True story

Yesterday the girls and I were walking through Zeller$. We came to the ladies lingerie section where there were rows and rows of colourful bras hanging up.

Rosebud: Papoosie Girl, when you grow up and your boobies grow which one will you pick?
Papoosie Girl: (slightly dejected) When I grow up I won't have any taste.
Me: What? Why won't you have any taste when you grow up?
Papoosie Girl: (glancing my way) Look at you Mom you are all plain and stuff, I just figure you lose your taste for cool clothes when you grow up.

Note: I was wearing a solid brown Tommy long sleeved top with jeans and Sketchers. My bra and undies (which she saw me put on) sadly are of of the solid variety as well, noting that the undies are maternity undies in blue at least.)

Me: I have taste. I just wear more simple patterns and colours than you like.

Papoosie Girl: (not really convinced and grinning) OK Mom I guess you do have some taste.

Cut to this morning where I put on a navy and light blue rugby style maternity top she hasn't seen before...

Papoosie Girl: That top is nice Mom (I tell her it was Auntie Katrina's) maybe you do have some taste after all.

Me: Thanks honey.

****************************************************************
We have settled somewhat into our school routine. I just got a memo today though that some of the morning SK kids are going to be moved to the afternoon class with the same teacher. They are asking for volunteers, but even if they don't get them, some of the kids will be moved. This is not good for Rosebud since she is pretty tired in the afternoon and often naps or at least rests on her bed. Since I have a pretty good relationship with the Principal I am going to try to catch her later today to get more information and let her know that I would prefer for Rosebud to stay in the morning class...they want to hear concerns so I will oblige.

I am feeling better for the most part and am now 4 1/2 months along. It is starting to seem real now. We are talking about a new stroller and how we are going to combine the girls into one room. In some ways it seems so far off, but I know the fall will fly by and next thing you know it will be the holidays. My next ultrasound is in a few weeks and I think we are leaning towards finding out if this baby is a girl or boy. I still really don't want too, but I think it will make our preparations a lot easier.

I know I have been scarce around these parts, but I am reading even if I don't always comment. I have made a point of making my blog and blogging in general fit into my life, although I kind of miss when it was threatening to take over my life!

I keep saying to myself a family of five. It still doesn't always seem real. I hope I can hold it all together.

Not normally heard at a wedding

My Mom and I were enjoying a rare hot cup of tea last night after dinner, in that bewitching lull between bath and bedtime.

The girls were happily playing on the floor with the 300 or so Princess dolls (they are just like Polly Pockets, only they are the Disney Princesses) and they had an elaborate wedding all set out where two lucky princesses got to marry a prince which there are two of.

All of sudden Rosebud exclaims:

Wait! We have to stop the wedding I need to put on my pants and turn my body around. Everyone remain calm.

She is going to make someone very happy one day.

And a dolly, and a sled, and a new dress...

I have been hopelessly negligent in posting these days...here is a little Christmas cheer to get everyone in the mood.

I have waxed poetically about my urge and need to reduce and control the clutter in our house, the cathartic experience of freeing yourself from stuff. As we ramp up for the time of year when the most holiest and materialistic marry up in a dual to the finish, I find myself thinking of ways to do things better. Move away from the stuff and move towards helping others, creating memories and opening the girls up to new experiences. Angels singing in the background.

I am still wrestling with our five present rule we (admittedly made up and in fact quite random) a few years ago. That would be five gifts from Santa only on Christmas morning plus their stockings (stockings contain a toothbrush, socks, undies, maybe a small book -just the little things). We have not started any gifts from each other and so far we are happy with the simplicity of Christmas morning this way. The girls have three sets of grandparents, many other relatives and friends so they get many gifts. I put a lot of thought into their gifts and most everyone checks with me so I can make sure the girls they get things they want and will use...not just more plastic crap. She says as she lugs the Dora Let's Get Ready Vanity to the basement in a garbage bag...the ONLY item in Rosebud's letter to Santa...she eventually added a few other random items after much prompting. You can't get any more plastic and crap in one gift and let it be known I wrestled hard over this purchase and got it on sale for nearly half price. Guilt recedes a bit.

I don't exactly announce our five present idea to everyone I meet, but it has leaked it's way out and around in the last few years. It has been met with many a mixed review. Most older people yelp about how five is such a large number of gifts, surely one or two would do? Don't you have sticks and rocks for them already?!

