Pulling the goalie-a controversial move.

As a mama, I have to make decisions about the social lives of my very young girls. These decisions are often, not well received. By other adults.

While I have only just returned to watching hockey on a regular basis, I think of the mama decisions as akin to whether or not the goalie should be pulled at close to the end of the third period when the opposition is leading by one.  Sure, it puts six players on the ice that can all focus on scoring a game tying goal. But it also means that no one is on defense.  No one is guarding the net.  And a wide open net can be scored on from more than half way across the ice. By any of the five players who are already kicking your butt.

I feel at this point I should reiterate, I've only just returned to watching-that's watching-hockey. My husband Mark will surely laugh and have a few pointers for me on how to refine my analogy,  and having played hockey as a kid and watched it all of his life, I will certainly take his feedback and apply it for the future.  But onwards.

As  a mama, I have to consider all the possibilities before I agree to a big or small social event for my girls.  Sometimes it's easy.  Invited to the W's or the C's? Unless someone is contagious or immobile, Mark and I need that social time too, so we're going! Those two mamas parent like I do and won't bat an eyelash if I inform then my misbehaving kid has to stay by my side for a while.  They will just as quickly lend pjs and a blanket if someone gets sleepy.  

Going anywhere by car that required driving more then thirty minutes when C was a baby? Not going to happen. Not for strawberry picking nor seeing the pandas at the zoo.  That kid can scream for an hour straight at a deafening volume making it impossible to think near her never mind focus on traffic on the 401. 

Invited to an acquaintance's that we said yes to but my girls have a day of not listening and clearly need to unwind at home before an early bedtime? Sorry, I'm going to have to cancel even if it makes your kids sad.

 Invited to a loyal friend's annual family Christmas party? We're there, even if it is in shifts or just me or for a short time. 

Plans to go downtown on a Saturday that turn into a Sunday dinner "somewhere" without reservations during Christmas season and my girls have been hyper, need a bath, need to generally get ready for school and have an extra early start the next day when I'm on my own with three grumpy bears? Not going to happen. 

In all of those instances above and others where I have had to decline invitations or cancel plans, I'm never worried about the reaction of my girls but rather that of the adults involved.  Most of whom are parents.  I understand that you can't let your kids rule your life. But I also understand that I can't let an adult's expectations cloud what is best for my girls.  And generally, a warm bath, a hot dinner, and hanging out while listening to music and reading, trumps the hassle. The hassle, not of going out, but of everything going to hell in a hand basket when we get home again and I have uncooperative, overstimulated, exhausted children x 3!

Favourite Things, Eh

Recently, a friend (I can call her that with complete confidence thorough we have never met in-person because she is the cousin of a super awesome friend in my life. So obviously if I knew her we'd be close in-person too!) posted about her favourite things on her blog, Full of Graces, http://fullofgraces.com 

In the interest of being honest, I need to fully disclose, I'm not an Oprah fan. No particular reason and no big rant about why. It's not a thing, it just is.  But as we all know, favourite things, is originally inspired by Sound of Music. And so, without any attempt at poetry or a posh English accent a la Julie Andrews! I bring you, by way of Mississauga, Ontario, Canada, a few of my favourite things in no particular order other then the order I remembered them in!

-The One of a Kind Christmas Show and Sale (http://www.oneofakindshow.com/toronto/index.php): I try to go to this show every year at Christmas. It's an eleven-day event featuring exhibitors from all across Canada (and possibly beyond, I'm not sure. The artisan website wasn't as transparent as it should be.) and their original art work ranging from jewellery to butcher blocks and knives. From puppets and superhero costumes to ridiculously expensive shortbread and jellies. From hats,scarves, purses, kids clothes, and baby clothes to wood carved pepper mills and chocolate everything!  There is stunning photography, frozen dips, smoked spices,and every kind of knitted or woven or crocheted garment imaginable.  Mostly I go to look, and to dream of what I would buy with unlimited funds. But I also always buy the duck rillettes from Les canardises; the lobster dip; and the Christmas pudding.  This year, my friend LW went for the first time and it was nice to experience the show with her for the first time "again".  When I arrived on site she was already there with another friend heading up aisle V. I felt that the ticket process took an absurdly long time, so when I got through the doors I headed to aisle T and zipped through. Then went over to aisle S when I got LW's text saying she was about to head over to aisle U! Whaaat? It was a good reminder to slow down, enjoy the sights, and artistry and talk to friends while I was at it.  I need reminding of that when I don't have my girls with me, Anxiety sets in like I'm forgetting something or about to be late for something so I rush around, heart thumping, as if I've just mainlined coffee. LW smartly advised I cash in my free drink voucher for a glass of cab-sauv rather then the bottle of caffeine I was eyeing.  Much better!

-Red wine.  An obvious choice, but I was recently introduced to a semi local (Niagara wine region is about 90 minutes away,  Well more like two hours seeing as I have to get three kids out the door and now drive a lot slower given my precious cargo and /or the precious cargo waiting for me at home if I'm alone) baco noir.  It is a Henry of Pelham and lays to rest my qualms that  Ontario reds just don't get enough sun and heat to fully develop.   Let's be honest. Red wine, full-stop, is a favourite thing but I'm trying to be Canadian! Yumm!  If you are looking for an Ontario white to try, I highly recommend Cave Springs Reisling.  It's not as sweet as you think it will be and almost has a bubble to it.  So delicious with curries, or oysters if you don't want bubbles, or a very large glass pairs quite well with it also.

-Montreal. Oh my gosh, if you haven't been you must, must, MUST go. The people are so lovely, and quite pretty to look at too. The food is delicious. The core is comprised of unique neighbourhoods and stores reflecting that.  The nightlife-not that I've partake in it in...how old is R?...is heavy on the dance music but music and bars abound. I would drop everything to move there with Mark and my girls. Cinq-a-sept is a thing there! Everyone works really hard until 4:59pm and then zoom! Off they jet to the bar for wine or cocktails from 5-to-7. Supper is later. And luxurious. Want Poutine? Go to the local dive. So good. Cider, in its standard form or ice cider, is so quaffable you might become an addict. The perfect escape to somewhere other then here is exemplified in the vieux ville (old part of the city on the water's edge).  It is a maze of cobblestone streets, horse drawn carriages, ultra modern spas, and churches more than a 100 years old that you can simply sit in and revel at the beauty or kneel and say a prayer of gratitude. Also? Boutique hotels. I made the mistake of staying at Hotel St.Paul (http://www.hotelstpaul.com/en/home.html) in June.  I will never be able to stay at a chain hotel again without sighing and moaning in despair.  The best guest services ever.  Toiletries you want to steal extras of but that are handed to you freely. Chocolate truffles on the pillows, a view and a restaurant named Hambar (http://www.hambar.ca) where they cure their own prosciutto type meats. I had Mother's Day Brunch there which included a Caesar served with the aforementioned bacon as a garnish. If you ever go, search here:  http://www.tourisme-montreal.org

-Malepeque Bay oysters.  Briny, succulent, like the sea in a mouthful of meaty deliciousness. I could eat dozens of these.  I have eaten dozens of these.  Just the thought of oysters makes me want to run out and buy some.   In fact, just the thought of horseradish ( and yes,I think of it more often than you'd think) makes me want to go get oysters. The worst thing I ever did was cultivate an appreciation for oysters in Mark because now I have to share.  

-Caesars (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caesar_(cocktail)) when I was pregnant with L and then with C, I drank a lot of virgin Caesars. The juice, the spice, the salt, the vitamin c, the tangy notes of fresh lemon or lime, the horseradish (again! I should share my recipe for a horseradish sauce for grouper fillets). Pretty much all of the things my body wanted. I guess the craving stuck and I seriously can't get enough of them.

