We have had a household of sick people this last week - varying degrees of sickness, but sick nonetheless.
Chloe started it all with a stomach virus that she was kind enough to share with me.
Then Scott decided that he should get the worst migraine known to man and be hospitalized for three days while the doctors ruled out diagnosis after diagnosis, including my personal favourite: brain hemorrhage. Let me tell ya, there is nothing like getting a phone call at 9:45PM from your husband and him saying: "They just did a lumbar puncture and now they have to send me for an MRI because there was blood in it. They think I might be hemorrhaging from my brain. I love you."
I sat up most of the night waiting to hear from him, but the doctors had him too sedated trying to control his pain and nausea. Finally at 5:00AM I called the hospital and was relieved to find out that he had been admitted, that there was no hemorrhaging and that they were trying to rule out viral meningitis.
The whole experience has put a new meaning to the season of Thanksgiving.
The past few days I have been watching Scott with new eyes, and loving him with a renewed heart. I feel so blessed to have such a wonderful, caring, and compassionate man in my life. I've even stopped nagging him about the popsicle wrappers he leaves everywhere. ;)
We went out for lunch today, the first time we had done so as a family of four. Amazing that it took five and a half months.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Kate Inglis's Meme
I've already mentioned my admiration for this author www.sweetsalty.com and NOW I have a chance to win a copy of her first book: http://www.dreadcrew.com/ through her "authoress" website http://www.kateinglis.com/blog/2009/10/13/the-dread-crew-meme-stories-that-stick.html?lastPage=true#comment6075904
I hope you find my answers entertaining - many of you yankees may be confused by some of my answers as I am pretty sure it is Canadian literature ;)
1) You are facing an epic journey. You may choose one companion, one tool and one vehicle from any book or film to accompany you. Or just one of the three. It's up to you. What do you choose?
Companion: Ramona Quimby
Vehicle: Cinderella's Pumpkin Coach
Tool: Harry Potter's Wand
2) You can escape to the insides of any book. Where do you go, and why?
Pfft.. easy. "The Neverending Story" because my imagination changes the landscape and everybody needs a luck dragon.
3) You can bring one literary character into your current life. Who do you choose, and why?
Atticus Finch. I need sound reasoning and a calming voice in my life right now.
4) The Princess Bride is my go-to book. I could read that book fifty-seven times in a row without a break for food or a pee and not be remotely bored. In fact I’ve already done that but it wasn’t fifty-seven times. It was sixty-four. And that was just during my first year of university.
5) Of all the literary or film characters that made an impression on you as a kid, who was the most enviable?
The Child-Like Empress. Something about looking 8 and ruling over another dimension....
6) Of all the literary or film characters that made an impression on you as a kid, who was the most frightening?
Jack Nicholson in the Shining. Why oh why would you let a group of 10 year olds watch that at a slumber party?? Since then, I've not been able to watch a scary movie.
7) Every time I read The Stone Angel, I see something in it that I haven’t seen before.
8) It is imperative that Don Cherry's Hockey Stories and Stuff be made into a movie. Now. I am already picketing Hollywood for this—but if they cast Julia Roberts as Rose Cherry, I will not be happy. I will, however, be appeased if they cast Rachel McAdams.
9) Where the Wild Things Are is a book that should never be made (or should have never been made) into a film. Seriously? How do you get a feature length film from a book that was 10 lines long? Second runner up: Flowers in the Attic. (Another sleep over mistake.)
10) After all these years, the interactive television scene in the book & movie Farenheit 451 still manages to give me the queebs.
11) After all these years, the "As you wish" scene in the book/movie "The Princess Bride" when he is the Dread Pirate Roberts still manages to give me a thrill.
12) If I could corner the author William Faulkner, here’s what I’d say to them one minute or less about their book, As I Lay Dying: I love your book, but why so many narrators? I had to keep flipping back to figure out who was family and how everyone was related. I hate making flow charts for books less than 500 pages long.
13) The coolest non-fiction book I’ve ever read is Gorillas in the Mist. Every time I flip through it, it makes me want to pack up my career as a physio and follow my dream of working with animals.