Then on the other hand we get a lot of people who think we are just plain Scrooge-like and we are ruining Christmas and compromising their sweet holiday memories forever. Five was made-up, it had no significance other than it seemed like plenty to oh and ah over and to ensure it didn't look like Santa had forgotten us and few enough gifts that they didn't sit around for hours in an opening frenzy with about as much enthusiasm for each gift as Britney has for underwear.

We are sticking to our plan for this year since it all works out quite well in terms of what they want, what Santa is willing to give, and what I think is enough without being too much. My worst fear (well, one of the top five at least) is raising ungrateful little monsters who are looking for what is coming next. Beck had some great ideas for simple food and craft gifts that are easy to make and much more personal to give and receive. The girls and I are going to try the cocoa in a jar this year along with some shortbread cookies we make, a perfect homemade gift I would say and simple enough that I won't lose my mind in the process.

I am still deciding what charity project we will be doing this year. Our school is not doing the Shoebox campaign this year which is too bad because it is such a great project for young kids to work on. Instead we are doing an adopt-a-family campaign and collecting donations for five families. I want to do something else for just our family, to really send the message to the girls that we are privileged. Not to make them feel bad, they should not be made to feel guilty for being born into our family; but to make them aware that along with this privilege comes a responsibility. A responsibility to share our resources with those less fortunate than us, if I can not only get that message across in a way they understand, but can instill it in my girls; then I will have done well.

Making memories, creating traditions and helping others is the spirit of the season I want my girls to remember long after the gifts are opened.

Fall Down - Go Boom

Yup. That is what happened yesterday as I was leaving the house to pick up Rosebud from school. I locked the front door, turned around, took a step and the next thing I remember is hitting the patio stones of our walkway. I know I turned my left ankle so I think I stepped off with my left foot, it twisted under me and I fell forward and landed with a great thud.

I was so stunned I just sat up and cried on the walkway. In a moment of, I could be seriously hurt and no one would know, kind of way. At first I really could not stand, I am not a slight girl and the weight of falling from a step coupled with my weight knocked the wind out of me.

About a minute later I realized that I need to get up and by now both my shins were throbbing and so is my left ankle and it is now six minutes until I need to pick up Rosebud. A quick mental scramble reveals that all of my close by backup people are not home, so that leaves me to hobble to the van and get Rosebud.

Did I mention that I had promised Papoosie Girl she could come home for lunch? She asked me everyday last year, but because that would mean Rosebud would have to to miss her nap it never worked. Now that Rosebud has her ballet class on Thursday afternoons and doesn't nap anyway, it seemed like a good idea.

As I was driving to get Rosebud I called Hubby in what I would call a controlled panic. I blubbered through my fall and told him he would have to come home on time or please, please, please a bit early. As a certified klutz I am sure he was not too freaked out, though for the record he has stepped off that same step and twisted his ankle twice...this was my first time! Note to self: Is there a problem with the step or just the users? Look into.

Rosebud's teacher took one look at me and gasped. I guess I looked a little messed up. I managed to get both girls home and feed them lunch which thankfully I had prepared before I left the house and I even managed to get Papoosie Girl back to school on time, which basically meant I pulled up in the front of the school, called the secretary and told Papoosie Girl to buzz herself in.

Hubby made it home to take Rosebud to dance class and I lounged on the couch all afternoon alternatively feeling really stupid and really sorry for myself. Falling for me is a big deal because I have the worst legs in the world. I have huge, ugly veins on the surface of my skin so the slightest bump results in a huge lump where the vein bursts. I then need to wrap it in a tensor for a few days and the resulting bruise will last for weeks. I have looked into surgery, but they advise against it unless you are done having children. Since I am not willing to make that call as of yet, I have the crappiest, most sensitive veins ever. My legs will probably be bruised and sore for weeks now. Blech.

The only upside was how sweet and caring the girls were as I tried to wash my legs off and wrap them while they ate. Papoosie Girl got the Polysporin and band aids and kept telling me, "it's OK Mama it is the kids one so it won't sting" all the while I am trying to be brave and not cry in front of them. Rosebud kept telling me to sit down and they both insisted they were going to be the best listeners ever and not give me a, "bit of trouble" all day.

