My Baby is Free

Today, Baby Girl, you turned free. Free years old! I can hardly belibe it.

Three years ago you came bursting into our lives, like the star of a play bursting onto stage, smiling and singing -- and you've managed to shine in your own spotlight ever since. Despite making us wait for your big entrance, we enthusiastically cheered your arrival on stage.

You are the missing piece that we didn't even know was missing until you filled it's spot, completing our family puzzle perfectly, as you do.

You do things your way, in your own time, just like how you came into our family in your own good time. Refusing to be told how and when, you basically potty trained yourself in a few days, when you were good and ready. In just the last week you learned how to dress yourself. It seems every time I turn around you are mastering something new, on your own (being the third child means fending for yourself a lot more). Rather than try to keep up with you, I find myself sitting back and just observing you, watching you grow your wings and fly...

You are fiercely independent and you have a mind of your own, which you love to share if people around you would just listen. I do love listening to your chatter and stories, except maybe at 8:30 pm, when it's time to sleep and you have to tell us just ONE more thing, or do one more thing, or read one more book, "I promise just ONE more and I'll NEVER ask again". Mm hmm.

You love to be our special helper, whether it's cooking (trying to keep your little hands off hot burners while you sample everything), or laundry (matching socks or throwing folded clothes in the air); if you see a job being done you're the first to say "Can I help?" while pulling a chair behind you, not waiting for an answer.

You are sunshine and thunderclouds. You give the BEST hugs and kisses, and the biggest smiles, even (especially?) at 6 am when it's still dark out. You can throw the most epic tantrums. Go big or go home, right? You may be the littlest but you won't let that stop you from making the biggest impression. You're tenacious, and spunky, and you give mommy more gray hairs than anyone. You've found yourself in plenty of sticky situations, but you just shrug and smile and hold out your hands (for mommy to wipe). You've got a sparkle in your eye that makes it impossible for anyone to be mad at you -- and I think you know it. ;)

I love you Lolo Bird. Thanks for letting me watch as you fly.

Love, Mommy Bird

Not YOU... You're the Good One!

NO no no.

The "good" one has started to act up.

No, this can't be. She's our rule-follower. Our middle child, our quiet one. The pleaser. Sure she has her moments, her fits of crying, times when she's immobilized by shyness. But, she's our good girl!

But lately, I've seen a little flash in her eye, as she swears up and down and inside out that what she's saying is TRUE! It's TRUE Mommy, I didn't sleep at ALL last night! Or, For real, I got a elephant one [vitamin]!"*

*SIDEBAR -- why do my kids insist on classifying every little thing, and placing a higher value on things that are exactly the same?? The 'elephant' and 'hippo' vitamins taste *exactly* the same as the 'doggy' one, just with a different picture engraved on the side, little children! Can't you see that?? Gaah!

But I digress. The point is, The Girl has started to lie like a rug.

Now, I know it's a phase in childhood... it's just her age. She is 5.5... 5.5 year olds lie. They just do. And I know it's probably good for her, in the long run, to test out fact from fiction, her acting skills, asserting herself in the face of a challenge.

At least that's what I'm telling myself as I question her on these things that are CLEARLY lies (or "fibs" as we call them, trying to soften the edges a little).

She couldn't be The Good One forever... but come on, we only get 5.5 years? The Boy is WAY too smart for us, and Baby Girl is hell on wheels in comparison... don't we get ONE good kid to balance things out?

An Open Letter to Coaches / Teachers / Adult Mentors...

I sometimes see notes from friends who are coaches, teachers, etc. about "Your kids", things parents should be doing or not doing when it comes to their kids. I can appreciate that there are some crazy parents in the world (haha), but I thought it important to send a note to the coaches and teachers of the world, too. Though I use the masculine form (ie, 'his'), know all of this applies to my daughter too.

Dear Coach, Teacher, Adult Mentor of my Son or Daughter:

First let me tell you that I think what you do is amazing. Anyone who works with kids on a daily or semi-regular basis, helping to guide them through this life, teach them things they will need to know to make them a better person, ought to be celebrated. Without you, the job of parents would be impossible -- we simply can't be everything for our kids all the time. So, thank you. It may be cliche, but it truly does take a village to raise a child.

