A Mom Like Me

Somehow, three years have passed since I became a mama. After 15 hours of labour, six months of colic, seemingly endless sleepless nights, family vacations, first day of preschool, music class, gymnastics, picnics at the park and lots of baking/crafting and play dough-ing… my little boy is three years old! Three years have flown by so fast yet at the same time I can barely remember a time without Tristan. (Though I do have a *faint* recollection of heading out for drinks on the market at a moments notice, sleeping in, and watching movies all afternoon on a rainy Sunday…)

Three is a big deal. No longer considered a toddler, my boy is a pre-schooler now.  And of course, a big deal is cause for a big celebration! A week of celebrations. Three to be exact.

One family BBQ, one special lunch (at McDonalds… Shhhhh!) on THE actual big day, and of course a fun-filled party at Little Ray’s Reptile Zoo.

For our family BBQ, Tristan requested pink cupcakes with candy and  a cherry on top. My boy asked. His mama delivered.

Little Ray’s was a perfect party locale for my typical boy. Being the birthday boy, he got special treatment and was able to hold and feed several creatures.

Apparently he takes something from his mama, cause he wouldn’t hold a tarantula either!

Daddy worked on the cake for the big partay. Another great looking cake… I wonder what he’s going to make next year?

What a beautiful time of year! Dinners with family, beautiful spring time weather (finally!) and of course for the kids, enough chocolate to choke a horse.

The whole Easter Bunny fiasco is quite hysterical when you really think about it. Really? A giant rabbit hops around to everyone’s houses leaving assorted chocolates and other sugary treats sure to create hyperactive children bouncing off the walls in every house in the neighbourhood? Oh the innocence ( or shall I say gullible-ness) of children…

Hysterical and far-fetched as it may be to us grown up types, the kids just eat it up. Oh, was my boy ever excited. The night before Easter he carefully placed a carrot and cucumber and cookies (of course the rabbit would need to eat dessert right?) out for Mr. Easter Bunny to snack on. Unfortunately for the bunny, the snack grew considerably smaller when Tristan decided that he, in fact, would like to eat the carrot and swiped it off the plate. This was a step up in mommy eyes, however, because at Christmas time it was a cookie that was reclaimed from Santa’s plate.

Easter morning he could not wait to get downstairs to see if the rabbit had arrived. No time for a hug, mom, the chocolate calls.

Off we traipsed down the stairs, eagle eyes darting to and fro on the lookout for the prize. With every new egg he spotted, Tristan would exclaim, “OH! There’s one!” and it never got old. He could have egg hunted all day long. Once his basket was full, he sat down to open each egg and make a pile of his chocolatey treasure. I must say I think the pile in his tummy was just as big as the pile on the floor. (As a side note, I was happy to see that ‘ol Easter Bunny filled some eggs with stickers in an effort to curb the sugar high!)

By the end of the day, Tristan’s diet was looking sadly unbalanced. Amongst the jelly beans and chocolate eggs that filled his belly were one breakfast sausage, and… wait for it… one entire baby  carrot. Yup. One.

Yeah. No nutritionist mother of the year award for me today. Meh. My boy had a blast and tomorrow’s a new day.

Happy Easter everyone!

This year for Valentines Day, Luc gave me the greatest gift EVER. A night at the Chateau Laurier. Sounds romantic right? Are you picturing candles, flowers and romance? While that too would be lovely, my gift was absolutely what my exhausted body needed.

After months of sleepless nights, Luc gave me a night at the Chateau Laurier… alone!

Just me. Fifteen hours away from home. A king sized bed just for me. And no hourly wake ups!

I didn’t actually take my solo vacay until Springtime, but oh was it worth the wait!

Walking into the Chateau that Saturday afternoon, I felt something like this.  So exhausted was I dragging my sleep deprived butt up the laneway, I’m not sure I can boast looking much better either!

Guess what I typed into Google to find this image? "Withered Hag." Ha!

That afternoon I enjoyed a lovely, relaxing massage and some solo shopping at the Rideau Centre (and even scored a new spring jacket with a year old gift card!) Next I swam in the hotels gorgeous pool. It’s a good thing I actually swam laps to make room for what was coming next.

Enter the room service. Ohhhhhhh yeeaaaahhh. Dressed in my cushy white hotel robe, I dined on a shrimp cocktail, a gigantic cheeseburger with the crispiest, most delicious fries, and we mustn’t forget the decadent flourless chocolate cake. Of course I washed it all down with a tasty glass of red wine while laying back and enjoying a (completely uninterrupted!) movie. Ahhhh. It’s a rough life but, as they say, somebody’s got to do it.

After a solid ten and a half hours of sleep, I was the most rested I had been in a good six months. Rested, happy, and ready to return home for some time with my boys.

Life is great…

… except when it isn’t.

You know those days. Pleeeeaaaase tell me you know those days too. The ones where you open your eyes and it starts. The demands. The crying. The whining. OH MY GAAAAWD the whining. And sometimes, after a really long night, tears will form in your tired eyes, before you even pull back the covers. It’s all you can do to keep it together, and then even the cat joins in on the chorus. MEEEEOOOOOWWWWWWW! Because even the cat wants something from you.

I’ve had a few of those heart-sinking days this week, when I’ve thought, “For the love of all that is good, what about ME?! When do I get five minutes just to BE?” Mommies give and give…. and then we give some more. And sometimes we just give so much and are so exhausted that we snap at our whiny two year at the supper table and then join in on the tears with him.