I have the sweetest girls and best husband who took over all house duties, made me the best supper, took care of the girls and made me tea while we watched Survivor and 30 Rock. How do people do this alone? What if I had no one to call? Those thoughts make me realize that while it is easy to say how lucky you are sometimes, I really am lucky.

Since I am not supposed to be on my feet today I have a free pass to blog and read all morning. Maybe it is not that bad after all.

That photo is of Papoosie Girl falling into the hay on our apple picking trip in September. I was not looking nearly as happy after my fall.

Life Imitates Art

The weather here in southern Ontario just keeps getting stranger. The temperature Sunday was around 26 degrees and sunny. We visited the McMichael art gallery today mainly to see the Robert Bateman exhibition which closes on - oh according to the website it has been extended an extra week until November 4, 2007. Today on the other hand was a wet and chilly morning.

I have wanted to bring the girls to the gallery for quite awhile, but was weary of the priceless works of art and you know my KIDS in the same room. Papoosie Girl had a science project recently on birds and she choose the Blue Jay. In my excitement of her first project, I love me a project! During our her research I wanted to show her some paintings of Blue Jays and we ended up on the Bateman website. I had forgotten how much I love his work. Then I heard about the Bateman exhibit and decided that we should visit the gallery. For good measure and an extra set of adults Nana and Papa (my Mom and her husband) came along for the visit.

I am fortunate enough that my step mom has several original Bateman prints that were my Dad's. I also bought my Mom a very tiny Bateman print of a chipmunk from an art sale when I was a cool office dweller working downtown. They had an art sale nearby and I could not resist the small framed print and wanted to surprise my Mom with a real grown-up gift. She still has it and it is up in her bedroom.

The Robert Bateman exhibit did not disappoint. The paintings were so amazing, his talent is really like no other in capturing nature. Many of the paintings were accompanied by his own words, why he did what he did or how he did it and that was so fascinating. His attention to detail and his vast knowledge of plants and wildlife is beyond compare. There was a painting titled Pacific that was so real I studied and studied it and declared it wet.

There is a quote on his website and appeared in the gallery literature that is worth sharing:

"I can't conceive of anything being more varied and rich and handsome than the planet Earth. And its crowning beauty is the natural world. I want to soak it up, to understand it as well as I can, and express it in my painting. This is the way I want to dedicate my life."

Despite my hotel tendencies and general lack of enthusiasm towards any kinds of roughing it, I feel a pull towards nature, towards trees and rocks and blue skies. If I am in the city for too long without any nature time I crave it as much as food. Visiting the gallery and seeing all the people marvelling over Bateman's work confirmed that I am not alone. We have advanced so far away from our natural roots as modern, twenty-first century people; yet we pay money and line-up to see paintings of the natural world. It is like we can somehow absorb life through these paintings.

I have not visited the gallery in ages and had forgotten how much I love the Group of Seven artists. I felt like I was taking a walk down memory lane as I meandered the gallery taking in the works of A. Y. Jackson, Tom Thomson and Lawren Harris. Images so familiar to me, I guess in part because my school used to make at least one trip a year to the gallery, but also because I am seeing my country in these images, through my adult eyes.

The gallery was pretty busy and we waited about 5-10 minutes to get down the driveway to pay ($5) for parking. The grounds are actually just as nice as the gallery itself, there are several paths to walk and artwork throughout the grounds, the girls loved the Inukshuk. It was so pretty with the gorgeous views of the Humber Valley and we got some great shots of the girls romping along the paths.

The gallery is mostly stroller friendly for those of you thinking of visiting with the munchkins. Rosebud was tired and insisted we go back to the van for the stroller before we even started which actually was better since having her loose near the paintings was making me sweat. The paintings are not roped off in any way and I saw many toddlers get too close only to be told by the many staff to not go any closer than the lights on the ceiling. Um, yeah like a three year old is going to understand that. I did see many frazzled parents trying to keep curious hands off the artwork which is definitely within reach of little hands.

All the bathrooms had change tables and the lobby sold drinks, snacks and sandwiches. There was a restaurant downstairs (I never saw an elevator so you might have to carry your stroller down) but the buffet was $16 dollars so we opted for a few snacks and water before heading out for a walk. There is a small Discovery Area for the kids at the end of the gallery tour and the girls loved it, but it is pretty small, not more than two families would fit comfortably. I would definitely take Papoosie Girl back and since we got a membership that seems likely, but I might not take Rosebud if I was alone. It is hard for them to understand that there is no touching when we have taken them to so many kid-friendly museums and such.

