New adventures of an old SAHM

Priorities # 2

2011-01-10T09:18:00.000-08:00

I've been sitting on this post for awhile because I've been trying to get it sorted in my head. The more and more time I spend with people who are not "like minded", the more frustrated I get. While I try my best not to judge other mothers and the choices they make for their children, I will openly admit that lately I'm failing pretty badly.

I don't consider myself to be an overly judgemental person, but there are times when I can't help myself. Trust me, I'm trying to work on this, because really...what does it matter what another mother is doing with her own children? The fact is, I care. I care about the health and well-being of the children in my life. I care deeply about their emotional development, and I care about their physical development. With all the information that is out there, I find it frustrating that so many people make uninformed choices when it comes to the health and well-being of their children. I like to refer to this as "willful ignorance", and this is my biggest pet peeve. How can you not be aware of how the choices you make are affecting your children?

Let's take nutrition as an example. Recently, my mother-in-law commented that we must spend a "fortune" on our grocery bill. And yes, in our overall budget, we probably spend more on food than the average family household. Part of this is due to our desire to eat as organically as possible (and when not organic, we go out of our way to support local farmers), and partially because allergies require us to shop as specialty stores. Even before the allergy diagnosis for both my eldest son and myself, both my husband and I were very contientious about what we were putting in front of our children. We've always limited sugar (especially refined sugar) and been very careful about the kinds of foods we're exposing our children to. Namely, I believe in offering FOOD to my kids. That may sound trite -- I'm sure you're thinking "yes, I serve food too, you crazy lady". Personally, I don't believe pudding and pop tarts are food. We don't eat processed convenience meals. And I definitely don't make desserts and "treats" part of my children's vocabulary. Of course, this hasn't ensured that my kids are good eaters. Quite the opposite right now, which is frustrating. My three year old is turning into quite the picky eater. But, my job is to serve him healthy meals and it is his job to decide how much he wants to eat. I'm just hopeful one day he decides he wants to eat more than he is right now!

What is my point? The more I learn about food, the more I realize the importance of being careful about what I put in my own mouth, let alone the mouths of my kids while they're developing. While I admit I sometimes rely on what's easy (eggs for breakfast every day anyone?), I do try and ensure that fruit, vegetables, legumes and grains are offered.

Maybe I'm more sensitive about this because of all the issues we've been through with my son. It now appears that my second child has food allergies as well, and we've recently gone through the testing process for him and are awaiting results. The test isn't cheap, but I'm fortunate that my husband's benefit package through his employer covers the cost. But the bottom line is this -- I don't care how much the test costs, if we're talking about the health of my child, I will spend the money.

If you suspected your child might be suffering, wouldn't you do the same? I encountered someone recently who suspected her child may have allergies, but after taking the first steps to investigate getting the child into see someone, she abandoned the process because the allergy testing was going to be "too expensive". She decided she would chalk the issues up to sensitive skin, and wait things out. The next day, her Facebook status said she was going shopping.

I'm sorry....what?!?!? Why is it okay to spend money on clothes and toys and THINGS, but the cost of a simple test is too much? My children are too young to know if the clothes they're wearing are designer, but they DO know when they aren't feeling well. They deserve to have functioning systems and skin that isn't sore and itchy. Nothing makes me more upset than thinking I may have unknowingly given my son an allergen that has messed his system up. The pain he is in just isn't worth it.

So maybe my priorities are out of whack. Maybe you're judging me for being so uptight when it comes to food. Believe me, I know that my inlaws think that I'm uptight for being so rigid about sugar. Maybe you think "what can it hurt?". But the more I know, the more I realize that it does hurt them. A lot.

Maybe that's why so many people bury their heads in the sand. It's easier to whip out that frozen convenience dinner than to actually put effort into meal preparation. It's easier to change your laundry detergent because of your child's "sensitive skin" instead of actually finding out what's wrong. Because once you know, you have to change. And change isn't easy and requires work. Maybe it's easy for me because I'm at home and can devote the time.

All I know is that I look at these little people that I created and believe with my whole heart that they deserve the best that I can give them. Regardless of cost or effort.

My priority list

2010-12-11T08:48:00.000-08:00

My husband, and my marriage, are my most important priorities.

I'm saying this outloud so that I never forget this very true statement.

We just returned from a much-needed vacation, just the two of us. I was feeling particularly burned out -- exhausted, tired and sore from the constant lifting and running after two children. The considerable bulk I'm carrying around my middle isn't helping matters either. We haven't had time like that together in well over a year, and we were definitely feeling it. Although we're very blessed and have my mom who is always willing to babysit for us, it's getting harder and harder to just get out and spend time together. Forget about extended periods of time, even date nights are getting challenging.

Being away, with no responsibilities, was a dream. The warm weather was a plus, but it was really more about being together and being able to focus on JUST each other. Well, and ourselves a little bit too. Let's be honest, being able to feed myself first, when and how much I wanted, was almost the nicest part of the whole vacation!

I know many people are probably thinking "how can you not put your children first"? As mothers, we're almost preprogrammed to put the needs of our offspring before our own, to continually sacrifice for their betterment. Only enough food in the house for the kids? Mom will go without. Laundry needs to be done? Kids clothes are always clean, and mom can wear those dirty pants again (who will notice one more day?). Only have enough money for one extracurricular activity? Well Little Johnny can play soccer this summer, and mom will do without a haircut for awhile.

I don't really subscribe to this way of thinking. While I admit that more often than not I look a little bit frumpy (it is hard to be a stylish, pregnant, stay-at-home mom), I refuse to be "that" woman who has beautifully groomed children while I go without new clothes for years and years. I refuse to let them be the only ones in this house that enjoy life. And I REFUSE to let them grow up in a house where mom and dad don't have anything in common anymore. I see having balance among family members as being the best way to put my kids first.

My health and well-being is important. If I don't feel good about myself, I won't have the energy to devote to the others who need me to be "on". Sometimes that means getting a hair cut. Sometimes that means doing something I love, like playing baseball once a week in the summer, or going out for dinner with friends. Sometimes it means doing something drastic like leaving for the weekend. My husband deserves that alone time as well. He goes hunting in the fall, fishing in the summer, and this summer he, too, is going to play baseball once a week. It's important that we feed our souls so that we can be emotionally (and physically) healthy for our children. It's also important that we teach our children that while they are they most important people in the world to us, the world does not revolve around them.

But really, what matters more than those things, is that we have a happy and healthy marriage. My husband and I were a team before we had kids, and once the children grow up and become more independent (and eventually, hopefully, leave home), all we'll be left with is each other. If we spend the new few years focused only on the children, we'll have nothing left when the children are gone. More importantly than that, my children deserve to live in a home where their parents love each other. Children grow up with good self-esteem and confidence when their home life is happy, and we (the parents) are the foundation of that happy home. Also, I want to show my boys what they should be looking for when choosing a mate, and my husband is a shining example of how they should be treating their future partners.

So is it selfish that we take time away from our children? Maybe. Personally, I see it as an investment. An investment that they will grow up to be secure, confident young men. And an investment that I will have a partner for my whole life, not just a partner "for now".

So let me ask you....have you dated your husband lately? Have you dated yourself? Maybe it's time to spend a little less on shoes and clothes for your children and a little more on finding something that feeds your own soul. Your children will thank you for it, I promise.

'Tis the season...

2010-11-22T12:21:00.000-08:00

....for ridiculousness.

Christmas used to be my favourite time of year. The sights, the sounds, the smells....I loved it all. I also loved buying the perfect gifts for people. Sure, I usually went overboard, but it gave me some joy to buy things for people they'd never buy themselves. The best part, however, was spending time with my family and our Christmas traditions.

The last few years I have found Christmas incredibly stressful. Once we GET to Christmas, it's fine. I still love being with my family and going through our usual rituals. And now that we have kids, it is really fun to start new traditions with them. But much of the joy has been taken from me, and I'm not sure why.

If I could skip through to December 24th, I'd be fine. That moment in church at our Christmas Eve service, I can almost feel the stress lifting off my shoulders. Maybe it's because I'm finally with my family, quiet and calm, or maybe it's because I know the stores are closed! I love hosting Christmas dinner. I love sitting around the lit tree, eating until we're totally stuffed, hanging out in our pyjamas...to me, THAT is what Christmas is about. Obviously, it's about more than that (if, like me, you believe in the birth of Christ), but ultimately my "reason for the season" is being with my loved ones.

So why oh why are we constantly inundated with commercialism and materialism at every turn?

I don't get it. I just don't understand the need to buy my kids the "latest and greatest" crap that they a) don't need and b) don't want. Ensuring that they have more toys than they know what to do with does not mean I love them. Limiting the amount of gifts they get at Christmas does not mean I love them less. I have a real problem with the excessiveness in any form, especially when so many around us are in need. REAL need. My kid does not NEED anything. Neither does anyone in my family or extended family. We all live very blessed lives. We have a roof over our heads, food on the table, heat, hydro, clothes...we have everything we need to live comfortably. We can even afford extras. My children can do extracurricular activities. My husband and I are fortunate and can afford to take a trip together. We are VERY blessed.

Some may argue that my children have "wants". Really? At three and one, do they really WANT anything???? The only reason they would want for anything at this age is if I tell them they want it. Or, if someone else tells them they want. I know that at some point they will be exposed to greater outside influences that will encourage them to "want" -- school friends, TV, etc. But I feel that it is our job as parents to teach them that giving is more important than getting. More importantly, it is my job to set boundaries. It just becomes difficult when those boundaries aren't respected.

The last few weeks we have had some interesting sermons at church which have made me think about this issue even further. The gift of generosity and the discipline of simplicity are hard things to wrap your head around when our culture is working in exact opposition to these philosophies. I hope that I can model generosity to my children so that they understand it isn't just about the "stuff". It's about being generous with your time, your heart, your compassion. I want my children to understand that we have been very blessed, and that it is up to us to "pay it forward". The "stuff" they have won't make them happy, but loving their neighbours will.

So as we close in on yet another Christmas season, I hope I can find some inner peace and embrace the things I love about this time of year. Spending time with my family, planning a meal I know everyone will love, enjoying a glass of wine by the fire and the lit tree, cuddling with my kidlets in their fleece jammies...that is what's important. I hope that I can let go of the stress of the materialism that surrounds me.

Or turn it into a life lesson for my children. I'm pretty sure that is more productive than what I've been doing up to now!

Alone time

2010-10-24T18:30:00.000-07:00

I am a social being. I thrive on being with people, and generally would choose to be with someone rather than be on my own. That being said, I also require alone time to "recharge".

When I was working (pre kids), I desperately needed at least an hour of quiet at the end of the work day to recover from being "on" all day. This was one of the first issues my husband and I needed to work out when we got married. Not having seen me all day, he wanted to talk to me and discuss the day. It was hard for me to explain that I needed some quiet time before I was ready to be social. Obviously I wanted to see him too, but I needed to recuperate. My husband is also a morning person. He wakes up and is ready to go right away. I have teased him that he wakes up talking to me. I, on the other hand, like to wake up slowly and have a bit of time to process things before I'm required to speak. I think I need that time because once I start talking, I don't stop.

Of course, this is all B.C -- before children. In the B.C days, I had the luxury of quiet, the luxury of alone time. Now even my "alone" time is peppered with child interaction. Bathroom breaks, a bath while the kids are getting ready for bed, a trip to the store...I'm never actually ALONE (please find me a parent who gets to pee by themselves, without an audience, and I'll find you a liar). When I do get a few moments of time to myself, it is just that -- a few moments. A half an hour of time to myself while I run to the store to do an errand really isn't enough time to feel rejeuvenated.

My husband has always had time away. His fishing trip in the spring, hunting in the fall. Sure, he's with other people, but it's time away from his responsibilities. In the past, these trips never bothered me because it was his time to do what he loved, and in return he supported me while I joined a baseball team and got to do what I loved. But in the last year, I've been feeling more and more resentful that I don't have the same opportunities for quiet.

So I made one. I decided I needed a weekend away. A weekend of responsibility-free time. More importantly, a weekend of time where I could be by myself. I could sleep if I wanted, or see friends if I wanted. The time was my own.

I am now home from the weekend and it was lovely. I had dinner Friday and Saturday nights with friends, but the rest of the time I was blissfully alone. I even ordered room service for breakfast on Saturday so I didn't have to speak to anyone in a restaurant. I slept in. I went to a movie by myself. I watched TV. My husband was alone with both kids for the entire weekend for the first time. And we all survived.

I think we all needed this (my husband may disagree). I think it was good for him to spend that time with both boys. I think the boys loved having that time with him. As they get older, the "dad weekends" are going to be the ones they remember forever. I definitely needed some time away. I needed some quiet, some time to just be with myself. I had a lovely time with my friends, but an even better time when I was alone. Not having to talk, not having to think of an answer to "why mommy?", not having to plan dinner, not having to feel guilty for the mess that surrounds me -- well, it was pure bliss. And this may make me a bad mommy, but I didn't even miss them! Sure, I was happy to come home today. It was lovely to be greeted by little faces who missed me. I couldn't get enough of the hugs, and I really appreciated the special dinner the boys made. But while I was gone, I was happy to enjoy every moment of being alone.

I've informed my beloved that this needs to be a yearly occurence.

The Fertility Factor

2010-10-04T12:42:00.000-07:00

This may be my first "controversial" posting. I've struggled with writing this post for awhile now, but feel that I need to give another perspective. That's the whole point of my blog afterall -- writing to make you think.

I have been blessed with two beautiful children and a third on the way. Ever since I was very little, I knew I wanted to have children. Some people know they want to be rich or famous, some people know they want to be doctors or lawyers or police officers. My goals were never so lofty. My desire was to be a mother. I remember when I was younger, I figured by the time I was 25 (an old age in my mind), I'd be married with two kids. Obviously, life didn't work out that way for me and I am VERY grateful for that. Being an older mom has its challenges for sure, but I am so glad that I am the age that I am. We're financially stable, I've lived a bit of life and learned a little bit of wisdom along the way, and I was ready for my life to change.

Of course, by the time I was 31 and we were discussing conception, I had no idea if I even COULD conceive. By that time, I had watched many of my friends successfully conceive, start families, even have more than one child. I had also seen several friends struggle with conception. Some struggled for a few months, some struggled for a few years, and a few had to use fertility treatments. Some of these friends I was very close to and almost intimately involved in their fertility journey. I listened as they shared their deepest feelings about their struggles, I watched as they injected themselves with drugs, I hugged them and waited with them as the trying turned into failure, and I cried with them as those failures turned into successes. But most of all, I learned. I learned what it meant to want something so much and not be able to have it. I also learned that in a life where we think we can control everything, that sometimes the toughest lesson is realizing that we really have no control at all.

I haven't had the easiest life. There are so many details of my childhood that I'd rather forget. Even if I wanted to share them all, it would take me a year of posts (or more!) to recount them all. And even if I did try to explain my story, some of it is so unbelieveable it probably wouldn't sound real. At this point, 6 years in, my huband only has a vague understanding. He knows my mom (who validates me) and he's met my dad (the source of the problems), and there are times I think even he doesn't believe it all.

The last five years in particular have been incredibly challenging. I've suffered unimaginable loss and experienced enough sadness to last me a lifetime. Definitely more than my fair share I'd say. Of course, I've tempered that sadness with unimaginable joy -- marriage to my soulmate, birthing my children -- it all evens out in the wash I think. Every experience teaches you a life lesson whether you want to learn it or not.

It also teaches you empathy.

I find the people I'm most drawn to in life are the people who've suffered. Not that I seek those people out. But when you are around people that "get it", you find that they get you. Everyone wants to be around people who understand you, who care about you, who don't judge you. It is my personal opinion (and experience) that someone doesn't need to have experienced the EXACT same things as me to "get" me. They just need to be empathetic, and we all learn empathy in different ways.

I have a few friends struggling with fertility issues right now, and it is painful to watch. My one friend has been trying for 8 years and has finally started with fertility treatments. I'm excited for her as she begins this next chapter. There are a few others who are struggling and I'm praying for them as they make their way through their own journey, and waiting patiently to celebrate with them as those struggles become successes.

So why is it that I feel guilty because I haven't experienced the EXACT same thing? Why is it that some of these women have actually said to me "oh you can't understand what this is like for me"? Because no one life is the same, no one's experiences are the same as another, and no fertility issue is the same as another. So even if I DID experience issues with my fertility, chances are I wouldn't be able to "get" what someone else is going through anyway. And why is it that a woman struggling with infertility thinks that a woman who doesn't struggle can't possibly understand?

Despite the fact that I have experienced miscarriage, I have not experienced 10 miscarriages, so I have no idea what that feels like. I also have no trouble conceiving, so I have no idea what it feels like to be told that the only way I will ever have a baby is if I pay $10,000 to the IVF doctor for scientific treatment. I haven't had to make the decision to dispose of my fertilized eggs that are being kept frozen, and I haven't had to rearrange my work schedule to ensure I could make it to the clinic every morning for blood work.

But I HAVE experienced loss. I would give back every positive pregnancy test if I could just see my sister one more time. Not that I would trade my children away, don't misunderstand. But I would take my sister being alive for a little bit of struggle with my fertility. I would struggle with my fertility if it meant I could spare my mother the pain of losing her child AND her only sibling. I would take a bit of struggle if it meant I didn't have to hold my new husband as he cried while saying goodbye to his father.

So while you make me feel guilty for my fertility success, or tell me "I'm so lucky" because I don't know how it feels, or ignore me and throw away our friendship because you just can't bear to look at my pregnant belly or hear about my babies, think about this: I've more than paid for my fertility success. Maybe God decided I've suffered enough for one life so this ONE thing gets to be easy for me. You know the saying "God only gives us what we can handle"? Maybe he knew I couldn't handle yet one more struggle, one more setback. Maybe He realized that I was maxed out and so this gets to be one thing I don't have to worry about. And because of my life experiences, why don't you realize that I DO get it. Probably more than the woman beside you in the fertility clinic gets it.

This is why I've chosen birth education and support as my career path. No matter how and when conception happens, it's a miracle each and every time. Each life is precious, and I want to be there, to ride the highs and lows of conception, pregnancy and birth. I want to witness and support the journey.