-The farmers market (April to October) Not only do I love my purchases but I love the experience.  I go with my girls every Friday. Before school so R can enjoy it too. I actually have a honey lady, and a venison and sausage family, a cheese lady, and yes, of course, a maple syrup guy. All of them are regular vendors at one of the local farmers market's. In Ontario we have arguably the best strawberries, incredible wild blueberries (I'd say the best are in Quebec), juicy peaches, sweet corn, and bursting with flavour heirloom tomatoes.  Sadly, all of it must be eaten in season or it just doesn't live up to the expectations.

And finally, I'm going to offer up something a little corny, a little cheesey, that's not actually edible: get-togethers.  I love hosting get togethers.  Big or small. Potluck or all my dishes.  Super informal or a little more organized.  With or without the skinny dipping in the summer after the kids go to bed. With kids or without. Mark and I are good co-hosts and we love throwing a party. Our recent wedding (September of this year) was so much fun it was pretty hard not say "getting married" as one of my favourite things.  But then again, it is.

Ten days until Christmas

Last year I got a new job in the middle of November. This year my contract was terminated Nov 29. And so while money for the new year is going to be tight, what better way to get ready for Christmas then a month off work to destress, enjoy my girls, make crafts with C, make cookies with my girls, decorate, and generally snuggle people I love in my pjs? No deadlines, no phone calls, no other people's urgent matters and angst. Being able to feel at peace with my girls, and with myself, is truly a gift I plan on relishing.  It is a rare opportunity that I do not intend to waste. Of course, I might be testing the resiliency of my inner peace on Boxing Day. (See the end of this post for how.)

It warms my heart, to use a cheesey expression to see my social media feeds filled with plans by other parents to downscale the Christmas pagentry and upscale the meaning of Christmas.  Ever since I met Mark and we spent our first Christmas mostly apart because of family obligations and circumstances beyond our control, I've been focused on spending Christmas being with people I love, who love me, and sharing good food, frequent hugs, a bottle of bubbly and one of Baileys, and a superhero movie. Because without the love and laughter of family and friends, it doesn't matter how many presents are under the tree. We have tried to maintain that tradition with his older kids and our girls. 

I don't think it would be stretching things to say that our Christmas revolves around feasting. I like  to plan our big meals over a couple of weekends with my girls and Mark. Ok, we start planning the weekend after Thanksgiving.  It's a thing for us.  Pouring over recipe books, flipping through magazines, pulling out the notebooks where all our feasts from the past ten years are written down. Trying to find the perfect balance between tradition and new. It's actually the perfect microcosm for our 

Christmas!

A friend of ours mentioned Christmas traditions and trying to decipher or distinguish between what is nostalgic and what is good.  I'm trying to build what is good and throw in some nostalgia, and limit the over indulgences for our girls. 

Some of our current favourite traditions are from our own childhood, from the books we read- The Nativity, The Polar Express-to the music we listen to: New-ish rock versions of Christmas carols mixed in with some German arrangements by James Last, a little Elvis, some John Denver and the Muppets, and of course, the classic crooners.  We put our own spin on this with newer books and listineing to the music every morning with the Christmas lights twinkling as we get ready for school. It is a fun way to start the morning and infact I may just keep the fairy lights up in the window for the long dark months of winter!  As a kid, we always made a semolina alcohol infused cake and milk toffee that was distributed to everyone we knew.  I don't have that with family and friends, but I'd like to start something similar, one year, when I'm more organized! But what we do have is the baking together, we bake and decorate sugar cookies and try new cookie recipes too.  This year we even made cake pops and it may or may not have been because the chocolate cake collapsed in here middle and I needed a solution. Let's just say they were appreciated and perhaps might become our tradition. Of course, there's a tree to decorate in a haphazard, all hands on deck way, and getting a real one every year is something Mark does for me and while I wish we could get it earlier, and always consider an artificial one, it's a tradition we have that I don't want to give up. We keep the presents hidden until just before Christmas because it adds to the anticipation. Though the stockings decorate the stairs from the time the lights go up.

Unlike when I was a kid, Santa, doesn't bring the big stuff. It has to fit In your stocking and tends to be more old fashioned like chocolate, a clementine, socks, and a little toy.  Every year we buy the girls a book, an outfit, Christmas Eve pjs and one other fun item.  Last year it was an easy bake oven.  For both of the bigger girls. Yes,that's right, a shared present. They are getting a shared gift this year too. I like to have my shopping done before the first. No need to think about navigating traffic and swarms of unhappy shoppers.  I spent too many years in retail to subject the poor employees to that.  Yes, I get it, the market and the economy, but sheesh, nothing about that requires you to be a complete pain in the ass as a shopper. 

But truth be told, I struggle with whether to take the girls to the shopping centres-I want them to see the lights and decorations because they are pretty but no one is calm in a busy mall so we drive around the various neighbourhoods. I'm also bit of a monster as I don't perpetuate the Santa myth. But, they believe though I don't encourage it and so that eases up on trying to get the picture if my girls on a strange man's lap. My little L is currently fascinated with the man in red and I briefly thought about taking her to the village at Sherway Gardens shopping centre when I was there for shampoo the other day. Side note, trust me, it was an essential visit or I wouldn't have been there as no one needs to see me without hair product! But from several stores away at 9:30am I could hear the shrill voices of the "elves" and hear the chaos of dozens of families crammed into the centre of the mall armed with toys to make their kids smile, cameras (multiple), and twice that number of kids split between being absolutely terrified and completely bouncing off the walls hyper.  

Nothing about that scenario said Christmas to me.  Nothing about that said , listen, prepare, be joyful, have hope, let the baggage go, exude peace.  As I thought about it, I realized that I don't have to indulge in my child's desire to go see Santa and write a wish list of presents to receive. Advent is a time of preparation, of hope and of anticipation. We just returned to church and while I have so many issues with the dogma and governance of the church (though I quite like Pope Francis!) my faith is important to me and I'm happy we are bringing that tradition back into our lives. It doesn't mean I have to blindly accept all of the church's traditions, but it also plays both ways: I don't have to accept all of the commercial traditions either!

Come to think of it, none of my girls have ever actually asked to do either of those things.  The grandparents ask for lists, which we reluctantly provide only to try to stay the influx of useless presents and aim for things the girls actually need and want.  My girls are pretty gracious kids so a book or a game would make them so happy if you would indulge them by reading to or playing with them.  Every animated movie on blu ray. Nope, don't need it.  Singing, flashing, plastic toys-nope. A CD of music you think or know they like or that you do-awesome!  Look, I get it, it's fun to buy gifts for kids and to wrap them and then watch them unwrap 'em. Take them for lunch, take them for a walk, take them sledding, take them shopping if you must because at least it will be an event. My girls have received gifts we have sent straight to goodwill the next day and we only felt guilty about the waste of money. If you have money to burn on my kids, they have a university education we need to help pay for!  It's interesting to me that R's godfather, who doesn't have kids, and only one nephew just a year or two older then R,gets it's he brings her chocolate and a gift card for books or music.  They eat the chocolate with her sisters and then he watches a movie with her and let's her read to him and they play a game or make a puzzle. Perfect! Another friend makes them presents that they love, but she also takes them swimming in the summer and for tacos, which they adore!

So here is where my inner peace is at risk. For the last three years we avoided the dual family get togethers at the holidays- but that was for us. Mark and I have a hard time navigating the demands on our families.  But maybe our girls would like to resume it. And maybe we need to just let it go and let it be what it will be. (Trust me, there are a few moments from our wedding that we are trying to forget involving our families being in the same place at the same time.  But at least the hostility wasn't directed at each other.) So we will give it a whirl again this year. We're thinking Boxing Day brunch. Extend the love by extending the feasting. Besides, it's not too early to pour some Bailey's into my coffee if it's brunch not breakfast right?