I can appreciate the hard work and dedication you have for my child, and I know you want him to succeed, too.

To you, he is one of many. But to us, his parents, he is one in a million. He is our heart personified. We have sat on the edge of his bed in the middle of the night, rubbing his back, watching him breathe, waiting for the fever to break. We have paced the doctor's office or the ER, wringing hands, waiting anxiously for someone to tell us he would be okay. We have cried with him when he got hurt, we've celebrated with him when he's succeeded in doing that thing that he'd been trying so hard to do. We've felt our own heart break, when we've watched his heart break.

He's not the star in your sky, no. He's your average kid, one of a group of average kids. He's not amazing, or incredible, or exceptionally special in any way. Except, to us, he is. All of that, and more. We think about him all day long. We wonder how he's doing when we're not with him, we worry about him. We hurt when he doesn't live up to expectations. We're doing our very best to help him navigate his way through this world, to be respectable, driven, helpful, compassionate. We're doing our best to help him to do his best.

There isn't a way for you to ever see him the way we see him. We'll try not to be the crazy, irrational parents who you see on a regular basis, telling the coach / teacher / mentor that their child really IS special. But, please know, we can't help it. Because, to us, he just is.

And then, they go and do something like this...

Kids. Always at ya. Adorable, but tantrummy. Hungry, but hate everything you suggest to eat. Scream at you for looking at them funny, but don't want you to leave the room. Aggravate you one minute, then run up and give you a hug for no reason. And so it goes.

After this past weekend of cleaning, organizing, chores galore and not much time reserved for play, both the kids and the parents were starting to get cranky with each other. Generally the kids have been playing SO WELL together (ack! I said it out loud! *knocking on wood*) so in that respect they were at least entertained by each other... even though I kept thinking, 'I should be doing that puzzle with them...' etc. I do know we're lucky that they enjoy each other's company though, so that when a weekend like the one we just had comes along, we can focus on the big people stuff (and my goodness it's nice to have a beautifully organized laundry room again!!) while they play.

But, of course, two whole days at home is a long time, and they got tired of each other. Little arguments, yelling... then us yelling to cut it out.

Sometime mid-afternoon today (I know it was after The Girl's nap as she was pantsless... don't ask), they both ended up on their i-Things, playing games next to each other on the couch. It's funny, because even though we have a big ole house with lots of places to go off and do their own thing, I still find them squashed next to each other in the same small chair sometimes.

Anyway, this past weekend we hadn't had a whole lot of 'electronics' as The Boy calls them, and the TV had been off most of the time, so I felt okay letting them veg out and play on 'electronic's for a bit while I finished up some of my jobs. There they were, on the couch, each in their own world and iGame, and that's when I heard this...

The Boy (quietly, without looking up): "I love you."
The Girl: "I love you, too."

I mean. Seriously.

God I love these kids.

Diary of a Real Pregnancy: Week 15 - I'm Old, and The Talk

Have I told you all that I'm of Advanced Maternal Age? In other words, in the OB world... old? Up until this point I've laughed at this notion... sure it took us a little longer to get pregnant this time, and we're doing some extra tests and scans, but besides that, 35 isn't actually OLD anymore, right?

Wrong. I am feeling every year of my 35 years. Or maybe it's just that I was hopelessly out of shape when I got pregnant. Whatever it is, I'm feeling it. A co-worker had the gall to come into the building at the same time as me the other morning, and of course since he took the stairs, I had to, too. Damn him. By the time I completed the third flight, I thought my lungs were going to implode, and my legs were on fire. Yep, 15 weeks and I'm feeling it. I was literally wheezing like a geriatric patient. This does not bode well for the rest of this pregnancy!

I feel like I should be doing something (other than eating... I've got that covered) in order to get in better shape. But when? How? What? Swimming? Haha. Maybe. But who has time? Yoga? Again. No time. I know I'd feel better if I did something, so it's something I'll need to think about. I didn't have to do anything the first two times. Damn being old.

Besides all that, this week was the week that my dear, sweet 5-year-old asked me The Question. Not THAT question (how'd it get in there?), the other one. Here's how it went.

