Taking a moment

For a brief moment today I started to feel pressed for time. It was a bit of a surprise to me, this feeling that has been absent since I finished my last course in school back in December. During the school term I felt pressed for time constantly. Mark was on full time parent duty two or three days a week while he worked more then full time hours. And I had to do all the full time mama stuff while balancing two very intense courses and growing a baby. It would be an understatement to say that I felt like I was barely getting by. I don't think I spoke to a single non-school friend; and I struggled to find time to get everything I wanted to do done. And ended up learning to just get what I had to done!

So this afternoon as the long weekend started to draw to an end I was caught off guard at my feelings of frustration. I was trying to look for work online; I was checking my calendar for class registration info; I still needed to finish editing a paper and finally start an intimidating reading list for a certificate I am hoping to pursue. But Baby C had other ideas. Her next set of teeth are coming through and she is in a lot of pain. I can tell because her little mouth is pulled so tightly and she's biting everything! L and R wanted to tell me about everything they were doing or thinking and Mark was getting some much needed gardening done. I wanted my time!

But as I stroked my baby's hair,applied ointment to L's latest scraped knee and listened to R rave about how nice daddy had been to let her go swimming again making it the best holiday Monday ever!!- I knew that it wasn't resentment for not being able to find time that I was feeling. It was in fact, resentment for needing to do all of those things that were crowding out my enjoyment of my girls.

And so I give you three magical mama moments that I was truly blessed to have experienced this weekend:

I want to cherish forever that moment when Baby C startled in her sleep, eyes flying open and then a soft smile lit up her face when she saw I was still there and she settled into sleep again. All the while I listened to my big girls laugh and chase each other outside playing the most non-sensical games.

I want to never ever forget the pure bliss I experienced waking up from a rare Sunday afternoon nap with two girls still asleep wrapped around me, my biggest girl reading at my feet-her long legs resting in mine, and Mark squeezed into the last few spare inches in the bed also reading.

I want to remember splashing in the pool with Mark holding Baby C;R and L squealing with laughter as we chased each other in the water with squeaky spray toys. And their cheers of encouragement as I swam without a flotation device to the ladder in the deep end.

The long weekend is over and I have all week to try to get to my to-do list. But more importantly I am truly blessed to have all week to spend with my girls because Mark goes to work for us. I am a lucky lady!

The Rise and Fall of the School Routine. Is it summer yet?

R is an awesome kid.  She loves her sisters (and us!).  She loves to read.  She loves school.  But she is not a morning person (like both her parents), and has a hard time falling asleep at night (despite a screen-free, sugar –free, relaxed bedtime routine).  R has always needed a plan.  From as young as two, we would lie in bed and determine what our plan for the day was going to be.  So it’s somewhat surprising to me that she has become such a layabout in the mornings and completely scatterbrained after school.

Two weeks before school started in August, we started waking up, getting dressed, having breakfast and walking to/from school.  One week before school we started doing the same thing, but at a school-appropriate time.  It was a slow build to get into a good routine where no one was crying from hunger, frustration or fatigue at the end of the day but we did it.  Christmas break was a small blip.  Baby C’s birth another one, and March break a bigger blip.  But we always managed to rebound.  Until now.

Disaster struck once it started to stay full light well past 8pm.  We hung black curtains in their room.  We closed the door to prevent the light from the hallway coming in.   L still had boundless energy and was keeping her big sister awake so we tried separate  bedtimes, but that lead to tears.  So we started taking walks after dinner; that backfired as it lead to a second wind for both of them and a longer more drawn out getting for bed routine with mandatory showers as opposed to baths after school.  We are sticking strong to an 8pm bedtime but often R is awake until almost 9pm.  (Later if we allow some extra reading time for her because our sympathy as night owls kicks in.)  With the later and later falling asleep time, comes the harder to wake up R.  And when I do get her awake, she is grumpy. 

Lately, the routine has started to crumble:  Alarm goes off, I call into R’s room.  I gently pull sheet off her, I cajole and then firmly peel her out of bed.  She wanders around like she is suffering from a slight hangover and comes to me with a barrette but no comb, with hairspray but no pony-o.  This goes one for a while.   While I ensure the two other girls are ready to go downstairs, she is supposed to finish her upstairs routine.  But when I check in on her silently, she is usually sitting half dressed on her bedroom floor reading a book.  Am I the only parent on the planet that has to tell her kid to stop reading?  Probably.  I proceed with my morning and eventually R makes an appearance in the kitchen, sometimes with a prompt.  She then notices that she hasn’t packed her snacks and is very sweet, sincere, and apologetic about it and gets started on that, taking up to ten minutes to actually get a yogurt from the fridge into her lunch bag.  I just don’t have it in me to send her to school without a snack because she forgot or to let her go with messy hair.  But, at this point we’ve moved to “Fine, be late, lollygag if you must but you are still walking to school not driving.” 