Just a chocolate quickie

OMG I can't believe I haven't shared this fabulous discovery with everyone.  Because as far as I know, everyone has a love-hate relationship with Nutella.  As in, they love it and they may or may not eat it with a spoon.  But they hate giving it to their kids because it contains the dreaded modified palm kernel oil.

And so, in my opinion, I have made a life changing discovery: homemade chocolate spread!

I realize that this discovery is not unique and certainly most Italians familiar with gianduja, will be quite familiar with my life altering recipe; however, that will not stop me from proclaiming its awesomeness.

With many props to the domestic goddess Nigella Lawson, without who's recipe for 

Chocolate-Pistachio cake, I would not have made this delicious and delectable spread.

So, without further ado, run to your kitchen and grab a couple of handfuls of hazelnuts or pistachios. Hazelnuts will be more authentic, however they have a tendency to go rancid a little faster.  And yes, I used salted pistachios and did not find the end result salty.  In a food processor, though a vitamix would result in the smoothest powder and a mallet or rolling pin would do in a pinch with the crunchiest powder, blitz the nuts to powder. Simultaneously melt a few bars of Lindt 70%cocoa chocolate bras.  I chose Lindt because it's the best quality I can find at costco! as money is a factor here.  These bars have no modified oils of any kind listed in the label and no artificial flavours.  Once the chocolate is melted and cooled but not hardened, add to food processor with a couple of tablespoons of unsalted or salted butter, a splash of vanilla, and a couple of tablespoons of brown sugar.  Blitz until creamy and try not to eat the entire thing with a spoon.  Obviously the butter renders this unstable for shelf storage but you could easily dollop it in a ice cube tray and leave that I'm the fridge or wrap it in wax paper and slice off small amounts to come to room temperature before use.

And that my friends is how you make a little bit of awesomeness with chocolate.

Insert clever title about anxiety and being away from your kids here.

In exactly two months I will be taking a vacation with my Mark for a week without my girls. Given that C still nurses through the night and L throws herself around me howling in despair whenever I go to leave the house without her I'm not sure how to even start preparing emotionally for this. And let's not forget the beautiful and stoic R who is excited to be spending a week with her aunts and grandparents in charge, likely envisioning seven days of wheat and sugar overload along with a Jem and the Holograms marathon and a mountain of new books to read. In between going to school.

So here's the question: how much notice should I give L?  If it was me, and I know R is the same way, I'd want weeks of notice so I could plan and prepare and know exactly what was coming. But with L, sometimes it is better just to spring things on her because honestly she is going to cry anyway so why make her deal with weeks or even days of anxiety?  She isn't dense, so she is going to clue in at some point and I'm scared to pieces that I will fall apart because I can barely keep it together right now. So last week I passed the buck on to a slightly miffed Mark and told him to prepare our girls and make all the arrangements because I was out.

I've kinda had it with taking it all on my shoulders to figure out options and talking it to death and worrying myself sick. I'm not saying my partner-husband!-isn't fully involved, he is but he is an introvert with a tendency to just grimace and bear it when it comes to my extroverted thinking out loud c-o-n-s-t-a-n-t-l-y process. Did I mention that the  past few weeks I have been on an eating binge, I can't shake my anxiety, I've been short tempered -which makes me horribly sad because I had really been doing so much better-and there isn't enough sleep in the world for me yet I can't sleep and when I do I have horrible dreams? Fun stuff. So I told Mark to do it. And yet, here I am all curled up in a ball overthinking crap out loud (sort of).

I have never been away from my girls for more than fifteen hours. The longest I have been away from the house without them was twenty three hours on the night/day C was born and they spent the entire day with me before I got home at 11:30pm. And that was the last time they were away from me for more than a school day and that was almost 22 months ago. I get that this is as more about me and my anxiety and not about last minute sadness from R, or L and hers or weaning C from her nighttime nursing.  Because, let's be honest, R is logical and will be fine. if there are no boobs to drink, C is either going to kill off one member of my family at a time, deafen all of them the first night so that the remaining five are dulled, or just roll with it because I won't be here.  

With L, it becomes all about minimizing her anxiety.  She had a horrible first month of school, she barely hung on throughout October, but now it's mid November and she actually said "Yay!" when we confirmed that indeed she has school tomorrow. She comes home and buries me in crafts all withi my name and her name and our pictures on it.  She doesn't want anyone other than me to drop her off or pick her up and when I even mention going into the office she freaks out a bit because it is a change in the routine and this whole  "school on a daily basis for six and a half freaking hours " BS maxed out her coping with change mechanisms for the foreseeable future. Now this might sound like I'm exaggerating but this kid won't go to the children's liturgy at mass with her sister and school mates while I am still in the church.  She doesn't want to go to birthday parties unless I am there. She doesnt want to play with visiting friends unless I am within reach and often consequences for poor behaviour fly right over her head or completely devastate her because she is only living in extremes right now.  I just managed to get her to run with her friends in the playground while we wait for her sister instead of begging me to play hopscotch as really, that is both a health hazard to me and to any onlookers who would pee themselves laughing at the sight. But I guess with L, two things are going to happen-she is either going to kill me with her emotional heartbreak and Mark will wish he had left me behind. Or, I don't tell her much and she breaks my heart but lets her aunts, Nana, Dumbu,and sisters distract her. Which leads me to my next point of anxiety-do I call and skype and stress both of us out? Because she has that sad little voice and the big tear filled eyes and C will be jumping out of her skin wondering why I haven't come home yet. I'm pretty sure I'm going to call because that's the one thing that would upset R, if she couldn't talk and connect to me to tell me about how her week is going. And such is the balancing act of a mama with three equally amazing but very different girls.

Surprisingly, the one thing I don't have to worry about is that my Dad, of his own accord, committed to taking the week off work and letting the girls stay in our house in order to maintain a sense of schedule and normalcy. We will see how fast he gets manipulated out of that but I will deal with that later. 

For now, I guess I need to work through my own stuff.  Maybe it's because the last time I was way from them for C's birth things were emotional and I didn't want to be away from them. Or maybe it's because I am a mama bear who spends all day every day with her girls and the idea of being a costly flight away from them is scary for me.  Or maybe it's because I don't know what "resort wear" means having only taken shopping trips to Montreal, conference trips to Vancouver, family pilgrimages to France and Portugal, and backpacked through Thailand with a 23lb backpack, and my camera.  I mean, my reference points for  a beach resort are Dirty Dancing and The Flamingo Kid!

The harsh light of a full day at school

Hey mamas and dads, any advice on how to help my L accept school as her new reality? 

Over the summer we read books about school and played school; she has teachers whom she knows; she has family friends in her class; she took classes and went to day camp to practice being away from Cand I; I acknowledge her anxiety and heartache; we reinforce all that she gets to do at school and still come home to do; she takes photos and mementos to school; we remind her how she didn't like staying home last year when her sister and her friends started school; I've stopped walking all the way into class with her and we do abbreviated goodbyes; her big sister has permission to have lunch with her if she wants it and talks to her about how to not feel sad from a kid's point if view; we have stickers for everyday she goes to school plus another one if she goes without crying; and more.

 But she goes to sleep anxious, she is sad in the mornings and she sobs for me for an hour at school. My social bouncy daughter is quiet and sometimes l find her lying in her bedroom floor staring into space with the oddest look on her face. and this isnt about being tired or needing to recharge. I know how she is when she is in need of that very important "me time". When I pick her up it takes until we are off school property and then she runs and dances with glee. 