I hope you find my answers entertaining - many of you yankees may be confused by some of my answers as I am pretty sure it is Canadian literature ;)
1) You are facing an epic journey. You may choose one companion, one tool and one vehicle from any book or film to accompany you. Or just one of the three. It's up to you. What do you choose?
Companion: Ramona Quimby
Vehicle: Cinderella's Pumpkin Coach
Tool: Harry Potter's Wand
2) You can escape to the insides of any book. Where do you go, and why?
Pfft.. easy. "The Neverending Story" because my imagination changes the landscape and everybody needs a luck dragon.
3) You can bring one literary character into your current life. Who do you choose, and why?
Atticus Finch. I need sound reasoning and a calming voice in my life right now.
4) The Princess Bride is my go-to book. I could read that book fifty-seven times in a row without a break for food or a pee and not be remotely bored. In fact I’ve already done that but it wasn’t fifty-seven times. It was sixty-four. And that was just during my first year of university.
5) Of all the literary or film characters that made an impression on you as a kid, who was the most enviable?
The Child-Like Empress. Something about looking 8 and ruling over another dimension....
6) Of all the literary or film characters that made an impression on you as a kid, who was the most frightening?
Jack Nicholson in the Shining. Why oh why would you let a group of 10 year olds watch that at a slumber party?? Since then, I've not been able to watch a scary movie.
7) Every time I read The Stone Angel, I see something in it that I haven’t seen before.
8) It is imperative that Don Cherry's Hockey Stories and Stuff be made into a movie. Now. I am already picketing Hollywood for this—but if they cast Julia Roberts as Rose Cherry, I will not be happy. I will, however, be appeased if they cast Rachel McAdams.
9) Where the Wild Things Are is a book that should never be made (or should have never been made) into a film. Seriously? How do you get a feature length film from a book that was 10 lines long? Second runner up: Flowers in the Attic. (Another sleep over mistake.)
10) After all these years, the interactive television scene in the book & movie Farenheit 451 still manages to give me the queebs.
11) After all these years, the "As you wish" scene in the book/movie "The Princess Bride" when he is the Dread Pirate Roberts still manages to give me a thrill.
12) If I could corner the author William Faulkner, here’s what I’d say to them one minute or less about their book, As I Lay Dying: I love your book, but why so many narrators? I had to keep flipping back to figure out who was family and how everyone was related. I hate making flow charts for books less than 500 pages long.
13) The coolest non-fiction book I’ve ever read is Gorillas in the Mist. Every time I flip through it, it makes me want to pack up my career as a physio and follow my dream of working with animals.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
New Shoes
I took Caleb shopping with me today.
I should have known better.
The day started off innocently enough. I dropped Chloe off at daycare then Caleb and I headed to Sam's club to pick up "essentials" like, oh, formula and pull-ups. (If Target is the $100 Store, Sam's is the $200 Store. Why oh why do I always spend so much money there??)
I had an item that I had to pick up at Babies R Us, so I drug Caleb along with me. I usually love to browse around Babies R Us, but today I was going to be all business. Emphasis on the was.
As soon as we walked in the door I began regretting the Venti, 1/2 caff, non-fat latte that I had consumed, so we headed to the restroom. Judging by the droopiness of Caleb's pants, he had "relieved" himself earlier, so I brought in one of our newly acquired pull-ups to change him as well. I decided that my bladder took priority, so we headed into the handicapped stall (I mean, really, have you tried fitting yourself and your purse and your 2 year old in a regular sized stall?) I did what I had to do, then I decided it was time to change Caleb. No sooner had I started attaching the velcro tabs to fold the diaper and he started peeing. Everywhere.
Then I heard these words coming from me:
"Stop peeing. STOP PEEING! STOP PEEING!!!"
Like a fool, I held the already folded up diaper under him trying to catch the flow. This of course didn't work because the outside of the diaper is impermeable. Instead, I caused pee to splash everywhere! Finally I came to my senses and picked him up and plunked him on the toilet where he finished.
The aftermath was tragic: Pee all over the floor. Wet pants. Mortified Caleb.
As I was trying to clean up with the completely useless papertowels that they had in the restroom and I said to Caleb:
"Buddy, why didn't you tell me you had to pee?"