I'm not going to stress out about it, or stress her out about it.  I grew up in a household where more often than not you went to school having cried.  I'm talking daily.  And while we all know that my mother thinks I'm the child from hell, I have very distinct memories of her yelling at my youngest sister every morning before school too. So it wasn't just me.  And while I've been know to raise my voice on more than one occasion, I generally keep things quiet and efficient in the morning with room or flexibility because I don't ever want to send my daughter to school all wound up from a stressful morning. 

Some of the ways we do this is that after many chats, Mark and I have a very distinct set of chores we need to get done by 6am.  Some of it may seem like catering to our girls i.e., setting the table for breakfast, but they are only just 3 and 6.  Also, if we don't get around to it, they will do it and will just as easily empty the dishwasher.  Having it done already, just makes things go smoother. I'm not making excuses for their age - they both have a lot of responsibility every morning and evening.  Things they need to do to get themselves ready and to help me out not the least of which is getting themselves ready, and getting their own cereal.  I also wake up much earlier than I would like in order to be dressed, and have caffeine in my system before the two older girls wake up.  But these are the things that need to happen to keep things as low stress for my girls as I can.  I really, really, really, don't want any of us to get upset in the morning and while I can't control every variable, and there are mornings when I lose my temper, or one of them loses theirs, or things just fall apart, the good mornings, the mornings where we listen to music, do "knee ups" while the eggs are cooking, R makes me breakfast, L runs around dancing, and baby C sits in her chair laughing far outweigh the hard ones.  

Three more weeks of school until we can take a break from the routine.  But come mid-August, I need a new plan on how to convince my child that she needs to get all her stuff done before she picks up a book to read or stops to play with her sisters from September all the way to the end of June.  I’ll ask for advice in the summer but for now, I want to know:  Do your kids fall off the school routine bandwagon?  Were they never on it?  Do they stick to for the duration?

Three Girls and a Budget

Last week Mark had a co-worker do a complete double-take when he found out that we have three kids and Mark has two older kids as well.  “Wow!  And your partner doesn’t work?  My wife and I can barely afford our one child.  She’s an investment banker and I pull in three figures.  But you, wow, five kids!?!?! ”  I’m paraphrasing here as I obviously wasn’t at the conversation; his wife could very well be a teacher not an investment banker and he might barely make over 100K.  Either way, they make more money than we do.  Which is important for my point here:  it’s all about the lifestyle decisions.

But before we get started, let's quickly cover two glaring issues. One, I do work, as a mama at home full time, as a student midwife, and as a consultant whenever I can.  Two, obviously, if all five of the kids lived in the same house it would be cheaper, and I'd have a much happier Mark.  And I could - and probably will - write about both things at some point.  But back to our budget choices:


We moved out of the sketchy part of a cool neighbourhood in downtown Toronto to buy a house in the suburbs.  Not a big house.  Not even a real house according to Annette Benning’s character in American Beauty, as well as my mother-in-law and Mark’s aunt.  But the price tag on the house was about half of a place in our old ‘hood.  Do we miss being able to walk to St.Lawrence Market, a movie theatres, brunch spots, work, university…you know, everywhere?  Sure.  Do we lament that our mortgage is the same as most people’s rent?  Not so much.  Or, at all.

We buy our furniture from Ikea.  Sure, unique pieces, or you know, furniture we don’t have to assemble and then tighten bi-annually with an allen key, would be fabulous.

We have a Wii Fit (courtesy of Optimum points), a front yard, a pool (came with the house), two parks in the ‘hood, bikes, jump ropes, hula hoops, and second hand skates.  And we walk to and from school.  By this I mean, our girls aren’t registered for multiple teams and lessons to get their 60 minutes of activity a day.  Yes, I’d love for R to play soccer and L to take gymnastics but it really wasn’t in the budget this year.  And at three, L has no idea what she’s missing out on.  R feels it a little bit, for about five minutes whenever a classmate mentions their soccer team.  But that’s five minutes a week so she’ll live.

I believe the saying is “Go big or go home.”  So we do just that for birthdays.  R just had a birthday and we spent about $50 on food (homemade sliders, homemade chocolate cupcakes, watermelon and lemonade), decorations, and craft supplies.  Her friends ran around the yard playing tag, drew on the sidewalk, painted pots, and planted seeds.  Mark’s aforementioned coworker spend 10x that much on his child’s party.

