don't eat the paint

It’s no secret I am no fan of being pregnant but I hope for those who don’t know me know just how much I adore being a mom.  No one coercered me into my present state of nasuea, headaches and dwindling bladder control. It’s all my fault.

I do wish that media would play up the crappy parts of pregnancy and child birth through a little more, frankly misery loves company and I am looking for some company! It’s not that I want to rain on the parade of those woman who sail through pregnancy with no dry heaving while they dribble pee on their bathroom floor , or those that “don’t even look pregnant” until they are 8 months along , I just want to make it okay for those of us that feel and look like crap for 9 months to get some free reign to whine since we can’t drown our sorrows in real wine.

So if you are currently browsing cool online baby stores imagining  you with a radiant glow and a little belly, while you should be working - let me bring you back down to reality.

Here are some of the fun things from my two very different but both pretty unpleasant pregnancies- you’ll thank me later.

With my son I bled from implantation until 8 weeks, then again at 16 and 22 weeks. It was terrifying.  as it turned out it was just a sneaky yeast infection ( which many women are prone to in pregnancy ). Because it was tricky and simply staying around my cervix I never had the tell tale signs. 2 emergency room docs missed it, one resident actually looked at the nurse and said ” That’s the cervix right?” Dude I am a teacher and I could find my f’ing cervix.  Luckilly my regular doc figured it out and even better my insurance covered the trips to the ER.

With this little bean I am so naseasous I had to ask my mom to come and help.  That speaks volumes. I love my mom but loathe house guests, I need my space, I need my house and I even asked her to stay longer half way through. Even with meds I was simply un able to function.  I feel like I had the worst hangover and there was no frat party to “enjoy” the night before, or one before that… it’s just not letting up.

I am blessed my husband has no sense of smell.  See the hormones that are raging through my body right now are wreaking havoc on my digestion. It’s all but stopped and well you can imagine. It’s not pretty.

Many women complain about how often they have to pee, personally I am all for it. I get little slices of alone time 3 times an hour now. It’s awesome. Of course with my first pregnancy it was just annoying , now with a 3 year old I it’s like a mini trip to the spa.*

* Provided he stays playing and doesn’t decide that I need company , or worse a drum routine on the door while I pee.

Oh these are only the first few weeks worth of realities… sore backs, being stuck on the floor , leg cramps that wake you from a dead sleep, acne, Braxton Hicks, heartburn… well I’ll cover that on another day. Then after that it’s the coma of the first few weeks .

Here is the thing though- so many of us go through this, the majority of us don’t have those easy pregnancies, most of us have battle scars whether physical or emotional but the human race keeps procreating…

I was looking at my son yesterday while he ate mac and cheese out of the pot ( it was cool leftovers ) and I can’t imagine loving anyone as much as I love him. I can’t write in words the lengths I would go to for this child, but I also know that when all the gas, all the incontinence, all the vomiting is done I won’t have to section my heart for him and my new child, instead it will simply double in size.

So all this crap wouldn’t be worth going through for much but for  my capacity to love to be doubled - I’ll suck it up.

Bug,

Today you are 3. In the last year so much has changed, you have gone from a baby to a little boy and amazed your dad and I with your capacity to learn, your love of music, your liberal laughter and your sensitive and caring heart.

You have tested us with your tenacity, your desire to do it yourself, your inability to sleep through the night and your inexplicable desire to put your feet in the toilet.

You have been alive for 1095 days , it seems impossible it’s only been that long. I can’t remember what my life was like before you drove me crazy, or made me cry by saying ” Mama I love you most of all !”.  1089 days you have woken me up without an alarm clock, being the first thing I heard, thought of and saw each of those mornings , the other 6 you were my first thought even though I was far away.

I am so proud of the little man you are. The other day I took you to the “cupcake restaurant” ( local bakery)  to split a sandwich and side salad and you were so well behaved that an older lady sitting nearby stopped on her way out to tell me how fantastic you were. I blushed with pride, it wasn’t the first I have heard this from strangers but it made me proud to hear .

I want you to know I don’t care what you grow up to be, as long as you remember all the things I tell you every day.  Be kind , speak when you have something to say , listen when others are speaking, make your own choices and remember I love you most of all.

Happy Birthday Bug.

