Thursday, July 30, 2009

My Kids Rock

Some days it's all I can do to keep on trucking when my kids are screaming and there is some unidentified body fluid on my pants and the house is a mess.

Yesterday was completely not one of those days though.

Yesterday my son just knocked my socks off with how charming he can be and then later my daughter just about killed us with how cute she is.

We recently became owners of a hot tub and have been spending most evenings lounging around in it. The Sprogling LOVES the hot tub. He especially loves the bubbles. In fact, "bubbles" is one of the only words that he can say. Yesterday he was playing in his bedroom by himself when things got silent. A few moments later he comes out stark naked and walks up to me. He grabs my hand and pulls me to the top of the stairs. He looks up at me and in the saddest most pleading voice goes "Bubbles peas?"

Wasn't really planning on going in the tub at that moment but you know what? When I get asked so very nicely I make exceptions.

Little Bit spent the ten minutes before we put her down trying to blow raspberries on Hubby's back and arm. She's only seven months old so this was a first attempt and hilarious to watch. The first hundred attempts were mostly her licking/mouthing him but by the end she was giggling hysterically to herself as she made happy little raspberry noises.


The small moments like this that in the grand scheme of things are inconsequential, are what makes this parenting thing so very worth it.

Monday, July 27, 2009

The Whoops Baby

My daughter was an accident. In fact, my pregnancy almost ended my marriage. After the Sprogling was born I spiralled into post partum depression.

But I did it quietly.

My husband was at work all day so he missed seeing me at my most down. I'd sit staring at the Sprogling napping in his chair and just choke. It was so much work and I was doing the lion's share of it. I spent most of the first six months of the Sprogling's life sleeping as much as possible or crying. I'd nap when he'd nap. Every single time he napped. The rest of the time was spent holding him and cuddling him and feeding him and taking care of him. Never once did I regret having the Sprogling or feel resentful of him but I was so depressed that at times I wished I could just walk away.

I'd make sure that I was up and dressed before my husband got home. Most days that meant that I got dressed maybe half an hour before he was due home. I'd throw something in the microwave for dinner or boil water for pasta. I might take a cloth and wipe down the most visible messes or throw the clothes into the closet.

So when the hubby got home, I appeared fine.

Lazy, but fine. The housework got the barest attention. I was functioning but that was about it.

My marriage was suffering though. When the hubby got home, I would do everything in my power to pawn the Sprogling off so that I could go back to bed. Most nights I was in bed by nine and my hubby and the Sprogling didn't follow until a couple hours later.

You can imagine how frequently we got adult alone time. Never mind sex, we hardly ever talked.

Never once did he ever think that something was wrong with me though. He just believed that I was tired and wanted time alone or that I couldn't handle the baby.


So you can imagine how excited my husband was when I miraculously got pregnant again. I think we had had sex maybe three times since long before the Sprogling was born.

He withdrew. I withdrew. I spent most of my days resenting him for not seeing how much I was hurting and how depressed I was and he spent most of his time wondering what happened to his wife. He started looking outside our marriage for the things he wasn't getting from me. For the things he had stopped looking to me to get.


At one point I actually packed up my bags and the Sprogling and left him. I was six months pregnant at the time and we both had had enough. I even called divorce lawyers, because there was no way I was going to raise my babies in the environment that we were offering to them. We spent most of a month apart and actually worked through some things, mostly by talking on the phone. It was as if the distance made it easier to verbalize things and actually think about what the other was saying.

The months just before Little Bit was born were the worst of my life. I was still hurting so much and my husband was so unenthusiastic about the baby. Where the Sprogling had been planned and cherished and anticipated, my pregnancy with Little Bit felt the exact opposite.

I believe that my husband felt that if things got so bad with a child we had prepared for, how much worse would they get with the surprise pregnancy baby. I hated him at some points for taking away the joy that I felt for the new baby and tainting what should have been a really happy experience.


I can't say that things magically got better once she was born. They didn't. Having a baby only fixes relationships in poorly written romance novels. But we worked through things. Are still working through things.

Little Bit is one of the most loved babies you will ever find. She is hardly ever not in someone's arms or playing with someone, and she has her daddy firmly wrapped around her little finger.

She may not have been planned, but she is loved and such an important and "right" part of our family.



Friday, July 24, 2009

Something to mention at her wedding


My daughter was born a little bit early and as a consequence was born fuzzy. She was still covered from ears to toe in lanugo. I have a fond memory of her nursing and me playing with the soft hair that covered her ear.

Now that she is nearly 8 months old, she's lost pretty much all of it.

Except for one inch and half area just above her bum. This patch of fur has spawned a family nick name for her of Fuzzybutt.

I'm sure that we may be doing her some kind of psychological damage but it's just too cute! Her little fuzzy patch is practically the only hair on her body as she is a little baldy baby.

It's something that I'm going to write down in her baby book and be sure to mention to her high school boyfriends and in my speech at her wedding.




Monday, July 20, 2009

Making do

My husband and I struggle with money. We've never come to the point where we have had to say we are flat out broke, but we have come close a couple of times. Mostly when the **** hits the fans.