We have individual expectations of our girls because they are so different in awesome ways. So we didnt expect L  to love school and learn how to read before the age of five. but she is more adept in social situations then R was at this age; and she comes home with some stories of playing with or talking to other kids. I suspected the reality of school every day would be surprising to L and I know it is only the third week of school but her heartache is palpable and it is taking all of my mama strength and mama logic to not keep her home with me when she cries out for me and wraps here tiny body around kind like a little monkey. 

I want to teach my girls that they can do hard things, that life isn't always easy and that new things are yards. I want to teach them to step up to the challenge and to understand that they can miss someone and survive and more importantly taut the person they love is still there for them emotionally even when separated physically. But isn't that a lot to ask of a four year old? Maybe L just isn't ready? Maybe being with her baby sister who howls and sobs for her at the morning drop off, who handed L her backpack when she started crying and said "home"; who calls out for her in the middle of the night-maybe keeping them together is more important right now. Because L is social and independent and smart and strong but right now she isn't acting like any of those things and I don't think she is feeling like she is any of those things.

So what's a mama to do? 

Present Parenting or An $80,000 Dream.

With the Ontario Midwifery Student Conference a year behind me, that's how far removed from the MEP I am. Last year I was faced with a very significant decision about my status in the program. Now, while I had a year to actually confirm this decision; that's not really my style. I didn't want to spend every other weekend in angst over what to do, how to do it, and making pro/con lists that I recite out loud to Mark. Trust me when I tell you, he did not want me to go over this in angst either- funny, how he thought there were better ways to spend the few hours (minutes) alone that way.

Ironically, (in the true sense of the word), the conference sealed my fate.

We had a minor emergency situation at the conference last September, that leads me to believe that my heart made it's decision even as my head still struggled. I had made my first presentation( read about it here), gone for lunch with my daughters and Mark, caught up with friends, met new midwifery students, caught up with my (former) midwife and was prepping for my next presentation. And then my bouncy little L returned with Mark and R. She looked pale for my little brown baby and was shockingly still. In my bag of mama tricks I had ibuprofen and chocolate ( to keep her blood sugar and mood up!) and I quickly procured water and ice. Fifteen minutes later she was looking worse. So we left. The conference presentations were running long/late and there was no way I could concentrate knowing my little one was in pain. I informed the appropriate people. Or so I thought.

People were looking for me. The general impression I got was that a few folks had been unimpressed I'd left because of a sprained wrist. Which actually, thanks to my google diagnosis, was a dislocated elbow!!! My baby girl was in severe pain until the doc at th ER popped it back in for her. Had I forced her to stay so that I could have a few minutes of attention I would never have forgiven myself. I had to put her in the baby wrap to carry her back to the car because walking and the jarring motion of the stroller was too much for her. 

Here's the thing, if I'd been on-call and had been paged, I would have had to go. If I was at a birth, as a student, and had left for this minor emergency my grades would have been in jeopardy. I'm quite positive some of the other mama midwifery students would have made the same choice i did. But I'm equally positive many more would not have. L was after all, in the strong and loving hands of her daddy, and I had made a commitment so I should have stayed and transited or cabbed it back home with C. Or, I should have had back up care for C. Or, I should have let Mark handle R, L, and C on his own. And you know what, he could have. I trust him like no other with our children. But if I'd been on my own, I would have absolutely called him for advice at minimum and help with one or more girls if necessary. When we got in a fender bender last year, he dropped everything and came to get us even though he didn't "have to". I'm not quite sure I want to be in a situation, in a lifestyle, where I can't do the same for him. Where I can't be there for my girls.

That night I showed L and R images on-line of her elbow and explained what would happen. We made funny plans for her to sneak to Tim Horton's without me and R after she saw a doctor. R and I tidied , talked about how l wasn't going to the hospital because L wasn't sick and that her injury was minor so she might have to wait but ultimately, she'd be home pretty quickly and then we watched a movie together beside baby C. L came bouncing back in the house a couple of hours later. That's basic mama-ing I couldn't provide if I was in school. Make no mistake, Mark "had this". He totally would've handled the situation in his amazing Dad way. I mean,  this is the guy who told our kids their (dead) fish went on a sleepover at his fruend's house because our place was too cold! He's just awesome as a parent and I love being a patent by his side.

Flash forward to today, I'm desperately trying to get a hold of someone at the program so I can discuss my situation. I have friends in different stages of the program all of whom didn't find out until 2 weeks ago when their classes were and where they had to be (and at what time, as some of them have shift work coming up). Many of them have children, all of them have lives. Everyone was on hold from April and now, chaos! The program has asked me to come in to speak with them "hopefully that's not too much trouble." Um, yeah, it is! I have three kids, I'm 35 minutes away from campus on a good day but its September, so there is no good day or time. The roads are packed, with lane reductions and overwhelming heat. The transit parking lots are full and the bus is not conducive to managing three kids, a stroller and multiple backpacks and water bottles. Because when you travel with three kids, even for a 15 minute meeting 35 minutes away, there are always multiple backpacks and water bottles. 

So the situation has really solved itself. I'm not going back. I'm withdrawing, hopefully only for a couple more years but who knows. At this point it is hard to justify spending another 80k on myself which is money we don't have and money our girls could use for their post secondary education if we did have it. Or you know, we could pay off our mortgage before everyone starts migrating to the colonies in space.

The Cake Photos

Recently on Facebook, a photographer friend confessed to never taking photos of birthday cakes. I take pics of the awesome robot cakes Mark builds out of cakes I make; or of the girls baking cakes. But other then that, nope, no picture of the cake unless it is smooshed all over someone's face I'm not interested. My kids take pics of their cakes but who am I to stop them?

This led me to think of our wedding and wedding photography. We asked a good friend of ours to take pics -he's an artist and one of the few people we could trust to take good photos). One of our biggest concerns over wedding pictures was not getting the artsy ones. As in- we didn't  want the artsy ones! I don't need to pay someone an exorbitant amount of money ( and please understand, I have paid professional maternity and newborn shoots and would easily pay for more professional pics because I understand and respect the work and time and talent invested in a professional photographer and then stunning photos they produce) to take any of the following photos which I have seen and/or been a part of. And yes this sounds a bit judge but I'm referring to this current point and time. My wedding now, not my wedding pre-kids or in my twenties or with gobs of money to spend. 

-the cake at various angles and in various tones. Yes, I get it. Wedding cakes (edible or just mock cakes which I have seen) are works of art unto themselves. But I don't need a dozen pics of the cake from all angles and in sepia tones. Who wants to eat that?! And yet, I hope there is at least one photo of our wedding cake because we made that nine layer deliciousness ourselves! 

-the buffet table, the dessert spread, place settings, a slice cake with an artistic bite taken out of it

-other people's children doing cute things. Pay for your own family photo shoot people! I kid.  Sort of. But I didnt allow kids other then my own and one infant at my wedding.

-a close up of the ring, a flower, a hairpin. It's my ring, I will be wearing it daily. Where am I supposed to put a photo of it-eBay when I can't pay my bills?! Note: a close up of our hands with our rings on, I can live with that.

-shoes. Other than at a midwifery graduation here in Ontario where all the grads where red shoes, I don't understand this one. It's bad enough to take a close up of everyone's shoes in a circle at the wedding but I've had a photographer take a picture of Mark and I in our two tones and we are just guests at the wedding. Who pays for that?

-Mark leaping over anything or anyone

-Anyone holding up cutesy signs on over sized cue cards or under sized blackboards

Here's what I do want- photos capturing moments of us and our girls before, during and after the wedding. Mark and I together dancing, kissing ( tastefully. Because there are some rather graphic ones from a particularly boozy night in my iPhone). Us interacting with friends. Some wide angle party shots and some posed pics just to ensure they happen. Anything that captures who we are. And let's be honest, anything where I look awesome!

