Crap

I started a new blog...it's called Parenting isn't for sissies. I didn't mean to. I meant to log on here and post it here. Crap.

So yeah...c'est la vie Iguess. I'll keep them both. But probably post on the pretty one more! LOL

Changes, changes, Changes

Stupid changes. Always changes. Sheesh. Just as I get used to things a certain way, it's time to change.

Of course, some changes are good changes. For instance, I need to change my diet. I've been working on me, and changing a few things, thinking a bit before I speak, slowing down, taking time for myself, those kinds of things. However, now I need to lose weight.

Oddly enough, I don't feel fat. I AM fat, make no mistake, but I don't feel fat. I feel out of shape, that's for sure. I'd love to be able to keep up with the kids more. And the kids. I need to change for the kids. I know "they" say that you shouldn't lose weight for anyone else, but my kids are important to me. I want to be around in 40 years. I think that's reasonable.

So. What do these changes mean? Well, not snacking at night for one. Seriously. I'm SO bad for that. I get bored watching "Greys Anatomy" and I need to eat...or wait. I don't "need" to eat. I want to eat. I like to eat. I like chips. I REALLY like chips. I take too much at dinner time. That needs to change. I need to eat more veggies (isn't that everyone's problem sometimes?). I need to be more focused and thinking about what I'm eating.

Exercise. Man. That's not easy right now. A baby, a three year old and freakin deep winter weather. Good luck there. However, I'm starting to look into other ways I can get some exercise and still manage to have the kids around somewhere safe, without freezing off appendages. Their's or mine. The gym I go to has childcare, but I need to pay that bill first. Then I can go back. Or at least, that's the plan. I'm up in the morning anyway. Why not go to the gym after dropping off Logan. Seriously. Drop Logan off at school, take Olivia and Grady and go to the gym. Get some me time and get a workout.

Those are the two main problems. But they are not out of reach.

Mentally, I'm doing alright. I'm on medication, but whatever, if I need it, I need it. And it helps. For sure. It's alot quieter in my head, as odd as that sounds. I'm pretty sure that if some people spent anytime in my brain and realized how much goes through it, normal or not, then they'd be exhausted. Sometimes, it's a neverending diatribe, and considering how much I talk sometimes, that's saying something. It's a wonder I don't annoy myself. In order to combat some of those mental issues I've been seeing a counsellor. She's wonderful and I really have connected with her. She has wonderful ways of expressing things and thankfully, she understands where I'm coming from. I like that. Sometimes, it's hard to find people who understand me, or even who want to understand me. I've also learned alot about myself. She lets me ramble just so I can work things out, and often, I just need a sounding board. But lately, I'm rather enjoying the fact that she's had lots of strategies to help me through some of the thoughts I have.

My family doc has been extremely understanding and supportive. I went to see her on Tuesday and she ran a bunch of tests to make sure I'm not diabetic, pregnant or any of those things. If I'm diabetic, that's a bridge I'll cross when I come to it, but I wanted to make sure so that I didn't go to the gym having not eaten something I should have and then pass out on the floor because I didn't pay attention to my body. I need to be a bit more in touch with my body. Like I said, I'm fat. I don't FEEL fat, but I'm fat. I'm looking old, tired and worn down. I don't like that. I don't really FEEL that way all the time, but I LOOK that way all the time. So it was time to see the doctor, rule out any health issues and then I can safely start a good regime that will help me become healthier. Inside and outside. I doubt that all the counselling in the world will help if I don't feel good about the outside as well.

The kids are awesome. We've had alot of illnesses and crap, but really, they are such wonderful kids. Logan is smart, learning so fast and very well liked. He's happy, growing and healthy. I can't ask for more. He's articulate, fun to be with and easy to talk to. Olivia's a girl, she's three and she's a princess. She has tantrums, but I've learned to deal with those as effectively as I can. But she's so smart, articulate and funny. I always enjoy the funny things that come out of her mouth and I laugh almost daily because of her, even on her worst days. Grady's a joy. He's congenial, friendly and always smiling. He cries when he's hungry or tired. It's just so fun. We didn't even know he was teething but he sprouted two teeth! Awesome baby...just awesome. I couldn't ask for more. Three marvellous kids who are just the best.