Our problem is that we don't like to do without. When we have money, we know we can spend it so we do. If we are out and about, it's much easier to just grab some food from the food court than it is to remember to pack some snacks or to wait until we get home to eat.

I'm drawn to sales. I've said it before, I love shopping.


So we've started to change our ways. We are making do. When we go out and the urge to splurge hits us, we actively take the time to pause and consider and reconsider. Do we need this? If so do we need this right now? Can we get it cheaper somewhere else?

For instance, my kids and I have been spending on average 2-4 hours per day out walking. Its great exercise and they like looking at the neighbourhood and generally I can get them to fall asleep during the walk. But my poor stroller isn't holding up very well. It was just a cheap double stroller that we bought so I wouldn't have to sling Little Bit absolutely everywhere. What I really want is a double jogging stroller.

But the fact is I don't need it. As long as I don't go too fast and we don't go too far my stroller doesn't yell at me too much. When and if it breaks then I'll go out and find a used jogging stroller but it's really too gluttonous to have two strollers at once. I just can't justify it to myself.


This is a really hard concept for us to really get around. The fact that just because it's there, doesn't mean we should spend it. Saving is hard. Having all the money go into one account is harder. My hubby goes out and spends money when I'm not around and I do the same when he's not around so at the end of the month neither of us is really sure what's left in the account.

Our new goal is to live plastic free. At the start of a pay period we are going to take out a set amount of money and that's all we will be allowed to use for personal use and things like groceries. Most of our bills get taken out automatically so that's taken care of.

I think if we can manage to just live on cash our spending will drop dramatically and we'll be able to start making a nice little cushion.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

He sure says a lot for someone who doesn’t talk

My son is pretty much non verbal. Not that he's silent, because believe me, there is a very small amount of time during the dead of the night when he isn't making noises. He just hasn't started talking yet. At all.

Now for me this is a big deal. I know it shouldn't be and that I shouldn't judge my child against other children his age, but it's hard. He's turning two next month and he still doesn't call me mama consistently.There are two kids the exact same age at our playgroup and a couple who are up to six months younger than him. They all have more words than he does. The health nurse at his check up scolded me for not getting him to say anything. Like I have a choice in this matter!

My son is in no way not intelligent. He understands everything we say. Everything. We have taken to spelling out things like chocolate or work because he understands and gets upset when we either don't share or when he knows Daddy is about to go to work. You can ask him to go turn off the tv, or fetch something from the other room and he will.

We've taken to teaching him sign language, in a hope that it cuts down on the total melt downs we have been experiencing when he cannot get across what he wants us to know. Its working beautifully but for me it's still bittersweet. My son can come up to me and sign "Milk please" and can say he's sorry when he hurts his sister but he won't or cannot say Papa to his father.

Now he had major tongue problems when he was born that I am absolutely sure is contributing to the problem, but it breaks my heart when people judge him, which other parents do even if they don't mean to. It hurts to watch him break down when he can't make us understand.

It just plain hurts to have my poor baby not be able to do the things we both know he should be able to do.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Job Title Here

I am a housewife and stay at home mom. The job can be extremely isolating, extremely difficult and the hours stink. Not that I would give it up for a second, but lately it's been kicking my butt. Hence the radio silence. I have five blog posts started and saved as drafts. I just haven't been able to finish them and get them up on the web.

My daughter has been ill for the past couple days. She's had a fever that peaked at 40.8 C yesterday. A temperature that high is scary in an adult, never mind in someone so tiny, and it's doubly frustrating when you call up your doctor and they tell you that it's fine even though she's been sick for days. I took her in and there appears to be nothing wrong with her but I have small little "oinks" playing in my head. Last night was particularly hard as she wouldn't sleep for love or money and I spent three hours sitting up and rocking with her until nearly two in the morning. I never stay up that late as I know full well that the Sprogling will be up bright and early at 6 or 7.

I've been feeling more and more isolated, even though I've been going out quite a fair bit. It doesn't seem to be enough anymore to have my mom and tots group and at least one other trip out during the week. I feel the need to get out without my children... which is impossible. I play baseball once a week and generally go all by myself, and when I get home, Hubby gratefully thrusts Little Bit into my hands and immediately disappears outside to chill out for at least half an hour. This is after only two hours by himself with the kids. I can't imagine the destruction and chaos that I would find if I were to go out for an entire evening or heaven forbid, a whole day!

My house is in shambles, partly because my husband has gained an extra day off which means that I have lost one of my designated cleaning days, and partly because now that he's home more he... puts more things out of place. I just don't have the desire to stay up late and clean lately. This means right at this moment there is a pile of dishes in the sink, my kiddo's trays are still mucky from breakfast and my living room looks like a toy store exploded. Don't even get me started on our bedroom. I have just written it off. No one needs to see that and lately it's more likely one or the other of us spends the night either in the Sproglings room or the living room anyways.


I'm tired. I need a hug. Preferably one that doesn't include sticky hands or a runny nose being wiped on me. Please?


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