I was on my computer (on thebump.com) and The Boy came over, asked what I was doing. I showed him the picture of what the baby looks like now and it's the size of an orange. He was fascinated, and wanted to see each week! All was fine until he asked to see week 40, and I pointed out that the baby was upside-down getting ready to come out.

Open mouth... insert foot.

He laughed and said, "Haha, the baby's FEET are going to come out of your mouth!". I laugh. Silly baby coming out upside-down. Hoping that was the end of it. (I am *terrible* at this, can you tell?)

He thinks about it a minute. Cogs turn. I think, 'Oh god.' And then... "But, HOW does the baby come out? At the hospital."

I feel myself clam up. This is NOT a big deal. WHY am I so stressed about this. I say "You know honey, it just... pops out." Yep. Totally accurate.

He says, "No but, how does it?" What I wanted to say? "Magic!"

Poof! Baby!

Okay. Fine. Fine. I'll just tell him. "Well honey the baby comes out of--" ohgod I have to say it "my... vagina." I might die, right now.

"Your... pachina? What's your pachina?" Seriously? So I say, "Honey it's like where girls pee, and stuff. You know - boys have a penis, girls have a vagina. Down there." Point in the general direction. He pulls a face and says "The baby's going to come out of your BUM???"

This is hilarious and horrific at the same time.

He looks to where I pointed. "Can I see your pachina?" I'm like, "NO you can't see my VAgina." He asks why. I say it's private. He says "But, you know me. So, it's okay. You can show me." LOL. Okay, our talk about keeping private things private except with your parents and people you trust sank in. But, omg. So I laugh and say "No, you are not seeing my vagina." Now please stop talking about my pachina!

Thank GOD he remembered why he came over to talk to me in the first place, and we went about our day without any more 'incidents'.

I swear I'll die the day either of my kids asks how it got in there. 

Previous: Week 14: Mush Brain and Baby Names
Next: Week 16: I Feel (Not) Pretty

Diary of a Real Pregnancy: Week 14 - Mush Brain and Baby Names

... huh?...

This week was a follow-up prenatal visit with my doctor, which nearly didn't happen because of the whole Mommy Brain + Pregnancy Brain = Mush Brain. Being so focused on the ultrasound and telling the world our news, I completely forgot to make an appointment for this week. Thankfully my doc is awesome and squeezed me in at the last minute.

Of course having the Mush Brain means also forgetting that prenatal appointments involve peeing in a cup. Oh yeah you didn't know that either? I have this silly habit of making sure I use the washroom before I going anywhere these days... Which is why I found myself in the doc's office washroom, hovering over a teeny tiny cup, thinking "Surely I can squeeze out a few drops..." And is it just me or is aiming into those cups like some kind of a weird carnival game... but without the big stuffed bear at the end? Could they not make these things more like a funnel or something? Is it possible to pee in the cup without getting it all over yourself? No, it's really not.

In any event it turns out a few drops is all they need to do their 'tests'. Which is good, since I'm sure I could not repeat that performance or squeeze out another drop. I've gained 3.5 lbs to date, which I really don't understand since I've been eating like a maniac pothead for weeks now.And, the BEST part of the appointment... hearing the baby's heartbeat! The doc was able to find it right away - yay! Clearly I'm an idiot as I'm been trying to find it with my own home Doppler (don't ask) for weeks and nothing. It sounded lovely too :) 155 bpm. Just right.

Now, I know this is going to sound crazy... but I swear this week I started to feel some movement from baby. Being only 14 weeks and the baby is now the size of a lemon, I'm a bit confounded as to how this is even possible... but I swear there have been a handful of little "bump"s this past week. it feels just like if you gave yourself a quick little poke in the belly... but on the inside. Even having been through this a few times before, that feeling never gets old, especially the first few times.

This week the kids also started suggesting names for the wee one. The Girl is partial to "Elmo", and "Baby Sister" (wishful thinking), but has also suggested "Plate" and "Table". The Boy told me last night he likes "Abby" for a girl and "Max" for a boy. Lovely names... but I think "Plate" has a nice ring to it, don't you?