Am I the only one? I cannot possibly be the only one out there who has the occasional day that is not all love and roses.

I stopped in at the clinic yesterday to weigh Logan and was lamenting to my mentor about how BLAH I’ve been feeling these last few days and she said, “You are so honest. THAT is real life.”

And you know what? She was right. That is real life.Real life comes with tickle fights and blanket forts and movie nights  snuggled on the couch. But it also comes with sleepless nights,  cranky kids (who are so much more difficult to deal with after said sleepless nights) and days when you really just don’t feel like playing dinosaurs. Again. And maybe if we were all more open and honest about the ups and downs and highs and lows, then maybe I wouldn’t have been consumed with so much mommy guilt after losing it at the supper table. Maybe I would have been kinder to myself and realized that I was not a bad mommy, I was simply a real mommy. Maybe we’d all feel justified in taking our supermommy capes off for just a while and allowing ourselves to be real people who feel real emotions in this real life.

What I found after naptime this week. "Mommy, I made it rain books!"

Because just like photo albums only display pictures from the happy times, so do discussions and blogs tend to rave about all the wonderfulness of life. And don’t get me wrong… we need to celebrate, we need to cherish those good times… but those rough times are important too. They create valid emotions and they help to shape us into the wonderful and loving parents and friends and spouses that we are.

Phew. Now that I’ve got that off my chest, please excuse me, while I once again don my supermommy cape. A sweet little boy is begging me to play dinosaurs with him (“Puhweeease mommy!”) and I am happy to oblige.

As seems to be the case for projects and jobs I’ve started recently, this post was started what seems like eons ago and I am finally getting back to it now. Little Logan has decided he is not happy anywhere but on my breast this afternoon so attached to the couch I am, slowing and awkwardly typing one-handedly while balancing his ever growing body in the other arm.

Several weeks ago I wrote this paragraph:

I am going to snuggle on the couch all afternoon with my newest little man, watching his sweet expressions as he sleeps. I am going to do this despite the countertops covered in crumbs and the mountain of laundry in the hallway, because the days go by too  fast and I will never have a three week old to call my own again. That, and he’s just so darn cute.

As I sit here today, my baby is 11 weeks old (Seriously? How is that possible?!) and I am still feeling the same way. Our days are typically spent doing puzzles (Tristan is an addict!) and becoming characters in Tristan’s over-the-top imaginative scenarios. Often it involves building “gates” (aka creating block walls) to keep out the troodon dinosaurs or “camping”  and “making marshmallows” in our blanket tent. Today we were escaping alligators and snakes, jumping out of the “deep blue sea” onto our mattress boat.

As we play I look around and still I see more mountains of laundry in the hall  (I only had one more baby – you’d think I had seven judging by the exponential increase in washing machine time) and piles of every plastic dinosaur known to man litter the floor. No way am I winning any Miss Susie Homemaker awards this year – just sayin’!

Meh. Am I worried? Not really.

Now don’t get me wrong – it’s not that I think it’s great for kids to grow up in a disaster zone and I will be sure to have a nutritious meal on the table most nights. After the kidlets are asleep I have been known to sweep through the house like a mad woman putting (at least some) things back in their place. I just choose to spend my  time and energy in the day on squeezing every last drop of good times (and of course some challenging ones too!) with my kids.

The other day a quote on my Lululemon bag jumped out at me. It exactly echos my sentiments here.

That which matters the most should never give way to that which matters the least.

Nothing matters to me more than my smiling babies. Happy kids, full tummies…the rest can wait!

…At least until my house cleaner shows up on Monday!

Here we are, four weeks into being a family of four, and we are slowly adjusting to new dynamics and new routines. Four weeks. It’s flown by so quickly and I keep having to remind myself that it’s only been four weeks…

I find myself putting unnecessary pressure on myself to do this craft or play that game or make this meal and to make sure I am occupying Tristan so that he doesn’t *gasp* watch too much t.v. I am learning that everything can’t be exactly as it was before.  Things are different right now – and I am so tired! Before Logan I was doing all of these things with Tristan, but before I had Logan I was also sleeping more than 2 hours in a row! I’ve finally realized that I need to give myself a break, that all I can do right now is my best… and that Tristan watching a little more tv is not going to ruin his smart little mind. This period is temporary… and right now I just need to do whatever it is that is necessary to keep everyone healthy and happy…. and to keep mama from losing her mind!

It’s the preschool mornings that are most challenging. It’s a very busy household with two boys to dress and feed and get out the door by 8:45. Last Friday morning I didn’t get a shower and didn’t eat breakfast. It was noon before I noticed that my was shirt was on inside out. Yep, I am definitely way at the bottom of the totem pole now, just in front of Dante the cat. No, scratch that. Dante was fed breakfast yesterday.

We’re still trying to enjoy our days as we did before, doing the things that we love.  We’re just not packing as much in and we have more down time. Maybe that’s a good thing.  Baking is still on the agenda. Nowadays, the extra weight I am carrying is on the outside, not the inside. I hope one day Logan will enjoy making cookies as much as Tristan does.

It’s comforting to know that some things never change.

Free time for myself is rare, and any special moments where I find both boys napping at the same time, I am more likely to join them than to choose some domestic or personal task to occupy my time. Case in point: I began this entry three weeks ago and am only now finally siting down to wrap it up! The sleeping bundle on my lap will turn seven weeks old tomorrow!

Through it all, I wouldn’t change a thing. (Ok, maybe I would sleep a little more! )

I sure do love my boys.