Morning sickness sucks.

It’s bad after I eat, it’s bad if I don’t eat and it’s bad those rare times I feel good and eat too much.

Oh and the computer screen totally makes it worse.

Great.

One more thing it must have been a man who coined the term ” Morning Sickness” - I would like to re name it ” If I am conscious sickness and sometimes even when I am sleeping sickness.”

I am happy I am pregnant, this bean was planned for , prayed for and there is nothing I adore more than being a mom.

So what’s your fool proof cure ?

Did you know you were going to talk about poop as much as you do before you became a parent?

Even having been a teacher and discussed poop with parents at pick up time many many times, I am still shocked by how often my husband and I find ourselves talking about it while eating dinner-  gross eh?

Our son is just about 3 and has been flirting with potty training for AGES.  At 18 months he would go potty for “Cheesus” which was his speak for Jesus. Now we are regular church goers but that was a little extreme! He started liking this little wood carving of Jesus my husband bought during a less than religious trip to Rio before we even met. For whatever reason my little man took to it and one exasperated day I said ” Want to show Jesus how you go potty?” and it worked.  Do what works!

So even though 18 months was way early for most to potty train, I was following his cues. His cues sadly went from peeing for Jesus to enjoying his soft cloth diapers for every peepee again. No biggie I expected this.

From 18 months to 2 years there was nada- we didn’t push but every so often we’d offer. He did wow and amaze people at Christmas after he turned 2 for a week , then my performing monkey stopped getting the hoots, hollers and adoration of family far away and my laundry load increased again.

In the summer he was showing promising signs - staying dry during naps, going naked without peeing up a storm… but we had a crazy travel schedule, if we didn’t have guests at home we were on the road.  But know what he was staying dry, and going potty ! He even went potty at an international border crossing - oh the pride! Mommy wasn’t ready to ditch the diapers yet though.

See both you and they need to be ready… how much do you love your carpet?

Then the biggest sign of all: DRY ALL NIGHT.

I knew I needed to get some gumption it was time to really get this boy into undies all the time and deal with the dribbles and accidents. He was ready.

And he was.

He is now the proud owner and wearer of many cute pairs of undies, and all his pants sag- his diaper was clearly keeping them up.

We have had our fair share of touching poop while it’s exiting the body ( we told him if he touched, he’s not be allowed to flush the toilet and voila poop touching stopped),  accidents , and still the phrase ” Are you pooping?” is said very very often. Usually followed by me scooping him up and getting him to the potty before anything makes it’s way out.

So whether you give your child M&Ms , stickers or high fives for going on the potty trust me when i say they will not go to college in pull ups. They may give you a few or many grey hairs while they get there … but really it’s about when THEY are ready.

Now if only you got an email notification when they were.

I remember telling a director of a production I was acting in in 1993 that I was going to lead an independent life. I was going to act preferably in New York, go to art galleries for fun, continue my love of all black clothing, raise a child alone and never marry. I was going to do it my way and not bow down to patriarcal society.*

Well fast forward 16 years and I am primarily a stay at home mom, I haven’t acted since 1997, I went through a series of serious boyfriends whom I daydreamed about marriage with, married in 2004 and have never been to New York.  I do have a child although I am by no means raising him alone, I do wear black a lot but it’s not the only color, and I do go to galleries.

So I am not the person that my drama geek , silver doc marten wearing 16 year old self thought I was going to be. I like to think I am so much more. Although this weekend if my 16 year old self could have gotten a sneak peak I think she would have choked on her thrift store necklace.

On Friday I cleaned my house for my parent’s arrival. Then I  got dolled up, high heels, dangly earings and full make up for the Seattle Police Awards Banquet. I was in full corporate wife mode, bidding on silent auction items, making small talk with my husband’s clients and eating with the proper spoons and forks.

On Saturday I spent all day getting my son in the Halloween spirit, we carved pumpkins, went to our town’s safe Halloween. I made dinner for my parents and my family with no need for recipes, it’s old hat now. I handed out candy and there wasn’t a single Halloween event that involved alcohol.

On Sunday I went to church, gathered the items I need to teach Sunday School next week, went to the library for books for my son , bought items for my son’s preschool fundraiser,  picked up a quiche for dinner and baked muffins.