Papoosie Girl was fascinated with the First Nations and Inuit art and loved the totem poles - just like on Little Einstein's! There were artists on hand and an art sale and one of the artists let her roll clay and spent a lot of time explaining to her what she was doing. I was grateful for an extra set of hands so she could spend some time with the artist. She was definitely in her element.



Even if this wasn't the most leisurely visit, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We got off to a late start and didn't arrive until 12pm, I usually prefer an early start for day trips, but this was a pancake morning - with our new Halloween shapes thanks to our evening visit to Yorkdale last night (quick trip to the Apple store for Hubby) and our visit to Williams & Sonoma. By the way, I don't make pancakes, well hardly ever. Daddy is the master pancake maker and loves his shapes, this is the second set we have bought and have had the first set for over a year now.

Just so you don't think we have piles of money lying around for such important things like pancake molds. For those of you kitchen obsessed, Yorkdale is getting a Crate & Barrel in 2008! Yes American friends we are still missing several of your wonderful stores, including Victoria's Secret (best underwear on the planet), Bath and Body Works, Target, and let's not forget Olive Garden -which we had and lost. Hence, why I need to make my frequent visits to my favourite stores family in New York.

I love when we introduce the girls to something new, it feels like such an accomplishment. Art and nature and history are so important to me and I want to share that and those feelings with my girls. Imagine my pride when Papoosie Girl would surprise us with some little gem of knowledge throughout the day, see I am doing a good job I would think! As I glance at my fridge covered in artwork I understand, how indeed, life imitates art.

How much do you think medical school is anyway?

This is just a wee little post mostly for some shameless promotion of cuteness. We bought this doctors costume recently and my check-ups have increased dramatically. The glasses are part of the doctors kit we got long ago, actually we have two doctors kits worth of instruments that currently reside in a large Ziploc bag, the doctors bag in shreds from over-use.




I seldom wonder what my girls will be when they grow up, I am not sure why. Sometimes I think it is because I am still busy wondering what I am going to be when I grow up. My sister-in-law has two kids in university one is studying kinesiology in the hopes of becoming a therapist of one kind or another and the other hopes to become a pharmacist. She is extremely proud of both of them of course, but has been known to joke about maybe one of them becoming a doctor. I wonder would I be prouder of a doctor versus a pharmacist? I doubt it, but having never been there maybe at some point it will matter to me. Right now I would be happy if Rosebud learns her letters before Kindergarten and starts pooping in the potty more often (we are on day 6 currently of no action) these are my lofty goals at the moment.

I do see little glimpses of how easy it can be to want more for your kids, to want them to strive higher and higher. When Papoosie Girl learned to read at age 4 I was thrilled, a prodigy this child is! Once the excitement wore off a bit I was just to happy to sharing one of my passions, essential to life pursuits with my daughter. It meant so much to me and still does. Rosebud however, is very different and at three and a half can only write two letters. At this age Papoosie Girl was already in JK and could write all the letters, numbers to 10 and her name. I try not to compare, but it is really hard. Rosebud (in my opinion) should be able to write her name before she starts school, but she has very little interest in sitting at the table to practice no matter how fun I make it. Papoosie Girl was always keen and determined to master tasks and made teaching her a breeze.

I have several friends whose little monkey's started school without being able to write their names, but I must admit I am working hard to make sure that is not the case for Rosebud. I hate the idea of her being behind before she starts, although I hope that doesn't sound as bad as all that. I just want her to enjoy JK and not be struggling with something I know she is not crazy about.

Well this started out as a post of some cute pics and here goes my hamster on a wheel brain again. I have no idea how much medical school costs and to be honest I don't really want to know all that much. I need to focus on the here and now, "Come here Rosebud, can you spell scholarship for Mommy?"

Beauty Shop

So this isn't really supposed to be the place to whine and complain about being tired or alone with the girls from the minute they wake up until they lay their sweet heads upon their pillows. So I won't say that at all. Or that some days seem to stretch on forever like the sky.
And really not all days are like that....just some. And even if I am so very very tired, I love my job and would not trade it for the world.