This is really why I'm "lucky". I'm lucky because I get to do what I want with my life. And I definitely don't feel guilty for that.

Mommy heartbreak

2010-09-26T13:15:00.000-07:00

I thought I had a few years before I had to deal with this.

I was prepared for some sadness that comes with parenthood. The kind of sadness that comes when your baby turns one and you realize they aren't a baby anymore, or when they take a tumble and hurt themselves and you realize it was probably your fault they fell over that laundry basket in the first place....that kind of thing. I figured the bigger stuff was a few years off. The leaving home/breaking up with a boyfriend or girlfriend/saying "I hate you mom" for the first time...THAT bigger stuff.

In this month's Today's Parent magazine, there was an article that talks about how to deal with your child when they've been rejected for the first time. Most of the children they were writing about were in the 8-9 age range. Kids that were joining a sports team for the first time, or entering the challenging social pool at school and finding out they may not have as many friends as the other kids. While reading, I was relieved to think that I had a few years before I had to figure out how I was going to cope with this. I think watching your child be rejected, while an important part of their growth and development, must be an awful experience for any parent.

My biggest fear in life is being a Helicopter Parent. I believe my job is to teach my children to be confident and self aware so I can release them into the big bad world to find their way. Obviously, along the way there will be lessons to teach them independence etc. In these early years, I'm trying to figure out my children's personalities in order to determine which "lessons" will serve them best. My oldest child is proving to be a challenge.

My first born is very social and outgoing. He plays well with others and likes to be outside. Having said that, he is also timid in new situations that don't involve me or daddy and can be overly cautious. He doesn't necessarily like trying new things, but once he has done something a few times, he loves it and will want to keep going. He's never backed away from anything, but in a new situation it often takes mommy being RIGHT THERE to keep him involved. This can be frustrating and endearing all at the same time. As he gets older and is edging ever closer to going to school, I want to ensure that he has the confidence to want to try things without me, and the independence to know he can.

We have a pool and it is important to both my husband and I that all of our children are a) comfortable around water and b) want to be in the water. So far, we have given birth to two little fish. This past summer, both boys wanted to be in the water all the time. Because of this, and because we are going to have three kids next summer, I decided to enroll the oldest in lessons this fall. I wanted to encourage him to continue to learn, but I was also hopeful that lessons would teach him a bit more independence. I was apprehensive when registering him as it became clear the only level he could be accepted in because of his age was a class with no parent participation. I wasn't sure how it would go, but decided to try it after being reassured we could drop out if it didn't seem like he was ready. The level was for ages 3-5, which is where part of my concern lay. There is a big difference between a three year old and a five year old -- especially when the three year old in question is my smaller-than-normal child.

The first class was okay, mostly because I was in the water too. Class two there was a different teacher, and she didn't let my son's tears and fear bother her, which was good, but it was still stressful to watch. I was pretty sure I wanted to pull him out of these lessons as it was clear he just wasn't ready for what they were teaching to his four and five year old peers. But, I decided to give it one more week because I also don't want to teach my children that it is okay to quit. BIG MISTAKE. It was the same teacher as week one. My poor child was scared to go into the water, but I convinced him that it was okay to sit on the edge with the other kids and at least watch what was going on -- which he did. He continued to sit on the edge for twenty minutes (this is a thirty minute class) without being acknowledged or helped into the water. I don't think it phased him as I'm sure he didn't want to go into the water, but I was sitting back watching my child be ignored, and I'm pretty sure that to date, this is the most difficult thing I've ever encountered. He sat there so quietly, just watching the other kids, and it nearly broke my heart. Sure, I'm pregnant and hormonal, but I spent the entire time fighting tears as I watched the teacher help every other child and continually pass mine over. When the teacher finally got out of the water, I asked him why he was ignoring my son, and he said he thought he was just "some kid watching the class" -- he had FORGOTTEN him! There are seven kids per class -- I would think that they'd be pretty easy to remember, especially the one who is the smallest and the scardest! After I finally convinced this teenage teacher that I wasn't crazy and my son was in his class, my poor boy finally got in the water....at 5:29pm, 1 minute before the class was due to end. I was livid and more convinced that the timing was wrong for my little "lesson in independence". We made it to the changeroom where I burst into tears because my heart was hurting from the pain I had inflicted on my son. I couldn't believe that such a small act of rejection had made me so upset. I'm never going to survive their childhood at this rate.

As my son hugged me and asked repeatedly "you okay mommy?", I realized that my son is incredibly sensitive and empathetic already. Maybe those are much more important qualities for a three year old anyway. One day he'll be independent and will want to do things on his own, without me. But empathy is a much harder thing to teach, and he seems to have it down pat. So what if he wants to be with me? Obviously I've done something right.

Man plans, God laughs

2010-09-20T12:23:00.000-07:00

I'm a planner. I can't help it. I've been this way as long as I can remember, and it isn't likely to change.

I've taken some flack for this in my life. The non-planners in my life tend to appreciate this quality about me. Other planners tend to either appreciate it, or fight with me about it. The thing about planners is we tend to be "type A" personalities. When you're friends (or colleagues) with other A types, conflict can happen.

There is comfort in plans. Knowing what is going to happen, and when, can bring stability. My childhood and teenage years were rather unstable, so I think my insatiable need to have my life planned out came from that. When I was young and single, every minute of my spare time was planned out. Which seems crazy looking back on it -- I had relatively no down time, and no time to be spontaneous. But, I liked it that way. It was comforting to know that I always had something to do, and always had someone to do it with.

As I've gotten older, I still like to plan things. However, I now appreciate the beauty of a "plan free" weekend, and the ability to make plans on the fly. So while every minute of my life isn't scheduled, there is still an underlying plan to everything I do.

Fortunately, I married a planner. We work well as a team. Now our plans include where we want to be in the coming months, what our life looks like in 5 years, and what we want our retirement to look like. We plan for our children's futures as well as our own. We're very responsible (ha ha).

Having children was part of our plan. We even planned out how many we would have and when they would come.

Until this summer. This summer, I learned a valuable lesson. My life lesson is that you can't put too much faith in the plans that you make, because ultimately it's not you in control. And so, despite our plans to wait a year before adding to our family, we found out we were expecting our third child.

The news threw me for a loop. Our other two children (and the baby we miscarried in between) were very planned. This third baby was planned for, just not yet. Having my second and third so close together in age seemed daunting at first (they'll be 18 months apart). We had just gotten the second baby to start sleeping well. This last year has been exhausting, and I questioned whether I could do it all over again so quickly. I wanted to enjoy my children a little bit before having another baby around, and all that comes with that (meaning, my dreadful sickness in pregnancy). I wanted to enjoy my husband for a little while before we added to the craziness of our house. I wanted to enjoy my house -- do some more renos and prepare properly for three children.

Once the news sunk in, I was thrilled -- obviously. We wanted three children. I'm actually looking forward to having them close in age. I think this is going to be a wonderful thing as they grow.

No matter what, I recognize that we are very blessed. Blessed that we can have children. Blessed that I have a choice. Blessed that we have a good support system around us so that we will have help in the early days (and beyond). And blessed that we're living the life we truly want. Whether or not I plan every detail doesn't really matter. What matters is that I am lucky to be living my dream. How many women can truly say that?

My baby is one

2010-09-14T19:33:00.000-07:00

Just over two weeks ago, my baby turned one. I can hardly believe it...it seems like just yesterday I was dealing with the craziness of newborn sleep, nonstop feedings and sleep deprivation.

I have a hard time with the first birthday for some reason. I thought the first one was bad. But this past year has literally flown by. Even when I was in the throes of no sleep (and I don't mean the newborn days either) and thought it would never end, I look back on it and can hardly remember much of what happened. And all of a sudden I am the mom to a toddler and a preschooler and am not sure how that happened.

My children are so beautiful, it hurts my heart. My 3 year old is funny. He knows how to make you laugh, and does things on purpose to get a laugh. A natural charmer. He's incredibly smart, and very observent -- you can't get anything past him. My baby is starting to prove that he's a bit of a charmer as well. Big blue eyes that get whatever they want. An easy smile, a quick laugh, big hugs and kisses for anyone who wants them....and it appears he's going to be a chatterbox like his big brother.

I've been home with them for a year now. Officially, my maternity leave ended a month ago, so being technical, I've been stay at home mom for a month. But I never felt like my maternity leave was a "leave"...it felt like I was starting my new life. I feel so blessed that we have a choice. A choice to have a parent at home with our children as they grow. I feel lucky that the parent is me.

So what I have I learned this year? I've learned that extreme sleep deprivation does make you crazy. I've also learned that when you take a minute, there really is a well of patience just waiting to be tapped. I've learned that being present in the moment is more important than being on time. I've learned that everything can be fixed by a mommy cuddle/kiss/hug, even if mommy was the cause of the problem in the first place. I've learned that child hunger and fatigue is the biggest cause of child meltdown, and when said child is in the throes of said meltdown, the only person who can honestly be blamed is me. Thus, I've learned that being organized and ensuring snacks and food are on hand at all times is important. I've learned that "mommy instinct" is real, and mine is strong. I truly am the best judge if something is "wrong" with my kids, and I'm most definitely their best advocate. I've learned that my love is infinite, and it grows and changes every day. And just when I think I love my family the most I possibly can, tomorrow comes and I learn there is more to love.

And, I learn there is more to learn.

So here's to another year of tomorrows. May I be open to the life lessons my children teach me -- open to change and growth, and open to being present in the moment.

Technology free zone

2010-08-20T17:59:00.000-07:00

My computer is finally back up and running. It has been a long two weeks.

So much of my life is online. All my contacts, emails, addresses, phone numbers etc are stored in my email inbox. I went to register my oldest son for swimming lessons the other day and realized my family PIN number was stored, in my files, in my email inbox. Fortunately, I was able to call and have them look it up, but when you're relegated to calling, you have to do things during business hours. Business hours in this house are also known as "when the children need me most" hours.

This is why I love online. You can socialize, shop, register, email, blog, and more, all at times that are convenient for you. Of course, sometimes I tend to do things too much by email. It was almost a joke that I actually had to call people during the two weeks I was without a computer.

Having said all this, it wasn't a bad thing to have a break. I am a little bit addicted to my online life. I have many friends that I keep in touch with online, and I missed talking to them while I was out of touch. But, on my forced hiatus, I was able to rest more and get a few things cleaned up. Not always a bad thing to be forced into the real world.

However, I'm happy to report that I'm back up and running. But maybe my little lesson in all of this is to live in my real life more often.

Vacation

2010-08-04T06:22:00.000-07:00

We just got home from vacation, and as usual it was too good, and too short.

Every year, we visit the hunt camp where my husband is a member. In the summer, the camp gets used as a cottage. By hunt camp stantards, it is extremely luxurious. As a cottage, it's rustic...but comfortable and functional. The only thing that's missing (as far as I'm concerned) is indoor plumbing. Specifically, flush toilets. There IS a shower, so that's something.

This spot is my husband's most favourite place on earth. It's his idea of heaven, and he looks forward to being there every year. He goes for a long weekend in the spring (to fish), hunting in the fall, but I'm starting to think that the week with his family might be starting to edge its way to the top as his favourite week of the year. I'm pretty sure his top moment was when his young son had his fishing rod in his hand for the first time, and then caught his first fish (albeit a small one they had to throw back). My husband has waited for that moment since they announced "it's a boy" in the delivery room.

The boys loved being there. They adapted beautifully, and we had no issues with their sleep. They LOVED being on the boat, and we spent most of their waking hours going for long boat rides (which in turn, fueled their sleep). It was a nice vacation for me as well, as I didn't have to do any cooking all week. I managed to do a lot of reading and resting, which is actually the best kind of vacation. Believe it or not, the best part about the week was being "screen free". No phones (there is no phone there, and no cell coverage), no TV, no computer. Usually, I'm antsy to get home and "catch up". But this year, I was actually sad to leave and come back to real life.

The whole week I realized that the best part about being there is the quality family time. I thought we were pretty good about spending family time together. There are many nights (and often most weekends) were we have no scheduled plans. Much of our time is spent just "hanging out". Which is great, but hanging out at home means chores: cleaning the house, doing laundry, going shopping, cutting the grass, cleaning the pool....the list really is endless. So while we're together, we're not really TOGETHER. Being away from home, away from all of our distractions, meant we relied on each other for entertainment. My husband and I played scrabble in the evenings. We read. We played with the boys. We TALKED. Really talked. Not about the kids, not about our to-do list, but talked to each other about real stuff. Made me realize I had missed that. Also made me realize I've been doing a terrible job at "plugging in" to my REAL life. Of course, I plug into my perceived real life -- I keep up-to-date via computer and TV. I play with the kids. But so much of our time is spent going through the motions -- okay, now I have to feed you, clean you, dress you, take you out and run errands, get you down for a nap...sigh...it's almost dinner time and then blissful bedtime....our days whip by in a blur. By the time my husband is home, it's all I can do to get dinner on the table, and then go to bed myself. Our conversations revolve around what happened today, what needs to happen tomorrow, what is planned for the weekend...before you know it, months have gone by.

So, instead of waiting for my one week a year with my family, I'm going to try and take the lessons learned and apply them to my real life now. Really focusing on the now. Maybe we can't take the boys for a boat ride, but I can keep them playing and happy. The errands can wait. The laundry can definitely wait.

But first, I need to take some time with my husband and have a conversation that doesn't start with "so, today I ....".

Looking for the light

2010-07-13T17:58:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been so low you didn't know where to turn? Thought about ending it all? Wanted to walk away from your life and start over where no one knew you?

I'm sure everyone has had a low point in their life. One of my lowest points came at what I knew was the end of my first marriage. Things were so bad, no one really knew the extent of how bad, and I had virtually no support (other than my mom...once again, thank GOD for her). I remember sitting on the bathroom floor for 3 hours, holding a bottle of pills, trying to find a way to end my pain. I finally got up off the floor, called my doctor, got on some anti-depressants, and then called my counsellor. A year of hard work and self-reflection ensued, but I emerged a healthier, better version of myself.

I'm grateful for the low points. This is only one of many. The pain of the lows is terrible. It can rip you open and make you change in ways you didn't realize you needed to, or maybe even wanted to. But when you make it through to the other side, you can appreciate the highs of life so much more. Life seems sweeter somehow. Maybe it's because you have a deeper appreciation for everything that you have. It's that appreciation that prevents you from ever taking anything for granted.

Because I've had so many lows throughout my life, I have a hard time relating to people who've always had it "good". I also have a hard time relating to people who don't let their lows affect them and try to pretend that everything is fine. Why should I pretend things are fine when I'm in the middle of heartbreak? I don't understand the need for a "show". But maybe that's just me.

Last week, we lost my uncle. Totally unexpectedly, and far too soon. He was at our house on Sunday celebrating my son's birthday. Monday he was found dead. He was 52.

My family is very small. It's me, my mom, my brother, my grandma, my aunt, uncle and their 3 kids. I have a great aunt who was also part of the frey, but dementia is slowly taking her. We've already lost my sister, and in such a small group, that void was more than noticeable. Losing my uncle leaves another huge hole. My heart aches for my family. For my mother, who lost her only sibling. For my grandma who lost a child. For my cousins who shouldn't have had to lose a parent so young. For my brother who was very close to this uncle. And for me, because I feel like I can't quite handle this sadness.

My uncle lived his life to the fullest. A gregarious personality, he did things big. My insightful cousin mused that perhaps he had burned up life -- had to go out big like he had lived. I think that's probably very true. After his death, we found out he had been diagnosed as bipolar and had been on medication for the past few years. I wish we had known. The outcome may not have changed, nor our interactions with him, but it makes me sad that we had no idea the burden he was carrying. I will probably wonder for the rest of my life what pushed him over the edge that day, but I am not angry. It's almost too sad to be angry about. I'm sad that he was so alone, so lonely, and so desperate. And I will miss him terribly.

The process from death to burial was so fast, I feel like we only just went through the motions. I hope my family is taking time to grieve, and knows that the time they need may be a lifetime. I've learned the hard way that time does not heal such hurts, it just gives you a different way of coping with your loss.

On a happier note, my first born turned three last week. I can hardly believe that this little man is the same child I brought home from the hospital just yesterday. I love him so much my heart hurts with it. He is funny, and sweet, and loving and attentive. I am so proud of the person he's becoming, and yet I want him to stop growing up. Right now.

Lifestyle changes: Choice vs. Need

2010-07-01T14:14:00.000-07:00

I started this blog because I decided to make some lifestyle changes. Mostly, those changes revolved around food and my relationship with food. I look back at the last 6 months and can't believe how far I've come, and yet I know I still have a way to go.

For the most part, I continue to eat gluten-free. The baking/cooking I do for my family is gluten and sugar-free, and we follow the "clean eating" guidelines. Both my husband and I have lost weight (although I've plateaued), and I feel so much better. When I slip and have wheat, it causes me a lot of pain. Sometimes it's just worth it and I live with it (because sometimes I just NEED Marble Slab). Sometimes, I'm somewhere and gluten-free isn't an option and I live with it (because a girl's gotta eat). At the end of the day, whatever I put in my body is my choice and I choose to live with the consequences.

But I found out yesterday that I no longer have a choice about this.

Over the last 6 months, my family has been (for the most part) eating like me. But, there are times where I'm not as strict with them. The kids eat pizza (wheat), the toddler is ADDICTED to Cheerios (wheat) and the main staple in his diet is oatmeal (organic, yes but gluten-free, no). Sometimes, when we're out, it's just easiest to give the kids goldfish crackers (wheat) or something else along those lines. And while I limit dairy myself, the toddler drinks milk, eats cheese and loves yogurt.

Several months ago, the toddler started having some strange bowel movements. To be honest, his stool has never been what I expected (meaning, it's always been very, very soft). He's had several bouts of constipation thrown in there, and I've chalked it up to the fact that he's so darn picky and refuses to eat vegetables. But a few months ago, it became more than just "soft" -- it had turned to liquid. I was concerned, but explained it away as being a gastro-bug or something along those lines. But it never resolved itself. Then his energy level seemed to drop overnight. Back in April, he had several days where he seemed very lethargic, was more emotional than normal (a sure sign of fatigue with him) and had several unexplained bruises. I've had anemia, and thought I recognized the signs. I tried an iron supplement, which helped, but didn't completely resolve things, and it certainly didn't fix his bowel issues. I took him off of cow's milk and switched to goat's milk and that had no real effect either. A trip to my doctor resulted in no new answers. While my doctor was concerned, his answer was to do a stool sample to test for either a parasite or a bacterial infection. The results of those tests were negative, and we were no further ahead.