Help me, help you.

Jerry McGuire was in TV the other night, as I read and Mark Chanel surfed and so the title, as you know, is a quote from that movie. A little round about but appropriate here I think.

Before leaving for school this morning, we called R's best friend from grade one who has been away all summer. Like a-l-l summer. Her friend is the youngest of three girls and is a great kid, so are her sisters. We pass by their house on our way to school so thought it would be nice to meet up and walk together. Well, their mom was not happy at all that we called at 8:30 to see if they wanted to meet up in ten minutes. She was too busy getting them ready to talk. No worries. I don't quite get that, given my youngest is a toddler prone to hulking out, and we were, but whatever. As we pass their house, we see them leaving so we wait but then they go in/out a few times and then disappear into the garage. Not sure why anyone would drive to school on the first day if they can help it. Again, perhaps this is completely necessary. But when we get to school we see her friend arrive, her friend with whom she walked home with every day last year, who came to R's party and L's, her friend is so nervous and distraught (and likely exhausted from a long car drive home from the cottage last night, cuz why come home earlier? But a cottage owner I am not so perhaps there are mysterious rituals that need to happen on labour day-night that I am unaware of.) that she can barely crack a smile. This poor kid, who helped my kid gain some courage and independence last year, is devastated to learn she is not in class with any of her friends including my R - who at this point is surrounded by a group of girls and boys she knows, because when she tried to talk to her best friend, her friend was too anxious and upset to let go of her mom to socialize. So, "mom of the best friend", who's kids are older then mine and quite competent and nice because I've had them at my house, maybe next year, when your daughter's friend offers to meet up and walk to school with her, you should take thirty seconds to agree (or respond to the email from two weeks ago) so her transition back is even marginally less stressful. My kid did fine and I'm sure yours adapted but seriously lady, I'm not trying to bond with you, our kids are friends. Help me, help you. 

Back to School: It's All About the Routines

This year is the first year of school for L. She's a bundle of energy but it will be a big change so we are keeping activities to a minimum with just skating lessons on Sunday afternoon and hopefully some fun swim times on Friday nights or Saturdays. We all love to walk and take photos, especially in cooler weather and the girls are still trying to learn to ride two wheelers. All of this on top of the to/from school walk which totals 3km.  So I'm not worried about physical activity. And this way the girls will have plenty of downtime, homework time, and plain old play time with C who adores them!

Starting the second last week in August I reset our alarms using current favourite songs. One for waking up, one for heading to breakfast, one to start getting ready to leave. By the first day of school even the toddler know what song signals "get your shoes on". It also helped get them used to waking up earlier (sort of).

One of the ways we helped L get ready for school for the first time was a couple of weeks at day camp. She loved it. Add this to the fact that she is going to have her big sister's kindergarten teacher, the familiarity of the room and the teacher, definitely helped appease the night- before jitters. We'll see how the first week goes!

Every Sunday morning, we check the weather together for the week & choose outfits for week including hair accessories and place them in hanging cubbies (one cubby for each school day). This way my girls have choices and control plus any favourite clothes still have time to be laundered. An added bonus is ensuring that they don't wear dresses or skirts on gym days (too young to change for gym) or that they have the right colours/outfits for School Spirit Days.

Every Sunday afternoon I chop up veggies and fruit and place in two big glass dishes in the fridge. The girls have labelled lock&lock containers they pack for the next day every evening before supper. Because after supper is way too hectic!

And finally, while likely an unpopular choice, we don't let the girls watch TV during the week. Between after school routines, homework, playing, supper, bath time, and reading. There just isn't the time. And no TV ( this includes YouTube, movies and screen-time games) means they go to sleep much easier.

There's a bakers rack for all their lunch containers, water bottles, and lunch bags. We have hooks for backpacks. And a document holder for forms with calendars on the fridge. School supplies are in the kitchen and the office do that they don't need to take their pencil case out of their bag which reduces the chance they will forget it at home. And homework is done in the kitchen.

Ultimately the best thing we have going for back to school running smoothly is that our girls are super excited about it and generally have a love of learning we hope will continue for many years. And on the days it doesn't, the routines will hold it together.

Two weeks to JK!

It's not fair. My bouncy four year old who wakes up most mornings bouncing and singing; often still wanting to play peekaboo, starts school in two weeks and I'm going to miss her so much my heart hurts.

The unfair part is, no one gets it.

I'm not trying to keep her a baby. I enjoy every age my girls reach as it brings a whole new set of exciting things they can learn and they can teach and they can do.

I'm not trying to keep her at home to protect her from the big bad world. I'm sure I will want to keep her home the first time someone is mean to her or if she cries and doesn't want to go to school. But I won't.  I will give her the strength and trips and love and hugs and mama bear support she needs (and angry mama bear conferences with teachers and whomever else might need to get on board with me!)

And I would never ever say to her that I'm going to miss her a lot or that C will be lost without her. She has too many insensitive  grown ups in her life that do that already thinking they are expressing love when instead they are building anxiety attacks and worries.

L and I have been eagerly anticipating school and talking about the routines and planning for the fun for a year now.

It is just a year that seems to have gone by so quickly and I feel so inadequate as a parent. I just keep questioning whether I gave her all that I could.  Did I play enough with her? Read enough to her? Teach her enough basic academic skills? Teach  her how to be strong and fierce and polite and respectful? Did I give her everything she needs to know she is an amazing little kid that is strong and funny and sensitive and kind? And that she doesn't have to be all of those things at once? Did I lose my patience with her too often? Was I too demanding of her? Was I working too often instead of hanging out with her?  

And the answer is always yes. And no. Yes I gave her everything I could to be ready for school and life as a four year old. And yes I could have played with her more and read to her more and put my work down more. But no I couldn't have loved her better or harder or taught her any better that she is awesome and that I love her and she doesn't need to think about me or C or Mark when she is at school because she is four not eighteen and off to university but at school for six and a half hours and I'm happy to pick her up from lunch if she wants or take mama days if she wants and we will have four hours every evening and all weekend and she will make friends and learn so much and be able to teach us so much.

And the work guilt is misplaced, because I'm fortunate in that I get to be home while I work.

And the did I not play with you enough is misplaced because I did.

And we cooked and baked and shopped and walked and talked and snuggled together. 

And it's just all out of proportion  and completely distorted because it is summer so no I don't sit down and play Barbies with her every day or build Lego castles or play top chef because she has two sisters at home who are happy to do those things and then I can take her for walks and bike rides and pay for camp and go to farmers markets and visit friends.

But really the unfair part is that I'm not going to get a lot of sympathy from other parents possibly including my own partner (possibly) because I have had the honour and pleasure of her company almost every day since the day she was born (my own school and occasional meeting being the exception).

I'd really prefer if she was only going to half-day JK but full day SK.  I feel like the transition for her, for me, and for C would be easier.  But I also trust that my daughter is going to be fine and C and I will find our own path while she is away at school.  Which may or may not include retail therapy.

I'm just saying.

Co- Sleeping Intervention Needed (a year from now)

Every summer we pull our mattresses off the bed frames and slide them down the stairs to the main floor by the last week in June. This year we went another floor down, to the basement for two blissfully cold and dark weeks ( it was hot and sunny outside) but a rainstorm flooded our new sleeping digs and we made a hasty retreat to the living room.

Tonight we are back on bed frames in our rooms and our spines are thanking us. Our girls will also hopefully get more sleep; while, Mark and I might watch less crappy TV because it won't be right in front of us.

I started out with the best of intentions: putting C's mattress on the floor beside our bed. She napped there in the afternoon and I nursed her to sleep around 8. She started making noises around 10:45 but soothed herself back to sleep twice in 45 minutes before she woke up calling for me. 