"cuz"
"It's okay honey, but when you've got to go potty, you have to tell Mommy, okay?"
"okay"
The primary purpose of the shopping trip had been to buy Caleb some new shoes. We hadn't made it to the shoe store yet, so I began weighing my options.
I should have known better.
The day started off innocently enough. I dropped Chloe off at daycare then Caleb and I headed to Sam's club to pick up "essentials" like, oh, formula and pull-ups. (If Target is the $100 Store, Sam's is the $200 Store. Why oh why do I always spend so much money there??)
I had an item that I had to pick up at Babies R Us, so I drug Caleb along with me. I usually love to browse around Babies R Us, but today I was going to be all business. Emphasis on the was.
As soon as we walked in the door I began regretting the Venti, 1/2 caff, non-fat latte that I had consumed, so we headed to the restroom. Judging by the droopiness of Caleb's pants, he had "relieved" himself earlier, so I brought in one of our newly acquired pull-ups to change him as well. I decided that my bladder took priority, so we headed into the handicapped stall (I mean, really, have you tried fitting yourself and your purse and your 2 year old in a regular sized stall?) I did what I had to do, then I decided it was time to change Caleb. No sooner had I started attaching the velcro tabs to fold the diaper and he started peeing. Everywhere.
Then I heard these words coming from me:
"Stop peeing. STOP PEEING! STOP PEEING!!!"
Like a fool, I held the already folded up diaper under him trying to catch the flow. This of course didn't work because the outside of the diaper is impermeable. Instead, I caused pee to splash everywhere! Finally I came to my senses and picked him up and plunked him on the toilet where he finished.
The aftermath was tragic: Pee all over the floor. Wet pants. Mortified Caleb.
As I was trying to clean up with the completely useless papertowels that they had in the restroom and I said to Caleb:
"Buddy, why didn't you tell me you had to pee?"
"cuz"
"It's okay honey, but when you've got to go potty, you have to tell Mommy, okay?"
"okay"
The primary purpose of the shopping trip had been to buy Caleb some new shoes. We hadn't made it to the shoe store yet, so I began weighing my options.
- We could go home and forget the new shoes.
- We could go home, change, then come back the 20 miles and get the new shoes.
- We could buy some new pants, then get the new shoes.
New pants it was! So, how hard could it be to find size 2T pants in a store that has a plethora of baby clothes?
A. Lot. Harder. Than. You. Would. Think.
As I am pushing Caleb around in the cart, trying to get him to stay seated so that as few people as possible would see his drenched pants. *growl* I come to the little boys section and realize the sign says "Layette: 0-9 Months". Are you kidding me??!? I began cursing Babies R Us under my breath.
After 5 more minutes of careful searching, we finally found A pair of pants that fit him. Paid for them, changed him in the car in the parking lot (I wasn't going back to the bathroom!) and headed off to successfully find a new pair of shoes.
Next time, Scott is taking him shoe shopping.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Definition
During Caleb's nap today, I was able to catch up on one of my favourite reads http://sweetsalty.com. I really enjoy this writer's voice, and I was really moved by her "one day in the life" entry.
She had come across an article written by a midwife with this quote: your birth is the most important event in shaping your life as a mother.
"Really?" I thought.
"Really??"
No, this can't be true.
I have many friends who have had many babies, many different ways. Some chose to give birth naturally. Some had natural births, but not by choice. Some planned natural births and were shocked when they heard themselves screaming for the epidural. Some, like myself, felt that drugs were going to be a good thing, and planned to have an epidural. Some were induced. Some had c-sections. Some had emergency c-sections. Some had babies at term. Some had babies early. Some had babies late. Some had babies too early. Some were shocked that they required interventions like forceps or vacuums. Some were just happy to get the baby out. And some didn't give birth at all, but they are nonetheless mothers.
I look at my friends and wide variety of ways that we have come into motherhood, but in no way do I feel that those that have non-medicated births are better than those who had c-sections. And I doubt that my friends who had epidurals are lesser parents than those who are step-moms. And my dear friends who have adopted - no crotch tearing involved - are still in the root of their being mothers.