Since I tend to want more natural remedies anyway, a trip to a naturopath was our next obvious step. Our first visit was a month ago and she wanted me to take him completely off dairy. A challenging prospect, but he adapted rather well. He didn't really like the milk alternatives, so he just stopped drinking as much milk and tolerated a bit in his cereal in the morning. It actually meant I was able to break the addiction to Cheerios (even though I had switched to a gluten-free "O" cereal, I still didn't want him ONLY consuming cereal every morning) and he started eating more oatmeal again. I thought this was a good thing, as at least it has iron in it, and I can "hide" stuff, like almond butter, in it for added protein. Also at this first appointment I decided to go ahead with allergy testing. A simple finger prick and a slight bit of blood would tell us if there was something more going on in his little body.

We got the results yesterday.

I had been anticipating what they might be. I was hopeful that all we'd be dealing with was a wheat intolerance. Considering my own issues, and the fact that wheat intolerances/allergies are genetic, it was a likely prospect. I was also hopeful that we would not have to deal with a lactose intolerance.

Turns out my little man is allergic to quite a bit, and dairy and wheat are only the beginning of the story. He's also allergic to coconut (which was upsetting as I use coconut oil in EVERYTHING), almonds (there goes our favourite nut butter) and oatmeal. This is when it got stressful. Oatmeal is our go-to food -- his comfort food. How do you tell a 3 year old that he can't have his favourite food anymore? He's also mildly allergic to sugar. I found this a little amusing considering my view on refined sugar and how anal I am about not giving sugar to the kids. Even organic cane sugar is a no (which is all I use anymore). He's allergic to whey protein (which is in a lot of things). There were also a few other things on the list, but nothing that would be an issue like the afore mentioned (he's also allergic to oysters and coffee -- ew!). The one ray of hope was that although he's mildly allergic to casein, he's has a very low intolerance to goat's milk. So while goat's milk HAS casein, and he should probably avoid it for now, if he HAS to have milk, then we have an option. The worst part is that there is a chance that these allergies and his repeated exposure to them have been contributing to his slow growth.

So here we sit, no longer having a choice about our lifestyle. My child cannot, under any circumstances, have things on the allergy list. He can't be 90% gluten-free. He can't have dairy "once in awhile". And while a little bit of sugar may not hurt once in awhile, it's probably best if I stick to sugar-alternatives (like agave and honey). This is going to make things rather difficult for awhile. It means rigid label-reading at the grocery store. It means monitoring what he eats when we're out. It means no restaurants for awhile (until I can convince him that vegetables really won't kill him).

I am so glad that I choose to make changes to our lifestyle 6 months ago. While I need to be even more strict about things now, at least I'm not starting from scratch. I think things would be a lot more stressful and a lot more overwhelming if I had to make all these changes all at once.

Of course, I'm not sure how we got here. These allergies may not be ones he was born with, considering up until now, he's never had a reaction to food. It could be a combination of things. The most likely culprit is repeated exposure to antibiotics while in daycare which stripped his gut of all the good bacteria and opened him up to food sensitivities. So there is a chance he'll grow out of it. Fortunately we can retest in 6 months to a year.

For now, I need to sharpen my label-reading skills and educate our family on what they can feed my child when I'm not around. sigh.

Paralyzed by AP

2010-06-27T18:51:00.000-07:00

I am more Sears than Ferber.

If you're a parent, you'll know those names. Depending on what kind of a parent you are, you may be intimately familar with the teachings of one, or both, of these esteemed doctors.

When I had my first child, I didn't know there were "titles" for different styles of parenting. I just did what felt right to me, and what my own research had determined was best for my child. Of course, we were blessed with the easiest baby on earth, and never had to seek help for any issues. A good routine was easy to put in place because we had no one else to worry about except our small man and his every need.

As my parenting evolved to encompass another small man, I realized that the things that felt right to me fell under Dr. Sears' Attachment Parenting. Wikipedia describes Attachment Parenting like this. While I obviously don't hold hard and fast to any "rules", most of my parenting decisions fall under this theory.

Time and time again I have been encouraged to let my wee boy "cry it out". I couldn't do it. First of all, the child doesn't cry -- he screams. Secondly, the thought of leaving him, alone, in a dark room to just cry and cry -- seriously? Does this really sound like a good idea? But of course, everyone who has successfully had their child "cry it out" has a child who sleeps. The proof is in the pudding I guess. Of course, I am also skeptical of short term gain versus what the long term affect will be.

But things are bad. The situation was starting to impact my mental and physical health (it CANNOT be safe to drive a vehicle on as little sleep as I'm getting), and it was affecting my marriage. My husband and I were spending most of our evenings trying to either get our baby to sleep or get him to stay asleep. Often, getting him to stay asleep meant he was sleeping with one of us. And that meant we weren't sleeping with each other. I missed my husband. I'm sure he missed me. I'm unpleasant when I'm tired (that's putting it mildly), and I'm tired all the time these days. I realized the other day that it had been well over a year since I slept 8 hours straight. Because even before the babe was born, I was up several times a night to pee! It never occured to me back then (at 7 months pregnant) that I would still be sleep deprived one year later.

Last weekend, while my husband was away, I hit the end of my rope. I thought I had a lot of rope left -- apparently that wasn't the case. On the second night he was gone, the baby was up constantly -- every hour in fact. Nothing would settle him. By the time my mom came over after work, I was beside myself. When I tried to put the baby down to sleep, and yet again he was crying, I was at a total loss has to how to handle the situation. Thank goodness my mother was there (an AP parent ahead of her time!) to help me through. She reassured me he was fine -- he wasn't hungry, he wasn't in pain, he was dry. She encouraged me to leave the house and to let him cry. I walked to the mailbox half a block away, crying the whole way. Thank goodness my neighbours weren't outside! It was a much better night, despite it taking lots of tears -- from both of us -- to get to sleep. Each night got better, and by the time my husband got home, he was sleeping 4 hour stretches. By the next night, he went down with no crying at all.

I've shed many tears this week over this. Every time I heard him screaming, I just wanted to give him comfort. But I can't argue with the fact that he's sleeping. He's going to sleep without issue, he's sleeping decent stretches, and he's out of our bed. I feel selfish for being relieved I have a bit of my life back, but the evenings are so precious -- time with my husband, time for myself. This also means we can resume regular dates because the baby won't be causing trouble for our babysitter! (a.k.a. my mother)

I've been thinking about this all week, and wondering if I paralyzed myself from doing this sooner because I'm too responsive. Maybe -- but I'm okay with this. I'm not proud that I resorted to something that goes against my fundamental beliefs, but maybe that's okay too. In order for me to understand something, it's easier if I can say "I've done that". And maybe I needed to learn where the end of my rope was. Otherwise, I might have kept going until I hung myself.

MIA

2010-06-18T18:11:00.000-07:00

I've been MIA for awhile.

The last month has been a bit challenging, and while I do have a lot to say (as usual), I haven't been putting the effort forth to put "pen to paper"...so to speak.

On June 4th, we celebrated the 5th anniversary of my sister's death. The pain of our loss is still so present. It's not as raw as it once was -- time has a funny way of healing things. But I miss her...desperately...every day. I can't believe it's been 5 years. I look at my life, and where I was 5 years ago and it doesn't seem like that long. And yet, it's been a whole lifetime. A marriage, two children....so much she doesn't know about. Well...I think she knows. I think she's my angel, watching over my life and my children. They would love her, and it pains me that they'll never really know her.

We've also been struggling with the baby. Still. Again. He has such a beautiful personality -- quick to laugh, easy-going, constantly going and exploring. And then night hits and he's a whole new child. He's struggling with teething, but it seems to be an ongoing issue, even when no teeth seem to be imminently popping through. His sleep is terrible. Most nights, he's worse than a newborn. Sometimes he'll let daddy soothe him, and other times he just screams until he's in my arms. It's frustrating for both of us as neither of us know what to do, we don't know how to fix it, and it's never the same so we can't plan anything. I don't care that he's not sleeping through the night. Sure, I'd love it if he would, don't get me wrong. But at this point, I just would love some consistency. I'm sleep deprived and frustrated, which is a challenging place to be when you're the mother of two little people.

There are days where I feel like running away. I wonder if this is normal. I love being with my children, and couldn't imagine my life any other way. I'd miss them horribly if I couldn't see them. And yet, there are times when my husband comes home from work and the first thing I want to do is reach for my car keys and just keep driving. My husband leaves for a 5 day business trip tomorrow morning. I'm jealous. I'm jealous of the sleep he'll get. I'm jealous of the good dinners he'll eat. I'm jealous that he'll have 5 days of no parental responsibilities. To top it off, he'll be in a fantastic city! When I asked him if he was looking forward to this trip, he said not really (!!!). He was looking forward to being in this particular city, but he was not looking forward to being away from me and the kids for 5 days. Of course, I feel instantly guilty because I'm thinking "I would be jumping at the chance to leave!!". Would I really? No, probably not. Sure, I'd love some "me" time and some sleep, but I would miss the kids if I was gone that long. And I know my husband feels like he misses so much family time with working out of town and not getting as many hours in the day with us. Weekends are jam packed, and it is still not enough. I know that feeling. When I was a working parent, it felt like every minute with the family was precious.

I'm lucky that I have a supportive husband who allows me balance. If I need a break, I get it. He pitches in, he parents beautifully (even in the night!), and he supports me in pursuit of extra-curricular activities. Really, I have it good. I don't want to give the impression that I'm not grateful for this, because I am. But when you're as sleep deprived as I am right now, it's hard to see past the fact that you're not getting sleep. All you want is sleep. In a nice hotel room with black out curtains.

In the words of my incredibly wise toddler -- "one day".

Chores

2010-05-22T06:43:00.000-07:00

I'm a terrible housekeeper.

There, I said it.

The fact that this is a very true statement haunts me. I long to be a better housekeeper. I desperately want a clean house. A house with no clutter. A space that doesn't make me die of embarrassment everytime the doorbell rings unexpectedly. In my head, I'm very organized. I see the problem and I know what I can do to fix it. I see the mess around me and I know if I just got the broom out, I'd feel so much better. But the truth is, I hate cleaning. Sure, once it's done, I feel better and the clean brings about a sense of calm in me. But getting the motivation to clean is my biggest struggle. I would rather do just about anything else.

I could give you a million excuses as to why things don't get done. I've heard of every plan in the book, and I've even tried to institute them into our routine. The one I like the best is the "get one thing done every day" plan. Sounds easy, and it breaks the cleaning down into manageable chunks. I still hate it, and avoid it like the plague. Some days it works, some days it doesn't.

So what's my problem? This is my job, and to be honest, I'm not used to being so terrible at my job. Maybe that's very 1950's of me, but we are very blessed that we're in a position for me to stay at home and raise our kids. I feel that because I'm home, there are certain things I'm responsible for. Child rearing is one aspect of my job I take very seriously. I want to soak up every minute with these kids because they are growing way too fast for my liking. Playing, reading, hugging...this all takes time. It's all stuff I'd rather do than clean. Having said that, I do feel that certain house chores are also my responsibility. I like making dinner, I like baking, and I love laundry. Other than that, I could be perfectly content if I never had to clean another bathroom.

However, what impact is the messy house having on my kids? I don't want them to think that clutter is okay. I want them to start helping with small chores. The toddler sometimes will help clean up his toys, and he loves to help vaccuum. Obviously I want to encourage that behaviour, which is hard when I hate our vaccuum! (For some reason, I can't convince my husband that buying me a Dyson will make me want to vaccuum)

I need to get a handle on the problem. But where do you start when you feel so overwhelmed? My mother is a wonderful motivator. It's the Victoria Day long weekend, and while my husband is away fishing, my mom is usually over here, helping me start a big spring clean. However, she's away this year. Leading up to both my mom and husband being away, I was more focused on the fact that I was going to be alone this weekend. It wasn't until this morning that I realized I really do look forward to a big clean-up weekend. It's nice having someone else around to motivate me, and the results are always worth it. So somehow I need to harness that feeling to motivate myself.

sigh.

I suspect this will be harder than actually doing the work. Anyone have any motivating tips for me?

Changing your mind

2010-05-15T13:11:00.000-07:00

When having a discussion with someone, what does it take to change your mind? In a debate, will you fight your side to the end, or are you open to an alternative point of view? If someone tells you something, do you believe them, or do you require them to come to you with a sourced list of proof?

I love learning new things. Well, when the subject matter interests me that is. I'm certainly not signing up for any math classes these days! I've noticed that I'm quick to believe things that are shared with me when a) I trust the person who is giving the information and b) it sounds true. And by that I mean that it sounds like common sense. When I decided to change my lifestyle, one of the first things to go had to be sugar. Considering I'm a sugar addict, you would think that would have been difficult for me. But as soon as I started finding out what sugar actually does to you, it became easier and easier to give it up. (I'm referring to refined sugar -- I still use organic cane sugar, or other natural sugar alternatives when baking etc)

I tend to be a bit ...zealous...when I'm passionate about something. I'm acutely aware that I could learn a bit of grace in that department. However, I find it very painful when people have information right in front of them and either refuse to believe it, or don't bother seeking out information in the first place! I have found myself in several conversations lately where I am either debating with someone who clearly doesn't want to change their mind, or who has asked that I provide them with proof to back up what I was saying.

Proof? What kind of "proof" would make you believe me? And what is the point of a debate unless it is to open your mind to an alternative point of view? Of course, as I'm writing this, I realize that when it comes to certain subject matters, I'm never going to change my mind either. But if you're seeking out the information, are you doing so because you actually want to learn?

Keep pushing yourself to learn and grow. Eat better. Exercise. Stretch your mind. The proof will come when you feel better and know more. No one will believe you when you tell them how easy it is.

Out of the mouth of babes

2010-05-08T07:54:00.000-07:00

We're all aware that children teach you things about yourself. Things like patience and unconditional love. But every once in awhile they throw a curve ball, and all of a sudden you're learning a new lesson you weren't really expecting.

My brother and I have had a challenging relationship for the last 15 years -- or more. He struggled quite a bit in his teenage years after my father left. He's never really found his way in life, and although he is getting much better, he still isn't healed emotionally from all the trauma we experienced. His way of "acting out" is basically to ignore his family and disappear for weeks on end. It's better now than it used to be -- we at least now know where he is (he has a steady job and has been in the same apartment for 5 years). Eventually we know he'll make an appearance or return a phone call. At the risk of protecting his pride, I won't go into vicious detail about all the terrible things he's done in his lifetime. We can just leave it at the fact that he has hurt me. A lot. And often. What hurts the most now, however, is the disappearing. It bothers me to no end that his family seems to matter so little. He would never dream of cancelling plans on his friends or his girlfriend, but he thinks nothing of telling us he'll be somewhere and then just won't show up. I don't understand the need to lie. And then of course, true to his pattern, when he doesn't show up or lets us down in some way, he feels guilty and "disappears" for a time. And the cycle continues to repeat itself.

I am at the end of my rope with him. I wouldn't let anyone else treat me this way, so why do I continue to let it happen with my brother? Two months ago, I told our mother I was done with him. I didn't want him included in my birthday celebration because I didn't want to give him the opportunity to say he would be there and then not show up and ruin my birthday. Of course, mom invited him anyway and as usual he didn't show up. It's one thing to treat us this way. But my kids are almost old enough to realize they have an uncle they never see. It bothers me to no end that a) he seems to have no desire to have any relationship with his only nephews and b) that he is the only uncle (on my side) that they have and they don't have a relationship with him. As a mother, my first instinct is to protect my children from hurt. I don't want them to ever be hurt by my brother's lacklustre attitude toward family. I'd rather have no relationship at all with him if it ensures that he doesn't keep up this behaviour with the kids.

And then the toddler shows me what it means to really love someone, no matter what.

At night, we've started saying prayers with the toddler. He will say "thank Jesus for..." and then proceeds to list off who he wants to thank Jesus for. His uncle makes the list EVERY time. Sometimes I have to prompt him to remember me (!!!) or his brother, but never his uncle. He talks about seeing his uncle. He wants to call him on the phone. Considering he hasn't seem him all that often, he just seems to intuitively know that his uncle needs to be loved just a little bit more than anyone else.

My mother has infinite amounts of patience for her son. Even when he's repeatedly treating her badly, she that just knows one day he'll come around and her job is to love him and be there for him when he does. I look at my own sons and although I pray we're never in the same position with them, I also hope that if we are, I will have the patience and fortitude to love them extra hard through their struggles.

For now, I will follow the toddler's lead and just love my brother and work hard to accept him for who he is. When he does come around, I'll make the most of our visits, and let him forge his own special relationship with my boys. Maybe that's all he really needs anyway -- a little acceptance. Isn't that what we're all searching for in life? To be loved and accepted for who we are?

I am glad my almost-three-year-old has such high emotional intelligence, and I'm even more grateful for the fact that I'm paying attention.

A birthday celebration

2010-04-28T12:26:00.000-07:00

Today would have been my sister's 30th birthday.

I loved turning 30. I was happy to get out of my twenties, which were problematic, traumatic and fraught with disappointment, stress, depression and yo-yo weight gain/loss. A month before I turned 30 I met my husband, and things in my life were really starting to fall into place. I was happy. I threw myself a party (you know...if you want things done right, do them yourself....) and had a great time. My biggest regret from that night was not spending more time with my sister. My sister loved dancing. She was having a great time at the bar, and didn't want to leave with my mom. I promised her I would take her out dancing. I never got to follow through with that, as 2 months later she unexpectedly passed away.

I often wonder what she'd be like now. Would turning 30 be as big a deal to her as it was to me? Would she have met someone who really understood her? How would aging affect her and her health?