And Jeff. Jeff's just the best husband. He helps me so much around here. He's such a hardworker and dedicated to us. He makes sure that we have what we need. It's great! He's even gone above and beyond...in a big way. I'm so happy with him. We have our "issues" but we're pretty good at working them out, in whatever way we need to.

So. If I want to keep this content feeling, this wonderful family and improve my health, then it's time. Just a note though. This is NOT a new year's resolution. I'm sure people read this and thinkg "Yeah yeah yeah" but it's not. These are things that have been on my mind for several months, but with all the illnesses, new baby and such, it's been difficult to implement these changes. Besides, why would I do it to myself at Christmas? I sort of had to do that last year and it sucked. I might as well have enjoyed my holiday season instead of thinking "Should I eat that?" LOL

Time for change. As usual. Again. At least this is a positive change...

New Year... New What Now?

I suppose I could start this...again. I'm not good at keeping up though. What can I say? I'm lazy.

Okay. Maybe not lazy. I have three kids, aged 6 years, 3 years and 7 months. I'm busy and I'm tired. I'm learning to love myself, even my foibles and that's definitely not easy. I don't do the workout thing well, although I've tried, and want to try again. I don't eat as well as I should, but I eat well enough. I'm overweight, but that can be fixed, thankfully. I live alone 2 weeks and then have my husband home for 2 weeks. I worry like a madwoman, but I'm working on that, through medication and counselling. Thank God for counselling.

So now what? I'm working through depression and anxiety. Some of it is loneliness at being alone so often, but I can handle that fine. I work hard when he's gone. I'm questioning what I'm going to do after Grady gets older. Is there something that I should/could/would do? I have lots of ideas. But never really any firm answers.

One is my photography. I could do that. I could be really good at it and make money at it. It seems though that there are so many photographers and the competition is ridiculous. I know plenty of them. I'm as good as them, or rather, I have the potential to be as good as them, but I don't really want to compete.

I've thought of working with kids. Specifically, children with special needs. Since Logan started school last year, I noticed that I really like kids. As long as it's temporary. And during our playgroup outings, I spoke to many mothers and workers with children with special needs. It's fascinating and also really inspiring. It also makes me so incredibly thankful for my preciocious and extremely able bodied children.

What about psychology? I love people. I love to know what makes them tick. I love to help people, and would like to be able to guide people in their lives and helping them make the choices that could make their lives better.

What about combining two of them. Child psychology? Who knows? That could be INCREDIBLY interesting and highly fulfilling.

So yeah...New year, what now? I guess it's time to answer some questions. I won't use the word resolution because those are too easy to break. I want this year to be better for me. I want this to be a year for me. I want to take the time to take care of me, so that I can be better at taking care of the people who are most important to me.

So, I will continue to take my meds. I will keep seeing my counsellor, even if it doesn't neccesarily seem like I need it. I will try to eat better. I will try to get out more and get to the gym. I will try to help my husband save money so that we can get a house in the near future. I will try. That's the best I can do, and that's all anyone asks for.

So...a new year... A new time to try. Maybe even keep up this blog. Who knows? It could be fun!

So So SO Tired.

So yeah. I'm tired. Really tired. Bowl me over with a light wind tired.

But, it's a "good" tired. I don't really want to post the actual reasons for my exhaustion, but I believe that "everyone" who reads this blog know what's going on.

It's just that with the kids, it makes it difficult to cope with the exhaustion. The kids are good though. They don't argue too much about an afternoon nap, and Olivia will even let me lay down for an hour in the morning after we drop off Logan to school. So I've been resting. Just trying to keep myself from passing out in the grocery store or something embrassing! *hee hee hee*

Anyway, I'm hoping to "officially" post it all soon. Got to do a few things first before it's "official", and then I'm sure I'll blog regularily again!