How these children came to be in this world makes them no less loved, no less longed for, nor does it make them any less apt to drive us CRAZY. And it does not define us as mothers.
She had come across an article written by a midwife with this quote: your birth is the most important event in shaping your life as a mother.
"Really?" I thought.
"Really??"
No, this can't be true.
I have many friends who have had many babies, many different ways. Some chose to give birth naturally. Some had natural births, but not by choice. Some planned natural births and were shocked when they heard themselves screaming for the epidural. Some, like myself, felt that drugs were going to be a good thing, and planned to have an epidural. Some were induced. Some had c-sections. Some had emergency c-sections. Some had babies at term. Some had babies early. Some had babies late. Some had babies too early. Some were shocked that they required interventions like forceps or vacuums. Some were just happy to get the baby out. And some didn't give birth at all, but they are nonetheless mothers.
I look at my friends and wide variety of ways that we have come into motherhood, but in no way do I feel that those that have non-medicated births are better than those who had c-sections. And I doubt that my friends who had epidurals are lesser parents than those who are step-moms. And my dear friends who have adopted - no crotch tearing involved - are still in the root of their being mothers.
How these children came to be in this world makes them no less loved, no less longed for, nor does it make them any less apt to drive us CRAZY. And it does not define us as mothers.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Being the New Kid
I was really fortunate growing up: I lived in the same small town from kindergarten to high school. I even stayed in the same school Kindergarten through Grade 8! Being the new kid was never something I had I to experience.
When I went away to college, I was the new kid, but so was everybody else. There was this unspoken need to find kinsmanship with others and to make friends with people -- and quickly. You didn't want to be the person that was never invited to go eat dinner with others, or be that girl who spent every Friday night alone in her dorm room.
So, I made friends. Lots of friends. Circles upon circles of friends. Friends, whom I doubt that 13 years later, would remember my name, and some whose names I wouldn't remember. I had friends from the dorm, friends from work and friends from class. I had a hard time walking around campus without finding someone to talk to, or at least say hi to.
Even moving to, literally, another country to attend grad school, I had a built in group of friends. There were only 40 of us and we were going to spend half of our waking hours together: how could we not be friends?I think that is why this transition has been so hard for me.
I have never, as an adult, had to make friends. And quite frankly, I'm not very good at it. I feel almost as if I have had to start dating again. I put myself out there, give out my phone number, smile a sweet, and what I hope is outgoing, smile and then wait. Sometimes my prey ( and yes, I really do feel at this point that the people I am hunting to be friends with are prey) will return a smile, and even a phone number. Sometimes not. When they do, there becomes a whole new logistical arrangement of trying to meet up. Do I offer my house? Do we try to meet on neutral ground? What is neutral?
I have been choosy with my prey as of late. I am trying to find people who are in the same stage of life that my husband and I find ourselves in. Married, with two young children, and not into hanging out at the bar every weekend. Scott and I have been together for almost 8 years now, and we have pretty much been homebodies the entire time.
B.C. (Before Children) we would occasionally meet someone for drinks, or spend an early morning weekend at the gym. But usually, you would find us at home, doing some type of make work project in the house, in the yard, you name it. After our son was born, we became even more boring. I mean, who would want to do something at a smoky bar when you could watch your child drool? (I think you really have to be a parent in order to grasp the truth in that sentence.) Leaving the house for us now is a momentous occassion. I get excited about outings to Target. Really.
So here I am, living in a new town, without any friends. Don't get me wrong, the people I work with are great and I have met so many interesting people through my work, but no real friends. There is nobody here that I could call at 9:30 and say "Hey, want to come by for some muffins? I'm just pulling them out of the oven." (** Note: Re-reading that sentence reminds me that a) I am not that domesticated, and b) I would have to REALLY be on my game to have muffins made by 9:30AM, but I digress.)
But, truth be told, that is the companionship that I am longing for: someone who I could call to spend time with, or chat with, and not have to make plans with 2 weeks in advance. I haven't met anyone that I can vent to when my husband is doing stupid stuff, or when my kid is driving me crazy can talk me down from the butt whipping that I am planning in my head. Hopefuly, in the near future, I will find someone, that special someone (here we go, back to the dating analogy) that I can give a part of myself to, and they will do the same in return. Because isn't that what friendship is really all about?