Saying "I miss her" is an understatement. Sometimes the feeling of loss is so overwhelming, I'll find myself crying in the strangest places. (One day, I was walking down our street, pushing the boys in the stroller with tears streaming down my face. I'm sure I looked like a crazy person) Part of me just misses HER. She was definitely a unique person, and we didn't always get along, but she was funny and generous and kind...I miss having her in my life. It also makes me desperately sad that she never got to know my children. I know she would love them, and she would be around them all the time. She would have been such a great influence for them.

So tonight, we will get together and celebrate her. The things she said, the things she did, and hopefully through our storytelling around the dinner table we can give the kids a glimpse into what she was like and who she really was. I never want to forget those pieces of her, because I can still learn lessons from her pure heart even now. But the biggest lesson is never put off til tomorrow what you can do today. Because you never know when that 'tomorrow' might not come.

Colours

2010-04-22T19:07:00.000-07:00

I see in colours.

I realize that's a silly statement. Don't we all see in colours? What I mean is, when I look at someone, I usually see what colour they are. Not all the time, but sometimes I just have an overwhelming sense that someone is "x" colour.

When my first born was small, he just felt like blue to me. I dressed him in blue clothes often. This had nothing to do with the fact that he is a boy, but more to do with the fact that blue looks really good on him. When I thought about decorating his "big boy" room, I just knew it had to be blue. No other colour felt right. To me, blue is a serene colour, a calm colour. And the toddler was, and is, a calm child. And he still looks good wearing blue, in his blue room.

The baby is a different story. Despite his fair colouring and his bright blue eyes, I don't see blue with him. I see green and brown. Sure, blue clothes look good on him, but they aren't the first clothes I reach for. He's been wearing a lot of brown lately. And when I think about decorating his big boy room (not yet!!! but one day....), I know it is going to be in tones of green. I don't think of green as a high energy colour, and this child has energy to burn. I'm not sure what to make of it.

My husband is also blue, but a deep blue. The kind of deep blue you see in the ocean. But he's calm, steady, and has a heart so big and deep -- it fits. And he looks great in blue too. No wonder most people think the toddler looks like him.

My mentor is a pink. Every time I'm around her, she just glows this lovely pink hue. Maybe it's because she's full of love and grace and confidence. And pink clothes look great on her too.

I think the colour thing has to do with the energy I feel when I'm with someone. Maybe that's why it doesn't happen all the time -- just when the energy is really strong. I wonder what colour people see when they look at me.

So in your life...what colours do you see?

1 + 1 = 4?

2010-04-17T11:35:00.000-07:00

There is a message board I frequent, and a lot of us "regular" posters have been around a few years now. I've been a member since I was pregnant the first time...so more than three years now. Many of us have already had our second baby, but there are lots of women still contemplating taking the plunge again. In my real life, I have never encountered this, but there seem to be a lot of women in my online life that question whether or not they should have another baby. Even if they planned on having multiple children, somehow they get caught up in the small details about having another baby and it becomes too overwhelming.

The most common question asked to the "moms of two or more" is this: Is it a lot of work going from one child to two?

Honestly, adding another child to make us a family of 4 was almost no work at all. However, I also didn't find it a lot of "work" to add one child to our family. I often think that people who ask this question had a very hard time adapting to how their lives changed once they had that first baby. Or, they had a difficult baby, or some other issue, that made the whole experience seem like work.

The most recent online coversation around this brought out several interesting answers. Several of us answered that no, it wasn't that much more work. I mean other than having to get two kids ready to leave the house, it hasn't been that difficult of a transition. It just is what it is. But one woman was seriously amazed that no one thought it was more work -- she almost inferred that we were lying by not admitting to the woman asking the question that yes, indeed, it was difficult and challenging to have another newborn in the house. Of course, this woman has had two very premature babies -- her first born at 28 weeks and the second at 30 weeks. So yes, in that situation I would say it probably WAS a lot more work. That isn't a normal situation at all!

Many women find that once their children hit a certain age, things seem to be so much easier and they can't imagine going backwards (so to speak). So the question always seems to get asked by women who can't imagine disrupting their family of 3....they've got a good routine going, their child is starting to be more independent, they can't imagine the sleepless nights and all the "work" of a newborn, they can't imagine loving a second baby as much as the first, they can't imagine taking the attention away from the first born....really, a bunch of excuses that didn't ever factor into my decision making process.

I know we were lucky with our first baby. He was a dream. Easy going, good sleeper, adapted well to change, lovely personality, social. We KNEW we had it easy. But having an "easy" baby wasn't motivation for me to have another child. I've always wanted to have children. Plural. We have always planned on having three children, but honestly, I'd have more. Adding another member to our family hasn't been difficult, nor has it been more "work" for me. Sure, the dynamics of the family change, but that isn't a bad thing.

But if I'm being perfectly honest, things aren't as easy this time around. It isn't adding another member to the family, it's adding THIS member. This baby is a little bit harder to figure out. He's definitely strong willed, got a mind of his own, and is growing at such a rapid pace that it has caused us quite a few issues. He was a pretty good sleeper until he started teething. He doesn't deal with pain well. He's moving through gross motor skill milestones at such a rapid pace, I'm pretty sure he his brain can't keep up with all that change either. I'm tired and long for the sleep-through-the-night times of the first baby.

So would I do it again? ABSOLUTELY. There is no question that if I had to do it all over again, I would do it exactly the same way. I wouldn't wait for fear that it might be hard on me. I wouldn't choose to NOT have this baby because despite the challenges he gives us, he is so happy and loving and affectionate...he really is a light in our house. And knowing that this time we haven't sailed through the way we did the first time is also not reason enough for me to stop having children. I want more. I want more because these children are my heart and my joy and I'm so blessed to have them. They teach me more about myself and more about the things I want for our life than I could ever learn on my own. They've given me the gift of patience (which I'm still perfecting), the appreciation for time, and the kind of love I didn't know existed. And hopefully I'm loving them enough that they'll take care of me in my old age. Just kidding.....

So if you're asking yourself, "can I do this again?", I am here to promise you that you can. Because unfortunately (or fortunately!), nothing lasts forever. The constant waking of the newborn stage is gone in the blink of an eye. What was the reason you wanted to have a child in the first place? Go back to that reason, and no matter what comes your way, no matter what kind of personality your next child has, you'll be able to cope. Because you realize it's all worth it when those little arms are wrapped around your neck and your cheek is wet with their slobbery kiss.

Affairs

2010-04-14T11:44:00.000-07:00

I'm having a love affair. It's fine though, my husband knows all about it.

I'm crazy in love with my clothesline. Laundry is the one household chore I've always liked to do. Although sometimes I falter with the "final stage" of laundry (the putting-the-stuff-away step), I don't mind the actual washing/drying/folding part. But there is something about my clothesline that makes me want to do laundry EVERY day. When I decided to use cloth diapers with our second child, the most common comment I got was "oh man, what a lot of work! Won't that make so much more laundry for you?". My response was "yes, but I don't mind!". And it's true, I don't! If I'm already doing laundry for 4 people, what's an extra load here and there?

Fortunately, we've had a stretch of nice weather, so I have been doing laundry quite frequently. When using the clothesline, I have a little system for removing things, and I find the final step in the laundry process is no longer an issue. I love the smell of air-dried sheets on my bed. I am constantly amazed by the bleaching quality of the sun. My diapers are pristine, and even outfits I thought the baby had ruined with his poopsplosions are now perfect again. I live for the nice-days-in-March to the it's-finally-too-cold days in November -- our dryer never gets used.  I even love taking the clothes off the line. That 10 minutes of quiet outside at the end of the day....well, it seems doing laundry is relaxing for me.

I spend my days figuring out how to best configure our laundry room so I get maximum storage, a counter for folding and room for my we-can't-afford-them-yet front loaders.  I long for front loaders. I can't seem to convince my husband that we NEED them. And of course, I NEED them to be a pretty colour too. He figures what we have is good enough for now. Yes, they work....but front loaders are so much more energy efficient and use less water! At the rate I'm doing laundry these days, those have to be valid reasons for shelling out money for appliances, right?

Of course, my mother recently burst my bubble by reminding me that we recently had our smart meter installed, and therefore we're going to get dinged huge on our next hydro bill because I'm doing many loads during peak hours.    So I think I'm going to have to come up with a new system (or just work harder for my dream machines that use less water...). Of course, I'm not thinking of that new system right now as I watch my sheets blowing in the breeze. I'm just thinking about how great my bed is going to smell tonight.

Am I the only one having an affair with a household chore?

Lean on me

2010-04-10T15:46:00.000-07:00

As women, I think that we're generally pretty supportive of each other. I know in my life, I've purposely surrounded myself with like-minded people who will celebrate with me in the good times, cry with me in the bad, and root for me when I need a little "helping hand". In any group of friends, there are always the "go to" people. You know the kind -- the one person that will always say the right thing, make you feel like you are the smartest person in the world, or will hug you hard when you're struggling and not make you feel stupid for crying...again.

When I'm in a new group of people, I like to observe the dynamic. It is interesting to see different people interact, and I often wonder what draws them together as friends. I'm a people-watcher at heart, and there is nothing quite like people-watching in small social setting.

Today I was at a baby shower for a friend. This is someone I know from work, so I don't know any of her other friends. There were a couple new moms there, a few women without children, and a couple pregnant women. There is nothing quite like a shower to bring out the competitiveness between women. Which I never really realized before, but since this was the first time in a long time I didn't really know anyone else at the party, it gave me a lot of time to sit back and listen.

It struck me that when people should be the happiest for you, someone (often more than one person) ends up silently sabotaging. Like when you're losing weight, for example. Have you ever been in that position where you're doing really well with weight loss, and you've been very dedicated to a program, and you spend time with the one person who says "oh just have one, what will it hurt?"   Or when you get a promotion at work -- finally, someone has recognized your hard work, your dedication, and someone comes along and says "Oh wow, good for you. But won't this be a lot more work for you now?". Sounds supportive, right? It's all in the tone and delivery. Sure, logically you can tell yourself that person is just jealous of you. And they probably are. But wouldn't a better response be "That's wonderful, can I take you out for a drink to celebrate?" Or "you're doing so well, let's meet for a walk instead of dinner so you aren't tempted to stray from your weight loss plan".

So what is it about having a baby that gives women the license to sabotage their friend's happiness? My friend ...let's call her Jane....is extremely educated about birth. She has spent the better part of her pregnancy reading and learning about labour and birth plans.  I wish I had been as educated about the process as she is. She has hired labour support, and is 100% committed to having a drug-free birth. It's the one thing that she is firm on in her birth plan -- no epidural at all costs.   During the shower, her pregnant (and overdue) friend ...let's call her Stacy...was sitting beside her. Stacy is 5 days overdue, and going in for induction tonight. She was joking about how she couldn't get the epidural fast enough. Of course, it made me sad that a) she was going to be induced so early and b) just clearly wasn't educated enough to understand what she was in for in the next 24-36 hours. But I think what bothered me more was that Stacy is Jane's friend...a very good friend...and yet she didn't realize how much Jane knew already. Her first comment was "I'll call you Monday and tell you all about it". Okay, sounds supportive...right? But when you heard the tone, I just knew the sentence to follow was "I'll tell you how terrible and hard it was so that you're prepared".

Just to digress a bit...why is it that when you announce you are pregnant, every woman you've ever met (and some you haven't) will share with you their "my labour and delivery was SO awful" tales?

Back to my point: when these women were discussing labour and delivery, and my friend Jane was very open about the fact she is planning a natural child birth, Stacy pipes up and says "You can change your mind you know. You can always get an epidural half way through if you want".

Of course, this statement (at face value) is true. The beautiful thing about being citizens of this country is that we have choice. However, if you know Jane and you know her mindset, telling her "it's okay, you can cop out" is like offering chocolate cake to a starving person on a diet. Even if you don't agree, why can't you just say "that's amazing, I can't wait to hear your birth story"???

I know that even when we don't realize we're competing, somehow we end up being competitive. It happens, sometimes very innocently (the May issue of Today's Parent has a great article about competitiveness among moms). Other times, the intent isn't so innocent. I'm going to choose to believe that Stacy's comments today were meant to be supportive.  It just hurt me a little to know that it wasn't the kind of support my friend Jane needs right now.

This serves as a good reminder for me too.  I know I can be rather opinionated at times, especially when it's something I'm passionate about. So, for now, I love you and support you, no matter what choice you're making.  I'll hold your head back when you puke, I'll hug you hard when you're crying, and I'll buy you the first drink when you have news we need to celebrate.

Energy within

2010-04-05T12:59:00.000-07:00

Do you believe that things -- inanimate objects, material possessions, etc -- have an "energy" about them?

I've always believed (known?) that people exude an energy. We've all been around those people that can bring the feeling in a room either up or down, depending on their mood. My former boss was one of those people. You walked on eggshells around her until she said hello. With only her body language and that one simple word, you could tell how the rest of the day would go. Positive or negative, she definitely had a "force" about her.

Not too long ago, I learned that we (humans) exude a heart energy that can span up to 5 feet around us. So, when we are feeling stressed, the people around us can pick up on that. Which is why so often, as a mom, if I'm feeling totally angry or stressed out, my children tend to be a little bit more antsy as well. Since learning this little tidbit I've worked much harder at remaining calm and it's done wonders. Of course, it's easier to stay calm now that my hormones are more balanced since coming off sugar, but I digress....

Lately, I've been contemplating the potential that there is energy in the objects around us.

I often have house envy. I hate going to people's houses and seeing their clean, clutter-free homes. Or seeing brand new houses that are perfectly decorated. Makes me long for things I feel like I'll never have. But, I've also been in beautiful houses that are cold. You know the type -- the house that you're worried to sit on anything in case you spill? I'd like to think that although my house isn't clutter free, or tidy most days, that is exudes a warmth. I want my house to be a home where people feel comfortable to spill and where the walls are positively soaked with love and laughter.

Part of the reason I started thinking about this was because the baby seems to have a particular aversion to his crib these days. Only at night of course. So I wondered if maybe there is some energy in his room, or his crib, that is contributing to this cycle of terrible sleep we seem to be trapped in. While I believe that we got to this place fairly innocently (back to back illnesses, two new teeth), we seem to be stuck here with no improvement. So what gives?

When I was pregnant with the baby, my toddler showed no interest in giving up his bed. And, I wasn't willing to force him into leaving a crib before he was ready. So we borrowed a crib from our friends. My intention was to move the toddler into the borrowed crib, and keep our crib for the baby. However, the toddler had other plans. He is very particular about things, and he wanted nothing to do with the new crib. So, since the baby would have no idea, we just moved our crib into the toddler's room (where his big boy bed was all set up and waiting for him!), and have been using the borrowed crib for the baby.

The toddler's sleep habits are legendary. Right from the get go, he was a great sleeper. But he was also not a "typical" baby. He never hit any milestones at the "right" time. Ever. He never teethed, he never really crawled, he never really did much of anything....except sleep. And talk (which he still does). We knew we had it easy with him.

This time around, things are much more normal. This baby seems to hit every milestone when he "should". He is a terrible teether (clearly). He's already crawling. He is much, much more active. For such an active baby, his sleep was actually pretty good. Sure, I longed for a baby who slept through the night, but putting him to bed was easy and he would sleep long stretches and would only wake one to two times a night. So all in all, he was pretty good.

Until now.

So what's changed? Nothing is really different now than it was 2 months ago...other than the fact that he is much more mobile and has two new teeth to show for all the pain. But now that he can move, and the teeth have popped through, I figured we'd go back to normal. What was normal for him anyway. But we seem to be stuck. Which made me contemplate the energy in his room and his bed.

When we bought the furniture for our nursery, I was pregnant with our first child and we were obviously very excited. We picked out the furniture and it was a big deal -- it was the first furniture we had purchased together as a couple. We intended that crib to be used for all our children. A lot of our hopes and dreams are associated with that furniture, and I love it today as much as I did the day we picked it out in the store. We decorated the nursery with care and love, again intending it to be the room we put all our babies.

The borrowed crib is not something we chose. The house it came from is very different from our own, and the people who used it have a very different parenting style than we do. The mother who offered us the crib is one of the kindest women I know. She'd give you the shirt off her back if she thought it would help you, and I know it was that generosity of spirit that compelled her to offer us the bed where she'd had her own babies. Please don't misunderstand me, I'm grateful that they were in a position to help us out -- it saved us buying another piece of furniture. It just makes me wonder if this crib came to us with some of their "energy" attached to it?

Yes, I realize this is a little "out there", and I'm probably grasping at straws trying to fix a situation that right now seems unfixable. But last week, the toddler moved to his big boy bed on his own terms (hooray!) and wanted the crib taken out of his room. He's graciously (ha ha) allowed us to give the crib back to the baby. Maybe having the baby back in the bed that was intended for him all along will change the dynamic of his room. Maybe it won't.

No matter what, it makes my heart happy to lay my baby's head in the bed I want all my babes to sleep in. And maybe the toddler's sleep energy will rub off the mattress....

I can hope, right?

Bugs

2010-03-31T13:31:00.000-07:00

I have a fear of bugs.

I'm sure this isn't surprising, as most women I know have some sort of fear of the icky, crawly things. Spiders, snakes, insects....I have ZERO love for them. I suppose they all have some part to play in the rhythm of life, but I have no desire to know what that is.

Being the only woman in the house means that I'm in for a bit of trouble. If my niece can pick up bullfrogs and carry them around at the tender age of 5, I'm sure my sons will do at LEAST that....if not worse. (My niece is now 8 and very girly...wonder if she'll be picking up bullfrogs this summer....)

Right outside our front door is a HUGE colony of ants. And I mean HUGE. Last spring, my husband managed to make a natural ant-killer and covered our front pathway and steps. However, the ants are back, in full force. I don't know where they've come from, but they are everywhere. As we were coming in the house the other day, my oldest son just stopped and stared at all the movement on the ground. Of course, the "what's that" questions followed. I managed to give a few quick answers and ushered him into the house with very little incident. But it got me thinking...how long before he wants to touch bugs? Pick them up? SHOW me his new prizes?!? I shudder at the thought.

The last place I want my children to learn fear is from me. I don't want them to enter into life with preconceived notions like "bugs are scary". I want to nurture their curiosity and help them learn about the world around them, even if it's something I have no interest in. I mean, that's my job...right? Hopefully, most of this will be my husband's domain (they can discuss it while he's teaching them to bait fishing hooks), but the reality is, I'm with the kids the most. During the summer, it will be me taking them outside. At some point I'm going to have to get over my fears and encourage my children to be open to the world around them.

