts (from June). For tonight, I will finish this blog post with a song that has been stuck in my head since my post last night:
(**warning, not entirely appropriate**)
Tonight I am blogging because my blog challenge is about finishing what I start, and even if I don't finish a blog post tonight, I can take one step closer to finishing this challenge, and that's pretty awesome too.
So tomorrow I may finish my post on "making memories", or I might blog about our recent trip to Montreal (in July. I have yet to take the card out of the camera), or maybe I will finish the kids birthday posts (from June). For tonight, I will finish this blog post with a song that has been stuck in my head since my post last night:
(**warning, not entirely appropriate**)
Monday, August 18, 2014
The New Normal
This post was first written two Augusts ago, and then re-visited last August. Third time is a charm for this one. It started out as a terrified collection of thoughts about what school would look like for Princess, as well as the rest of us. The next year I wrote about our "New Normal" - Princess in full-day school, Tobes at home all day with me, and "big kid" activities like dance and gymnastics to juggle. This year, "The New Normal" means a happy return to routine, but also a calmness about and recognition of the fact I am in a new and different place. My whole family is.
I have lived in the "baby" space for a long time, even before my own children. I chose babies as my career. For 10 years (this October), I have been taking care of babies and their families. I have been snuggling, feeding, sniffing (don't judge - babies smell awesome), changing diapers, and rocking them to sleep. I have taught parents how to do basic baby care, and breastfeed. Before my children were born, my friends started to have kids, making me a proud (honorary) Auntie, and Godmother. As my own children have grown, many other friends have had many more babies, giving me more "nieces", "nephews", and another Godchild. Many (almost all) of my close friends are in the baby space now, and I am happy to talk about diapers, breastfeeding, babywearing, and how awesome babies smell (seriously!! they do!!)
But that is not my family's space anymore, and sometimes I forget that. Sometimes I forget that I have a 7-year-old. She is going into Grade 2 in just 15 days (as she is quick to remind me, and thankfully also quick to reassure me that I can still call her my "baby girl"), and while she LOVES all the little kids in our lives and loves to play with them and help them, she is also old enough to start choosing to play more with kids her own age, and making friends independently of my friends. She is old enough to go to friends houses without me, have sleepovers, and start to become a little bit more independent from me.
My youngest is 4. In 15 days it'll go back to just me and my "buddy" all day, but this is the last year I get that. Next year he's off to kindergarten. My husband and I talked long and hard about whether or not to send him to preschool this year, and while I feel right with our decision not to (Princess never did, and we feel like it's the right choice to keep Tobes at home as well, though I can't put into words why), I worried for a long time that part of the reason was just so I could keep little just a little bit longer. But next year he will start half-day kindergarten, giving me 3 solid hours a day that I will be completely alone. In just over 3 weeks, he will be starting back into gymnastics. He is old enough to be in an unparented program, so I will sit and sip my tea for an hour a week while he flips and tips and runs around the gym.
This summer both of them were in unparented swimming lessons, and Princess went to a bike camp that was 3 hours a day for a week. This summer there were days I barely saw them except to doll out food or grab their water bottles from the upper cupboard. Summer reading club this year has gone well, with Princess and Tobes often huddling in one of their beds together, Princess reading him his stories. There has been more than one night where they have requested she read the bedtime story to him, alone, and Hubbyman and I can come in after to tuck them in.
I still have a few wraps that sit lonely in my closet, unless I am babysitting my Goddaughter, or a very rare occasion when Tobes wants "uppy". I have a TON of books on breastfeeding and babycare, but those are now filed away in my "office space" (cupboard) to refer to for my clients, and the change table we used for Princess has been converted into her dresser. I keep buckets of toys for when little littles come over to play, but otherwise their toy space has been taken over by legos, 100 piece puzzles, and board games.
I love babies, and I'm sad that stage of my personal life is over, but I'm excited for this new stage. I'm excited for who my kids are growing up to be, for each of them to gain more independence and make more decisions for themselves.
I'm also thankful for all my friends with babies who let me squish them and smell them. Because babies smell awesome.