Previous: Week 13: And Now the World Knows
Next: Week 15 - I'm Old, and The Talk

Diary of a Real Pregnancy - Week 13: And Now the World Knows

Not only is this week the start of the SECOND TRIMESTER (whaaat!!), it's quite possibly the week that everyone and their dog finds out that you're expecting. I'm certainly glad we waited this long to tell The Boy and The Girl our big news... they were so excited that they've told, well, everyone. Saves us the trouble of making any kind of formal announcement! Plus it's fun to watch people ask you if the rumour is true, trying not to offend you but really, really wanting to know. And then you get to say YES! We are expecting! Yes, for real! I have proof!

And then you get the comments. Sure, everyone is well meaning... but I'm really surprised how many people act like three kids is either nuts, or had to have been unplanned. The number of times I've been asked "Were you planning this?" A) as if it's anyone's business if we were planning this and B) as if it's so crazy to have three kids. I mean... three kids! It's not like we're announcing we're expecting number 19! *ahem*

But yes, just to clear it up, this was very much planned :) We bought a house with 4 bedrooms upstairs, we've had a minivan for years... yes. Planned, welcomed, possibly still crazy but only because who wants to do the whole newborn thing? I mean... REALLY. Up 4-5 times a night with a screaming baby... liquid poo... total inability to do... anything but cry and poo. And sleep (but only a little).

Then they grow up a bit, and then you catch them, as I did our first two kids, playing together and making each other giggle and it all just fits. Hopefully #3 will fit right in with the other two and it won't be the straw that broke mommy's back and made her start drinking at breakfast time. I'm totally, partially, somewhat optimistic that that won't happen. Time will tell.

But... we have lots of time for that. Right now it's just the second trimester. Really I have a hard time believing that we're here already. It's not possible. We JUST got the positive test... right? Lately my symptoms have been still tired (does that ever go away??), nosebleeds, and oh the latest this week - really, really irritable. Like, I have no time for any of this crap so get the hell out of my way type irritable. Baby is only the size of a peach or something, and already running the show.

Overall though this is the week that our news is "out there", which is fun but in a way feels like an invasion of my privacy, because people know something about me that I've been hiding for a while. It's strange, but nice too, because I have a reason for being so crazy and absent-minded lately. But my choices also seem like they're public domain, even if nobody has the balls to say anything - I see you watching me eat that chocolate bar. I see your judgey eyes thinking "You should be eating an apple, honey. Your poor suffering baby!" Don't judge me! Now I don't know if anyone does think badly, but as I'm already on the irritible train everyone looks like they're judging me, all the time. Screw you! I'm eating this chocolate bar! Antioxidants! Ha.


I also realized today (13.5 weeks) that I'm showing a bit, at least in the dress I'm wearing. There's no mistaking that little bump. My body shape is still somewhere between Pregnant and Not Pregnant, in that "Uhh, you've put on a few pounds" stage where it just looks like you've been eating too many Cheetos. Which I have, but that's not the point. Time to take some belly pictures!

Cheeeeeeese

Previous: Week 12: The Proof in the Ultrasound Pudding
Next: Week 14: Mush Brain and Baby Names

How to Soften the Blow of a 6 am Wake-up

Anyone who knows me know that I'm not a morning person. I'm pretty much the opposite of a morning person... covers-over-head bemoaning the arrival of the sun. I'll probably never be one of those people who willingly leap out of bed at 6 am to greet the day. No. Never.

That would be me.

For all intents and purposes, The Boy has followed suit, preferring to lounge in bed until 8 am (if given the opportunity), or later. He's always been a "good sleeper" - and by that I mean, sleeping when I want to sleep, especially in the morning. It's been a good run.

Which is why is was a bit surprised to discover that The Girl, my dear, sweet daughter is actually... dun dun duuuun... a morning person. *shudder* Not just a morning person... an EARLY morning person.

Now I know I have NO room to complain here. NONE. Early morning in our house is 6:00 am. For a lot of parents, this practically qualifies as mid-day. But for us, that's really frikken early. Not for my daughter! She's up and at 'em, bouncing her curly head around like it's party time. (Or, sometimes, crying and yelling and wanting one of us.)