At the very least, I know I need to wipe the "ewww gross" look off my face when I'm explaining what ants are to the 2 year old. That is a start...right?

Aging brilliantly

2010-03-29T11:36:00.000-07:00

I'm about to turn 35. THIRTY FIVE. For some reason, that is a "scary age" for me. I love my birthday, and really, I feel the best that I have in years. I've officially lost 20lbs, and I feel amazing. From that perspective, I actually feel young. When I look in the mirror, I still see my young self. The accomplishments in my life (namely my children) let me know that I'm older than the face in the mirror seems. But older in my case definitely means better.

But 35 means I'm now in a new check box on a survey. I'm in the 35-44 age range on a questionaire. When I have to tell someone out loud how old I am, it sounds old to me.

Fortunately, with age comes wisdom. At least one would hope. This journey of detoxifying my life means that I am constantly engaging in self-reflection. This isn't a bad thing -- rather, quite the opposite. I like learning about myself, about others, about how we are making our way through this journey called "life". I want to keep growing and learning to be a better version of myself. I think I owe that to myself, my husband and my children.

I'm listening to Raquel Welch describe what it means to "age brilliantly". I guess it means something different for everyone, but for me it means living every moment of my life to the fullest. EVERY moment. Even the moments I wish I was somewhere else. We've been having a rough go with the baby lately and there have been several moments when I just wanted him to stop screaming and sleep. I've doubted myself more in the last month than I have since I became a parent nearly 3 years ago. Part of me feels like a failure because I can't seem to fix this myself. But maybe that's what it means to be wise -- to know when you're beat and ask for help. I'm sure I'll have more grey hair by the time this child turns one, but even at our lowest moments, I remind myself that I have the best job. I have the sweetest children, and I am so lucky to live this life. So, for now, I'll forget the number on my birth certificate and focus on living my life to the fullest.

Please remind me I said this when I complain that I'm tired. I need to relish these moments, because I know I'll be sad when they're gone.

A baby on strike

2010-03-24T11:04:00.000-07:00

The last few weeks have been difficult in our house. Between back to back illnesses and teething, the baby has been somewhat...challenging. He finally got over a cold and popped his first tooth so I thought we might be in the clear.

But no. Tooth # 2 seems to be presenting an even larger issue than the first one. Or, because the first one was masked by a cold/cough that lasted over a month, it's very possible I didn't realize how sensitive to teething he really is.

And now he's on strike.

I've never had to deal with this before. Of course, I say "never" rather tongue in cheek considering I only have one other child to compare him to. In all seriousness, I KNEW I had it easy with my first child, but the baby is certainly reminding me of that fact over and over again. The toddler never "teethed". His first tooth showed up one day when he was about 10 months old. It took until just this past fall, when he was nearly 2.5 for his final teeth -- his incisors -- to show up. Apparently they are the most painful. I wouldn't know that though, because he never complained. He also never, ever refused a feed. I could have fed that child anytime, anywhere. He was agreeable and adaptable. And still is.

I know that the baby is in pain. The drool is out of control and causing a nasty rash on his cheeks, chin and chest. His sleep is terrible. And yesterday, he went 12 hours and only nursed twice in that time. And those were mostly out of necessity...he was that starving. Of course, he makes up for it in the night, up every 1-2 hours to feed. Which, I don't begrudge him. I want him to eat. But it's exhausting for mommy.

Logically, I know there is very little I can do about this mini nursing strike. We're still trying to find ways to manage his pain, and so far, having very little success. The good news is, in between times, he's a very happy baby. Emotionally, though, it's hard knowing you're the "food train" so to speak and your child doesn't (or can't) want that! I can keep telling myself "he won't starve himself", but that doesn't make it any easier.

Like everything else, he's revealing his personality to me and it's up to me to pay attention. I already know he's a very determined little boy. Watching him move and reach and attempt to crawl is amazing. I suspect he may be a little bit stubborn too. Okay, maybe more than just a "little bit". But his smile lights up a room, and that laugh...oh he's so easy to laugh...which lets me know that he's going to enjoy life a lot.

So for now, I'll just hug him extra close, kiss him extra amounts, and when he's ready to come back and hang out with me, I'll be ready and waiting for him.

Food, glorious food

2010-03-17T18:39:00.000-07:00

The baby has hit the 6 month mark and we've entered into the solid food stage.

For the record, I hate this stage. Sure, I should be excited about all the new things my baby gets to try. But I'm a purist, and maybe just a little bit lazy. To me, it's so much easier when breastfeeding is enough. It's always the right temperature, always the right flavour and always with you. I like it when the child can eat everything you're eating at the same texture you're eating it. That is also easy. It was great when my oldest child was about one year of age -- he could eat at a restaurant pretty easily, and since we were fortunate to avoid any allergies, we never had to be careful with what we gave him.

I am more than a little bit anal when it comes to the food my children eat. Sure, I'm pretty careful about what we as a family eat in general, but I tend to be even more uptight when it comes to my children. I made all my own baby food when the toddler was at this age. I actually enjoyed making his food. Knowing I could control the ingredients (organic produce only!) and ensure I was giving him the healthiest start possible was great.

So what's my issue then? For some reason, it is during this stage that I question my parenting the most. What do I feed first? What comes next? How do I introduce the food? How old before I can stop listening to all the "rules"? I have trouble with "rules". I didn't pay attention to many when I had my first baby. I introduced peanut butter at 9 months (gasp!). He had honey before he was a year (double gasp!). I'm pretty sure he had whole eggs before a year as well. I just don't do well with rules.

I'm a go-with-your-gut kind of parent. I don't read parenting books. I use common sense as much as possible and generally just do what feels right. I'm not above polling my friends for opinions because I believe experience is the best teacher. It's because of some of this sage advice I decided to try baby-led solids (a.k.a baby-led weaning) this time around. I had heard about this before, but by the time I knew enough about it, the toddler was through the puree stage. Basically, the idea is to give the food...real food..and encourage self-feeding. They'll be better eaters because they can explore, and enjoy, the food themselves. (of course, there is a book that details this better than I can, but I don't plan on reading it...see above) So far, so good. The baby has taken to food SO quickly! It's amazing to me how he can grab onto the chunks and get it to his mouth. Oddly enough, I have forgotten everything I went through the first time. What food to feed first? When can I introduce meat? But, overall, this is way easier. I can feed the baby what we're eating NOW, instead of making sure his food is all pureed. And, because I am careful about what we eat (organics only!), I'm still comfortable with the nutrition he's getting.

Maybe this time the food stage will be more fun so I can stop doubting myself. And maybe this child will inherit my love of food.

Spring fever

2010-03-12T06:36:00.000-08:00

What is it about this weather that makes us all a little delirious?

I've been enjoying the sun. We've been going out every day for walks, which is great considering the boys and myself have all had colds this week. Of course the baby is hardest hit. As I write this, I'm looking out the window and hoping the rain holds off so we can get out for another walk this morning.

I've never felt the desire to be so active. The sun seems to be calling me outside. And of course, the boys seem to like being outside too, so that makes it easier to go out. I love the smells of spring. The fresh scent that permeates everything and just makes me want to wash my sheets every day so I can hang them on the line. I love falling asleep to that scent.

So instead of sitting inside, I'm going to pack up my two sickies and grab them some more of that fresh air. Hope you're enjoying the weather too!

Personality traits

2010-03-07T08:44:00.000-08:00

My son is a scaredy cat.

I'm sure I've talked about this before, but the inherent personality differences between my two boys continues to amaze me. Of course, everytime I think of this subject, I start pondering the whole nature vs. nurture thing. I mean, same parents, same mama's milk. It's fascinating.

The toddler is a very sensitive, affectionate, empathetic little boy. He is also very social, very talkative, and very engaging. He loves being around people, yet can play independently as well. He's extremely polite and contientious for someone his age. He is very slow and doesn't like to be rushed. He is very funny. His mannerisms, experessions and the words out of his mouth constantly have us in stitches. I am also discovering that he is very timid. Not in a shy way (he certaintly isn't shy), but more in a "I don't want to try new things" kind of way. He's not very adventurous.

He's always been very little. He is much smaller than his peers, and it took a long time before he was mobile. He learned how to use his words at a very young age because that was all he had. Even now, he is more apt to say "no" to something than to run away. Unlike other kids his age, he doesn't run very fast, he doesn't climb, and he most certainly doesn't jump. Well he THINKS he jumps, but it isn't really jumping as you or I would do. All of this has made for easy parenting for me. I never have to worry about "what he'll get into next". I can leave him unsupervised while I go put the baby to bed or go to the bathroom because I know he'll still be where I left him.

When I say he doesn't like to try new things, that isn't completely true. He does have completely age appropriate behaviours. The trouble is, he's so little, he can't quite do what his friends can do. For example, he used to crawl up and down the stairs. Now he always wants to walk up and down the stairs, while holding the railing. He has very little legs, and can't walk up the stairs without always holding onto someone's hand as well. He also can't reach the top of the railing, so he holds the spindles instead.

I've been noticing lately that the older he gets, the more timid he seems to be getting. Maybe timid is the wrong word. Maybe "cautious" is a better term. He will play independently, but only if I'm in the same room. If I leave the room to go to the bathroom, or to put clothes in the laundry, he follows to find out where I've gone the second he notices I've left. If he wants to go to another room to play with the toys that are there, he will only go if I accompany him. He hates being lifted upside down and spun around. His type of "rough housing" is done on the floor when he can control what is going on. He hates it when you purposely try to "scare" him. All of this is no big deal. But what is more concerning is that he seems to have developed a giant fear of dogs.

It's not like we're never around dogs, but they aren't part of our day-to-day routine. His cousins have a very small dog and while it usually takes him a bit to get used to the jumpy, yappy nature of this dog, by the end of the visit he loves the dog and talks about her for days afterwards. Last night we were at our friend's house, and they have a chocolate lab. A beautiful, good natured dog who is about 5 times the size of my son. As soon as the dog came within 10 feet of the toddler, he freaked out. It got even worse when the dog got close to him. I've never seen such terror in his face before, and all I wanted to do was protect him, yet at the same time I kept saying "don't worry, the puppy won't hurt you". What do you do in that situation? How do you encourage your child to be in a situation he clearly doesn't want to be in, yet you know he needs to learn how to cope with? I don't want my child to be fearful of anything. I want him to know that even if he's uncomfortable in a situation, he can cope. I'm not getting a dog to help teach him this lesson though, so don't even suggest it. (ha ha)

The baby appears to be so different already. He's so active, already trying to reach for things out of his grasp and learning how to move to get what he wants. Everything makes him laugh, even when you purposely try to startle him. He's too young for me to say he has "no fear" just yet, but the fact that he is already more mobile than the toddler ever was leads me to believe we may be in a bit of trouble with him. We may actually have to baby proof the house this time.

Sure, some of these personality traits are genetic. I love to be around people and am very social. But I hate being scared (I hate amusement park rides for just this reason). But neither my husband or myself are overly fearful people. We like trying new things (food, places, travelling), and we will put ourselves in uncomfortable situations to try and push ourselves to be better (see my post from last week as a recent example!)

Okay, so where does this come from? How did my two boys, that both came out of me and both get the same food as sustenance, end up so different?

My pregnancies were relatively similar, although I had a bit more hormonal rage the second time around. But my birth experiences were completely opposite and I think some of their personality traits can be traced back to this. The toddler's birth was totally one of fear. I had no idea what to expect, I was scared of the unknown, and I relied on drugs to help me cope. Drugs that didn't work. I ended up being full of toxic drugs, and so did my son. I was forced to try and push him out, before he was ready, for more than 3 hours. When he finally came out, he was taken from me right away due to the presence of meconium in the amniotic fluid. I spent most of the first 24 hours of his life away from him because he was in the NICU. In fact, the first 5 days of his life he was in and out of the NICU, and then in and out of the isolette with the bright lights because of his jaundice. It tooks us 5 days before we were able to get home to find our groove. Fortunately, our breastfeeding relationship was always a good one -- a very successful one -- and I think that's what helped get us through our rough start. Looking back, I'm glad I was so persistent and so sure that breastfeeding was the only choice for us. I shudder to think of what other damage I may have done if I hadn't had that connection with him.

The baby's birth was completely opposite in every sense. I was educated about the process. I knew what was happening to my body, and felt it important to bring my baby into the world in a calm way. Drug free was the only option. I gave birth to him at home, in the comfort of my own space, my own clothes, and surrounded my people who cared for me and supported me. Even though he chose to enter the world in the most unorthodox of manners (which also leads me to believe we'll have trouble with him in the future! ha ha), he came when HE wanted to. And although I didn't get to have him with me right after birth (due to his unorthodox presentation at birth), it wasn't long before he was in my arms and I was able to give him his first feed. We spent the next few days together, and because we were at home, we weren't interrupted by strangers (a.k.a nurses) and found our own groove immediately.

I really believe that the birth experience plays a part in shaping the child. Maybe my oldest would be a timid, sensitive, cautious child anyway. I guess I'll never know that. But knowing what we do know, it's up to us to parent our child according to his personality. Of course, I don't want to use his cautious nature as an excuse. I want to push him, to expand his horizons and to work past his fears. But at the same time, I want to love him through his fear, never letting him feel like he has to "get over it". I want him to know that being with us is his safe place, and that we'll always be here to love him and support him. But I want him to know that because he has that safe place, that he is free to go out and try things. To experience life to its fullest no matter what.

So my first challenge in this giant goal is to get him comfortable around dogs. I guess I need to start making play dates with people who have dogs! Any takers?

The good ol' days....

2010-03-01T06:16:00.000-08:00

Saturday night I visited highschool. Of course I mean figuratively, not literally.

I hated highschool. There are a lot of people out there that would gladly go back and live their "glory days" over again. Not me. Too much pressure, too much judgement. Of course, in the wisdom of my old age, I realize that a lot of the issues in highschool were because all of us were in the same boat -- unsure of who we were, and more than just a little bit insecure. We all just handled it differently.

It wasn't like I had no friends. I was more the kind of person that had several friends, across several groups of people. But I did have a core group I spent quite a bit of time with. Interestingly enough, this group was mostly guys.

Most of us went to the same university, and so instead of branching out and making university friends, we all tended to stick together. However, we were kind of like a rolling ball of lint -- collecting people as we went. Our "group" grew as people started into relationships etc.

My twenties were horrendous. Probably worse than highschool. I was pretty messed up after our father abandoned us, and predictably had a string of bad relationships. And then, I married one of those bad relationships. I was in such a fog, I had a hard time figuring things out, and felt like I was constantly fighting for the real "me" to get out. But that's the thing of being surrounded by highschool friends -- they know you a certain way. To be fair, they were all trying to figure themselves out too. But instead of providing a supportive environment for each other to grow, learn and change, we ended up creating a very toxic environment for each other.

I always felt like I was the outsider -- like I was right on the cusp of being in the "cool group", but couldn't quite get in. I spent a lot of time feeling hurt. It was like I had access, but not the password to get all the way in (if that makes sense). I continued to spend more time with the guys because I just couldn't figure out how to be "in" with the girls. And yet I so desperately wanted the validation the girls could provide. If you even took one psychology course in university, it's pretty easy to figure out why I was the way I was back then. But when you're 25 no one is using their emotional intelligence. They just want you to be something you're not, and the more you try, the more you disappoint them and the more you end up hating yourself. Really, is it any wonder why I would never go back?

A few years ago, I became public enemy number one to this group of people. I made some pretty bad choices and handled a few key situations very poorly. I know now that I have a lot to apologize for. However, no situation is ever a one way street and I know I'm owed some apologies too. Don't get me wrong, I'm not sorry for how things have turned out. When push comes to shove, you always find out who your true friends are, and these people revealed themselves to be less than "true" friends. And frankly, I'm a much better version of myself now -- all because I spent some much-needed time healing my soul.

So Saturday night I made the choice to go to a stag and doe for one of my old guy friends who is getting married in April. I made the choice, knowing that all my old friends would be there, including my ex-husband. I think part of me hoped that by now, all our old past hurts would be water under the bridge. I don't expect to be friends with them again, nor do I really want to be, but you can't spend 15 years with people and not miss them a little bit. The main reason I went, though, was to support a friend I cared a great deal for as he begins his new marriage. I'm glad I went. As I expected, the guys were all wonderful -- happy to see me and welcomed me with open arms (literally). The girls, of course, ignored me. Only one said hello -- I might as well have been dead to the rest of them. I'm so grateful that I had gone with one of my really good friends. I put her in the awkward position of having to choose between me and the rest of the group (she is the only one who has mastered being friends with everyone to the detriment of no one!), but I'm glad she was standing by me. I may be closing in on thirty five, but for the 2 hours I was there, it was like I was 17 again. Not part of the "cool group", not really offending anyone with my presence, yet made to feel like I had no right to be there.

I know that this isn't normal behaviour. Nothing with this group of people is normal. I don't understand how they can so patently ignore that time is marching on, with or without them. We're all getting older, we all have children. Is this really the behaviour you want to model for your kids? It certainly isn't how I want to raise my kids. I know my children are going to make mistakes. In fact, I hope they do. Making mistakes is how you learn. I've done the best learning, the best growing, from these so called "mistakes". I've also made some of the deepest, most rewarding relationships out of taking a different path. Sure, my heart hurts to think that some day my children may not be the "cool" kids, and they may learn how it feels to stand out the outside. But then there is a part of me that wants to encourage that. I want to teach them that true validation comes from the inside, not from other people. And if they find themselves on the "inside", I hope that I've taught them well enough to include everyone, no matter what. I'm not saying they have to be friends with everyone. We all know that's impossible. But you can include people, be nice to people, say hello to people...some days, that hello might be the only thing that gets someone through the day.

So, hello.

Common Courtesy

2010-02-27T07:48:00.000-08:00

What has happened to everyone's manners?

I don't mean the day-to-day "pleases" and "thanks yous" we say to each other in passing. Or, because we are all so hopelessly Canadian, I am also not referring to the constant need to say "I'm sorry" for absolutely everything we do.

I'm referring to how we treat each other, friends and strangers alike, as we trudge through our busy lives.