I have lived in the "baby" space for a long time, even before my own children. I chose babies as my career. For 10 years (this October), I have been taking care of babies and their families. I have been snuggling, feeding, sniffing (don't judge - babies smell awesome), changing diapers, and rocking them to sleep. I have taught parents how to do basic baby care, and breastfeed. Before my children were born, my friends started to have kids, making me a proud (honorary) Auntie, and Godmother. As my own children have grown, many other friends have had many more babies, giving me more "nieces", "nephews", and another Godchild. Many (almost all) of my close friends are in the baby space now, and I am happy to talk about diapers, breastfeeding, babywearing, and how awesome babies smell (seriously!! they do!!)
But that is not my family's space anymore, and sometimes I forget that. Sometimes I forget that I have a 7-year-old. She is going into Grade 2 in just 15 days (as she is quick to remind me, and thankfully also quick to reassure me that I can still call her my "baby girl"), and while she LOVES all the little kids in our lives and loves to play with them and help them, she is also old enough to start choosing to play more with kids her own age, and making friends independently of my friends. She is old enough to go to friends houses without me, have sleepovers, and start to become a little bit more independent from me.
My youngest is 4. In 15 days it'll go back to just me and my "buddy" all day, but this is the last year I get that. Next year he's off to kindergarten. My husband and I talked long and hard about whether or not to send him to preschool this year, and while I feel right with our decision not to (Princess never did, and we feel like it's the right choice to keep Tobes at home as well, though I can't put into words why), I worried for a long time that part of the reason was just so I could keep little just a little bit longer. But next year he will start half-day kindergarten, giving me 3 solid hours a day that I will be completely alone. In just over 3 weeks, he will be starting back into gymnastics. He is old enough to be in an unparented program, so I will sit and sip my tea for an hour a week while he flips and tips and runs around the gym.
This summer both of them were in unparented swimming lessons, and Princess went to a bike camp that was 3 hours a day for a week. This summer there were days I barely saw them except to doll out food or grab their water bottles from the upper cupboard. Summer reading club this year has gone well, with Princess and Tobes often huddling in one of their beds together, Princess reading him his stories. There has been more than one night where they have requested she read the bedtime story to him, alone, and Hubbyman and I can come in after to tuck them in.
I still have a few wraps that sit lonely in my closet, unless I am babysitting my Goddaughter, or a very rare occasion when Tobes wants "uppy". I have a TON of books on breastfeeding and babycare, but those are now filed away in my "office space" (cupboard) to refer to for my clients, and the change table we used for Princess has been converted into her dresser. I keep buckets of toys for when little littles come over to play, but otherwise their toy space has been taken over by legos, 100 piece puzzles, and board games.
I love babies, and I'm sad that stage of my personal life is over, but I'm excited for this new stage. I'm excited for who my kids are growing up to be, for each of them to gain more independence and make more decisions for themselves.
I'm also thankful for all my friends with babies who let me squish them and smell them. Because babies smell awesome.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
"No News is Good News"... Almost
First post to be finished is from December of 2013, the update (finally) from my November post. The update on test results. I need to heavily edit it because there have been a LOT more updates in the last 8 months, and the irony is that even once the post in finished, the topic is actually far from. But I will do my best,
And tonight I bring you "No News is Good News... Almost"
***
I've always hated that phrase. I've hated to say it as a nurse, and I've hated to hear it as a patient. No news isn't always good news. No news can mean that the results are normal, or it could mean that the ball has been dropped (as it has on me more than once). No news could mean no news yet, or bad news once we get the proper consultations or specialists in place. I understand that a busy doctor's office can't call people with the results of all tests all the time, but I think that when it's a specific diagnostic test, then it would be nice to get a call regardless.b
It has been a long, hard, frustrating road since November, when the rest of us got tested for Celiac disease. Hubbyman and Princess came back negative in their bloodwork (only once I called the doctor, and fought with the receptionist, which was the original rant of this post). While we are GF at home, they enjoy gluten when we're out and about with no issue (other than the practical implications so as not to contaminate Tobes). It turns out that my test results weren't so straightforward. Apparently I am deficient in the component of the blood that they test for in the Celiac bloodwork, meaning my negative result meant nothing. I started getting some pretty gnarly symptoms in January, which led to the decision for me to get an endoscopy in May. I got some answers (negative for Celiac disease), but a whole lot more "wait and see", and "we'll call you"s that didn't happen. I barely saw the specialist (and only after I harassed the nurse. Apparently they thought I'd be fine with a printout, and wouldn't have any questions), and then got conflicting information from the pharmacist when my prescription changed. It's a good thing I'm a nurse, and know how to play the system...