The other day the girls were playing beauty shop and needed another customer (they had already suitably fixed each other up) and since I was just too tired to disagree I complied. I sat on the edge of the sofa for nearly an hour while they primped and yanked (ouch) my hair until they were satisfied. They take this beauty gig seriously and spent quite a bit of time getting it all just right. Most of the accessories are from a long ago "beauty head" the girls had, but got tired of playing with, they much prefer a real head.

I had one of those "styling heads" too as a child and would spend hours fixing her hair with the little velcro curlers. It amazes me that despite how different our childhoods are they are also in so many ways the same.

We were interrupted only once by the doorbell. The look on my teenage neighbours face was priceless as he asked for the ladder, their birdies had all gone into the eaves and we are the only people with a ladder. Then again he is about 15 so he should understand this kind of strange.

Once were done they insisted I take a look in the mirror and take some "real" pictures of my new do. So here they are, the result of an afternoon indulged in beauty and so much fun. Sometimes a trip to the beauty shop is just what you need.

How quickly things change

I went to Papoosie Girl's school today to register Rosebud for Junior Kindergarten in the fall. It seems like yesterday we were registering Papoosie Girl. I remember so clearly heading over to the school so nervous and nauseous over the fact that my baby was going to be in school soon. Rosebud was an infant in her car seat and slept through the entire thing. I remember carefully gathering all the forms and required information before we went. Birth certificate - check - Baptismal certificate - check - Yellow immunization thing - check, check, check. Hubby came home early, it certainly was an occasion.

I remember walking into the school feeling very excited and scared and wondering how on earth is my little baby girl going to manage in this big bad school. It did not help that registration was two months after her third birthday and she was still in pull-ups at the time. I remember the reverence of the occasion and the fact that hubby left work early so we could be there right at 7pm. I remember the irrational, unavoidable things running circles in my head, would they like us, would they like her, would they see the unique, special, gifted girl that we so clearly did?

Once the forms were completed (there were many!) we looked around a bit and met the principal and vice-principal (both women) and felt a bit better about handing over our precious, delicate, no one knows her better than us firstborn; in a few short months. The school is relatively small, around 450 kids at the time and the atmosphere was very friendly. Despite my trepidations I did feel that Papoosie Girl would be in good hands. We left our registration experience relieved and thankful we had several months before September and this started for real.

After our meet the teacher night in early September and our staggered visits to the school throughout early September, it was finally time for her first real day of school with half of the class. I was so much more overwhelmed than I thought I would be. We got her dressed oh so cute in her skirt and top and Dora shoes and strapped on her Dora backpack that was as big as she was. I had a lump in my throat and tried to put on a brave face for everyone, especially Papoosie Girl. Once she was in the little yard, we waited for the bell and watched her walk inside. As you can see from the photo, letting go is so hard sometimes. Parents are not allowed inside at all in her school and what the photos don't show are some parents trying to pry off screaming children from around their necks. How was Papoosie Girl you ask? Fine of course, no tears, no drama, a smile and a wave and she was gone.

Once she was inside I told hubby to head to work, Rosebud and I were going for a walk. After walking and crying for a while I headed to our local grocery store that has a little cafe area. I grabbed a coffee and sat down. Hubby walks in about a minute later, he tried to go to work but decided he needed to see me again, to make sure I wasn't as unraveled as he felt. I remember thinking I have children and they are old enough to go to school, how did that happen? When did she get so big? I say this every day practically, with almost no recollection of the hundreds of times I have said it before. These kids, they get big so fast and each time you realize it - it is like realizing it for the first time again and again.

So back to today. Certainly, this was not an occasion on the same scale as it was for Papoosie Girl. I am a member of the School Council, I am familiar with the school, the principal, secretary and many teachers. I frequently visit the school and certainly do not feel nervous or sick upon entering these halls. I popped into the office, got the forms, filled them out and that was it. Rosebud wanted to visit the fish in the library before we left, so we did. And that was it, done. She is officially registered for JK in the fall. No drama, no anxiety other than I feel really old today. Me, school-age kids, what?