We don’t take vacations.  At least not very often. Mark had stipulated that I had to pay for any vacations we took.  So I basically drank and cooked my way Montreal as the tickets were purchased using Air Miles earned primarily at the LCBO and less so at Metro.  Our hotel was on the last of our Aeroplan and was not a boutique hotel.  We didn’t pay the upgrade to first class.  We didn’t go for three-course fondue which our girls would have loved.  We didn’t take the carriage ride through Vieux Montreal.  We didn’t eat at Garde Manger which broke all of our hearts.  We didn’t get room service, or movies (that’s what the laptop was for). We didn’t even get the cute Canadiens jersey in pink (And by we, I mean, “me” on this one.).

We don’t buy organic and I can’t support the little guy.  This is probably the most contentious thing I’m saying.  And I’m not suggesting that the health of my girls is worth less than anything else.  Their physical and emotional well-being is our number one priority.  But organic milk is more than twice the price of regular milk.  Organic beef, lamb, or chicken is triple the cost.  And the research, the actual academic research, does not support the need for me to spend exorbitant amounts of money on small amounts of food that isn’t regulated to the high standards it needs to be.  So we buy our groceries from No Frills and Costco. 

We are not solid examples of how to budget well, we try, but we have some weak spots :

I turn the air conditioning on as soon as the thermostat hits 30 outside.  It’s an indulgence but it keeps me from acting crazy so win-win.

My girls and I spend a portion of our grocery budget at the farmers’ market twice a month from May to October.  Doesn’t seem harmful except we normally eat everything we bought by Monday morning.  Hence, we only go every other week, or our food bill would double.

We buy R brand name, sturdy kids shoes because they have to get through two other sets of feet.  But all three girls generally sport the latest in Joe Fresh, Old Navy, and whatever brand Costco is carrying because we don’t buy very many pieces and after weekly washing, and given different body types(not style/fashion) not all of the clothes are going to survive the duration.

We have cable and Netflix.  I am the first to agree that cable is extremely hard to justify EXCEPT that I negotiated with the provider and our cable bill is – wait for it - $10/month.  When that deal expires so does our cable.  And in the interim, our girls still don’t know we have cable and therefore watch very little actual TV.  Food shows, Justice League, and Avengers excepted of course.  Netflix, personally I think is a bit of a waste of coin in my opinion but as Mark points out we don’t go to the cinema, or concerts, or shows, or the bar so…yeah.

You get the point.  Money is tight.  But you make your choices.  We like food so we spend a bit more money on groceries.  We like to spend time with our friends so we invite them over for food, we cook and they bring the wine.  Also, we accept gifts of wine or any hard spirit for random occasions such as Simcoe Day, Labour Day, the day after any family get together…

What do you “give up” to save money and where do you “spurlge”?

That Kid at the Party

If this feels a bit rant-y, it’s purely unintentional.  Just another random observation in the life of a suburban mama.

We recently went to a toddler’s birthday party.  We had fun.  Our girls had fun. Our hosts were the epitome of gracious, funny, laid back, and patient.  Wow, were they ever patient especially in the presence of "that kid".  

Let's first quickly review who "that kid" could be:

-sulky kid who makes everyone miserable

-boisterous/distruptive school ager who jumps on and off your furniture rampaging through your house

-snobby kid who doesn't want to play or interact with the host's kids

-center of the universe kid who is generally appalled when the host doesn't think so too

-hippie young kid with no sense of rules or boundaries

-needy kid who has to constantly interact with adult host or generally needs to get their own way

The last example was at the party we went to.  And I mean, seriously, had it been me, I would have at minimum rolled my eyes, or pretended not to hear.  Well, let’s be honest, had it been me, I wouldn’t have allowed an eight (ten?) year old neighbour to attend without her parents.  Because as I said, it was a toddler’s birthday party which translates to lots of doting relatives, and friends of the parents and their kids.  None of our host’s kids are the age of the needy kid in question.  Obviously the party's hosts are much, much nicer than me  - and no, I'm not being sarcastic, they really are.  But, I’ll describe the sitch that would have had me white knuckling the chair while tersely smiling and you think about what you would do:

Girl:  Someone stole my shoe can you help me find it?

Host: Wow!  That’s crazy.  It’s gotta be out there honey.  (While feeding birthday girl, making introductions, and assessing the rain versus bouncy castle situation).

Girl:  But I need my shoe.  Someone stole it.  Can you get it? Maybe everyone should come in because it’s raining.  I’ll go get them.