And that's where I made the mistake. Not of going to her, that I can't help and neither can she until she sleeps more soundly without nursing. But rather, I picked her up and put her in my bed which did two things. One, it annoyed the pants off her. And two, it immediately resumed the co- sleeping I need to wean myself, um, her, off of, without even trying for a full night.

I love sleeping beside my babies. In fact, I could easily sleep with all of them snuggled around me on a floor of mattresses. ( Provided of course Mark and I had our own secret retreat. See Footnote, but be warned.) I am comforted by the sound of their breathing. I can comfort them when they struggle or whimper. And, here's the whole truth: I don't have to get up and go to them. In fact, I don't even have to wake up fully! 

When each of my older two girls moved out of our room, I got less sleep for weeks on end either not being able to fall asleep myself because I was worried I would hear them calling me and because they actually would call and wake me ( me, not us) up multiple times. And this would happen several times a year over several years and I eventually started making Mark go to them because I couldn't handle it gracefully. 

So tonight, at just over 18 months, I brought C back into bed with me because this is where she has always slept except for an experiment we tried right after she turned one. We would put her to sleep in her sister's bed and then they'd join her and she would sleep for three or four hours and we would get lulled into a tricky comforting deep sleep snuggled close to each other and bam! Be jolted awake by a howling C who would wake up her sisters too. And Mark would have to stumble into their room to get her and he realized this whole night time feeding thing is quite disruptive if you actually have to wake up fully.

The co sleeping interdependence and the inability to wean my children before they are two and a half are my huge blind spots as a mama. I would love to learn how to do both or either but it's hard to invest in a skill you are only going to use once. And so C is snuggled against her Dadadadadada (only way she says it) and they are keeping me company. Together her and I will figure it out. Right now, we enjoy the truly fleeting moments. But if she's still in my bed next summer, I may need a co- sleeping intervention. 

Footnote: In case any one is pitying Mark for this inconvenience you should know-and this strays into TMI territory-we have a stash of condoms in almost every room in the house that needs regular replenishment.

Drunk Dial-the Old School Drink Text/Post/Status

Mark and I just got home from dinner at a friend's place. "Just" as in I should post this in the morning to make sure there are actual words here and not random collections of letters my thumbs decided to land on.

And this need to check my post is actually what inspired it. I am so so soooo happy to have Mark in my life for reasons too lengthy to get into here but one of the many reasons, which incidentally he brought this up first- years ago, is because of the lack of impulse control to drunk dial or phone a friend after an extra round (or three) at the bar. The fact that I have him, right here, to kiss and make suggestions to, that he will agree to ( Little known secret, when we were dating he would frequently turn down my suggestive suggestions) is fabulous. Not to mention face saving. Also, having kids helps-in that you either have no friends left to drunk dial ( who wouldn't kill you for waking them up) or your kids monopolize your time as soon as you get home so you don't have time to drunk dial.    

Drunk dial, seriously. Does anyone do that anymore or is it drunk text or IM or PM? I gather its not tweet or update because that would be more public. But wow, what's worse, leaving a rambling voice mail and/or speaking to someone while completely hammered or texting/messaging them? Both are traceable and evidently you. Both will leave you with strong memories if you are unlucky or no memory of it at all if you are lucky (except for evidence on the Internet forever should that PM have actually been a wall post). Both can leave you vulnerable and both can be satisfactory.

Anyway... Sheesh, a person tends to ramble on post-drinking-my point is that 

Mark and I were a couple long before social media had a death grip on society so the worst that could happen then was that I would remember the night before, when  I woke up in the morning, feel slightly or very guilty about the events that passed and realize it didn't matter because I was in the good company of GL, LA, KJ, LP, and JB and we'd basically all pulled the same or similar stunts

I'm not sadly reminiscing. I'm  just in awe of how far things have come, how much my life and life in general has changed in the past decade. It was a topic of discussion tonight but not in a drunk way rather a thread that wove itself through different topics and ended with our departure wherein I said something along the lines of "I better stay offline when I get home as I just drank a bottle of big red on my own." Basically, suggesting I'd go home and dote on or rave about how amazing our friends  are and how much I love them. And Mark. And my girls. And being a mama, which for me, is just so much better then being able to stay out at a bar or club until last call. I am surrounded by love, and conveniently, good friends who enjoy good food and wine-lots of it. Which is the biggest and best difference between life now and life ten or so years ago-the love expressed now after a bottle of wine is genuinely reciprocated and rings true even in the harsh light of the next morning. In fact, it is even stronger. 

Now, time to put away my phone before I post this without an edit.

Creating an anniversary

Mark and I aren't married, officially.  In our minds, hearts, taxes, and the reflection of our love in our three girls, we totally are. 

The ongoing problem with not being married was not having an anniversary! A day to celebrate us. We have a first kiss day but our first date was kind of a vague 

Just under four years ago Mark dropped a samurai steel engagement ring in a box of Soma chocolate and left it on the kitchen counter. It was a random day in September, a few months after we'd just moved into our house and before L was even six months old. He said he couldn't wait until by birthday to give it to me. How awesome is that? I mean he bought me chocolate from Soma! 

We sort of started to plan out a wedding including gourmet catering of an hors doeuvre reception, an incredible photographer, and possibly holding it in Montreal with a group train ride there! 

And then I was accepted into the Midwifery program at Ryerson. And then we had another baby. And then My sweetheart decided to just plan the wedding and surprise me. I gather from our close friends he lasted a couple of weeks before he told me.

I'm thrilled to be involved because I love party planning, I'm not overly fond of surprises and the anticipation is half the fun.

The thing about getting married after you have a house, three girls, and 9 to 11 years of commitment is that it really becomes about the life you have already built together and celebrating that with the people you love and who love you. Oh and cheap! It becomes about the what you can do cheaply and whether you actually have to invite your family.

The short answer is yes you do. But I refuse to be walked down the aisle. Don't get me wrong, I love my Dad. I consider us quite close but he is so emotional I don't need my mascara running before I even get to Mark! But more importantly, we have been together for at least nine years; and the only person that gets to give this bride away is herself. It's not so much a rebellion of tradition. ( been there, done that) but an opportunity to walk into a celebration of us, together and with our girls. To be sure I didn't offend my Dad I did check in with him and he admitted "it's not really my cup of tea. But whatever you guys need I will be there for you."

While my living in sin status may not show it; I consider myself a person of strong faith. I have a few issues with the politics of the Catholic Church, but they have a few issues with my politics! So we agree to disagree. The only church i rvet wanted to get married in is fortyinutrd outside Quebev City and a revered pilgrammage site, so a logistical impossibilty. I'm more than ok that Mark, (my aethist partner who is kinder, sweeter, and more generous and more forgiving them many communion receiving Catholics I know) and I get married in the home we have created together surrounded by our family and friends. It's truly fitting and very us. And so as we plan our day, we are striving to make it very us.

Along those lines, my sweetheart of a partner is making me giggle at his eye rolling and scowling as he plans the wedding. These are all tasks he chose or rather insisted on taking on, reluctantly surrendering some tasks to me which we made final decisions on together.

Wedding invitations. Mark is designing them. Based on the look on his face here:

he'd obviously rather be chewing rusty nails. This pic is from the first week in July as he starts to design the invites for our September wedding and he appears "mildly" irritated that we don't magically own a copy if Illustrator or Photoshop and that my netbook is slow. But as a small handful of you know, those invites are actually landing on doorsteps this week. We had a lot of fun addressing them as it involved cursing the Internet for not instinctively providing us with missing unit numbers and postal codes while Mark called his parents to tell them and the resulting conversation was hysterical and involved not being congratulated; and wondering aloud if it was just going to be family. Because if there is one reason we waited this kin to get married it wasn't so we could have a kick ass pool party with our friends it was to relive every awkward and irritating dual family get together ever.