I just needed to vent! :)

Shevaun

She's Going To Be Two

My little girl is going to be two. My sweet angelic cherubic doll will be two on Wednesday.

And I'm petrified!

She's a doll. She's a sweet little girl, who says "please" and "thank you" with little nudging. She makes "funny noises" and sweetly says "excuse me". She loves her dollies, she loves her brother and she loves her daddy. She's our little cuddlebug. Our Piglet...our girl. She's all I could ask for in a sweet little girl.

Until she's angry. And Holy Mother of Pearl, do we ever hear about it. That sweet little angelic, cherubic face scrunches up, gets red like a tomato and her eyes go wide and she lets it rip.

Seriously? This is my angel? My doll, my princess?

Yes, indeedy. It is. And we are entering the "terrible Two's" with a vengence.

With Logan, we never experienced the "terrible Two's". We found out what "real" toddlers were like when he hit the "terrifying Threes". God. Boys at three...Whoa. Not fun.

Girls at two...whoa. Not fun.

My daughter is a very independent (I want to get my own yogurt!) very opinionated (I don't wike that!) and very bossy (NO! Don't cook the steak Mommy!) little girl with a heart of gold and the emotional range of Meryl Streep. This kid can go from happy, laughing little girl to tantruming, foot stomping rage-a-holic and then back to the sweet little girl in about thirty seconds. I am thinking "Drama Queen" barely covers it. "Princess" is often high on our list of titles for her.

No. This isn't anything new. This is who she is, who's she's been since the start. I'm just finding that she's more capable of freaking out over the smallest things in a very quick period of time, more frequently. Ahhh...two. What a magical time.

The qualities I see in her, empathy, independence, opinionated, friendly, happy, sweet, and yes, even bossy, will serve her well in her future I hope. She's a truly empathetic little girl, who doesn't like to see people hurt or crying. It bugs her greatly. Her independence has been proven time and time again and has proven to be a great thing for her. She can be a little bit shy at times, but her curiosity and independence comes up and things get better. Her opinions and bossiness I could do without right now, but as she gets older, she needs to learn to assert herself. Pray I can teach her to assert herself a with a little more tact than her daddy.

She loves big, plays big and just in general is bigger than life.

Her intelligence staggers me on a regular basis. A normal conversation (yes...I have conversations with my two year old) can go something like:

"Where's the kitty?"

"I don't know. Where is the kitty?"

"Probably in the basement."

Or she asks me what something is in a book, tells me about a bird she sees or hears, or does more like me and chatters like no one's listening. She asked me about what something was in a book and I said "It's a constellation. Can you say constellation."

With very little thinking, she looks at the book and says "Constellation." My dad heard her today repeat constellation, cosmonaut, astronaut and reccommended. I'm guessing these aren't normal words for a two year old. But she says them so you can understand them. She's been speaking three and four word sentences since she was 14/15 months old, rarely if ever grunts or points for an object and is usually quite clear in her choices.

I love my daughter so much. She looks at me and smiles and I just can't help but smile back. She's such a sweet little cutie with her beautiful blonde curls and her big blue eyes. I think that's what makes it so easy to "forgive" her bossiness. She does it with such authority but is so cute, it's hard to be angry. I do try to nip it in the bud, but ... well. Just but. You'd have to experience it to understand.

When I had Logan, and I fell so madly in love with him, I couldn't imagine that there could POSSIBLY be anymore space in my heart. I guess I knew there could be, if there had to be, but I didn't realize just how much bigger my heart would become with the birth of a little girl who we tried so hard to have, not knowing what we were getting ourselves into.

For the past two years, Olivia has given me more joy than I could have ever expected. Logan and Olivia together are my perfect pair. They play together, they love each other and hopefully one day they will be great friends together. Even though we had tried and tried after Logan, with little success until the medication, I realized and understood something:

Children are given to us at time when we need them.