The other thing to note about The Girl is that she's a tried-and-true Daddy's girl. Always has been - literally from day 1 she has always been comforted by Daddy and would run to him first whenever she got hurt or scared. I learned early on not to take this personally. Well okay no I didn't - I'd be all, "Dude, I carried you for nine months and pushed you out - and that was no picnic let me tell you - and this is the thanks I get?" - but eventually I just went with it. Besides it's kindof nice when a child wakes in the middle of the night and you have to shrug and say "Ehh, what can I do, she wants you!" hehehe.

This morning, 6 am came much earlier than usual. I was up late the night before, after baking treats for Treats Club at work (I love where I work... seriously, Treats Club! :)). 6 am, the familiar pitter-patter of feet and the usual whines from The Girl made me curl up, covers-over-head, hoping she would run to Daddy's side of the bed. Which she did. Ha! Victory!

Until... "Mama!" (pushing Daddy away and reaching for me) "Maaamaaa!"... Yep, she pulled the Mama Card.

Thing is, even at 6 am, The Girl is as adorable and sweet as ever. Her face is like a frikken cherub, which makes it really hard to be mad at her. And when she pulls the Mama Card, wanting ME and only ME, and being all sweet and lovey, well I melt a little. Can't fault her - I mean, I am pretty awesome. Would just be nice if she'd waited til 7 am to show me the love.

*yawn*

Gender Bias: Turns out, I'm guilty too

I've always thought of myself as fairly progressive when it comes to gender equality. While I didn't really think about it much when my son was born for some reason, I've been acutely aware of the effect gender bias has on our decisions when it comes to my daughter. I'm not sure why I focused on it with her and not him... perhaps because there's an assumption that if you pigeon-hole your daughter as a GIRL, it's oppressive, but if you treat your son as all BOY, you're doing him a favour. Why is that? I don't know. But I digress...

In the past two-and-a-half years since The Girl was born, I've done my best to maintain a balance and present a fairly neutral 'front' when it comes to the the toys, games, and clothes we provide for her. This was fairly easy, given that a lot of the toys we had in the house were either neutral or typically "boy" toys. Now, I don't know why trucks and dinosaurs are considered BOY things, but they are. Since we already had all those things in the house, when The Girl came along and we were given all the pink and doll things, it just blended in, and she had a choice as to what to play with. I imagined her as that little freckly-faced kid in jeans and braids who we've all seen, so proud of her (blue and red and green) LEGO creation.


At certain times I do find myself getting caught up in the whole "girly girl" thing. I did kindof want to slap myself when I realized I'd played right into the marketing of pink to girls: on her first birthday, when The Girl ripped open her presents, lo and behold there was a PINK toy sorter, and a PINK school bus. Oh, dear. How did those get in there?? Okay, I found it hard to resist... I mean that pink school bus is just too cute. But, why didn't I just buy the yellow school bus? Did it being pink offer any added play value? I'm not saying there's anything inherently wrong with pink... It's a great colour, but am I sending a message to my daughter when I buy her a pink school bus instead of yellow? I would never have bought my son a pink school bus. (And why not?)


Despite the occasional pink toy (and a boatload of baby dolls -- The Girl happens to love them, what can I say?), I think we have a fairly good mix in our house. We try not to influence them one way or another when it comes to choices, what they want in terms of colours, clothing, toys... We offer a wide range and they decide. The Boy often chooses pink, and why not? I'd say we're doing pretty well.

Or at least, I thought so. Until I realized gender bias is underneath it all, even despite trying to be aware of it and keep my own ideas of what is "for girls" and "for boys" checked at the door. After signing the kids up for various spring activities, I was smacked down with my own bias and realized I'd sent a very clear and unintended message to my son. When he heard that his sister would be doing gymnastics every Saturday he turned to me and said, "I want to do gymnastics too! Like they do on TV!".

Oh, dear.

Well past the registration deadline at this point, with no chance to get him signed up for this semester, I had to explain to him why I had signed his sister up for gymnastics, and him for t-ball, and not the other way around.