One of my biggest pet peeves involves going to the mall. I generally avoid the mall like the plague, and I when I have to go, I try and go alone because I find people are just not that considerate when it comes to parents with young children. If you're familiar with any mall, you'll know well that every entrance has a bank of double doors -- like 6 options to enter/exit from. Why is it that people will follow me to the exact same door I'm headed for, watch me struggle to open the door and then attempt to push the stroller through, and then expect me to hold the door for them? First of all, if I'm struggling with a stroller, you have two options: go to one of the other 5 doors that are currently not in use, or offer to hold the door open for me. It'll be much quicker and smoother if you use option 2 (just a hint). I find the only people that "get it" are parents with other small children...and for the most part, they're not at the mall either. I recently was in the bank and had the baby in the bucket and the toddler hanging onto my other hand, and a lovely man about my age opened the door for me and said "I know what it's like -- my kids are about the same age as yours". It was such a small gesture, but it made things so much easier for me, and it made my heart smile that someone had noticed that I needed a bit of help to keep moving.

I am not so technologically savvy that I live my whole life surrounded with the latest and greatest "toys", but I do like my email and live a lot of my life online. It's easy. It's quick. I can type faster than I can write. I also come from the working world that has embraced online working so it's what I know.

What I can't figure out is why so many people haven't figured out that living through email doesn't mean you drop your manners when you push the power button on your computer. Maybe it's the fact that I come from a business world that expects a response. When you are conversing with colleagues across the country, they expect you to acknowledge and continue a conversation via email. So why now is it different? Is it because what I have to say now just isn't that important? I'll tell you something, what I had to say then wasn't that important either, but I never felt like I was being ignored. I do my best to acknowledge emails that are sent to me. I make mistakes....I think "oh I'll get to it later when I have time" and then days pass and I realize I haven't responded. It really bothers me when I do that. If you have asked me a question, I don't want you to think that I don't care. So if you have asked me for something, and I send it to you, could you please acknowledge that I sent it? At least then I know you received it.

Thank you in advance :)

Olympic Fever

2010-02-20T12:15:00.000-08:00

I haven't posted much lately, but I have a good excuse. The Olympics are on.

I love the Olympics. I love sports in general, but there is something about the Olympics that I just can't get enough of. I even religiously watch events I know nothing about (alping skiing anyone?). Not only that, I get very into them, sitting on the edge of my seat, willing our Canadian athletes to greatness. I swear, all our gold medals have come because of how hard I have gripped the edge of my couch, and how strongly I have willed them on. We have another week to go and some or our biggest events to come. I may have an ulcer at the end of all this. Fortunately, my husband shares my "olympic fever" so I never have to worry about someone wanting to change the channel.

While watching these games, I have been struck (once again) by the amazing dedication it takes to become an elite athlete. The years of training, their focus, and of course, the money that goes into them being able to achieve their dream....it's astounding. I don't think I've ever had that much singlemindedness toward anything (not even eating, and I love food). The high that comes from achieving your goal -- the goal you've been working toward for four years (or longer) -- must be unbelievable. I also can't imagine the devastation of not even being able to compete due to injury, or "wiping out" mid race and not finishing. Even if you weren't favoured to win a medal, everyone deserves to try. I can't imagine training years and years for something and wiping out off the starting gate.

But that's the point. The point is, these athletes work HARD for that moment...the moment to just try. How often do we sit back and convince ourselves that it would be easier to do nothing, or keep things the way they've always been? How often do we worry about what others will think of us, or don't bother talking about the changes we're trying to make because we don't want to be judged? How often do we think to ourselves "I just can't be bothered to justify this one more time so I'm giving up"?

Recently, I was privvy to a very wise woman saying "I'm a much better mom now than I was 7 years ago". She was speaking in reference to her days as a mother to toddlers (her kids are now in school). My first thought was THANK GOD! I don't want to be the same person/wife/mother 10 years from now that I am today. I'm pretty glad that today I'm not the person I was 10 years ago. I want to keep pushing myself to grow and become better. To keep learning and changing, to become a deeper, more involved woman.

I will continue to make changes to make myself better. I'm going to make mistakes, and I'm going to fall short some days. I'll work hard for my moment to try, and today might be the day I wipe out. But I'm going to get back up, shake myself off, and keep working so I can try again. Trying, even if you fail, often provides us the best learning opportunities.

So I say enjoy the ride. Enjoy the try.

The No-Win Parenting Solution

2010-02-17T05:39:00.000-08:00

I have noticed in my 31 months of being a parent, that the advice for parenting these days is designed to make you feel like a failure. Your child hasn't achieved the gold-standard of sleep (a.k.a sleeping through the night) by the time they're 3 months old? Fail! They're not crawling by 6 months? Fail! Walking by a year? Fail! Not eating a well-balanced diet? Fail! Not potty-trained by the age of two (or earlier)? Fail! I could go on and on, but you get the picture.

The worst part about this is we all buy into it! And perpetuate these messed up ways of thinking onto each other, which only makes us all feel worse about our parenting skills.

Who makes these crazy rules? The people that write the books. Have you been to a bookstore lately? The pregnancy/parenting section is one of the largest non-fiction sections in the store, and probably the most diverse. There is a book for everything...probably even on subjects you haven't even thought of.

I want to write a book because apparently that's what you need to have some credibility. Or a study of some sort. If I could say I was published, I might be able to have some influence.

I am going to title my book "Relax Already". Or how about this: "Listening to Your Gut: A Lost Art". Seriously, what has happened to us? Our mothers didn't have all these so-called resources, and for the most part, I think they did quite fine! Sure, my mother was painting with lead paint days before she gave birth to me, but I think I turned out okay! It seems to me that peeing on a pregnancy test and seeing that positive result means we need to check our brains at the door and start following the rules laid out for us by all of these other so-called experts. What I want to know is when did I stop being an expert on myself? And once I actually gave birth to this little person, clearly I couldn't be an expert on him either. I'd never done this before! How arrogant of me to think I could actually cope without reading a million books on how to get my baby to eat/sleep/talk/walk......

I'm not saying the authors of these books don't have some good suggestions. Some of them have excellent advice and when you're at the end of your rope, sometimes you just need a new way to think of things so that you can see your way clear of the problem. My advice has always been "take a little from column A, a little from column B, a little from your gut, and somewhere in the middle you'll find the right way to do things". I can tell you what worked for my little man when he was a baby, but your baby's personality may not be like his so it may not work for you. I guess my issue is when women take the advice of the author of Book X and allow it to supercede their own gut instinct. Just because a well-known, multi-published author tells you to let your baby "cry it out", doesn't necessarily make it the right decision.

Don't get me wrong, I've fallen prey to the competitiveness of other parents, and the stress that comes with each new "milestone". I wasn't worried about the fact that the toddler wasn't walking, but it still bothered me that he wasn't keeping up with his peer group. Of course, now he's walking fine, so all that energy I expended on comparing him to his friends was wasted energy. Hindsight is 20/20 though.

I am the expert on my own children. Barring one week vacation this past summer, I have been with the toddler every day since he was born -- so 31 months and counting. I've been with the baby every day since his birth, nearly 6 months ago. I know their personalities (well, I'm learning them day by day) and I know what will and won't work with them. So judge me if you will for the fact that my toddler is still in diapers, or for the fact that he still sleeps in a crib, or that the baby doesn't sleep through the night. I'm okay with it because I know they'll get there. I'm not going to read some book to tell me I'm doing something wrong, or that I could be doing something better. My gut tells me I'm doing a pretty good job already.

A new obsession

2010-02-13T19:48:00.000-08:00

I can feel myself getting obsessed.

When I'm interested in something, or learning something new, I like to research. When we decided we wanted to start trying to have a family, I became obsessed with learning about my body. I had been on birth control for so long, I knew very little about how my system worked. I read a wonderful book on the advice of a good friend, and have since made many of my female friends read this same book (really, it should be required reading for women...it's shocking how little most women know about their bodies). I loved learning about how my system worked, and am now very in sync with my body. After giving birth to the toddler, I became obsessed with all things birth related. I loved learning about the how the body works during pregnancy, labour, birth and postpartum. I couldn't get enough of the knowledge, and pursued it into a new "career". While pregnant with our second child, I decided that we would use cloth diapers. I researched and researched and researched all the multiple options. The more I learned, the more I wanted to know. When I finally pulled the trigger and bought some diapers, and then started using them....well, much to the dismay of my husband, I discovered a new obsession. I love finding the nicest diapers on sale, and trying out new and different options that will suit our many needs. They really are quite pretty too.

You get the picture. I'm not really a "half way" kind of person. It's all or nothing with me. And if I'm being truly honest, if I'm going to bother putting any of my valuable time and energy into something, it will always be ALL of me.

I grew up with a mother who was very ahead of her time. In the 70's, as the world was slowly becoming more and more hooked on "conveniences" like formula, disposable diapers and processed foods, I was fortunate enough to be born to a woman who believed in extended breastfeeding, cloth diapering, and natural clean living. My mother is amazing. She had three children under 5 by the time she was 28 years old. She was married to a man who was significantly older, and significantly useless when it came to parenting. Even before she was officially a single mom, as far as I'm concerned she raised us all on her own. We were fed, cared for, clothed, sufficiently disciplined, and lived in a clean house to boot.

I've often wondered how she did it (I think she sometimes does too). When feeling my most tired, my most sluggish, I couldn't figure out how to keep on top of anything in my life, much less EVERYTHING. It's tough living in that kind of shadow. Fortunately, I have a mother who believes in helping me out, not judging me. I'm grateful for that.

Looking back, I don't really remember my mother ever having a weight issue. I'm sure, like any woman, she struggled with her looks and weight. But I don't ever remember her crash dieting, or joining Weight Watchers, or doing any of the other crazy things women did in the 80's to lose weight. When she started going through menopause, she never experienced the crazy symptoms you often hear women describe. Amazingly, she was really fairly even...for several years... as her hormones changed.

Knowing what I know now, I can say with absolute certainty that my mom has been able to keep her hormones balanced because she has always treated food as food. Meaning, for her, food doesn't come in a box. She prefers vegetables to meat. She doesn't overly care for sugar or sweet things. And as much as possible, she will eat organic (or at the very least local) produce and meat.

My weight issues really began in late university. If you had asked me when I was 16 if I thought I was fat, I would have told you yes. But I wasn't. I was a healthy weight and active. By the time I reached university, my diet had started to favour more processed and "easily accessible" food choices. I still lived at home, so many meals were still under my mother's control, which is why I think I didn't balloon earlier than that. By the time I moved out at the age of 24, I was eating hardly any fruit or vegetables, and more and more meals from a box. My weight began to creep up. I was less and less active. I avoided walking, choosing to either take the bus or drive. Add in a disastrous relationship with both my father and my first husband, and "emotional eating" took on a whole new meaning for me. By the time I was 29 I was at my all time highest weight. I wasn't sure how I got there at the time, only that it seemed to be overnight. I tried crash dieting. The soup diet. Weight Watchers. Starvation. Deprivation. Nothing worked.

I started to do crazy things to my metabolism. Anti-depressants not only helped my through depression, they helped me shed the excess weight. I dealt with my emotional issues through months of therapy. I thought I was cured.

After getting married in early 2006, my weight started to creep up again. I thought it was because I was happy and comfortable. In reality, it was because we ate out a lot, had no concept of portion control, and ate a lot of processed foods with relatively little fruits and vegetables in our diet. I was frustrated, so I went on anti-depressants again PURELY for weight loss. Of course, they didn't work. Well, they worked to mess up my metabolism, but didn't help me shed the weight. Then, getting pregnant helped to mess up my metabolism further. To say I get sick when pregnant is an understatement. I take morning sickness to a whole new level. So, my body lives in 'famine' mode while pregnant, and then as soon as I have the baby, it goes back to 'feast'. Long story short, for the last several years I have been the worst kind of yo-yo.

When I got pregnant with the toddler, I decided our crazy processed life needed to stop. It wasn't how I wanted to raise my child. So, I started introducing organic foods into our family. I am a proud extended breastfeeder. I made my own baby food. I have limited sugar in my child. The more I learned about how our food is made, the more it made me want to only have organic foods in my pantry. The more I learned about how chemicals affect our life, the more it made me want to change EVERYTHING. I couldn't stop. I kept learning and learning, wanting to know more and more so that we could be better.

All this time, it was never about my weight. I continued to be a heavy weight, just with healthier choices in the fridge.

And then someone came along and taught me how to put all these things together. For me, it's been like a switch has gone off in my head. I had all the tools in my toolbox, but I wasn't using them all correctly. And I just want to know more. I love learning about how to incorporate clean eating into all aspects of our life. I've been trying new recipes, which has been fun. There is so much information out there on gluten-free/sugar-free living, there aren't enough hours in the day for me to find it all. I have two books on my nightstand on the go...and neither are fiction. I am quickly becoming obsessed with finding new baking recipes to try. I'm planning on how to change my pantry and fridge so that they both can accomodate the many new gluten-free flours I'm going to need on hand. I can't stop. More importantly, I don't WANT to stop.

I feel great. I've lost 10lbs. My breastfed baby's skin has cleared up (he had some dry patches) and his cradle cap is almost gone. His sleeping issues have been corrected. The toddler's cradle cap has nearly cleared up. He hasn't had any issues with constipation in over a month. He is getting a bit more adventurous with eating and is now wanting to try vegetables and is eating fruit like it's going out of style. My husband has lost 10lbs. His sugar intake has been drastically reduced.

I'm totally and utterly hooked. Now, off to do more internet research and read the lastest post in my newest favourite blog....

My favourite time of day

2010-02-11T18:01:00.000-08:00

Last week, I had a few rough days in a row. Sleep deprivation plus a baby who was fighting a cold made for one unhappy mama. I found myself wishing the days away, waiting for 6pm when my husband comes home.

On the weekend, I was given a very gentle (very needed) reminder to stay in the present and enjoy every moment I have with my children. I'm glad I regained my perspective because it has opened my eyes to my favourite time of day.

There are many, many, many moments throughout every day that I love and cherish. But the best comes in the evening when daddy is home. Daddy does "bath time" with the boys every night. While he is doing that, I have a few minutes to myself to either clean up the kitchen from dinner, or just sit down and check my email. You'd think that was my favourite time.

The best time is actually right after baths. The boys are enjoying "naked time" (baby just had his bath, toddler just about to bathe), and the four of us are just hanging out having fun for a few moments before the kids go to bed.

I feel badly for my husband. During the week, he gets about an hour of time with the baby, and maybe two hours at best with the toddler. I know he looks forward to this time as well because it is his time to connect with the kids.

Tonight, as the baby was working on getting up on all fours, and the toddler was running around stark naked and laughing his head off, I felt totally and utterly happy. And blessed. Blessed that these boys (and one man) are MINE. It made me want to press the pause button. There is something so innocent about the little bare bums, and the silliness of a two and a half year old, and just letting the kids be.

It's always so sad when this moment is over...the baby starts getting cold and fussy because it's time for him to eat and go to bed. I have my alone moments with him as we close out the day. I get the last hugs and kisses from the toddler before he goes to bed (there is something magical about chubby arms around your neck), and I find myself looking forward to tomorrow night.

Wheat

2010-02-09T19:14:00.000-08:00

I think I have confirmed that wheat is my problem.

Let me backtrack a bit. About 16 years ago, I was diagnosed with Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS). Long story short, over the years I have tolerated pain and other digestive issues. My main "irritants" have been stress and greasy or rich foods. In the last 5 years, I haven't been paying close attention to any triggers. I've just been eating and drinking what I want, figuring that it is my lot in life to have irregular digestion (and all that entails...ahem).

For a few years now I have suspected that I am, at the very least, wheat intolerant. However, I haven't been motivated enough to seek out the professional opinion of a naturopath to confirm this. I have the phone number for one, I just haven't called. Part of the beauty of this detox was that I was going to be taking out dairy and wheat...two things that cause problems in many people. Now that I'm eating clean, I'm committed to staying gluten-free as much as possible, because I like the way I've been feeling. Same goes for dairy. I love goat cheese, and there are so many options, I don't feel cheese deprived. (I love cheese)

However, all along I've said I'll have to be reasonable with the gluten-free thing. Since I don't have a known allergy/intolerance, I would be as careful as possible, but if I'm at a restaurant or at a friend's house, I won't choose to not eat just because there may not be a gluten-free option.

I may be rethinking this attitude.

Yesterday, I FINALLY received my free Kashi cereal sample in the mail. Yay! I was excited about this, as I chose to receive the honey almond flax cereal. It's full of good things...lots of good grains, flax, almonds etc. At first, I kind of panicked...how would I eat cereal without having milk??? Fortunately, I remembered we have almond milk in the fridge. Crisis averted. So today, I decided to have the cereal...about a 1 cup serving size...for my breakfast. After eating the cereal, it occured to me to read the label. At this time, I realized the cereal had wheat in it. Duh. By the time lunch rolled around, I was in quite a bit of pain, and this pain lasted most of the afternoon. Come to think of it, I still have some residual pain going on.

The wheat is the only thing I've had that's different. So I'm self-diagnosing, and am even more committed to staying gluten-free now.

What is up with my child?!?!

2010-02-07T17:42:00.000-08:00

I can't figure the baby out.

This child is quite possibly the most unpredictable child ever. For quite awhile, his daytime naps were terrible with a capital T. But since I've cut out sugar, he's been having more predictable, longer naps. Which is fantastic. I'm almost at the point where I can plan a day around when he will eat and sleep...it's been pretty steady for the last few weeks.

But what is with the nights?!?!? I don't get it. I have lots of theories about what is going on. I think the biggest issue is that he is always growing, so he needs to wake frequently to feed. He's not getting enough during the day, and so he still needs me at night. So why not feed more frequently during the day? Well that's a great idea,. Trouble is, if he's not hungry, he won't eat. Which is GREAT. Definitely a skill I need to learn.

It isn't the waking up I mind. If he is hungry, obviously I want to feed him. What I can't figure out is why is there never two nights the same?? About 2 weeks ago, he was going about 8-9 hours with one wake up, then waking again at 7am. Awesome. For the last 10 days or so, there have been multiple wake-ups each night. Sometimes his first wake up is as early as 11pm, sometimes it's 2am. I hate that when I go to bed, I never know when I'll be up. It also makes going out in the evenings difficult, as I'm constantly worried that he's going to wake up while I'm gone.

