tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45062409613496979932024-03-13T20:08:38.590-06:00Apparently, I'm A ParentWhere are we going, and why are we in this handbasket?MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-62852415036151229492014-07-18T22:38:00.001-06:002014-07-19T08:53:39.085-06:00Diesel's DayOur Boxer, Diesel, is almost 12 years old. Which is pretty good for a Boxer, especially one that was diagnosed with a serious cardiac condition when he was 3 and a second one a few years later.<br />
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Diesel is my heart dog. He has been with me since he was 18 months old. It was just him and me then, and he's seen me through many changes. I went from being single, to married, to a mother. He's said goodbye to two doggie sisters and has been an outstanding foster brother to more than 25 dogs. I love this dog. I adore this dog.<br />
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But in the past little while, he's also been diagnosed with degenerative myelopathy. This is a total asshole conditon. Its similar to Multiple Sclerosis in humans. It's a nervous system conditon, basically the messages are no longer making it from his spinal cord to his hind legs. It starts with some toe dragging and knuckling under, and standing with legs crossed, but progressively gets worse and all strength and control is lost. As of now he's not able to walk more than a few steps and can barely stand up. He's beginning to drag his back end around. His urinary continence is weakening. He can't poop without falling into his mess. He's lost so much muscle tone and has gotten very skinny in the back end. My husband made him a wheelchair, and we have a special harness to help us carry him. But it's gotten to the point where we can't deny the inevitable anymore. It pains me to say it, but Diesel's time is almost over. At this point it's over as soon as the vet can fit us in. </div>
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But, on or before the day that will be Diesel's last, I am going to make sure he gets the following:</div>
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<li>Eggs.</li>
<li>A cheeseburger. </li>
<li>Pepperoni. </li>
<li>Sour Patch Kids. </li>
<li>Beer. </li>
<li>Attention, love, kisses, hugs from all four of us and his boxer sister and foster sister. </li>
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This situation is horrible for me. I am a wreck and I can't even breathe through my nose, I've been crying so much. I don't know how I'll live without this guy. I don't know how long it will take me to feel normal again after he goes to the Rainbow Bridge. I know all the stuff. I know it's inevitable, I know it's the kindest thing we can do for him, I know he has finished his work here, I know he's lost his dignity and we can't keep forcing him. I've comforted so many people in this situation before. But when it's your turn it's different. I am just gutted. And it's going to be a long, long time before I feel better. </div>
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But one thing that will never, ever change is that Diesel is my heart dog. He always will be. I will have a tattoo done of his nose on my arm, which is where it's been while we slept for many nights in the past ten years. </div>
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I'm so sorry this had to happen to you, Diesel. You are the best dog that ever lived. You deserved more. </div>
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MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-53273753293264559312014-02-23T14:29:00.000-07:002014-02-23T14:38:38.044-07:00Boy the Younger's Planes birthday partyWhat an exciting day we had! I'm not sure how Boy the Younger could possibly be four years old already, but somehow he is...and we celebrated it up, gymnastic-style. Because the kids would be flying around <a href="http://www.kyleshewfeltgymnastics.com/" target="_blank">Kyle Shewfelt's Gymnastics</a>, we thought a <a href="http://movies.disney.com/planes" target="_blank">Disney Planes</a> theme would be good.<br />
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So - here's the party!<br />
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When we got to the gym, the kids went in with their coach (who was excellent, thank you!) and the parents got to relax on the couches in the viewing lounge and enjoy watching the kids (and the WiFi). The kids rotated through a few stations and learned how to use the equipment properly, and then got to run wild for some free play time. This place is great, there are in-floor trampolines, a foam pit, lots of springboards and mini-trampolines and bouncers, rings, bars, ropes, you name it! The kids had a blast tiring themselves out!<br />
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After a little more than an hour of running and jumping around, it was time to move into the party room, where we had some lunch and desserts. I did try to have some healthy things to balance out the sugary treats, but all the kids magically saved room for the sweets.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What can I say, who doesn't like veggie straws?</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The cake - affectionately known as "Dusty Craphopper"</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">After refueling, it was time for all Boy's friends to give him their gifts (and help open them). Boy was able to remember to say thank you to each child and give a big hug to his friends.</span></div>
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And then Boy gave his friends their thank you gift, which was a Planes collector cup with a marshmallow Dusty pop, a spinny propeller thing, and a little fruit gummy treat. And a thank you card which he insisted on signing personally.</div>
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And so, now I have no more little babies left! This is the year they both will be school-aged kids, and although I'm a little sad to be finished with cuddly nursing babies, it's so nice to have my two big boys, who can do anything and live life with fun, passion, and huge smiles!</div>
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Happy Birthday!</div>
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But - I'm delighted to discover that it works the opposite way, too. And that there is an effect of magnitude and integrity. When the pathogen is particularly compelling, passionate, enthusiastic, or clearly truthful, the effects last way, way longer. </div>
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I had the pleasure of listening to a very inspiring speaker recently, and although I already felt quite passionate about my work, this person's passion really infected me, and I've been carrying it for a week now. </div>
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The lovely thing is it also makes me immune to the other type of communicable moods. People can't bring me down, no matter how hard they try!<br>
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<li>Parent who cut me off to drive the wrong way down the daycare parking lot...gee, I'm sorry you are in such a hurry. I hope you made it to work on time!</li>
<li>Seven cars that failed to stop when my kids and I were trying to cross the street to get to the bus stop...so sorry that your bosses must all be such jerks. It must suck to have to drive like that. </li>