I really don't have a good answer for him. (Mom Fail #923)

Ten things my kids love (and I hate)

1. Running away from me. Grocery store, daycare pickup, trying to get out the door in the morning... doesn't matter, as long as I want them to stay here and they want to be... anywhere else. Run away! Hee hee! Mom is clenching both her fists and her teeth! Wee! Run!
2. Wiggling and squirming into a pretzel shape during diaper changes. Now, this only applies to one of them, but for a 2.5-year-old she is surprisingly strong and nimble. Haha! She'll NEVER get that diaper on me! Wee!
3. Dora the freaking screaming Explorer.
4. Absurd requests as I'm leaving the room at bedtime. I can have bunny? Other bunny? NO OTHER BUNNY. Thomas Snowsuit book? Chocolate milk? A bandaid on my knee? Three more stories? One? A short one? Stand at the end of my bed with your arms in the air and sing opera until I fall asleep?
5. Making noises with food.
6. Throwing food.
7. Coordinating themselves so they are never both looking at the camera at the same time while smiling. Ready? 1... 2... 3... look away! Bwahahahaha. She took the picture. 
8. Drawing on themselves.
9. Waiting until other parents are within earshot to lose their schmidt. Bonus points if they can work in the phrase, "Owww you're hurting me!!"
10. Waiting until their Dad and I start talking to each other to NEED SOMETHING RIGHT NOW, ensuring that we will never finish another conversation for as long as we both shall live. 

The Lies We Tell our Kids

There actually IS an app for that...

The Boy has really gotten into the whole 'lying' thing lately. He's gone at this particular milestone with gusto and I hate to admit it, but he reminds me SO much of myself at a young age. I'd like to think it's his keen wit and brilliant imagination that's got him making up these elaborate lies to tell us, but I know it's really just him being a kid and making stuff up. And, it's relentless... these days, almost everything out of the kid's mouth is a lie: a 'version' of the truth, a stretch, or an all-out fabrication. He does get a 'talking to' for lying, and we tell him all the time that it's better to tell the truth, than to lie and get in double the trouble.

But the other day it occurred to me that as parents, we lie to our kids too. All.The.Time. I don't believe the parents who say they are 100% honest with their kids - it's just not possbile to tell your kids the truth all the time! Hello... Santa? Easter Bunny? Sure they are fun 'make believe' stories, but let's face it: they are lies. We make up these things and feed them to our kids and they simply aren't true.

But, beyond the parental-obligation lies like Santa, there are the every day make-my-life-easier ones. Once you start to pay attention to them, you realize just how often you lie to your kids. Around here we're up to every day, if not several times a day of lies. And my kids aren't even home during the day all week!

• No, there aren't any vegetables in that sauce
• Coffee isn't good for kids - it will make hair grow on your chest
• Yes, you have to go to bed by 8:00... your doctor told me
• That's a bad word because... it says so in the dictionary. No, I don't really know what it means.

Oh but the best are the ones that the kids KNOW are a lie, but you keep telling because you're not sure what else to do.

• If you get out of bed one more time, I'm taking all the furniture out of your room
• If you don't stop pestering your sister, I am calling Johnny's mother to cancel your playdate
• Get your boots on RIGHT NOW or we are not going to the party
• I am going to call your father and tell him to get on the next plane home sohelpmegod!

(see a theme here??)

Of course, there are the Big Lies. The ones you kind-of hope never come up, and once you say them you really hope your kids don't ask more questions because they're hard to elaborate on, but then they do ask and you're stuck in a Web of Big Lies and at this point you're waiting for one of them to throw up or something to catch on fire to get you out of the Web...

• No, Daddy and I are never going to die
• Noooo... it's doesn't hurt to get a needle...
• Those animals are just... um. Wrestling.

What lies have you told your kids recently? Have you ever been caught in a lie?

Little voice

Tonight, while reading The Going to Bed Book with The Girl, she seemed fixated on the little dog who was on his way back down to bed (at last):

Staring and pointing at the dog, in her two-year-old voice, she says: "Doggie fell down. He sad... he bump his head. He crying... he say 'Daddy!', he go woof-woof, woof-woof." Hehe.

Each time I tried to turn the page, she'd want to turn back to that page to see the doggie who fell and hit his head. I finally had to explain to her that he was just resting, he was okay, and he was going to bed but he wasn't very happy about it. She seemed satisfied with that. Funny that of all the things going on in the book, she fixated on this one little dog. I love trying to figure out what she's thinking and the ways she 'interprets' the world around her - it's fascinating to me. I'm thinking she's learning about other's feelings, and empathy. Pretty neat stuff.