When I went away to college, I was the new kid, but so was everybody else. There was this unspoken need to find kinsmanship with others and to make friends with people -- and quickly. You didn't want to be the person that was never invited to go eat dinner with others, or be that girl who spent every Friday night alone in her dorm room.
So, I made friends. Lots of friends. Circles upon circles of friends. Friends, whom I doubt that 13 years later, would remember my name, and some whose names I wouldn't remember. I had friends from the dorm, friends from work and friends from class. I had a hard time walking around campus without finding someone to talk to, or at least say hi to.
Even moving to, literally, another country to attend grad school, I had a built in group of friends. There were only 40 of us and we were going to spend half of our waking hours together: how could we not be friends?I think that is why this transition has been so hard for me.
I have never, as an adult, had to make friends. And quite frankly, I'm not very good at it. I feel almost as if I have had to start dating again. I put myself out there, give out my phone number, smile a sweet, and what I hope is outgoing, smile and then wait. Sometimes my prey ( and yes, I really do feel at this point that the people I am hunting to be friends with are prey) will return a smile, and even a phone number. Sometimes not. When they do, there becomes a whole new logistical arrangement of trying to meet up. Do I offer my house? Do we try to meet on neutral ground? What is neutral?
I have been choosy with my prey as of late. I am trying to find people who are in the same stage of life that my husband and I find ourselves in. Married, with two young children, and not into hanging out at the bar every weekend. Scott and I have been together for almost 8 years now, and we have pretty much been homebodies the entire time.
B.C. (Before Children) we would occasionally meet someone for drinks, or spend an early morning weekend at the gym. But usually, you would find us at home, doing some type of make work project in the house, in the yard, you name it. After our son was born, we became even more boring. I mean, who would want to do something at a smoky bar when you could watch your child drool? (I think you really have to be a parent in order to grasp the truth in that sentence.) Leaving the house for us now is a momentous occassion. I get excited about outings to Target. Really.
So here I am, living in a new town, without any friends. Don't get me wrong, the people I work with are great and I have met so many interesting people through my work, but no real friends. There is nobody here that I could call at 9:30 and say "Hey, want to come by for some muffins? I'm just pulling them out of the oven." (** Note: Re-reading that sentence reminds me that a) I am not that domesticated, and b) I would have to REALLY be on my game to have muffins made by 9:30AM, but I digress.)
But, truth be told, that is the companionship that I am longing for: someone who I could call to spend time with, or chat with, and not have to make plans with 2 weeks in advance. I haven't met anyone that I can vent to when my husband is doing stupid stuff, or when my kid is driving me crazy can talk me down from the butt whipping that I am planning in my head. Hopefuly, in the near future, I will find someone, that special someone (here we go, back to the dating analogy) that I can give a part of myself to, and they will do the same in return. Because isn't that what friendship is really all about?
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Aching
I start work again on Monday.
Today was the first time that I dreaded it.
Today was the first time that I allowed myself to cry over leaving my baby in someone else's care.
Today was the first time that I realized how much shorter our snuggle time together is going to be.
No one else can calm her like I can.
No one else instinctively knows what she needs like I do.
This morning, I was cleaning the bottles that I bought yesterday and it just hit me. And I ached. I physically ached inside. I wanted to curl up on the kitchen floor and have a good cry. But I couldn't, because how do you explain to your two year old that you feel like you are breaking inside?
And how do you justify to him that it is okay for Mommy to drop him off to school because Mommy doesn't come apart in the parking lot any more like she did the first week when he was only 10 weeks old and soooo tiny and vulnerable. Because now he is this big boy, who gives you a quick peck on the cheek and goes off to play with his friends. And how do you explain that you are so proud of him, but that you know that it is going to be a blink of an eye and his sister is going to be doing the same thing. And that you're not ready - not ready for him to be growing so fast, and not ready to lose the baby that she is. You're just not ready.
I'm just not ready.
Today was the first time that I dreaded it.
Today was the first time that I allowed myself to cry over leaving my baby in someone else's care.
Today was the first time that I realized how much shorter our snuggle time together is going to be.