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So given that I've noticed an awful lot of myself in my kids - this is my new mission - to make sure that I infect them with some Good Mood Poisioning early in their day, every day.</div>
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MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-44887106815778075942014-01-09T11:03:00.002-07:002014-01-09T11:20:43.423-07:00Boy The Elder's Star Wars Birthday PartyWell, it isn't six months late yet! Better late than never, right?<br />
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This is the Star Wars themed 5th birthday party we had for Boy the Elder this summer. We just booked a multipurpose room at our local community centre and did it all ourselves. Luckily there was lots of themed decorations available that fit just perfectly. But the food, some of the favours, and the games and entertainment were all done by us.<br />
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This sign was at the top of the stairs, leading down to the party space:<br />
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Each Padawan was given a Jedi robe (made with <a href="http://intentionallykatie.blogspot.ca/2012/06/how-to-make-no-sew-jedi-robe.html" target="_blank">Intentionally Katie's no-sew pattern</a>) to wear for the party and they chose a pool noodle light saber - very telling who chose light side and who chose dark side colours...<br />
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The party food was all set up after the Padawans played light saber balloon games for a while...which quickly devolved into beating each other with their sabers.</div>
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Eating time! And there was WAY too much food, we were eating leftover Hutt Dogs and Han Burgers for days after...<br />
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We played a few games - Light Saber Training (keeping balloons in the air with the noodle sabers)<br />
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Star Wars Bingo (got <a href="https://www.etsy.com/ca/transaction/141601315?ref=fb2_tnx_title" target="_blank">these</a> cards from Etsy seller TrulyBillEve). It was totally more fun than it looks.<br />
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Use The Force (disc tossing game)<br />
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And the goody "bags"- a collector cup with a Han Solo Rolo (Han Solo in carbonite caramel filled chocolate, using <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Kotobukiya-Star-Wars-Solo-Silicone/dp/B004R7S9I2" target="_blank">this</a> mold) and a Millennium Falc-Oreo (Oreo cookie inside a molded chocolate Millennium Falcon, using <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Kotobukiya-Star-Millennium-Falcon-Silicone/dp/B006OIMS2K/ref=sr_1_11?s=toys-and-games&ie=UTF8&qid=1389291613&sr=1-11&keywords=millenium+falcon" target="_blank">this</a> mold).</div>
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And that was it! We had a really fun time, and it was the party I've personally dreamed about for around 18 years or so...<br />
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May the Force Be With You!<br />
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<br />MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-74780249462375334692014-01-08T14:56:00.003-07:002014-01-08T14:56:50.042-07:00Kind of an AskholeIt seems like my Boy The Younger's <a href="http://apparentlyimaparent.blogspot.ca/2013/08/chronic-whyarrhea.html" target="_blank">Whyarrhea</a> hasn't improved, in fact maybe it's gotten a wee bit worse. That boy can grill me like a cheese sandwich. He is SO going to follow in my footsteps and end up working in something research-related. There's no way he'll be as good at anything else as he is at asking questions.<br />
<br />
Of course, as he gets closer to 4 years old, his questions have really branched out and now include all five W's and a lot of H's.<br />
<br />
In the past few days I've had to explain the following, at least sixty times each:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>What his choices for breakfast are, and in corollary, what they are not.</li>
<li>Where he can put his dirty laundry, which has never changed since it became his job to look after his own dirty laundry.</li>
<li>When we are going to go on an airplane next.</li>
<li>How much longer until he gets to start Kindergarten.</li>
<li>Why Mommy decided to get a different job (ok, maybe he hasn't actually asked about this, but I wanna tell them all about it!).</li>
<li>Who <a href="https://twitter.com/nenshi" target="_blank">Mayor Nenshi</a> is.</li>
</ol>
<br />
<br />
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It is exhausting being this boy's mother. And of course, it's been the holidays, so he's been home from daycare for 2 weeks, which gave him extra time to think about all his questions (thankfully I have not been home much, it's been Daddy's turn!).</div>
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After one particular long session, he even made a shocking self-observation: "Mommy, I ask a lot of questions." Without really thinking about it, I said "Yes, you kind of are an askhole."</div>
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I'm glad that in addition to my curiosity, he also has my sense of humour and, like me, enjoys a good curse word now and then.</div>
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<br />MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-62840419008804742832013-12-10T10:41:00.004-07:002013-12-10T10:41:55.059-07:00Hamster WheelIs it about time for my annual apology for being distracted post? I think so...<br />
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Life has been busy lately. Between family, work, classes, extracurriculars, and home renovations, there hasn't been a whole lot of time left for blogging. So sorry!!<br />
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We are all happy, healthy, and learning and growing. Busy...too busy, but that's how we learn limits, I guess. The new year is definitely going to bring some changes for us, and a realignment and reprioritization.<br />
<br />
Boy the Elder has been loving Kindergarten, and just got an outstanding report card. He is exceeding expectations across the board, even in the areas that I was concerned about. He's making friends, and really starting to come out of his shy phase too. He's been taking kung fu and I think it's really helping his confidence. It's amazing to watch him grow. Even when he shows me a glimpse of the sullen teenager he'll be in a few more years, like this morning, when it was simply tragic that his skinny jeans weren't skinny enough.<br />
<br />
Boy the Younger is a big shot in his preschool room at daycare now. He's up to seven girlfriends (I'm a little hurt that I'm number 7 - shouldn't I be number 1?), well on his way to the goal he's of of 16 girlfriends. He's been taking a hip hop dance class, and he is always practicing. He seems to have perfect pitch too when he sings. Also he is an amazing swimmer - he was almost skipped ahead an entire level because he's such a little fish. Still sweet and loving and sensitive, and I know it won't last much longer now that he's 3 (and 3/4!) but I'll love it as long as it lasts.<br />
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Darling Husband and I are busy, and tired, and very much looking forward to going on our next vacation. It is still a while away, but by the time it comes we're going to really deserve it!<br />