Logan helped us to move forward in our lives, giving us a reason to do the things we were destined to do.

Olivia helped me be a better woman, by making me understand that one day, she is going to look to me to help her become the woman I hope she will become. I am her strongest role model, her greatest ally and one day I hope we will be the best of friends. Until then, I am mommy to a remarkable little girl filled with more potential in her little finger than I could have ever hoped for in my entire body.

Happy Birthday my Little Princess! Here's to many more years together, through laughter and tears, joy and sadness, love and loss, and everything else in between! I love you more than you will ever understand!

Life is good!

Gravity Sucks

So in recent days, I've had a few interesting situations.

The other day, after the diaper fell off Olivia's bum, the two of them decided to play "Hairdresser". I didn't realize that it meant that they were actually using real hair product.

I was sitting at the table at dinner and I looked at Logan and asked him, "Why does your hair look wet?"

"It's not wet."

"Yes it is. I can tell. The top of your hair is flat."

"Oh, well it's not wet."

And I left it at that. I didn't really understand why he was arguing, I could plainly see it was "wet".

A little after dinner, I smell something not unpleasant, but familiar, and look up on the first landing of our stairs to find Olivia playing with my hair mousse. Okay. Mystery solved. It wasn't wet, it was slicked down with hair mousse. *sigh*

A couple hours later, I was outside having a conversation with my neighbour over our fence. I hear "HI MOMMY!"

I look up to find Logan standing IN his window. As in ON his window sill. Uh...

His room is on the second floor, with nothing below but concrete to stop his fall. *HEART ATTACK CITY!!!* NOW, I had placed a plank in his window because alot of evenings in the summertime, the kids that live on the other side of us will stand outside of our yard and yell Logan's name. If his window is open all the way, he will yell back. SO the window was only open about two to three inches. Not enough for him to fall through the screen, but as I was talking to my neighbour, she informed me that he'd been in the window before................ Oh heavens.

I go upstairs after it sort of sinks in, to discuss with my son the reasons WHY this is so bad. I start to cry, because frankly, all I can picture is my little boy, falling from his window. The results of which could be death. Perhaps not, but I mean, the injuries would be pretty greivous at best.

I tell him about who would miss him, mommy, daddy, Olivia, grandmas and grandpas, uncles and aunts, friends, etc. I tell him how he wouldn't be able to see us anymore. There'd be no more Logan. Totally broke my heart to even say it, but Logan's not the type of kid you say "Don't do that!" and he stops. He needs a bit more convincing.

I go up there a little while later, only to CATCH HIM IN HIS WINDOW AGAIN!! OMG!! So I break out the big guns. Please don't judge me for what I'm about to say. I was grasping at straws at this point, trying to get it to my son WHY this is such a bad idea.

I said to him "Do you remember when Tristan died?" (Tristan was our dog until Logan was 2 1/2. Unbelieveably enough, he remembers this and mentions it frequently to various individuals)

He nods.

"Okay then. If you fall out of your window, it will be like that. They will take you to the hospital and you won't be coming home."

That made something click. But in doing so, I made him cry. Man...I'm a jerk. But I can't feel bad about it. I need to get it across to him. I take away the ladder to his bed, to keep him from climbing. Turns out, he doesn't need the ladder. He just climbs up the side of his bed, uses the window sill, then gets what he wants out of his bed. Monkey child...great. I always wanted one of those........

I question if perhaps we should look into gymnastics. I mean, why not? But then, he'd LEARN how to climb. BUT maybe if we used it like Karate, where it's told to people that you only use in self defense, not for any other reason...maybe. Just maybe, another adult's voice in his head saying "You only do gymnastics in the gym." might click. It's crazy enough to work!

Next day, he's outside playing. I know the neighbour kids are outside. I bet you're asking,

"Why doesn't she let Logan play with the neighbour kids?"