Which brings me to another interesting phenomenon. He seems to have a special powers. A "sixth sense" if you will.

Every time I go out in the evening, he wakes up. And we're not talking just a random wake-up that can be solved with a soother reset. No, it's full on, inconsolable crying. It isn't just for a few minutes either. It goes on for an hour, hour and a half. I went out three nights this past week. It happened all three times. It doesn't seem to happen when I'm home.

Scratch that. Mid-post, the baby woke up...inconsolably crying. He wouldn't feed either, so it's not like I have some magic touch that can stop it. At least it only lasted 10 minutes. He's back asleep now...for how long, no one knows.

So WHAT is going ON?!?!

If it was teeth, wouldn't he behave like this at other points during the day? Is my diet giving him such bad gas that he's waking with stomach pains? Is he growing again and in pain?

Any insight appreciated. I'm trying not to let the sleep deprivation get to me, or the guilt that is associated with me leaving the house. I'm struggling with both right now.

Excuses, excuses....

2010-02-05T14:32:00.000-08:00

I HATE excuses. I always find myself getting unreasonably angry whenever someone is giving me an excuse for something. Not when it's legitimate. I mean, if you're sick and cancelling plans with me, I'm okay with that. Or if you have to change a date we've had set for months because a family member died...again, totally okay with that.

It's the useless excuses that I hate. You know the kind...the kind that just scream "I can't be bothered so I'm telling this little lie/big lie to get me out of x". That's the kind I hate. I seem to have less and less patience for that the older I get.

Maybe it all comes back to my absolute hatred of lying. My father is a classic liar. Problem is, he doesn't see it that way. He's the kind of man that has lived so many lies for so long, they've all become truth to him. I've had to get rid of "friends" who behaved that same way -- I just can't tolerate it when people can't live in the truth.

I've spent the better part of the last 6 years trying to become my authentic self. And yes, that "self" keeps growing and changing the older I get. The more life I live, the more I grow. But I want to keep becoming a better version of myself. I'm going to fail, I'm going to fall down and I'm absolutely going to make mistakes. However, I feel every mistake made is a lesson learned.

So here are my current excuses (that I'm trying very hard to overcome!):

1. I'm too tired.
2. It's not my stuff, so why should I clean it up?
3. I'm too busy with taking care of two children to get to it.
4. I'm too tired. (I realize I've said that already, but it's a common one I use)
5. I have to wait for my husband to help me.

Up to this point, I've made these excuses to avoid dealing with the uncontrolled clutter in my house/basement/laundry room. I've felt like I haven't been sacrificing myself, so it hasn't been that big of a deal. But I realize now, I AM sacrificing myself. I'm frustrated and stressed by the clutter and mess. I am tired of going to other people's homes and feeling jealous of how organized they are. I'm organized in my head, and I long for a tidy environment (of course, as I say that, I'm sitting here blogging while looking at the mountain of toys strewn about my living room...sigh).

So honey, you're on notice -- I'm on a mission to get our basement cleaned out so we can actually use that space. I guarantee you'll appreciate the better version of me you get when our house is tidy. :)

February blahs

2010-02-02T17:21:00.000-08:00

It's true...there really is such a thing as February blahs. And I have them IN SPADES.

The last few days have been ...challenging. Everything seems to be setting me off. My patience level is at an all-time low, and I think the kids can sense it. Scratch that...I KNOW the kids can sense it. I'm irritated with everyone and everything.

I'm irritated that the baby's sleep patterns are so crazy. There is no rhyme or reason for it, and no predictability. I'm exhausted from a few nights in a row of multiple wake-ups...and large amount of wakeful periods during the night. The upside is that his daytime naps have gotten REALLY good, and today he actually put himself to sleep. So what gives at night?

The toddler has been a HUGE challenge lately. I'm sure today part of the problem was that I was so NOT calm. I was the opposite of calm. He was also tired and hungry and not very good at expressing that (unless you count constantly crying as "expression". If so, then he was really good at it). I'm irritated that he was not very good all day, and then when daddy gets home he's an absolute angel.

I need a break.

I'm very lucky. My husband is amazing at helping out with the kids, especially when I'm maxed at the end of the day. I try and get out once a week with friends, or to do some shopping by myself on the weekends. I'm never questioned on why I need to "get out".

The trouble is, my "getting out" is always around the kids' schedule. I can't ever leave until the baby is fed and in bed. My daytime trips are limited to between feeds. My "shopping" trips are to the grocery store, the drug store, or the market. For essentials. I'm desperate for a pedicure and a hair cut. I'm desperate for a day away, all day, all night. But it's going to be awhile before that can happen.

I'm hoping a good night's sleep gives me back my perspective. And my calm.

To new beginnings...

2010-01-31T09:11:00.000-08:00

Whenever someone makes a toast, they usually comment on what is great about the present and what they hope for the future. So here is my "toast" to me....

Day 28 ....today is my last official day of detoxing. I can't believe it's been a MONTH. More importantly, I can't believe how much I've learned, and how quickly I reclaimed my body. In 28 days, I've lost 9lbs. I'm happy with that because I know my body has been kick started into our new lifestyle.

Last night, I was blessed to have an impromptu date with my husband (thanks for babysitting mom!!!). We haven't been as good about dating this time as we were after having the toddler, and I've missed having a little alone time with him. We went to a movie, which was great. We splurged and went to the VIP section of the Westmount theatre. So nice! They have in-seat service, and my beloved had a beer delivered right to our chair. The amazing thing to me was that I didn't even crave a drink. I really and truly didn't want one. I love red wine, and I really enjoy beer....so the fact that I didn't even want to have one was a bit surprising. But like I said to my husband, I'd rather wait and save that first glass of alcohol for a special occasion. And since our anniversary is in less than a month, I think I'll save it for then. Intellectually, I've always known that cutting out alcohol would be a key to my weight loss. Not that I drink often, but when we're out for dinner, or having a special family occasion, I'd have a glass of wine (or two). And when I was pregnant, all I really wanted was a good glass of wine. But now...well let's just say my lack of desire for a nip was even surprising to me. We did have popcorn and it made me feel so nauseous! Lesson learned.

So what's next? There is lots of really great reading out there supporting the clean eating lifestyle. I'm excited to add in some grains to my diet (quinoa is first on the list!), and there are so many good recipes I want to try, I'm not sure where to start first! Really, I just can't get over how easy this switch has been for me, and how I don't even miss my old ways. Keeping my diet gluten-free should be fairly easy, but on the odd occasion when I can't avoid it, so be it. I plan to keep my dairy intake to the bare minimum, because I also think that not having dairy has helped me feel my best this month. Obviously I'm going to keep sugar on my "avoid" list, and I plan to keep with the "no eating after 7pm" rule. All of these things have helped me -- helped my energy level, helped me lose weight, and most importantly, helped me gain control of my life again.

For me, this detox wasn't a "start and stop" thing. It was the start of a new way of life. I don't view the detox being over as an "end". I know it was an important process to go through because now my system is totally cleaned out, and as I continue going forward, I'm adding in good things on top of good things! I don't plan on changing much, just adding in some new meals.

So here's to me as I continue on this journey and explore eating clean. May my family continue to reap the benefits.

Personality Traits

2010-01-28T20:32:00.000-08:00

I have many favourite things about being a mom, but one of the most fascinating things is discovering my children's individual personalities. They are just so interesting...and SO different! And yet, a little the same too.

When a child is born, everyone is always trying to figure out who they look like. Even now, it's the first thing people say -- "oh, the baby looks so much like you/your husband/your grandfather/our family" and so on. It's crazy. Obviously when you mix two gene pools, some of their features are going to resemble SOMEONE on either side. They may even resemble me (I was their home for 9 months after all). But to me, they just look like themselves. They are so darn cute it hurts my heart just looking at them sometimes.

But what I love is finding out what kind of people they are. I remember paying such close attention to the toddler when he was a baby...I wanted to know if his quirks would show up later when he could walk and talk. And they have! He was always so babbly, not interested in working on his gross motor skills. Same now. He is so chatty, and not a climber or a jumper. He's happy to sit and play and is really a rather calm boy.

The baby is also VERY babbly. I assumed our second baby would be a quiet one, thinking that the older child would speak for him. Not so. This baby has found his voice! Not only does he babble, but he is forceful with his voice. He's calm and content most of the time. But when he's bored or tired or hungry, he'll let you know in no uncertain terms. I have to remember this about him for when he gets older. He's also VERY active. He moves non-stop! He rolls, he wiggles, he just seems to be constantly on the move. I think we're in for a bit of trouble with him in that regard, and for the first time ever, we may actually have to baby proof our house!

I contemplate the nature vs. nurture argument a lot. I know that the example we set and the values we instill in our children will account for something. But that innate part of who they are at the core...THAT is what I want to know. I want to know so I can parent my children to the best of my ability. Not apply some parenting techniques just because I think they're a good idea. I know that in order for me to allow my children to grow and thrive I need to know their heart completely so that I can parent them the way that THEY need.

I know I'll have failures, and I know that I'll make mistakes. But I hope at the end of my life, my children will know that I loved them enough to really KNOW them. And I'm working very hard to be the best I can be for them. Even now, when they're small and love me no matter what I do and can't tell I have flaws.

God knew what he was doing when he gave these little people to me. These little people who will challenge me and help me grow and teach me a love I didn't know was possible. And a level of frustration I didn't know existed too.

I am blessed to have these children. They deserve to have a complete and present me. Even though the detox is officially winding down (3 more days!), we are committed to making this way of living...this clean eating...our new lifestyle. I can't imagine going backwards. I know I can't give up this energy or my health.

Shame

2010-01-26T18:44:00.000-08:00

I often feel that guilt is a useless emotion. For some reason, women are terribly afflicted with the guilt gene. Everything we do makes us feel bad for some reason. If we take time for ourselves and put our family on
"pause" for a moment, the result is instant guilt. If we eat too much over the holidays, more guilt. We push our own feelings aside, our own needs aside, our own wants aside, because if we don't....well, more guilt of course! If you can recognize that by putting yourself first on occasion, you can actually be a better version of yourself, a more present version of yourself, you and your family will all win in the long run. But it can be hard to get to that place. The place where you're okay with self-care.

But shame is a different kettle of fish. Shame is insidious. The weight of carrying shame around with you can just about kill you.

I recently found out that an acquaintance is engaged. The funny thing is, no one really knows the "how they met" story. At least, not the REAL story. Everyone thinks they met through friends. The real story is that they met online. She is too ashamed to tell everyone how they really met.

I find this SO odd, especially in this day and age. When you're in your thirties, how do you meet people? And why be ashamed of something that is obviously successful? I'm very proud of the fact that I met my husband online. I feel very blessed that we had the internet as a dating option, otherwise I never would have met him!

I also know a woman who is so ashamed of her eating, she hides it. Food is hidden all over the house, and she'll eat chocolate in her closet just so no one will know.

We all have something we're ashamed of. If we think long and hard, there is something that we're still carrying around with us. Carrying it like a weight and paying the price for that weight. Weight ...literally and figuratively for some.

I'm no different. There are skeltons in my closet too. I've carried the shame, but I've let it go. It doesn't serve me anymore. There is no pay off, there is no reward. Let that be your gift to yourself this year. Let it go. Let it all go.

I choose me. No guilt. No shame.

Tough times

2010-01-25T20:32:00.000-08:00

Today started off very badly.

The baby had a great sleep last night, and woke up once...at 4:30. But when he was still up at 5:15, I admit I totally lost my patience. Not sure where the unreasonable rage came from, but fortunately my beloved husband stepped in and took over and got him back to sleep. Poor little bean had a lot of gas, which is why he couldn't get back to sleep. He ended up sleeping until 8:30 after all that, and so did the toddler, so I was able to recover.

But the rage continued when I got on the scale for my weekly weigh-in and the scale hadn't moved. Seriously?? I just couldn't believe that with everything I'm doing there has been NO change.

Fortunately, I was able to put it out there to my support team and I immediately had the support I needed to let go of my anger. Really what I wanted was answers. And I was given some, which helped!

I really like to know the "why" of things. I am pretty easy going and can let things happen, but when I'm invested in something, I don't like ambiguity. I need to know if A happens, then B will be the result. So when I hadn't lost weight, I just wanted to know that there was a reason, and I wanted it to be a concrete reason. Thank goodness for our fearless detox leader who was able to give me those answers and reassure me that things ARE happening!

What took me by surprise the most was the level of rage I felt this morning. I have felt so calm and even through this process, I was amazed that something so small set me off. I hope that's just my system releasing more toxins. I'm grateful that my husband was here, and then my support team stepped in and I managed to get things under control quickly! More importantly, I didn't even feel the urge to eat. Nor did I want to give up. It actually reaffirmed for me the reasons why I started this process in the first place.

I need this. I need to keep working at being a better version of me. Yes, a thinner version of me is important. But it's MORE than just weight loss. I'm glad I was reminded of that this morning.

Time

2010-01-24T13:40:00.000-08:00

How do you make time stand still? If someone has the answer, please let me know.

My kids are growing up too fast. Every child I know is growing up too fast. Last night, we spent the evening with the toddler's play group. We've been together as a group since the kids were about 8 weeks old. We reminisced last night about how the kids all used to fit on one blanket side-by-each, they'd sit still and we (the moms) could drink tea, eat our snacks and visit. Looking around last night, it was amazing to see them all running around, playing with each other, going to the potty, talking in sentences...they're all such little people now. It makes me sad to think of how fast time has gone by when all I want to do is hold on tightly to each moment. We're all on second babies now (some recently delivered, some newly pregnant) and it is so much fun to see the group growing. I love these women. They kept me grounded during my first maternity leave. Seeing them each week gave me social time, but also gave me a safe place where I could just be myself. I love their kids. I love that soon there will be more of their kids to love.

I want these kids to stop getting bigger!!!

I managed to overcome my first food challenge last night too. We got together over dinner so there was pizza ordered. Of course, all I wanted to do was eat it...lots of it...but I went prepared with veggies, hummus and a stirfry and felt good afterwards that I had kept with my plan. Not only that, but I was surrounded by people who understood what I was doing and didn't try to sabotage me by encouraging me to "cheat".

I love these women. If you do nothing else with your life, find women who encourage you and support you. They truly are a blessing.

My failing body

2010-01-22T20:34:00.000-08:00

Earlier this evening I saw a new chiropractor. I feel like I'm cheating on my current chiropractor, but my mom has been so concerned about the state of back she wanted me to get a second opinion from her guy. So after she made the appointment for me, I went.

Now, I'm open to trying new things, but I also happen to be pretty loyal. Once I find someone I like (be it esthetician, hair dresser, massage therapist, whatever), I stick with them. I like my chiropractor. He's a nice guy and I always feel good after my adjustments. The results of the adjustments don't last long, but I've been chalking that up to the fact that I don't have a lifestyle right now that would allow my back to heal. I leave his office and have to immediately pick up a child. It's just the way it is.

After talking with this new guy, and then him doing an assessment, I realized how messed up my back really is. He even strongly recommended I get a req from my doctor for a CT scan so that we truly know what we're dealing with. I know a lot of my issue is from weak muscles, and after two pregnancies, I have no ab strength. I'm working quite hard on improving that right now, but it takes time. Anyway, it was a very long appointment because he was so thorough, and I felt like if I stick with him I may actually see an improvement.

The one thing he kept saying to me over and over was that I am "still young" and we need to get this fixed now while I have "youth" on my side. I found that so funny. I feel like my body has been failing me for years. Between the back issues, which have led to chronic pain issues, combined with knee pain, I feel like I've been falling apart by inches for a long time now.

The good thing about this week is I've made working out a priority. I've spent at least an hour each day doing some strength training and cardio and I feel pretty good. My back has been the best this week that it has been in ages. Intellectually, I have known for a long time that "exercise will help". I just haven't worked this hard to make it a priority. I've tried the gym, and just like everything else, I've failed at that. But I'm not a gym girl. I think you need to take what you have and make it work for you. What I'm doing may not work for anyone else, but that's not the point. The point is that I have found something I like doing, it's working for me and I'm seeing results. I'm building strength in my body on all fronts. Maybe there is a chance my failing body will do a complete turnaround.

Hopefully the new chiropractor can help me with this turnaround -- hopefully I like him and I'll see results. But how do I break up with my old chiropractor?

Habits

2010-01-21T18:28:00.000-08:00

It's amazing how quickly you can change a habit. If you want to, that is.

For the last few months, as I've been dealing with the craziness two small children can bring, I have slumped into a nasty habit of eating my way through the afternoon. And evening. I'd put the toddler to bed in the afternoon, perhaps the baby would be sleeping too, and I'd welcome the sweet relief a little silence brought. I could sit down (finally!) and have a few minutes to myself. Sometimes that silence would be accompanied by chocolate, sometime chips...there was always something to snack on. In the evenings, feeling totally exhausted, I'd park myself on the couch to watch a little TV, spend a little time with my husband, and both of us would indulge in more snacking. Over Christmas, I even added some drinks to the evening "ritual".

There is comfort in ritual.

Besides changing mealtime habits, part of this process has helped change my overall daily habits. I have to admit, I like my new rituals. Life isn't getting any calmer -- I'd say it's just getting crazier. Between nursings, feeding the toddler, play time, errands, laundry, keeping the house (somewhat) clean, nap time, potty training, making dinner...sigh...the list does seem endless some days. I still look forward to that quiet time in the afternoon when both children are napping. But instead of filling the silence with food, I'm spending my time working out. My energy levels are great because of the food I'm eating, but adding in the workouts has given me the extra "push" to get through the rest of the day. Even when I crash on the couch after the kids are in bed, it's a good kind of tired. I know that I have accomplished a lot in my day. I've been present for my kids, in every way possible and I've been there for myself. That's the most important thing. Putting time in every day for me.

I'm doing this for me. I'm doing this so I can be a healthier (and hopefully thinner!) version of me. But by putting myself first, I'm actually doing this for everyone in my family. We all win. And all it's taken is a few little changes here and there.

There is comfort in rituals.