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I am loving the class I'm taking, even if it's a bigger time committment than I thought it would be.<br />
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We're working on getting our house ready to sell. We are planning to downgrade our house a little - since we always have a few projects going anyway, we figured it would be better to have a smaller mortgage. We like updating and upgrading things, so if we buy something a little uglier/older/shabbier and fix it to our specs, we will end up ahead of where we are now. The trick is now figuring out how in the world we'll get everything done and start showing our house to buyers on the timeline we mapped out?? No idea yet how that will work.<br />
<br />
Anyway, sorry sorry sorry for neglecting Apparently I'm A Parent. It's still a very important thing for me, it's just that I am a wee bit overprogrammed at the moment.MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-74368835610935853592013-08-02T10:24:00.002-06:002013-08-02T10:27:55.996-06:00Chronic WhyarrheaIn yet another way, I have discovered that one of my kids is almost an exact replica of me. You know those little kids who ask "why" about everything, constantly, day in and day out? I was one of those kids. So, apparently, is Boy the Younger.<br />
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<br />
We go to a daycare centre, and there was a little bat that was sleeping above the front door for a while a few weeks ago. Every day this was a huge source of questions.<br />
<br />
"Why is Butterscotch (we named her Butterscotch) sitting up on the wall?"<br />
"Why is she sleeping? It's morning time!"<br />
"Why are some animals nocturnal?"<br />
"Why is she upside down?"<br />
"Why does she come to the same place every day?"<br />
<br />
And now that she's stopped coming there:<br />
<br />
"Why isn't she here anymore?"<br />
"Why didn't she say goodbye?"<br />
"Why can't we go find her batcave?"<br />
"Why. Why. WHY WHY WHY?"<br />
<br />
Now due in no small part to my own childhood chronic whyarrhea, I'm a fairly decent repository of useless trivia, so I am able to answer a lot of these questions...but even I'm running dry on some of these. And a half assed answer like "Just because" is absolutely not acceptable. He will tilt his head, raise an eyebrow, and say "That's not a real answer, Mommy." So I need to pull out my secret weapon. Google.<br />
<br />
Seriously. I have no idea how my parents survived my own curious childhood without Google. Or duct tape. Best.Parenting.Tool.Ever. Only I am truly afraid of my browser history or what we are singlehandedly doing to search engine statistics. There is some crazy crap that we look up.<br />
<br />
We had a chat the other day about why he asks why so much. I told him he has whyarrhea, and I laughed, and then told him that's funny because it rhymes with diarrhea. His response?<br />
<br />
"Why do people get diarrhea?"<br />
<br />
Sigh. Let's Google that. </div>
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MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-27723251972803374132013-07-17T08:54:00.002-06:002013-07-17T08:55:42.532-06:00Sarcasm - My Second Favorite -asm"Momy, Momy, look, a smart car!!" "Hey, a convertible!!" "I see a little dog!!" "A double dump truck!!"<br />
<br />
This is the soundtrack to my daily commute. Every day. Doesn't matter if we're already in the middle of another conversation, doesn't matter if I'm belting out a Journey tune, doesn't matter if I have not had a drop of coffee yet and just need a little peace and quiet, thankyouverymuch.<br />
<br />
So I have resorted to the lowest form. The Sarcasm. I figure that Boy the Elder and Boy the Younger are going to need to figure out sarcasm sooner or later, with the family they landed in. No Sheldon Coopering allowed here. Might as well be sooner.<br />
<br />
So when I'm presented with one of these excited announcements of the perfectly mundane, lately I've been tending to respond with a smartass-ish comment like: "Is it on fire?", "Is it flying?", "Is it doing something different than every other ______ that we've seen every day for the past few years and therefore actually worthy of some sort of mention today?" "No? Ok then. Let me know when it is."<br />
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A little jerkface? Maybe. But we are having massive interrupting problems right now, and I feel like I really need to kill this little monster before it becomes a big monster - and I see this as a very big opportunity to work on the interrupting.<br />
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As usual, my kids are surprising me with their brains. The first time I made a comment like this, I wasn't sure if they'd get it, wasn't sure if maybe I was pushing it a little, wasn't sure if it really was age-appropriate. No fear. They get it.<br />
<br />
Last weekend, I took them to the beach and I saw someone riding a stand up paddleboard (which I'm really interested in trying) and I pointed it out to them. "Look, boys, check out that paddleboard!"<br />
<br />
Boy the Elder replied, "Is it on fire?"<br />
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Sarcastic little jerkface.MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-44010989426882602892013-07-02T12:07:00.002-06:002013-07-17T08:56:34.118-06:00I Don't Speak WhineseI don't often recommend it, but having two children in 18 months does have certain benefits. One key benefit was spending about a year or two so ridiculously busy and sleep deprived that I was just completely oblivious to a lot of things.<br />
<br />
Like Whinese. I do not remember this phenomenon in Boy the Elder. Possibly I was too distracted with the baby, possibly I was too comatose as a general rule to notice, possibly he just never did it as badly as Boy the Younger. That three year old can whine like a vinyard. Even if all he's doing is trying to tell me something, even if it's something nice, lately he seems to be only able to speak Whinese. In the dialect of Pest Naggian. It is utterly exhausting. And I'm powerless to combat it. I try to ignore it. He gets louder. I tell him I can't speak Whinese and he should try again in his big boy voice. He looks at me like I'm some kind of idiot.<br />
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We just got back from a family vacation - a road trip - about 8 hours each way. The boys really surprised us and handled it well, but they were just...highly needy. We were together for five solid days, but somehow they seemed starved for attention. We were smart enough to stock up on movies for the in-vehicle entertainment system, but still, toward the end of it, at times I had to mentally struggle between keeping it rubber side down and between the lines and driving off a cliff.<br />
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And then the time zone change. We are all messed up. I couldn't go to bed, and the boys couldn't wake up. Well, except for Boy the Younger's 4 am wakeup, when he cried and whimpered "I just need to tell you something." "Ok, what is it?" "I <i>love</i> you. All."<br />
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I guess maybe it wouldn't hurt to pick up a few things in Whinese.MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-43467017702393717042013-06-07T10:10:00.000-06:002013-06-07T10:10:00.135-06:00I Suck At BluffingI like to think I'm this strategic thinker. I've built a career around being logical, analytic, and measured. But when it comes to my personal life, relating to my family, it's like I'm a total dummy. I have no poker face. I cannot bluff. Any attempts to bluff are royally screwed up and backfire on me.<br />