I'm hoping more answers will come next week, when I actually meet the gastroenterologist who did the procedure in May for longer than 2 minutes while I'm still groggy. I'm hoping to hear more about my results from 3 months ago, and more about what I can/cannot do to help me feel better (my symptoms have started to appear and worsen again in the last few weeks).
The discussion of what drives me to get these answers can be saved for another day. For now what matters is that the whole "no news is good news" thing is a load of crock, and the waiting game sucks.
And tonight I bring you "No News is Good News... Almost"
***
I've always hated that phrase. I've hated to say it as a nurse, and I've hated to hear it as a patient. No news isn't always good news. No news can mean that the results are normal, or it could mean that the ball has been dropped (as it has on me more than once). No news could mean no news yet, or bad news once we get the proper consultations or specialists in place. I understand that a busy doctor's office can't call people with the results of all tests all the time, but I think that when it's a specific diagnostic test, then it would be nice to get a call regardless.b
It has been a long, hard, frustrating road since November, when the rest of us got tested for Celiac disease. Hubbyman and Princess came back negative in their bloodwork (only once I called the doctor, and fought with the receptionist, which was the original rant of this post). While we are GF at home, they enjoy gluten when we're out and about with no issue (other than the practical implications so as not to contaminate Tobes). It turns out that my test results weren't so straightforward. Apparently I am deficient in the component of the blood that they test for in the Celiac bloodwork, meaning my negative result meant nothing. I started getting some pretty gnarly symptoms in January, which led to the decision for me to get an endoscopy in May. I got some answers (negative for Celiac disease), but a whole lot more "wait and see", and "we'll call you"s that didn't happen. I barely saw the specialist (and only after I harassed the nurse. Apparently they thought I'd be fine with a printout, and wouldn't have any questions), and then got conflicting information from the pharmacist when my prescription changed. It's a good thing I'm a nurse, and know how to play the system...
I'm hoping more answers will come next week, when I actually meet the gastroenterologist who did the procedure in May for longer than 2 minutes while I'm still groggy. I'm hoping to hear more about my results from 3 months ago, and more about what I can/cannot do to help me feel better (my symptoms have started to appear and worsen again in the last few weeks).
The discussion of what drives me to get these answers can be saved for another day. For now what matters is that the whole "no news is good news" thing is a load of crock, and the waiting game sucks.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Summer Blog Challenge
I have not blogged since last November. It's not for lack of trying - my draft queue is filled with half-written ideas, little starts and random thoughts. A whole bunch of cool friends (who also blog) are doing a Summer Blog Challenge, and I feel like it's as good a time as any to catch up, to finish some of those thoughts, and to explore some new ideas.
My biggest goal from this challenge is to learn how to finish a post. I have a tenancy to start one topic, link it to another one, and then leave both expertly unfinished. Then they both get banished to my "draft list", never to be seen again, I curse the whole notion of "blogging" in general, and go rot my brain on bad reality TV.
Take this post for example. It's taken me 2 hours to write this. Why? Because I've started at least 4 new topics in this post in the last 2 hours, none of which have anything to do with the Summer Blog Challenge (other than the fact that they are blog posts, posts that I might write during the challenge. This summer).
So before I start my 5th topic (it's a toss-up between "I'm not really a dance mom", and "I like helping people"), I will end this here. Look at me finishing a thought, and then hitting publish before everything is muddled!
Small victories, my friends ;)
My biggest goal from this challenge is to learn how to finish a post. I have a tenancy to start one topic, link it to another one, and then leave both expertly unfinished. Then they both get banished to my "draft list", never to be seen again, I curse the whole notion of "blogging" in general, and go rot my brain on bad reality TV.
Take this post for example. It's taken me 2 hours to write this. Why? Because I've started at least 4 new topics in this post in the last 2 hours, none of which have anything to do with the Summer Blog Challenge (other than the fact that they are blog posts, posts that I might write during the challenge. This summer).
So before I start my 5th topic (it's a toss-up between "I'm not really a dance mom", and "I like helping people"), I will end this here. Look at me finishing a thought, and then hitting publish before everything is muddled!
Small victories, my friends ;)
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