Boys and girls

2010-01-19T17:21:00.000-08:00

I've always wanted children. As long as I can remember, I knew having kids was going to be part of my life. And now that I'm a mom, I know that I'm doing exactly what I was meant to do with my life.

When I dreamt about having kids, I always imagined I'd have a boy first. I don't know why -- maybe it's because I always wished I had an older brother when I was growing up. But I always figured I'd have a girl at some point. When I was pregnant with my second baby, I was quite sure it was another boy -- mother's instinct I guess. I found myself quite envious of people around me who were having second babies that were opposite gender to their first. I didn't realize how much I hoped for a girl until then. Who knows, there is a chance I may at some point still have a daughter, but for now...well I'm actually very relieved at the way things have turned out.

There is something pretty special about having boys. I've been blessed with very affectionate children, and I love snuggling with them any chance I get. I also love watching how the toddler's play has been changing. He's definitely becoming more "boy" -- everything has to crash these days! But I was quite a tomboy growing up, and still am. I'd rather sit and watch ESPN than get dressed up any day! I think being able to be "rough and tumble" with the kids is probably more my speed than playing with dolls and dresses.

But truth be told, I'm relieved to have boys because I wonder how I would avoid giving a daughter my food issues. Even now, I'm becoming more aware of using the phrases "I feel fat", or "do I look fat in this" in front of the kids. My husband hates it when I say those things anyway, but I am conscious of the fact that I can also impart food and body issues to my sons. I know the best way to ensure the kids have a healthy relationship with food is by giving them healthy options. But I want to make sure that we all have a healthy body image too. And I know that right now, my body image is not so healthy.

I've been a little obsessed with the number on the scale since this whole process began, but ultimately, I just want to feel good in my own skin. I don't even remember what that feels like! To put on a pair of pants and have them not be tight, to not search through all my clothes to find the top that "billows" the most, to stop wearing my maternity jogging pants because they're just so darn comfy....

None of those things can be measured by a number. I know that when my boys look at me, hug me, love me, they don't see a number either. So now I need to see myself through their eyes.

And now, my liver

2010-01-18T19:26:00.000-08:00

Well after two weeks, we're now on to cleansing our livers. You'd think after 2 weeks of not drinking I'd be cleansed, but apparently not so. We're not really changing much of the plan, just adding in a few more supplements, and focusing on working out. So this will be my challenge -- committing to an hour a day.

I'm really proud of my peeps -- we're all doing well and have stayed focused on the plan. I can't wait to see the group after the next 2 weeks!

Interesting moments

2010-01-17T18:29:00.000-08:00

Do you ever have those moments where you go "this...this is the low point in my marriage"??

Picture this: Saturday night at midnight. Kids are in bed, blissfully asleep. It's dark and quiet, and a young couple who are hopelessly in love are cuddled up in the warm bed.

Romantic, right? Well instead of spending that time wisely (ahem), we got into a rather deep conversation. About poop. Yes, you heard it. We spent the better part of an hour discussing colons, how they work, if it really was possible to have years of "spackle and paste" stuck in there, and finally, what it felt like to have a really good clean out. Yep, that's romantic. When you ignore sex opportunities for poop discussions, it's definitely a low point (although rather funny).

I've been at this "clean out" for 2 weeks now. I can't believe it's been 14 days already. I definitely couldn't have done it without the support of my husband. I'm glad that we both feel strongly about having a healthy family, and I'm grateful that he's willing to accept any change that I bring into the house without complaint. He's even curbed his late-night snacking so as not to offend me (or rub it in my face).

Come to think of it, maybe this is a high point after all.

Energy to spare!

2010-01-15T11:06:00.000-08:00

I am a MACHINE.

I have not had this much energy in forever. For as long as I can remember, I've been very sloth-like. Yesterday, I cleaned the house top to bottom, did 4 loads of laundry, and worked out on the Wii. I felt awesome. Even today, when my little alarm clock woke me at 7am, I felt totally awake. It's unbelieveable really.

Okay not really unbelieveable. But it still amazes me that food was having that much of an effect on my overall well-being. The baby seems to be responding as well. Makes me sad to think I had him on a 4 month long sugar high (considering my view on sugar in children). His sleep habits this week have been really good.

These reasons alone are why I want to stick with this. I feel great, I'm sleeping well, and the baby is sleeping well.

So having said that, is it wrong to admit I REALLY want a pizza? Don't ask me why, but the last two days I've been craving pizza. Not even bad pizza, but the good kind we buy at the market that are fresh and homemade. I heart them.

I think to distract myself I'll go workout.

The ties that bind

2010-01-13T18:17:00.000-08:00

This isn't my first trip to the rodeo.

I have a confession. This isn't my first detox. Okay, it's my first FOOD detox, but this is about so much more than just food. And every time I "detox" my life, I find out who, and what, is really important.

Six years ago, when my first marriage was ending, I ended up doing the fastest, most painful detox of my life. I was surrounded by toxic people masquerading as friends, and I was a shell of my former self -- fat, self-loathing, depressed. While going though a painful life-change, it became very apparent very quickly who was really there for me, who really loved me. More importantly, loved me for me -- flawed and imperfect as I am. Out of that painful chapter emerged some really beautiful friendships. Some old, some new. Strong women, with broken and imperfect hearts of their own, giving of themselves to help me through a tough time. I gave up on the old friendships that weren't working for me anymore, lost the weight, moved on from the depression, and became a new me. A successful detox if you ask me.

I've also detoxed my emotional baggage. Too many issues for this poor blog led me to several stints in counselling. Let me say that I'm a HUGE believer in counselling and think it's wonderful. But it's work. You have to be willing to be open and honest. Having said that, it is absolutely amazing to submit to the revelations that come from dealing with the issues that plague you. To be wide open like that, completely vulnerable but at the same time completely honest....well, that's the best kind of detox. After my last emotional detox, I met my husband. Another successful detox I think!

Now here I am, detoxing again. This time, I'm detoxing my unhealthy behaviours. Obviously I hope to lose some weight, but more importantly, I want to establish some healthy patterns for my family. We were halfway there already, but this detox is pushing me to go all the way. Which I love. But the best part of all this is that I'm once again surrounded by wonderful, beautiful, strong women who are giving of themselves to support me through the process. I'm making new friendships and strengthening old ones while walking along side people who GET it. No matter what happens with this detox (meaning: whether I lose the weight or not), I know that I'm making life-long connections with some pretty fantastic people. We may have all "come to the table" for the same reason, but our reasons for continuing and staying are not. However it's comforting to know there is someone in your corner, picking you up when you fall and pushing you to achieve your goal. And that's success in my books.

4 A.M.

2010-01-12T11:48:00.000-08:00

I have a love/hate relationship with 4 a.m.

The baby is still waking up in the night to feed. Which I keep telling myself is normal. Really, he's a pretty good sleeper. Unfortunately for him, his brother was (and still is) an exceptional sleeper, so it's hard not to compare. When the toddler was this age, he was sleeping through the night. I'm not sure why the baby won't do it...he's done lots of long stretches. I just can't seem to get him over the 4 a.m. hump.

There is a part of me that's okay with that. I remember being sad when the toddler started sleeping through. Don't get me wrong, I love the sleep. It's just at that time of the morning, the house is very, very still and quiet. It's just you and the baby and your thoughts (however good or bad THAT may be). At that time of the morning, the baby is VERY focused. He's not wiggly, or distracted. He just eats and goes right back to sleep. While he's eating, I love listening to the silence of my house. I can hear deep sleep breathing from both the toddler and my husband, and it's oddly calming. I love being the one that can fix the middle-of-the-night distress for my baby. I love that for a little while, there is focus on just him, and I think that is when our bond is the strongest. Yes, there is part of me that relishes that little bit of alone time in the very, very quiet. For that, I love 4 a.m.

I hate 4 a.m. I'm desperate for a full night's sleep. When 4 a.m comes, I realize I'm STARVING. This has always been the case, but it seems worse now. Of course, even if I could eat something, I'm too tired and lazy to walk downstairs to get it. I drink some water, and get back into the warm bed and silently curse those that are still sleeping and haven't even realized I was awake. I try desperately not to resent the fact that I am the only one who has to be up.

When day breaks and we wake for the day, perspective has changed again. The house is awake with noise, and my focus shifts to being on everyone, and everything, else. I no longer give anyone, or anything, my undivided attention. As I go about my daily tasks....laundry, potty training, food prep....I long for the middle of the night silence and look forward to tonight when I have those few precious minutes to focus on me.

Irritation central

2010-01-11T17:28:00.000-08:00

Lord, I'm irritated today. Everything, and everyone, is setting me off. Last night was actually an okay night, and we had a pretty good morning. But I made a COLOSSAL mistake that I ended up paying for, for the rest of the day.

I've been desperately trying to get my baby to nap better. Some days he's fantastic, other days it's a crap shoot. The last few days have been pretty good. His pattern seems to be one longer nap, and one shorter nap, and then a cat nap in the late afternoon. I wish I could get him on two long naps, but I figure that'll come. Monday mornings we normally go to a play group, which is a great way for us to a) get out of the house, b) allow the toddler to burn off some energy and c) for me to connect with some friends. Well, today I decided we'd forgo the play group in favour of getting the baby to have a decent nap. BIG MISTAKE. Okay, maybe not that big, because he DID have a good nap. But the toddler was so rammy all day. The afternoon brought short naps for everyone and about 10 minutes of alone time for me.

Enter rage city.

I'm not mad at the kids....I'm just mad. I feel totally exhausted and totally defeated today. And before you comment, this has nothing to do with food. I ate really well today and am REALLY full! I had good, well-planned meals and was very prepared. Dinner was a tad delayed due to an oversight on my part, but it was okay...I wasn't starving.

I managed to watch Oprah today and organizational guru Peter Walsh was on. I have a pretty big crush on him. I would pay any amount of money if I could get him to my house.

Here is the root of my rage. My house is a disaster. Some of the mess is hidden where no one can see (the basement). Some of it is right out in the open (the family room). The toys all over the place are driving me insane. The clutter is driving me insane. The fact that I have zero organization in my life is driving me insane.

And I'm overwhelmed.

This detox is about more than just food for me. All of this is wrapped up in one big huge issue. The state of my home has led to the mess of my body. The mess of my body lets me hide behind the fact that I can't deal with the mess of my house. And I feel totally alone.

I'm dealing with one thing at a time, which is the best way to tackle this I think. If I can get a handle on my weight, energy and health, then I can tackle the REAL problem.

When you come over, please don't judge me. And consider yourself warned.

Extra hands

2010-01-10T16:51:00.000-08:00

Today I had extra hands for everything. Extra hands to help clean up, prepare food, juice and eat! It was so nice. I love the weekends. Even though our general routine goes out the window, it's so nice to have someone else around to help with things.

Why is it that on the weekends I feel the most organized? How do I translate that feeling into the week?

I'm hoping that my new-found energy will help. This afternoon, all the boys napped. While they napped, I did a Wii workout, prepared dinner and tidied up a bit. Normally during nap time I'm feeling so exhausted that I plunk my arse on the couch and surf the net and try and "regroup" while I have a few minutes to myself. I know I should be doing other things...laundry, cleaning, dinner prep...whatever. But I'm always too tired, and figure I deserve that time out for me. But today, instead of getting into bed with my hubby to nap, I took time for me...in a different, more productive way. It felt great! I felt like I was on top of things, and I even managed to get dinner on the table at a reasonable time, and made enough so there was leftovers for lunch, and a freezer meal! Talk about starting off the week on the right foot.

The only "fly in my ointment" so to speak is that right now I'm feeling rather fat. Ugh. I'm down 4lbs, which is great. I'm just hoping that by adding in more activity, I'll start dropping a bit more weight. This is always my issue. I like instant gratification! This is my reminder to myself that slow and steady is the healthiest way for me!

So now I'm off to do a little bit more of a workout, have a bath and then off to bed. Here's hoping that I get some good sleep tonight which will burn more fat!

What am I good at?

2010-01-09T17:44:00.000-08:00

Today, I was watching my son play with his train set. As always, I'm amazed by his excellent fine motor skills. He's got so many things he's good at, even at his young age. I'd love to take all the credit for that, but I know that a lot of it is just him.

So what am I good at? What are the "special gifts" that I bring to the world? I'm sure I could name some if pressed, but the one that comes to mind immediately is sleeping. Yes, you heard it. I'm good at sleeping. If there was an Olympic sport for sleeping, I'd win gold.

I had mono in second year university, and I've never quite been the same. I need a lot of sleep. A full night's sleep AND a nap is my idea of heaven. (well, finish that off with a glass of wine, and then that's pretty close to perfection in my eyes) Our first child is a champion sleeper...always has been. He takes after me I think. When I found out I was pregnant with our second child, I wasn't worried about how busy I'd be, or how I'd cope with two kids. Nope, not me. I worried about how much sleep I'd lose when the new baby came along.

Somehow, I've been coping. Perhaps not well, but I've been coping. Fortunately, my husband is used to my bizarre need-for-sleep and takes the kids each weekend so I can either sleep in, or have an afternoon nap. It helps me "catch up" and prepare for the week. Baby #2 still hasn't figured out how to nap for any great length of time when his brother does, nor is he sleeping through the night yet. I feel like I am struggling...constantly. I'm always tired.

I'm tired of being tired. This is probably the number one reason I'm doing this detox. I need some energy. I need to be able to do more than just "cope". I want to actually be present in this life I'm living. I want to stop living in a fog of sleeplessness and fatigue. And I'm quite sure my husband wants me to stop napping.

Today was the first day in MONTHS I didn't sleep in and I didn't nap. I had breakfast with my family. I took my baby swimming. I worked out in the afternoon. I held my baby and made him laugh over and over. I danced in the family room with my toddler. I made dinner with my husband. And I rocked my baby to sleep and watched him smile and laugh, even as his eyes were closed.

I was HERE. All day, I was here. And I'm full. Physically and emotionally, I'm full.

Here's hoping tomorrow is as good. But for now, I'll relish today.

I am a yo-yo...

2010-01-08T19:44:00.000-08:00

My weight has been yo-yo-ing for as long as I can remember. The last 6 years have been the worst. In my twenties it didn't seem to be that big of a deal. A few pounds on in the winter, and then when baseball season started in the spring, I'd shed them. By the time I turned 25, that became harder and harder to do. I'd put a few on in the winter, but then not lose it all in the spring. The following winter I'd put on a few more...well you get the picture. I started to compound. Like interest, but not as good.

Six years ago, almost to the day, I hit my highest weight ever. I was in a terrible marriage and very depressed. I was emotionally eating and I LOOKED like it. I managed to get out of the situation, and in a short period of time dropped the weight. I got some counselling and a new outlook on life. I was the happiest I'd been, and I LOOKED like it.

Five years ago I met my husband. We've had a beautiful life together, and I can now say I am absolulely the happiest I've ever been. Sure, we've had to deal with a few ups and downs, all of which brought some new weight to my curvy figure, but who hasn't had some setbacks? We've been blessed with two beautiful children, and I'm quite sure I love this man more now then the day I married him. And he loves me, no matter what I keep doing to my body.

So what's going on? Why now am I back up to my all-time highest weight? I'm not emotionally eating. I've been there, done that....I know what it looks like. Why is it that I have become obsessed with ensuring my family eats healthy, but I am overweight and sluggish? I'm doing all the right things, I have all the right tools....what gives?

In the middle of the night, while nursing my baby, I reflected on this. I haven't been emotionally eating. I've been thoughtlessly eating. A very different thing with basically the same result. Sure, I've got all the right food in the house, and I prepare healthy meals. My problem has always been portion control. And, I haven't been putting the right foods together. Of course, there is also my overwhelming addiction to sugar, and all-things-bad-for-me.

I love food. I'm not going to lie. I love a beautifully prepared meal, with a great glass of red wine. And I will always have dessert. I don't think once in awhile that will hurt. What's been hurting me is the constant late-night snacking. The big portions. The CARBS. (I love my carbs)

Day 5 has been a success. 4lbs down. How many more? I guess that's up to me. Clear and present eating. That's my plan for tomorrow, and the next day, and the next....

Rocking the detox

2010-01-07T14:50:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I'm not "old" technically...but I feel old. All of a sudden, my age is catching up with me. The face in the mirror is 20, but this body certainly is not. My knees are creaking, my back is a mess (thanks to two beautiful children), and I'm tired. All. the. time.

So I'm doing something about it.

Me, and a bunch of other lovely, strong women I've been blessed to meet are doing a detox together. Nothing crazy. Not those "off the shelf" things you hear advertised all the time. We're just using plain ol' food. Imagine that! A few supplements (like Vitamin D and Whole Food), and we're good to go.

So far, so good. Today is Day 4. The first part of the program is 2 weeks -- a colon cleanse. A whole lotta fruit, and a whole lotta vegetables. No wheat, sugar, dairy or red meat. Of course, my body and mind almost had a revolt before we started. How can I, a grade A certified sugar addict go without for TWO WHOLE WEEKS?!?!?!

I wasn't sure I could. Actually, I wasn't sure I could go without red meat for 2 weeks. But, so far so good.

Day 1, I didn't eat enough and was a raging lunatic. Rather bitchy, even for hormonal ol' me. By Day 2, the toxins were starting to escape and I had a giant headache. In the middle of the night, while feeding my baby, I honestly wondered if anyone had died from a headache. So I caved and took an ibuprofen. Much, much better. By Day 3, the craving for sugar was gone. Oh sure, I still am craving food. I can see the stuff in the store, or in my house, and it's calling my name...but I am not listening. For once in my life, something is stronger than the sugar. Not sure where I'm getting this willpower from. It's not really like me. I mean, I didn't get this body overnight. Oh no, this is tried-and-true lack of willpower people! So why now?

Day 4. Well, I'm down 3lbs. 3lbs in 3 days...yep, that's motivating. And I feel good. I don't feel so puffy or something. This afternoon is hard. It's the first day I've actually wanted to rip open a bag of chips, so I'm eating celery instead. Same crunch, but better for me :) And all my hummus is gone now, so I may be BACK at the grocery store tonight. I am getting rather sick of the grocery store trips. Obviously, this is teaching me how to be uber organized too!

One day at a time, I'm committed to making this work.