<br />
Here's a little gem that happened to us this week. We're on a bike ride/dog walk and the boys asked if we could take a different route home for a change. So being the flexible, fair, friendly mom that I am, I said "Sure thing, why not...except this is a busier road so I don't want you guys zooming ahead on your bikes like we do on the cul de sac. We have to stay all together, do you still want to go home that way?" They both agreed, "Yes Mom, we can do that."<br />
<br />
A whopping two seconds later B1 was zooming off way ahead of us, so I called him back and reminded him of our deal. He lost it. Cried, yelled, said he was going back and going home the other way. I reminded him that there were two other people and two dogs and we had all agreed to go this way today and that we would all stay together. I said that if he couldn't ride nicely with us, then I guessed he couldn't ride his bike and would have to walk home while I carried it (because doesn't THAT sound like fun?). He didn't cooperate, so I picked up the bike and asked him to follow us.<br />
<br />
I guess he had been saving some reserves because now he REALLY lost it. Screaming, crying, acting like I was skinning him alive (I may have wanted to a little, but gosh I'd never do it on a public street). And planting himself firmly in one spot and refusing to walk home.<br />
<br />
Now...I have problems with conflict. I have problems when people don't take my advice. I know lots of ways to influence people and to manipulate behaviour, but it's so different when you're dealing with people acting rationally. When my adversary just goes bat crap crazy like that, and I'm in the heat of the moment, looking like a fool in public, and there's a clear standoff, I just have no idea what to do and typically end up saying something really stupid.<br />
<br />
I told him that if he didn't come home with us now that he would be losing his Lego privileges for a week. Huh??? Ok, how does Lego even relate to the battle at hand? Who was talking about Lego? And, a whole WEEK? Um, isn't that a little much? Not to mention - Lego is a most excellent Shut Up Toy. Taking it away for a week really only punishes me.<br />
<br />
See what I mean? Dummy. Obviously I was hoping he would agree that was a stupid consequence and way too extreme and not worth it, and he'd decide to go along with me. Clearly my not-yet-five-year-old will outperform me in Vegas, because he decided to call my bluff. He's still not coming home with us.<br />
<br />
Shit. What do I do now? Ok, a week of losing his prized possession wasn't motivating enough, how about we double that - TWO weeks of no Lego! WHAT? What am I saying? This is taking stupid to a whole new level! It doesn't make sense! It's way too harsh! But - I'm committed now. I can't take it back. I have to follow through on this stupid, unrelated, excessive consequence. Lego gone for two stinking weeks. And he's STILL not coming.<br />
<br />
I must have been more convincing after that - only had to ask if he wanted to make it three weeks while starting to walk away (let's not consider that it was actually the walking away that did the trick, I'm already feeling foolish enough, but suffice it to say I'll probably be trying that first next time).<br />
<br />
So we made it home. And I dutifully put away the Lego per the terms of his sentence. I'm not really sure how <i>I'm</i> going to survive two weeks of not having Lego available to bring down the volume level around here. I'm going to need to devise some sort of parole plan to knock down the sentence for good behaviour or something.<br />
<br />
Obviously I need a trip to Vegas. A lesson in poker strategy, focusing heavily on bluffing, is clearly in order for me.<br />
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MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-30529320273499382002013-06-04T12:15:00.000-06:002013-06-07T13:08:02.801-06:00Chilling The Cookie DoughWhen I was younger, I knew everything about everything.<br />
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I could tell when people were lying to me, trying to take advantage of me, really caring for me. I knew how everything worked. I could read between all the lines, any lines, and perfectly understand, judge, and solve everyone's problems about everything. I knew what was right, what was wrong, and what was stupid.<br />
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Only...I didn't.<br />
<br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Rushing and overconfidence is the folly of youth - at least, it was for me. Jumping to conclusions, making assumptions, looking at every situation through my own personal lens (which may or may not have been cracked or cloudy). </span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
The gift of time and age is mine now and with it has come the ability to see beyond the end of my own nose. I've learned that people have a lot of reasons for doing things. That we all come from a different place and have a different life experience path than each other. That a quick scan is not the same as a deep and careful analysis. That many things make a different kind of sense, if you listen. If you pay attention. If you pause before forming your opinion. If you look at things and can see shades of grey instead of just black and white.<br />
<br />
It's like chilling the cookie dough before you bake it. Same ingredients. Same process to make the dough. Only the application of a little bit of time and temperature that doesn't visibly change anything. Not to mention makes me wait longer to start eating cookies. BUT that little bit of time has a profound effect on my favorite cookie recipe! They are thicker, chewier, and even more awesome.<br />
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I think I've become that kind of cookie.<br />
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MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-58773918014484644112013-03-19T09:20:00.001-06:002013-03-19T09:20:32.514-06:00Just For TodayJust for today, I'm going to be a better person.<br />
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Just for today, I'm going to forgive the people that couldn't be patient for me. Clearly they had a reason.<br />
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Just for today, I'm going to remember that there's always a reason for why people do what they do.<br />
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Just for today, I'm going to smile when I want to frown.<br />
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Just for today, I'm going to let people go before me. I need to work on my patience.<br />
<br />
Just for today, I'm going to look for the joy in things people do that might annoy me.<br />
<br />
Just for today, I'm going to enjoy taking some time for me instead of feeling guilty about it.<br />
<br />
Just for today, I'm going to avoid saying anything mean or negative.<br />
<br />
Just for today, I'm going to try a new way of getting the outcome that I want.<br />
<br />
Just for today, I'm going to demonstrate what I think is the right choice and hope to be observed.<br />
<br />
Just for today, I'm going to remember that everyone has a story, and some are much sadder than mine.<br />