Host:  No, the castle is covered, they’ll be fine. (Still feeding birthday girl, offering drinks to adult guests, and engaging in other conversations).

Girl:  Well can you help me climb back into the castle then?

(Me, silently:  Seriously?!!!?  Seriously?! Where are your parents?!)

Later on:

Girl:  I think the baby is ready for cake.  Can you cut the cake?

Host:  It’s still frozen honey; we need to wait ten minutes.

Girl:  Well, what time is it?  I have to go home at 6:30pm.

Host:  We could try to cut the cake but it probably won’t work.  Why don’t you go play and I’ll call everyone when it’s ready?

Girl:  Awwwwwww.  Pleeeeeaseee?  You should cut the cake now.

(At which point, I interject mentioning how the it will just be frustrating for everyone if we try to cut a frozen solid ice cream cake before it’s ready.  I am totally ignored by girl.  No offense taken as she really wasn’t talking to me. )

Host:  I’m happy to send a piece home for you and your sister if you miss the cake cutting.

Someone else:  Where is your sister?

Girl:  She’s at home with the babysitter.

(Me, silently:  And there you have it!)

When finally cake cutting time arrives, Girl plants herself directly beside the birthday girl and despite repeated very pleasant requests with explanation, continues to interfere with the highly anticipated, photographed, recorded, cupcake smashing and exploration.  I’m willing to bet money there are several photos that are going to have to be cropped to keep this non-relative out of the family pics. 

If that had been me, two things would  have happened.  One, I would have staged an earlier in the day cupcake smashing to capture on film.  And two, I would have physically removed that kid from the general vicinity.  I’d like to think I would have assigned her some knd of responsibility like handing out napkins or something bt I doubt it.  I would have just seen red at someone interfering in my kid’s birthday cake and...oh  wait, had it been me, that kid probably would have been sulking in a corner from my letting her know she was being a pain in the butt from earlier in the evening.  And that folks is why I’m never going to be the favourite mama amongst my girls’ friends.  I’ll be their favourite mama – most of the time – and that’s totally fine with me. 

Ok, but here’s the thing.  How do I keep my girls from becoming THAT girl?  R is super helpful and used to adults treating her as the more responsible kid of the group.  But as most 4-6 year olds (and older?) she becomes fixated on things and pouty when she doesn’t get her way.  Neither of which is tolerated here so hopefully that helps.  Let’s be totally clear.  R is a gracious guest, plays well with others, mostly uses her manners, and cleans up after herself.  I just honestly don’t think the girl at the party had any idea she was being a pain in the butt and that her opinion on when the cake should be cut wasn’t wanted or more accurately, wasn’t needed.  

Ultimately, I just felt badly for her.  The girl has a younger sister, a nice mom whom I've met, dad is around, grandmother who is lovely.  But clearly, she was either feeling needy or used to getting her own way or both; and her time limit was stressing her out. Also, being eight or so, she had no idea her ants and needs were imposing on the host.  But isn't that why your parent should be there?  This wasn't the party of a peer, she was out of place at the party through no fault of her own. And I've seen this happen to R when she was four and more introverted.  We were at a big gathering of families that were all new to her so I stuck close and we kept our attendance short.

Mark and I have been to other parties with lots of kids ranging in age in attendance and there you will find either the sulky teenagers or the dramatic ones who feel like they are your peer and dominate all of the conversations.  I’m talking about the older tween/barely teen contingent.  We’ve also encountered kids in that group who play with our girls and we wish lived closer to babysit, or who smilel politely whenever they look up from the book they are reading or show they are watching not on full blast.  Fingers crossed – my girls end up in the latter groupings.  I’m just wondering if there is any way to ensure that?  Other than of course, to be present at family oriented parties with them and not bring them to the parties of our peers unless they are specifically invited.

Other thoughts or suggestions?  Have you ever encountered "that kid" at one of your own parties?  Which type?  (We've encountered a few!) Whaddya do? 

The cooking show

Yesterday, L hollers from the living room where baby C is lying beside her, “Mama, come quick!”  I dash into the living room assuming a minor baby sister vs.little big sister crisis “What’s up?” I ask.  “Chuck is on! Sit down with me! Ummm, yumm, he’s making creamed spinach, I like spinach!”  That’d be Chuck Hughes, from Chuck’s Day Off, and a Montreal restaurant we tried to go to last spring but it was closed much to the heartbreak of my five year old.  So if Chuck ever reads this, perhaps, he can give us a call, and let us know what the hours are so I can bring my escargot eating, French-rack of lamb-requesting, gianduja cake-making children for dinner.  When I relayed this anecdote to my partner, he wasn't particularly surprised; nor was he surprised when I told him R had also watched Chuck and now wants me to make her a tempura runny egg.