No one else can calm her like I can.
No one else instinctively knows what she needs like I do.
This morning, I was cleaning the bottles that I bought yesterday and it just hit me. And I ached. I physically ached inside. I wanted to curl up on the kitchen floor and have a good cry. But I couldn't, because how do you explain to your two year old that you feel like you are breaking inside?
And how do you justify to him that it is okay for Mommy to drop him off to school because Mommy doesn't come apart in the parking lot any more like she did the first week when he was only 10 weeks old and soooo tiny and vulnerable. Because now he is this big boy, who gives you a quick peck on the cheek and goes off to play with his friends. And how do you explain that you are so proud of him, but that you know that it is going to be a blink of an eye and his sister is going to be doing the same thing. And that you're not ready - not ready for him to be growing so fast, and not ready to lose the baby that she is. You're just not ready.
I'm just not ready.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
How things have changed...
I admit that I haven't had an all out birthday "party" since I turned 17. It is not that I don't enjoy celebrating my birthday, or that I ignore it. My birthday falls during a precarious time: the beginning of the school year. When I was in college it was pretty easy to talk a few friends into "Ringing in the New Year", but now that we are older and supposedly wiser, it is a little more difficult.
This year I had glimpse of birthdays future: and they most certainly did not revolve around me! First of all, my morning started of at 3A.M. (thank you Chloe) and then again at 6A.M. Although she had been on a good schedule with sleeping and napping, this fell by the wayside during our recent drive up to Canada and having an upset tummy for, oh, two weeks. We are slowly getting back on schedule but it has been a difficult transition for all four members of the household.
I am tired and a little cranky, but I figure it is nothing that some coffee won't fix. As I was preparing my precious cup of caffeine, Caleb wakes up and he is loaded for bear. I don't think that there is anything closer on this earth to perpetual motion than a toddler. I promise you, he hits the ground running. And shouting. The concept of *inside voice* is completely lost on this child. Caleb knew that today was going to be his first day of swimming lessons and he was "super excited".
We managed to get through the morning until 10A.M. without major problems, but after I got the two kids and all of their gear loaded into the SUV, I realized that the GPS (which I need to get to the YMCA) is not in the vehicle. Scott has it. In his vehicle. Half an hour away. I ended up calling his office and spoke to the lady in customer service (who thankfully knows that I am not completely Looney Tunes) and she was able to mapquest directions for me. *sigh*
We got to the pool super early because (a) we had never been there, and (b) I had to drop Chloe off at their child watch center and didn't know the protocol. When we arrived, I attempted to confirm that we were enrolled in the class and the lady at the desk said "Well, if you signed up online, you must be in there." Warning bells should have gone off at this point. After a quick tour of where the change rooms were by our instructor, we made our way up to child watch and filled out all the appropriate forms.... or so we thought. I have to say, being that it was my first time leaving Chloe with someone who was not family, I did really, really well. I didn't even well up!
Caleb and I head to the change room, get changed and head out to the pool. He sees the water and immediately begins "Iwannagointhepool!!! Iwannagointhepool!!" about 3957 times in a row. I try to explain to him that it isn't safe for us to get in the water until the teacher says it is okay. Then I try distracting him. I am almost at the point of putting duct tape on his mouth when other mommies and their lovely non-verbal 12 month old babies start filing in. Now I am trying to keep him quiet, still and amused. Not so easy.
The instructor comes over and begins to tell us about the class and what the objective will be for us as parents and our kiddos. Then she does role call. We're not on the list. Thankfully, the aquatics supervisor is there and agrees to let us join the class, we just have to register by next week.
Finally it is time to go in the water. Caleb puts his big toe in and starts "I wanna go see Chloe!!" I basically drug him into the pool (it was a bit cold) and forced him to participate in the hokey-pokey. Mean mom, I know. I tried all of my old swim-teacher distraction techniques, but he was having none of it. We left the pool with him in tears and my nerves frayed.
I rushed upstairs to get Chloe, only to find out, child watch is for members only. "Oops. Sorry. It won't happen again." Double ugh.
As I am trying to get Caleb registered for lessons he is doing everything in his power to get my attention. When he started whipping a toy around Chloe's face he got a firm tap on the head and told "We don't hit our sisters."