<br />
Just for today, I'm going to trust that everything will be ok.<br />
<br />
Just for today, I'm going to be a better person.<br />
<br />
And then maybe for tomorrow, too.MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-19159301554577736592013-03-07T10:46:00.003-07:002013-03-07T10:46:46.705-07:00An Open Letter To Daycare Parents At Dropoff and PickupI know. Daycare dropoffs and pickups kind of suck. They're noisy, crowded, rushed, and always seem to take eleventy times as long as they ought to.<br />
<br />
But pulease...they would go so much more smoothly if we could all just agree to the following rules:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>Park your vehicle somewhat better than if it was being parked by a drunken, blind monkey. Only one spot, and actually in it.</li>
<li>While close parking is in short supply, try not to double park, box others in, or simply create a spot in some random place in the lot. Just circle the lot or park further away that day. It's not really the end of the world.</li>
<li>Don't toss your sloppy shoes or boots on top of someone else's. Or inside them.</li>
<li>While we're on that topic, how's about you actually read the signs posted everywhere about removing dirty shoes and remove yours?</li>
<li>If another parent is talking to the teacher, or an admin, model good, patient behaviour for your child and please wait your turn.</li>
<li>Do your best to herd your turtles, or cheetahs, or drunken, blind monkeys carefully. Especially around the poor parents struggling with bucket car seats, 400 backpacks, blankets, and puffy snowsuited short people. They can't always see your kids from under the mountain they are carrying.</li>
<li>In the parking lot, hold their hands. Do not assume we can all see your kids. We're all a little self absorbed, late, and probably trying to tune out crying or tantruming for a granola bar.</li>
<li>If you have only one child, or older children, consider that perhaps someone else might appreciate rock star parking a little bit more. Let the parents of infants, multiples, etc. take the closer spots since it likely will be way easier for you to walk for two extra minutes.</li>
<li>Holding doors for the other moms and dads is a very nice thing to do in general. But please don't hold open the doors for kids unless you can see their family is all coming. Some of us are unable to grasp the concept of staying with a group and insist on forging ahead.</li>
<li>If someone chooses to use the elevator instead of the stairs, please spare them your judgement. Possibly they have an invisible injury, they have already been up and down several times, or they promised an elevator ride as a bribe to someone. Whatever their reason, it isn't your business. There is an elevator, it's there to be used.</li>
</ol>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-46549877349151241052013-03-06T11:21:00.003-07:002013-03-06T11:21:38.006-07:00The Mommy HaloI recently read this <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2011/09/06/living/teachers-want-to-tell-parents/index.html" target="_blank">article</a> and it caused me to do some thinking.<br />
<br />
I adore my kids. I'm in awe of them most days - their intellectual and emotional intelligence, their humour, even their rebellion (sometimes). But I am under no delusion that they are angels. Sometimes, sure, but always? Definitely not.<br />
<br />
So to consider storming into schools and teams and employers, ready to throw down and defend them at all costs, negotiate better grades, force teachers into allowing abysmal behaviour from them is just not a possibility for me. I just could not do that. I would not.<br />
<br />
Here's an example. B1 is 4 and a half years old. He goes full time to a large daycare centre. Sometimes he comes home and tells me that some kid or another hit him, or pushed him, or kicked him, or whatever. I was hearing this a lot for a few weeks, and I finally asked him what he was doing right before this happened. Turns out my little angel had more than a little demon in him. "Well, I was bugging him about his pink snow pants, then he pushed me," or "I was just practicing my kung fu moves, and then he hit me," or "Me and S told her she couldn't play with us, and she came and bit us." Uhhhh huh. Well, that is a very different story, my friend. And it's a story for which I have exactly ZERO sympathy. If you want to act like a jerk, don't come to me looking for an attorney.<br />
<br />
If my kids are ever legitimately being bullied by someone, damn straight I will come and work to fix that. But in those kids-will-be-kids situations where they are dishing it out as much as they're taking it, I will only coach them that they need to look at their own behaviour before they can complain about someone else's.<br />
<br />
And that's why I rarely take what my kids report at face value. I have asked before about certain conflicts, but I trust that the teachers/ECEs/caregivers know way more about it than I do, since they're, you know, THERE.<br />
<br />
To the parents out there who defend first and ask questions later, or never, shame on you! You are not helping your children grow into well adjusted humans who make smart choices at all. You're just making things easy for them and teaching them they don't have to try.MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-21248997271817324722013-01-28T14:53:00.002-07:002013-01-28T14:53:21.959-07:00Naughty Mama BloggerI realize it's been a while. Not because I didn't want to - in fact I've started at least three posts in the past few weeks and have ultimately given up on working them into something anyone would want to read.<br />
<br />
I've been going through a bit of a sad space lately. I'm having a difficult time adjusting to my new job and workplace (which aren't so new anymore, but still) and feeling ineffective in many parts of my life. I was feeling like I was too angry, too negative, not good enough, but dissatisfied and not doing enough to change that. I was feeling like a victim and not in control of my life.<br />
<br />
Not much has materially changed, but I'm delighted to say I feel better lately. Particularly this week.<br />
<br />
I've said for ages that I wanted to go back to school. And that I want to be a healer. But there have been barriers - mortgage, kids, bills, time, not being sure what I wanted to do. I took my first steps on this path last weekend and became a First Degree Reiki healer. And I love it! I've given Reiki treatments to my husband and both boys, and myself, and I'm planning to offer it to my dogs next. Am I quitting my job - no - not yet - but I am looking forward to earning my Second Degree, and I believe I've found another program that I want to take. This has filled me with hope that I will achieve my dream of helping people to feel better and find wellness, and leave the world a better place than I found it.<br />
<br />
I've felt guided to this path but was very unsure. I feel more sure than I ever have and I think that means the time is right. The program I want to take is going to take me about two years to complete, but on a part time and self study basis, and I will be able to begin working in the field halfway through.<br />
<br />
I can't describe how excited I am about this. I just got off the phone with the school and I could start this program as early as three weeks from now (although I'm not sure I can make that happen from a financial perspective). But certainly in September otherwise. Which would mean September is going to be HUGE for our family! Large Man Cub will start Kindergarten, Small Man Cub will start Preschool, and I will go back to school after a dozen years!<br />