This situation is not unusual in our house.  My girls and I are constantly watching one or the other of our favourite food shows and then recreating the meals.  It's been this way since I was pregnant with R and had a few weeks off work before I gave birth.  I’d watch cooking shows, walk to the market and buy the ingredient for one or more dishes I’d just seen made and go home and cook.  Rather than stop, this “habit” grew when I became a mama. Because all of a sudden, I didn’t just have a hungry audience (Mark) , I had a rapt audience member (R).  I recently confessed to my girls that I often pretend I’m hosting a cooking show while I’m cooking.  And as a mama of girls that love to help me cook or bake and enjoy food as much as I do, they completely understand. Well, that, and they are 3 and almost 6, so pretending to cook for a panel of judges or an audience, comes naturally to them.  But, I digress. 

So, yes, I have a running narrative mostly in my head but often out loud, as I prep and cook.  I rarely cook anything fancy anymore and based on my presentation alone never mind my rule breaking) I would definitely be told to “please pack my knives and go.”  But, here, in my home, I am a top chef mama.  My girls will try anything once.  Often more than once.  They have been my prep cooks since they could pull the leaves off a sprig of rosemary.  They are highly opinionated on what should be eaten with what; they live for the farmer’s market and grocery shopping in general, and have been known to eat a lunch of artisan bread dipped in olive oil, aged balsamic vinegar and a hunk of stinky cheese just as easily as they slurp up pasta puntanesca, dig into tongue curry, lentils, and basmati rice, or chow down on lamb burgers with a boursin centre topped with a tomato confit.  Don’t get me wrong, there are days they start randomly picking carmelized onions out of their dish, and take grimacing sips of roasted red pepper-tomato soup.  But unlike a top chef, I don’t have to take the criticism, and here at home, the judges can pack their plates and starve or hunker down and eat it.

Who do you cook for?  

About me: Not so urban, but still a goddess

Way back, when I was twenty, I started working at a bead store in Bloor West Village.  I knew nothing about making jewellery but I loved the idea of working in little store, being sort of artistic, and sipping coffee.  I actually became quite...handy?...at making basic wire jewellery and would spend my Saturdays off with my friends from the other bead store location, shopping for beads!  All this to say, I fancied myself a bit of an entrepreneur and made jewellery to sell and created the label “urban goddess”.

A few years later, my love of matching colours and wishing I had more artistic talent, took the form of taking some make up art classes, quitting my under-paid corporate consulting job (I swear, I’m the only person I know who made more money working for a non-profit then I did as a  “consultant”!) and deciding I wanted to be a makeup artist.  Under the same name.  I even purchased the domain name, and had business cards designed while I worked in a non-profit and did makeup for weddings and charity fashion shows.

And then I had a baby.  And I truly felt like a goddess.  Talk about a goddess-like power:  I helped create a whole little girl and now I was blessed with the privilege of being loved by her and loving her; of being depended upon by her and, let’s be honest, depending on her in a certain way.  From the beginning my  daughter and I were totally urban!  We walked everywhere, we lived in non-air conditioned co-op apartment, we had over-priced gourmet sandwiches for lunch from the distilleries, she came to brunch with us every Sunday at non-chain restaurants, and we bought groceries at St.Lawerence Market.  I then figured I should channel my love of cooking into some sort of business venture for other urban goddesses. (More on that at another time I think).

Now we live in the suburbs, not just any suburban neighbourhood, but the very one I grew up in and spent years trying to move out of so I could live downtown.  (I never did live on, or even slightly off, Queen West).  Not only that, but I’m now forced to commute to a university that I used to live walking distance from.  But trust me when I tell you, that’s one of the very few things I miss about my former urban digs.  My suburban home is filled with the laughter of three little girls.  We have a pool (it came with the house), central air conditioning (key to keeping this humidity despising mama sane), a Costco membership (I secretly love this place!) and a cross-over because if there was one stand I was going to take it was that I would not, I repeat NOT become another brown suburban mom driving a minivan! 

Not so urban anymore.  But still a goddess in the eyes of my three girls, my partner, and most of the time, myself.    Hence, the urban goddess became the suburban mama goddess.  And that’s what I’ll write about, hopefully. 

Are you like me, an urban goddess turned suburban mama goddess?  Or do the suburbs represent a foreign land you visit occasionally before fleeing home?