Clearly my life is full, my heart is full even if my dreams shifted and I still haven’t been to NY- I have been to Africa and I’ll make it to NY some day!

* I only learned the meaning of that word the night before at a Take Back The Night March where I wore all black.

My son has been sick and I have really really relaxed my rules about TV. I am pretty adamant about watching with him so this week I have become very familiar with Dora, The Fresh Beat Band, Agent Oso ,  and The Berenstain Bears.

This is what I have discovered.

Dora- her mom is pretty cool, she is an archaeologist and gave birth to Dora’s twin siblings at home and looked great only minutes after birth! The giant chicken really really skeeves me out though, why is it so big?

The Fresh Beat Band - easily the most watchable show. Maybe just because it’s new and the music isn’t horrible. My son even on his most lethargic day would get up and play air guitar. Also there is one character ( argyle sweater, funky hat, aussie accent) that makes it worth it for moms to watch too. Thank you producers for that!

Agent Oso - seriously is learning to make a salad a “problem” worth a special agent?

Berenstain Bears - I want to move to Bear Country the way I wanted to move to Walnut Grove as a child and Stars Hollow as an adult . It just seems like life makes sense, is predictable but never boring. They don’t often change their clothes but maybe bears don’t have to. They live peacefully with animals I’d expect them to eat, but I am still not sure I’d be able to get over my fear of bears long enough for a visit.

I am  excited ecstatic that my son will be going back to preschool tomorrow, that he feels well enough to go out and that our tv can go back to it’s limited viewing.

I may have to put The Fresh Beat Band on during nap time though

Well that is easier said than done when your infected person is a toddler. Yes my son is sick, this doesn’t happen often around here. I am blessed with a healthy child, maybe the 2.5 years of nursing was key,maybe my usual close eye on nutrition or maybe I was simply blessed… either way we don’t get sick much. So when my little man started coughing in his sleep while we were all in ONE room at my parents house I was worried. Right before we got in the car to drive across the border back to our house I checked his temp 101.4… not good but no red flag yet. Motrin in, hyper boy out. We were hoping he’d sleep on the drive. Nope. We got to hear 3 hours of ” Honda! Lexus! Mazda! Chevy! Mommy come hold my hand, please! Volvo! Pontiac!”

He’s obsessed with identifying cars.

Our ears were assaulted for 3 hours. Neither of us minded too much, we were happy that he was feeling well and a little amazed by his car knowledge. He went to bed early but woke at 10 HOT, more motrin a few Youtube videos of garbage trucks and he was out again.

So Monday morning we skipped preschool, he got hotter and I called the doc.

He has the flu… THE flu. His temp was 103.4 when the Motrin wore off. Doc didn’t test because it’s the only thing going around here right now apparently. Nice.

So I went on the CDC site about H1N1 and read… and read… and laughed a little too.

This is clearly not written for parents of toddlers.

Keep the sick person in a room separate from the common areas of the house. (For example, a spare bedroom with its own bathroom, if that’s possible.) Keep the sickroom door closed.

I don’t know about you but I can not keep my almost 3 year old son in one place on the best days let alone when he is sick. When he is sick all he wants is me, if I am in the bathroom so is he, if I am in the kitchen so is he… I am his comfort, and I am not taking that from him.

Another fun piece of advice :

Avoid being face-to-face with the sick person.

Oh ok. I’ll do that. I have been more face to face, arms tighly wrapped around me , snot dripping on me in the last 24 hours than I have in the last 24 days. It’s just what happens when a little one is sick. Half of the reason he is already getting better is because he was happily sleeping (upright so he could breath well) ON me all night last night.

So CDC I will take your advice about covering coughs, washing hands, and disinfecting my house ( after your suggested house imprisonment period) , I am all out of cleaner. I will not take my child out to infect more people if anything just to save one mom from feeling like she isn’t doing the right thing by snuggling her sick child when she reads your advice. See us moms we will care for our babies however they needs us to care for them, even if it’s not up to CDC code.

ps in case you are wondering little man is standing on the couch in the next room taking full advantage of my lax policy on tv when we are stuck in the house. Proof that he is feeling better, he’s not face to face with me anymore.

I am thankful for my son’s health

I am thankful for my husband’s devotion

I am thankful for my sister’s friendship

I am thankful for my parents sacrifices.