<br />
I have felt really good about where I am in my personal and family life, but my professional life has been incomplete for a while. I feel so hopeful about the future!<br />
<br />
Now I just need to find thousands of dollars. Eep.MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-10224031805339732532013-01-08T09:32:00.003-07:002013-01-08T09:32:58.619-07:002012 In ReviewThese are 5 things I discovered this year:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>B1 has my heart. He is sentimental and loving. When we redecorated his room, he was honestly sad because he would miss his old room. He looks at our old dog and says "I'm going to miss him so much when dies." This is most certainly, without question, my heart in this child.</li>
<br />B2 is also a mini me in many ways. We both take off our socks as soon as possible upon getting home. We could both gladly eat chicken strips, cheese, and chocolate shortbread every day. He makes the same funny facial expressions when he talks that I do (which is why I hate FaceTime).<br /><br />
<li>B2 is smarter than I ever imagined. We always knew B1 was pretty darn clever. But B2 has managed several skills earlier and easier than his brother did. I worked hard to teach B1 his ABCs and how to count, I barely spent any time with B2, and he is amazing at it. He can remember words to songs on the radio after hearing it just a few times. He potty trained himself six months younger than his brother was when he nailed it. He can already dress and undress himself and B1 couldn't at this age. B2 constantly impresses and amazes me.</li>
<br />
<li>My husband does notice my efforts. On very busy weeks, it's easy to slip into a "poor me" mentality, and feel like I do everything, plan everything, decide everything for our family and get very little for myself in return. He is sending me away on a little Mommy break so I can relax and just press pause for a few days. He reminds me very often that I made the right choice in partners for this life.</li>
<br />
<li>It's ok if I don't manage to do everything I see on <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a>. I don't have to be a star at my job, expert chef, baker, cake decorator, seamstress, cleaner, crafter, student, entrepreneur, interior designer, fashionista, makeup artist, hairstylist, entertainer, time manager, creative surprise imagineer, writer, artist, or anything else. There isn't enough bandwidth in anyone's life to excel at all those things, all at once. There just isn't. And it's unfair and unrealistic to expect someone to.</li>
<br />
<li>Getting older isn't so bad. I had a minor freakout when I realized I'm now closer to 40 than 30. And when we went to see <a href="http://www.thisis40movie.com/" target="_blank">This Is 40</a> and I so completely, utterly related to it. And as my youngest child weaned himself off breastfeeding, we sold or donated all our baby things, we started to plan a kid-free vacation, and I got ready to register my oldest child for kindergarten and my youngest for preschool, there were a lot of "OMG my family is really growing up." moments and it was scary and depressing sometimes. It took a pregnancy scare to make me realize that I'm ok with where our life is taking us and I don't need to go back to the baby days. This is a really fun and very awesome time for us. And it's going to get only more fun and interesting as we all grow up more.</li>
</ol>
MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-10165110850217418942012-12-15T20:58:00.001-07:002012-12-16T09:24:42.177-07:00My Gift To MyselfI've spent a lot of time, energy, and money this year making Christmas special for my family and friends. And I love it. I may not do as much as some people do - I will NOT be joining the Elf on a Shelf bandwagon, I've barely baked a thing so far (one batch of cookies that kinda sucked), and we gave up trying to do a Christmas card this year - but I'm generally ok with what I've managed, especially since it's my first Christmas as a working mom. I don't want to run myself ragged and end up stressed, bitter, and snarly. I love the holidays and I want to enjoy them too. I was feeling some stress, some competition, some inadequacy. Getting to the brink of resentment and being overwhelmed. Getting annoyed with people and the things they do and say.<br />
<br />
And then the terrible, terrible events that went down in Connecticut this December 14th reminded me how much I need to enjoy every moment. I will hope that we never have to live through a horrific experience like that, but reality is, it does happen to some people. Good people. Innocent people. You never know when it might happen, or if it will happen, but fate and karma and the Rest of the World sometimes make choices for us. I've made a point of never looking at my life with regret. If we were involved in a trauma like that (knock on wood), I think that I could end up regretting some things.<br />
<br />
And so I have committed to myself that I'm done with worrying about stuff that doesn't matter. Done with getting angry about silly, trivial things. Done with trying to control dumb crap that nobody else cares about. <br />
<br />
If some asshat with a big truck cuts me off, oh well, I'll still get where I'm going. If some silly know it all shoots her mouth off and says stupid things, that's nothing to get aggravated over. If my boys choose obnoxious or stupid or irritating behaviours, I will do better to just love them anyway and gently show them an alternative. <br />
<br />
I've spent 36 years getting annoyed with people and rolling my eyes and feeling frustrated and impatient and excluded. I think I can finally say I've learned that this has been a waste and I just don't want to do it anymore. <br />
<br />
I sincerely hope this new me will turn out to be a gift to everyone as well as myself. MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-13272235627924994872012-12-15T20:19:00.001-07:002012-12-15T20:19:45.414-07:00No, I Am Your FatherFunniest effing dog destruction ever to date. It's even the right hand. <br />
<br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-FwskEIB2NKk/UM090FLq-CI/AAAAAAAAAHA/BIMy1oaXIJc/s640/blogger-image-1249562295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-FwskEIB2NKk/UM090FLq-CI/AAAAAAAAAHA/BIMy1oaXIJc/s640/blogger-image-1249562295.jpg" /></a></div>MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-61790790912228261052012-12-03T12:54:00.000-07:002012-12-13T10:58:51.812-07:00Be Right Back, I'm Just Around The BendTwas a few weeks before Christmas, and at the home of the Browns,<br />
I was the only grownup for days, the husband was out of town.<br />
As you would no doubt expect, quicker than quick<br />
Both my children soon became rather sick.<br />
Just the sniffles, I hope, they can still go to school<br />
Having that hope broke every rule.<br />
Monday morning came, and at the break of dawn<br />
The quiet was shattered, the tears were full on.<br />
For a minute I thought, I could just give them meds<br />
They'll be fine until naptime, then sleep in their beds.<br />
I could still go to work, I could still get the break<br />
This weekend, though just two days, felt long as a snake.<br />
But no, I can't do that, I have to stay home<br />
Take care of my darlings, wish I was alone<br />
On the beach, like my husband, did I mention his trip?<br />