I have plenty of reasons, I won't go into them now, but there are plenty of issues regarding this family. I've had to call the police more than once about them, and I don't want to be mixed up with this family. And I won't let my five year old run around the streets by himself. No way. The little girl in question is his age, we live on a bus route and she's frequently out on her own, with no adult supervision more often than not. I refuse to allow my child to be out there on his own. He's like a beagle. His nose would hit the ground, his curiosity would flare and he'd wind up 5 kms away from home. And that's just ONE of the reasons. I think that alone is JUST FINE!

Anyway, she was outside the yard, talking to him. I could hear them. I had come into the house for a few minutes (I have two windows facing my postage stamp yard. It's not like I can't see them) and when I came back outside, he was STANDING ON THE MAILBOX! Okay. I own a monkey for a child. Back to discussing head injuries with him, informing him about how bad he could hurt himself. How much he could lose from a head injury and that's worst case. Best case, he'd sprain or break a bone. Still not a good option!

It was an incredibly trying 24 hours. Since then, my daughter's diaper has fallen off AGAIN, both Logan and Olivia have each fallen down at least one set of the stairs (I have three landings and each set of stairs is only four to five carpeted stairs. It's not so bad). Olivia fell down at the park and scraped her knee and "required" a Dora bandaid. My children are bruised, battered and beaten in the leg area. I almost just want to put pants on them just so people don't think I beat them!

And so I say this with absolute authority...

GRAVITY SUCKS!!

Potty Training?

So I've been changing diapers for the past five years. I'm pretty good at it now. Just about a pro. I can change a diaper anywhere, any kind. I've actually gone to change Olivia's diaper in the mall here and found out that **GASP** there were no diapers in the diaper bag. That was harsh. Thankfully, we were in a mall, close to a Shoppers Drug Mart. Too bad the lady in front of me had to count each piece of change she had then aruge about the price of something. **SIGH** That left me in a bad spot, hoping that my daughter was sitting diaperless with my friends and didn't make a nasty mess in them. Then I'd have to buy new pants, cause I didn't have those in the bag either.

Anyway, now here we are, one month shy of 2 and Olivia's starting to become intersted in potties and peeing in them. Has she yet? Nope. But Logan yells out "I have to go pee!!" And Olivia repeats "I have to go pee too!!" And then screams blue murder when he closes the door.

I went to Ikea, because on a hot tip, one of the ladies at one of my playgroups let me know that I can get potties for 3.00!! THREE DOLLARS!! I'm not kidding. So I bought two. They are solid plastic, no little cup to pee around, so easier to clean up! I was so excited. We brought the potties home and Olivia wears them on her head (as she wears it, she yells "BUCKET HEAD!!"), falls off of them, plays on them, but at least she's paying attention to them.

Today, she came downstairs, and I noticed that her new diaper was hanging out of the shorts of her pj's. I said, "Olivia, your diaper's falling off!!"

"Take it off! Take diapee off!" (she doesn't say -er yet. Everything with -er is -ee. We don't encourage it, it just is how she says things.)

So I took the diaper off and realized this was a great opportunity to try the potty. I have one downstairs, one upstairs. She took the one in the living room, sat on it for about 10 seconds, got off and then picked it up. Thank heaven's she didn't pee in it. She tipped it over her head and proceeded to carry it around. Then she found out when you dropped it, it bounces, sometimes back to the way it should be! It became a game of tossing the potty....great.

I asked her if she wanted to wear her princess panties (Disney Princesses are popular) or a diaper. She said panties. So Logan went upstairs, got her three or four pair and I put her in a pair of white Ariel panties. I said,

"When you have to pee, sit on the potty!"

She sat on the potty and Logan decided that she needed to take her panties off, and it wound up being a chase to get her panties off...<> When the chase was over because I said "STOP! You're going to knock her down!" she sat up in our big comfy chair, then wandered over to me about two seconds later and says,

"I peed."