I later felt horrible about physically disciplining my child in public. I mean, its not like I pulled down his pants and paddled him, but I hated that I had lost control of my temper and resorted to that. When he woke up from his nap later that afternoon, I said "Caleb, do you think I'm a mean mommy?" He looked at me with those big brown eyes and said "No, you Tarrah."
Scott made a delicious dinner of pasta, salad and red velvet cake - and I had a large enough glass of wine that my nerves weren't frayed anymore.
Not quite like my bar hopping days, but I wouldn't trade this stage of my life for anything.
This year I had glimpse of birthdays future: and they most certainly did not revolve around me! First of all, my morning started of at 3A.M. (thank you Chloe) and then again at 6A.M. Although she had been on a good schedule with sleeping and napping, this fell by the wayside during our recent drive up to Canada and having an upset tummy for, oh, two weeks. We are slowly getting back on schedule but it has been a difficult transition for all four members of the household.
I am tired and a little cranky, but I figure it is nothing that some coffee won't fix. As I was preparing my precious cup of caffeine, Caleb wakes up and he is loaded for bear. I don't think that there is anything closer on this earth to perpetual motion than a toddler. I promise you, he hits the ground running. And shouting. The concept of *inside voice* is completely lost on this child. Caleb knew that today was going to be his first day of swimming lessons and he was "super excited".
We managed to get through the morning until 10A.M. without major problems, but after I got the two kids and all of their gear loaded into the SUV, I realized that the GPS (which I need to get to the YMCA) is not in the vehicle. Scott has it. In his vehicle. Half an hour away. I ended up calling his office and spoke to the lady in customer service (who thankfully knows that I am not completely Looney Tunes) and she was able to mapquest directions for me. *sigh*
We got to the pool super early because (a) we had never been there, and (b) I had to drop Chloe off at their child watch center and didn't know the protocol. When we arrived, I attempted to confirm that we were enrolled in the class and the lady at the desk said "Well, if you signed up online, you must be in there." Warning bells should have gone off at this point. After a quick tour of where the change rooms were by our instructor, we made our way up to child watch and filled out all the appropriate forms.... or so we thought. I have to say, being that it was my first time leaving Chloe with someone who was not family, I did really, really well. I didn't even well up!
Caleb and I head to the change room, get changed and head out to the pool. He sees the water and immediately begins "Iwannagointhepool!!! Iwannagointhepool!!" about 3957 times in a row. I try to explain to him that it isn't safe for us to get in the water until the teacher says it is okay. Then I try distracting him. I am almost at the point of putting duct tape on his mouth when other mommies and their lovely non-verbal 12 month old babies start filing in. Now I am trying to keep him quiet, still and amused. Not so easy.
The instructor comes over and begins to tell us about the class and what the objective will be for us as parents and our kiddos. Then she does role call. We're not on the list. Thankfully, the aquatics supervisor is there and agrees to let us join the class, we just have to register by next week.
Finally it is time to go in the water. Caleb puts his big toe in and starts "I wanna go see Chloe!!" I basically drug him into the pool (it was a bit cold) and forced him to participate in the hokey-pokey. Mean mom, I know. I tried all of my old swim-teacher distraction techniques, but he was having none of it. We left the pool with him in tears and my nerves frayed.
I rushed upstairs to get Chloe, only to find out, child watch is for members only. "Oops. Sorry. It won't happen again." Double ugh.
As I am trying to get Caleb registered for lessons he is doing everything in his power to get my attention. When he started whipping a toy around Chloe's face he got a firm tap on the head and told "We don't hit our sisters."
I later felt horrible about physically disciplining my child in public. I mean, its not like I pulled down his pants and paddled him, but I hated that I had lost control of my temper and resorted to that. When he woke up from his nap later that afternoon, I said "Caleb, do you think I'm a mean mommy?" He looked at me with those big brown eyes and said "No, you Tarrah."
Scott made a delicious dinner of pasta, salad and red velvet cake - and I had a large enough glass of wine that my nerves weren't frayed anymore.
Not quite like my bar hopping days, but I wouldn't trade this stage of my life for anything.
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