He went to Cabo, laid in the sun, took a dip.<br />
While I had the joy of my two marvelous sons<br />
Plenty of snow, holiday prep work, not very much sun.<br />
"That's not fair" you might say. "How could he go?"<br />
He deserved a break, it's my turn soon, this I know.<br />
I don't begrudge him the trip, he works hard<br />
He's a good husband, great father, takes care of the yard.<br />
But if he tells me again soon he's trading sandals for socks<br />
He'll find when he gets home that I've changed the locks.MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-4532274366965554032012-11-29T14:02:00.003-07:002012-11-29T14:04:20.832-07:00got milk? Not AnymoreI'm free! (We're talking marginally...I will never be fully free again...)<br />
<br />
Today is the first day of my husband's unplanned trip to Cabo. Great opportunity, the trip was practically free, and I couldn't say no (well, I could have, but that would have made me a bitch). So he's gone for a few days, but it's all right. The boys and I will have lots of fun on our own and truly they are way less troubling to handle 2 on 1 than they used to be.<br />
<br />
But I'm going to say it. It's my turn when you get back, Honey. I am getting out of dodge for a few days, without you, without any little boys, without any remorse. I'm out.<br />
<br />
I am so in need of a break it's not even funny. I've gotten much more relaxed about having babysitters come stay with them, the only reason I don't have a sitter more often is the cost. But I have not slept a single night away from my boys in a very long time. Husband took B1 to Winnipeg for a few nights when I was expecting B2, so I guess that was kind of like being alone...but not really, since I had my gymnast/water polo/wrestling fetus kicking the crap out of me from the inside out. But now - I can finally do it! After <u>thirty<b>-</b>three</u> looooonnnnnggggg months, B2 has finally weaned himself. I think, anyway. He hasn't asked in a week, and he was only asking every other day or so for a couple of weeks before that. So for the first time in about five years, I am finally not pregnant, nursing, or both. It's fantastic!<br />
<br />
I never set out to have a nursling for so long. When B1 was born, I had no preconceptions about how long I would nurse him, or if I'd even be able to, only that I'd try. And it was awful. I was so very close to giving up, that first month. I didn't do it often enough, never had enough for him and constantly had to be pumping, topping him up with bottles, and fretting about his weight. He never really loved it that much and gave it up when I was a few months pregnant again. And then B2 came along and was completely different. From his first latch, he knew what he liked, and it was me. That boy would never even try a bottle. Or a soother. Or allow anything else to comfort him. Then at almost 3 years old, he finally decided on his own that it was time to be a big boy.<br />
<br />
A lot of people told me, thought, or probably said behind my back that I should cut him off, long ago. And sure, I could have. But I'm very happy that it happened the way it did. No tears, no fighting, no conflict. Just a peaceful "No thank you, I don't want any Mama Milk today" and off to dreamland. It wasn't always easy, and the toughest part was needing to be here to put him to bed every night for about a thousand days. But I also knew that it would be a relatively short time in his life and mine and I was more than willing to give him that time.<br />
<br />
But now it's over. I'd be lying if I said I won't expect pangs of missing the cuddle time and special closeness that only I was able to have with him for so long. Or if I said it doesn't make me feel a little blue that I will probably never nurse a baby again. But in between those wistful thoughts, I'll be skipping my way to the spa for a well-deserved little Mommy break in the New Year.MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-54277913644171840572012-11-21T14:24:00.002-07:002012-11-21T14:24:44.144-07:00Leader of the PackLast week I was lucky enough to manage to get a ticket to see <a href="http://cesarmillanlive.com/" target="_blank">Cesar Millan</a> live. I have often watched The Dog Whisperer and been amazed by what he can do with a "problem" dog, but I am always skeptical about reality TV and usually scoff and say there must be so much that happens that we don't see. So I was a fan, but not A Fan. Turned out the rescue group I volunteer with had an extra ticket, so I snapped it up and joined the pack. And am I ever glad.<br />
<br />
Cesar taught this old dog a lesson.<br />
<br />
He had several real dogs and their parents come on stage and exhibited their issues - and then Cesar did a quick diagnosis and showed another way. We could literally see these dogs change their behaviour before our eyes. It was great because one of the dogs he used had almost the exact issue as one of my own dogs (leash pulling) and she was even the same breed.<br />
<br />
The biggest takeaway for me, however, was how MY own attitude and behaviour affects others. We had extremely good seats, and I swear that being that close to him allowed me to actually feel his calm energy. It is clear that the dogs feel it too, but for me it was quite profound. My life is the furthest thing from calm - with two preschoolers, a husband, two dogs, a full time job, a hobby business, and also trying to maintain some semblance of physical health, oh and possibly a thread of a social life - there are not a lot of opportunities for calmness. However, if I let myself become stressed and upset and screechy, that clearly affects my children - the ones with and without fur. I've been making a concerted effort to stay chill since the show and I have absolutely noticed a difference in my family. There has been more cooperation, less arguing, and if things do start to get out of hand, getting back to calmness is easier.<br />
<br />
But it's a constant challenge for me. I am passionate by nature. I was raised in a family that liked to get loud, get emotional, and be right. Going with the flow is not natural for me. But even after a week's worth of feeble attempts, I see how much better my life would be if I could nail this.<br />
<br />
So in no particular order, here are the things I am going to do to continue to get better at Calm.<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>Get my butt back in a regular yoga class. I spend too much time in my lulus but not in a yoga studio.</li>
<li>Let my standards slide. Seriously. I've said this before, but I still obsess about having things just right and always my way.</li>
<li>Stop, breathe, and pause before reacting.</li>
<li>When I want to shout, try whispering instead. </li>
<li>Radiate the love I feel rather than resentment and frustration.</li>
<li>Keep in mind that one day, this time in my life is going to be a distant memory and I could regret not enjoying it more.</li>
<li>Prioritize myself a bit more. Visit with friends. Take a class. Do things that make me happy. A lot of my life is about my family now, but I'm part of that family too.</li>
</ol>
<div>
It may be odd that a seminar in dog behaviour could spark a personal revolution like this for me. But I have always thought of my dogs as my children too, and really, the principles of teaching, communicating, and shaping applies equally as well to parenting children as it does raising dogs. </div>
MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-90248952392209159422012-11-21T14:02:00.000-07:002012-11-21T14:02:16.607-07:00New LookWelcome to Apparently I'm A Parent's new look!<br />
<br />
<br />MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-84946071430167970152012-11-18T18:53:00.001-07:002012-11-18T18:53:39.851-07:00Sample size of 2I think one of the most interesting things about parenting two kids is how much it resembles a reality TV game show. We get to "expect the unexpected," enjoy scrambling after "this week's twist," and slog our way through "detours, roadblocks, and u-turns" galore here. Every time I make the mistake of expecting B2 to do roughly the same things at roughly the same time that B1 did them, or expecting B2 to behave in the same way as B1 at any point in time, I am routinely and profoundly schooled.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For example, when we moved into this house, B1 was just over 1 year old and I was about halfway through my pregnancy with B2. We were planning to move B1 into a big boy bed so we wouldn't have to get a second crib. I fretted profusely about the door handles (they were the long lever kind, not round knobs) and what we would do to keep him from roaming the house all night. We ended up changing them and buying those door knob covers for childproofing and it was such a waste of effort. B1 never even tried to get out of his room. Like ever. When he got a little older, he started to, but his <a href="http://www.goodnitelite.com/" target="_blank">Good Nite Light</a> took care of that. This boy is a rule follower (for the most part). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now. B2 has also been in a big boy bed for a while. And I don't know if he's actually tried before, but his doorknob was kind of sticky, so he could never get out. Until today. Twice today he has managed to bust out of there and I will tell you, I'm totally dreading tonight. I have visions of a tiny face popping up by my side of the bed a zillion or so times, saying "Hi Mama. It wake up time now?" when it will most assuredly NOT be wake up time. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My problem is this. I'm a statistics kind of girl. I like predictability, and patterns, and charts. I've made a career out of predicting how people will behave. A 50% margin of error is very difficult for me to compute. I suppose that's an argument for having a larger family (no thanks) in favour of improving statistical significance. That must be what's really behind the "3 is the new 2" movement. They're just trying to enhance their predictive models. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I suppose this is part of the beauty of parenting two children - the constant imbalance between expecting them to be carbon copies of each other and forgetting completely what the first one was like at age X. Perhaps I should spend less time trying to figure out what they're going to do, and when, and how, and spend more time getting to know each of them for their uniqueness and learning to love them for (or despite) what they are.</div>
MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-77240047751873180102012-11-03T10:30:00.000-06:002012-11-03T11:22:06.160-06:00MilestonesWell, today is my birthday, and this one puts me officially closer to 40 than 30. I have really never freaked out about my age before, in fact, I was always in a hurry to be older. I always felt too young to be taken seriously. I think I can officially say that's now behind me.<br />
<br />
Reflections from this, my 36th year on this planet, include the following:<br />
<ol><li>Raising kids really is a very consuming job. Thankless, exhausting, but rewarding and fun.</li><li>I am happier and feel more comfortable when I work outside the home as well.</li><li>I have a lot of First World Problems. I feel pretty lucky about that.</li><li>Pinterest makes me feel lazy and uncreative. And a little ragey at the people I re-pin who aren't lazy and uncreative. But I won't quit!</li><li>I still don't really know what I want to be when I grow up.</li><li>Wine on a work night is a great idea on the work night, but a terrible idea the next morning.</li><li>I really need to start exercising again. Seriously, B2 is going to wean someday.</li><li>I am a wicked awesome pumpkin carver. I wonder if I could also be a tattoo artist (see #5)?</li><li>I wish I was a medium. The talks to the dead kind, not the size. (see #5)</li><li>Remembering to take food out for supper is the absolute hardest part of my day. I don't know why, since it's a fairly critical detail that has to happen every day.</li></ol><div><b><i>Bonus:</i></b> Despite a lot of grumbling and ranting about tribulations from time to time, I am extremely happy, and exactly where I want to be. I am blessed and lucky to be living in this time and place. And I'm enjoying this adventure called life immensely.</div>MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4506240961349697993.post-82998008027614780662012-10-29T10:46:00.002-06:002012-10-29T10:46:24.762-06:00Pants On FireHubs and I take a lot of pride in being fairly honest people. In those rare cases where a fib is necessary, (like when the psycho from kijiji emails asking us where he can show up to pick up our free broken chair and murder us and we have to tell an untruth to save our skins), we both are generally quite awkward and concoct a colourful, minutely detailed story that's just so awesome people won't help but buy it. We go for the "It's So Unbelievable You Just Have To Believe It" approach. But in general, we are the kind of folks who won't hesitate to tell the truth at all times.<br />
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However, there is a huge, gaping exception. We lie to our kids ALL THE TIME. And the lies just roll off our tongues like warm maple syrup (which we are out of, wink wink). These are some of the most amusing lies I've noticed us telling the boys recently.<br />
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<ul>
<li>Dreaming about falling over a waterfall means you're growing (this stupid dream kept plaguing B1 for weeks until we gave him this feel-good, if false explanation)</li>
<li>There are no cookies in the pantry (technically true sometimes, they're often only in my belly - but I probably was hiding in the pantry when I ate them)</li>
<li>Yes I'm going to bed now too (because otherwise they will each insist that I need to stay in their bed all night when I tuck them in)</li>
<li>McDonald's is closed (does it ever close?)</li>
<li>Oops, sorry, the grocery store bakery ran out of freebie cookies (that smell is just a special birthday cake that someone else ordered baking)</li>
<li>We don't have money for that (because, yes, we are so tightly budgeted that your $1.47 bag of Skittles will put us into foreclosure)</li>
<li>Drink up your Advil (and please don't notice that it's just water in the Advil dose cup)</li>
<li>Today's going to be a No Yelling Day! (this is an unintentional lie...the No Yelling Day is always intended, rarely accomplished)</li>
</ul>
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Should I be concerned that I can't think of more? Am I becoming a hardened, calloused liar? Are the lines between honestly and fibbery becoming so blurred that I can't even identify which side I'm on anymore?</div>
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No. Impossible. I will never lie to my kids again. (What's that burning-denim smell?)</div>
MamaBsquaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17787605325957974895noreply@blogger.com0