Here is a pic of him picking music for the playlists:

That is his expression whenever I actually offer up a song suggestion - at-his- request. Apparently, Bon Jovi and Bob Marley is way too common, sorry, overplayed and " I already added  Livin on a Prayer". Not  sure where it is that -we go- these artists are overplayed. But I trust him with this. So many of our early conversations and dates were around music, concerts, and dancing. I know he will generate a memorable playlist that we can dance to.

And people, there will be dancing. And tequila. And swimming. And food. Throw in thirty friends and a few family members. Add three butterscotch girls with wide grins and sparkling eyes and lots of love- sounds like a match made in heaven to me. 

I'm just hoping I learn how to tread water before September as I'm worried some over enthusiastic friend is you to throw me in the water.

A la prochaine Chef Chuck

Sigh.  I just clicked the cancel button for my dinner reservation at Le Bremner Restaurant in Montreal.  Feel free to take it – 6pm Friday May 10.  It is supposed to be “ahhhhmaaazing”.  Here at home, we love Chef Chuck Hughes.  We watch his show.  We cook from his book.  We may even have a celebrity crush on him.  And by we, I am referring to my girls.  (And myself.) 

I’m fortunate in that my girls will pretty much try anything.  R is acting a bit more like a typical kid due to the influence of her peers (why, oh, why didn’t I homeschool?!) by having an exaggerated reaction to things she doesn’t like.  But R’s version of an exaggerated reaction is probably quite subdued compared to most.  And there is very little she doesn’t like in terms of food.  In fact, all three girls are growing quite adventurous in their tastes.  Add to that, the excitement of being in Chuck’s restaurant, being in Montreal, getting all-fancy…the evening holds the promise of fabulous memory-making!

The reality is, while our recent dinner at Chef Lynn Crawford’s Ruby WatchCo was a huge success in terms of a family dining experience – my girls dressed up, they were excited, they stayed put, they loved the food, they got to meet the chef!! – it was a long night for the littlest one.  Baby C, who will continue to be referred to as such until she actually stands up and starts walking which should be any day now, loves food but is really not a fan of being constrained in a highchair with only a spoon to play with.  I completely dropped the ball by not packing anything else for her to play with.  While this did save Mark from having to play a 90 minute game of  “Uh oh I dropped that.  Will you please pick it up Daddy?”.  It also resulted in her becoming bored.  Thankfully, she allowed Mark to distract her with people watching, And with a bedtime of 7pm but a dinner reservation of 6pm we were racing the clock as it was.  Except.  It’s kinda hard to race a clock in a busy restaurant serving three courses.  Three delicious, melt in your mouth, divine courses.  Three courses that they happily served up free to my children and as soon as they came off the line.  The last course being a scrumptious butterscotch pudding they put a candle in L’s birthday. 

I’m fairly certain, a multi-course meal at Le Bremner is going to take more than an hour.  Add to that, the fact that we will have been wandering around the old city all day, I doubt very much Baby C will take kindly to being strapped into a high chair after being strapped into a stroller (again – learn to walk!). I don’t want to race through a meal at Le Bremner.  I don’t want to watch Mark stalk off with Baby C under his arm, telling me “It’s fine.” When it really isn’t, as he has to abandon his meal and go back to our hotel in Montreal.  That would not be such a fabulous memory. 

So instead, we will lower our dining standards, not to accommodate their palate or but rather the temperament of our youngest because no one wants to drop serious coin on a meal they have to rush through.  Or, one I spill all over myself as not so little Baby C breastfeeds at the table.  On the other hand, Mark thinks maybe we'd get to meet the chef once word got around that I was flashing serious boob. 

A la prochaine Chef Chuck! 

Minor rituals, major pain in the...

My partner Mark has been a parent ten years longer then I have. And as a result his patience with certain rituals and routines of parenting is starting to wear thin. Don't get me wrong, he is a fully committed awesome Dad who just organized a freaking fabulous Robot themed birthday party for L. In fact, the extent to which he is a great dad leads me to whining on occasion that "one more wouldn't hurt". So not going to happen. Here is a list of "last time ever":

-maternity & newborn photo shoots. Mark has stated that he is far too old to be lying on the floor dressed all in black while trying to seduce the camera with his sultry good looks and look like a devoted daddy to be at the same time. He is also convinced that his forearm strength is weakening and if he had to balance one more baby in the "hanging tree branch" pose he would drop her.
-cleaning around a newborns umbilical cord stump. I think just the fact that he has to refer to something on his child as a stump adds to the look of mild revulsion on his face at the not so sweet smelling spot. Sidenote: he is a diaper changing dynamo and I rarely have to change a diaper when he's home. From day one. 

-incidentally he's biding his time to rip off the extra water resistant (read: baby pee catcher) cover on our mattress that makes it delightfully hot and extra difficult to put sheets on
-the dinner explosion. When our delightful girls eat, somehow 90% of their dinner ends up on the floor. We end up sweeping breadcrumbs even when there hasn't been a wheat product in the house.

-speaking of dinner, I'm fairly certain my partner would give up a minor digit or appendage for a dining room table in our...wait for it...dining room. Our dining room currently plays host to an all encompassing play area. Mark's deep resentment for this stems in the fact that there are toys in every room in he house but he can't even see me from where his seat is in the kitchen! So a dining room table where we could all sit and actually see each other is pretty f'n appealing.
-those f'n munsch books. The repetition. The redundancy. The idiot parents. The rude horrid children. I swear, there is a backyard bonfire in our future. Symbolic of course. He doesn't advocate book burning. But if he did, he'd use the starter fluid on that bear family book and throw the munsch ones on while jumping up and down gleefully
-And on a related note, constantly being interrupted, like every 3.7seconds when reading to his kids. By his kids.
-public bathrooms and snow suits
-oversized plastic crap pretending to be toys but are singing vehicles designed by grandmothers hoping to drive you insane so they can smother your kids and raise them better
-the zoo. He hates it.
-the diesel fuelled kiddie rides at the CNE
-public swimming pools and swimming lessons.( I'm not sure how he's going to get out if these until baby C is 14 and can bus it there.)Especially given that we have a pool so it's a life saving skill and also the only lesson they take. Mostly because we aren't millionaires but also because large crowds of parents incite rage in him that I get to deal with as "I'm fine! I'm not grumpy!" My understanding is this IS how introverts express their feelings. Particularly male ones. I admittedly don't like swimming lessons either, but for myself, because it means I have to shave my legs and not wax them. TMI, right? Sorry (not really).

In all fairness, I feel like I should reveal some of the rituals as a mama I can't wait to be done with ( and maybe this will help me get over wishing we could have more babies. We can't.):

-nipple biting. I don't care what Dr.Newman; Dr.Sears; and any other doctor, midwife, or lactation consultant has to say, babies do bite when they are nursing. Repeatedly, hard, despite all preventive and concurrent actions taken. With or without a full breast or fast or slow letdown. With of without your undivided attention. Repeatedly. In anger. Breaking skin! 

You know, after that one solid example, I feel like the rest fade in comparison to the threat of scarred boobs. 

Overhaul

I'm contemplating a major overhaul of my lifestyle. I can't go Paleo just yet but I need to rethink and find a different approach to the way I look at food and fitness.

To put it succinctly, I need to switch it around. I need to look at fitness, being active and healthy, as essential, as fun, and as fascinating. I need to apply what i know and what I read. I also need to not pay attention to food blogs, shows, tweets, articles, and books.