I am thankful for true friendships, I know how blessed I am.

I am thankful for my family in Texas, their arms and hearts have always been open to me.

I am thankful that I was born in Canada, a prosperous , just nation.

I am thankful I am able to return home at will whether it be to see family, or just for a double double.

I am thankful my son is funny, we are together a lot, I can never have too much funny.

I am thankful that my husband provides a life that my wants are material things not needs.

I am thankful for a church that encourages me to discover my faith individually and not in a preprescribed way, a church that is open and loving to all, and that always makes me think and feel renewed.

I am thankful for all the strong older women I meet, they are all role models even if they don’t know it.

I am thankful to my readers, you have given me back my professional voice, opened doors for me and given me something besides my son to talk about at dinner parties.

I am thankful for Target.

I am thankful for my ability to work from home , even on days I feel extra crazy.

I am thankful for kindness of strangers - the little things do matter.

I am thankful for each day I have to soak up the lovely things I am surrounded by, they are numerous, and I don’t always pay close enough attention to them.

Happy Thanksgiving

It’s fall and I love it!

I have been asked to share this recipe and it’s easier to blog then to email

1 1/2 cups of flour

1 1/2 tsp of baking powder

1/4 tsp salt

3tbsp sugar

mix together.

3tbsp melted butter

3/4 cup of pumpkin puree

dash of vanilla extract

2 large eggs

a few big shakes of pumpkin pie spice

extra dash of sugar ( about a tablespoon)

Mix wet ingredients,  add to dry.

Add milk until the consistency of batter is how you like it normally. I find that it’s easier to do it that way when I add in purees, I just kept adding it little by little I am guessing I used 1 cup. You will want the pancakes to be pretty thin because the puree doesn’t fluff up, but thin pancakes will cook nicely.

Serve with real maple syrup.

In grade 9 my group of friends imploded. We’d been excited at our ability to take over student council ( our Jr was 7-9) and high on being the big women on campus. We all went to Lara’s house to get ready for the election , practiced our skits, added glitter to our campaign signs and everything was great for the first few hours.

Then something happened.

The stress of this all was too much for our pubescent bodies and immature psyches.

We cracked.

I am now 32 years old , this was more than half my life ago and I remember it so clearly and still get that pit of my stomach feeling when I think about it. Our circle of friendship shifted so effortlessly into going one by one and saying what we didn’t like about eachother, openly.

I am sure I am not the only one who still carries wounds. It was so honest , too honest and so incredibly hurtful.  That moment I decided to find new friends. It was hard these girls were popular, these girls were who I’d hung out with for years and at 14 you don’t just walk away from that. So I started dressing in black, listening to depressing music and focusing on drama, as in plays not teenage drama. I think  I managed to push them away, I got weird. They didn’t want weird.

It all worked out in the end, although I can still see Lara’s basement with it’s shag carpet when I feel stug by someone.  I am brought back to that instantly when I think girls, or women are focusing on the wrong things. When we go in with the best intentions of working together as a community and end up ripping each other apart.

I don’t think I need to get into the details of this past week - if you are on Twitter you likley saw what I did. And you saw it go very very wrong. Name calling, nasty comments, accusations of being uneducated, of being Nazi’s… the list is horrible and long. Also it came from both sides, so it doesn’t matter what you agree with the general public is left with the thought that mommy bloggers can’t disagree without disolving into my grade 9 sleepover of nastiness and immaturity.

I don’t expect us to all agree. Debate is awesome fuel for change and the world we live in needs a lot of change. I do expect us to keep it civil.  Openly state your opinion, link to info that supports your position, write respectful posts, openly state that you boycott a product- but when you go from that to name calling all I do it write you off as unprofessional and I know I am not alone.

I want what I do to be legitimate.

Just today at a charity event hosted by myself and another blogger she mentioned to me that the lack of legitimacy in what we do irks her.  Blogs are often brushed off as a hobby of lonely bored housewives looking for drama and even though that is simply not true after a week like this how do we prove that?

So we need to stand up from the shag carpet in Lara’s basement and say in our 32 year old voices something we couldn’t at 14, being mean is not ok. We aren’t a family no one expects us all to love each other, but we are a community and we do need to respect each other.