I might not be able to do it because cooking and feeding others yummy food is so much a part of me. I sometimes think it would be easier if I couldn't cook or didn't like to. But having the desire and to a lesser extent the skill, to cook what I see and what I want to eat, undermines my ability to accept a grilled chicken breast in a bed of arugula. Why not add some crispy pancetta, a soft poached egg, and some anchovies? Now that would make a good salad and pair perfectly with a bottle of wine followed by chocolate cake!

Somehow I need to tweak my thinking to look more like this: Hey! I have fifteen minutes, I should do some crunches and lunges and then eat a zero fat yogurt with 12 plain almonds and an orange.

My motivation is multi-fold (which by the way autocorrected as multi "food" so you see my problem!): I'm tired of wearing ill fitting clothes. I'm tired of being tired. I want to set a good example for my girls. I have a significant event coming up at the end of the summer and I don't want to be the most uncomfortable person in the room photoshopping all the pictures to show only my head. And mostly, while from a biochemical perspective I'm healthy; I dread becoming someone who has to see a doctor on a regular basis for unhealthy reasons in another five or ten years. I'd rather see my chiropractor and a massage therapist (and an aesthetician! Because I could use pedicures on a regular basis!!) to optimize my health.

So I'm not committing to anything just yet. But I can say while my Easter menu will prominently feature lamb; our table will also be laden with delicious veggies and maybe this year less cheese and chocolate. Maybe.

(It should go without saying my Mark loves me no matter whether I choose to make some changes or not. He makes me feel pretty fabulous.)

Happiness is health (a post I wrote to enter a blogger contest).

Happiness is health. I made a very conscious decision to enjoy my life and be grateful for what I have. For me, my emotional health is my priority. If I feel good then everything else falls into place. Or, it would if I had the time to clean and make space for it to fall. Napping with my baby, playing with my three year old and meal planning with my six year old all make me happy. I feel rested and emotionally connected when I've snuggled the baby. I feel fit and full of energy after chasing my three year old on her bike or playing Just Dance. And sharing healthy and decadent meals sith my family that I've planned and cooked with my oldest brings me utter joy. A glass of wine or freezer-cold Ciroc with my partner are nice too! It is all about moderation, and not at all about "balance" but rather capitalizing in pockets of time to get what needs to bedtime started even if it can't be completed.

It's a cliche but it is true: if you don't take care of yourself you can't take care of others. But I also like to take care of myself. I can't spend half a day at the spa for a massage and pedicure anymore but as a cook, I love to grocery shop. As an avid reader I love to browse books in store or online.eaching my girls that sometimes Mama needs a few minutes isn't telling them they are unimportant but teaching them to know when to take some "me"'time. And when I hear my six and three year olds say to each and and to me "I need to read (or play) by myself for a little bit." I know I'm doing the right thing.
Capitalize on those pockets of time! What can you get done in fifteen minutes while all three kids are occupied. Don't worry about the most important thing, don't worry about what someone else gets done in that time. I use my iPhone to write out reminders and lists at night just to get them out of head. That way I'm not paralyzed for the first few minutes trying to figure out what to do. And make sure yiu prioritize your children. You will regret it at night when things have finally quieted down if you don't.

Six Tips For A Cranky Cold Car

Apparently, it's a Canadian trait to talk about the weather. I'm not sure if it is or isn't but it is cold out there! I'm not a wimp about winter, but my truck was acting a but cowardly. And so I present a few tips courtesy of my Dad, a professional mechanic and man of little patience when it comes to lack of logic. So all of this should be fairly obvious.

1.Warm your car up. But not the inside. The point of starting up your car more then fourteen seconds before you pull out of the driveway is two fold and neither is about a warm tush. You want your engine running smoothly so it doesn't stall and you want your windows to stay defrosted. Which leads me to...

2. Turn the defrost function on for the front. Take care of the outside of the car. Then turn the back defrost on. Once you can see out the window, switch to heat but don't run everything at once. Unless you want it to stall.

3. I don't need to tell you to clear all the snow and ice off you car: top, middle, sides, bumpers, lights and most importantly under and on top of your wipers before you turn them on.

4. And let's jump ahead and state right now: turn your wipers, heater, defrost OFF before you shut your car off. You don't want all of that to turn on when you turn the key in -17. Because if it does start with your wipers on, that little piece if plastic is going to snap in the cold and the motor that controls it is going to burn out.

5. Don't even think about opening your windows while its this cold. You will hear a click, it won't open and you won't think about it. Meanwhile, the motor that controls it will be buzzing and running and burn out. Awesome. Not really.

6.If you can avoid it, don't lock your car. Auto locks, little button, click and...nothing. Much easier to open a slightly frozen door if it isn't locked.

7.Don't drive with your heels or slick soled shoes on. Key word "slick". You don't need your foot to slide off the accelerator or brake at the wrong time because of the slush and lack of grip. And along with this tip, use the winter mats in your car. No they aren't pretty but they help-just keep them as clean and dry as you can in between.

8. Give yourself lots of time and space. Leave with spare time or realize that your office won't fall apart without you there for ten more minutes. Keep ample space between you and the cars ahead of you. Drive cautiously but go with the flow of traffic. If you are too scared to drive at an adjusted speed, you probably shouldn't.

9. And to my midwifery friends-all of this applies doubly so to you! You are of no help to your clients if you wrap your car around a light post. Make sure your clients know to give you plenty of notice in the winter months and take a pillow. It is better to sleep on their couch then endanger yourself racing to get there.

That's all I can remember right now. Good luck, stay warm, drive safely.

Pockets of Time

I'm sitting here typing this from my phone as my netbook takes forever to start. This ongoing battle with my netbook spurred a discussion yesterday with another parent about trying to function within little pockets of time.

You see, it is not exclusively because I'm used to operating on my iPhone and so all other modes of technology seem snail paced. It is that when I only have fifteen minutes to check my work email because L is watching the one show I allow her watch a day and C is rolling around playing, then I can't lose five minutes to a reboot, motherfreakin' java update, ultimate windows explorer fail followed by Google Chrome being unresponsive. (Don't even tell me I should switch to a Mac! Because I really want an iPad but I'm not sure I can work off of one full time.)

But the bigger question is, why can't I-we-lose those five minutes? Is it instant gratification withdrawal? I don't think so. I think it is the parent in us.

Most of us are accustomed to taking super fast showers, peeing with the door half open, eating while standing, and cooking meals that we prepped during a precious pocket of time.

Those pockets of time need to be capitalized on! They cannot be wasted waiting for my netbook to wake up and not god or anyone can save my partner if he forgot to plug it in overnight to charge after staying up too late watching "YouTube".

Pockets of time must have been the motivator behind text messaging. Ever try to have a conversation on the phone while your child naps or plays? Exactly. Nothing says "I need mama/daddy" like a phone. But a text? I can take all day to respond to that!

And in my case, I work from home with only sporadic day care. i I need to be able to reply to a dozen emails in less time them it takes for the end credits to roll on Dinosaur Train or Sid the Science Kid. I need to fit an hour's work into the twenty minutes I have while C naps and L paints a picture. Because ultimately, the email has to wait. As parents, we are all too aware of the horrors that emerge if someone's sugar crashes mid-spreadsheet update. We have experienced the mid-project update interruption from an early nap wake up.

And we'd rather be hanging out with our kids. So these pockets of time become precious and when they are taken away by technology failures it is destructive to our entire plan! It feels like an insurmountable obstacle that makes me want to hurl my netbook across the room and cry.

So I guess the one benefit of the reboot nightmare is that I can fully and completely relate to my one and three year old. And if you are wondering why I don't spend pockets of time on myself, it is because last week when trying to workout on the Wii, C rolled over and bit my toe-just for fun.