I am sure I will be nervous on Rosebud's first day of school, anxious even at the thought of her starting school. It really is a huge step when school enters a child's life. It is a lifelong relationship they are starting with school and learning. A relationship I enjoyed so much as a child and want to pass along in my girls - badly. I want them to love school, want to learn, be curious, make friends, grow up and save the world - a parent can dream. Actually, my dreams and goals for them are not so important. I want them to realize their own, whatever they might be. I know that a good foundation in learning will take them wherever their hearts desire. If I am measured by nothing else but this, I will have done a remarkable thing in my lifetime.

Today was the first step for Rosebud. Even if the day was not a colossal event of time's past, it was important and I am glad I have recorded it. The relaxed visit to the school today might have been a big change, but that is fine by me. Sometimes change is good.

Snow!

I know most of my friends in Southern Ontario enjoyed a lovely snowstorm yesterday. I think some of you may still be enjoying it today.

We had fun last night and while I should be finishing my post, these photos are much cuter than my boring old words.

Hope everyone is safe and sound while they dig out.

Co-workers

One of the things I missed immediately not working in an office (besides the bathroom breaks, lunchtime shopping sprees, and the ability to drink a hot beverage without reheating it five times) were my co-workers. I made so many wonderful friends and leaving them was hard. However, leaving the petty, snide, and adolescent antics of some co-workers behind was easy. There is so much more I could say about this but, I won't. I have prided myself on not trash talking when I have so much fodder it would fill a book, it serves no purpose. The friends I have made are a still part of my life and while it is not quite the same, we still try to keep in touch regularly.

My job, while fulfilling in so many ways, clouded my head with office politics type of nonsense that when you are in the thick of it the only way to describe it is; suffocatingly real. Then, once it is no longer a part of your life you can look back and only wonder why you shed tears over such absurd situations office life can place you in. Between finishing university and when I became a work-at-home Mom I worked about nine years marketing. First, at a hip downtown agency and then moving "client side" when I realized it is a long commute from Brampton to Bay & Bloor everyday.

I "left" my job under the pretense of an up-coming restructure and was given a package. It was truthfully however, nothing more than a conflict of personalities. The boss who hand-picked me to take the job, personally asked me to be a part of her team, walked me to the boardroom to be "restructured." To be honest, most people assume I left my job, and most of the time I don't correct them. In a way, I did leave first. I was unhappy, and was already looking for something else, and I am sure they sensed that. I was never let-go from anything in my life, the feeling of not being in control is unnerving and I had not really experienced it before. I think I handled it fairly well, no drama, no tears, emptied my desk, filled my bags, walked to my car, called my husband while heading to my best friend's house for lunch.

Once the shock wore off I adjusted to life at home quite easily, I was only back at work about six months after my one year maternity leave with Rosebud, before I was let-go. In my heart I had always entertained the idea of staying at home but, never really considered it in earnest. It just wasn't something I thought was possible, what about the bills, our lifestyle, how do you manage? In addition, my job had the benefits and pension so leaving seemed impossible. When I look back now, I realize that while my worries were founded they were not impossible to hurdle. We are making this work, and even though we are in our very small house and are making do with less we are still extremely comfortable, the girls take lessons, we eat out occasionally, we took a holiday last year; life is extremely good.

I worked exactly two years between my maternity leaves and during that time there was always a nagging feeling that my time was being wasted. This is not to spark any debate about being a working in the home versus out of the home argument. For me personally, things were never quite right. My job was interesting and in many ways brought me satisfaction and the feeling of contributing to a greater good. Once Papoosie Girl came along though things really changed for me. I was struggling a bit (mentally and physically) towards the end of my pregnancy and ultimately left work before I was supposed to, about eight weeks ahead of my due date. It is like my body was telling me something and in the end even though she was due on January 27, 2001, she made her debut before the end of the year. This meant I missed the one year maternity leave (by about 50 hours my nurses calculated) which was a real letdown. I ended up taking eight months off, the last two without benefits.

Once back at my job, and after adjusting to the new routine I realized that I felt something was not quite right. Everyone assured me that this feeling would pass as I adjusted to the routine, the problem I was adjusted and it was not right. I was busting my butt for artificial deadlines and was being convinced it really was the end of the world if this newsletter mailed one day late; based on a schedule that was randomly selected to start with. I know I am smart and I know I made great contributions to my job but, the investment I was making felt misplaced. I wanted to invest in my daughter, I wanted to focus on a different job security, one that ensured she would still be talking to me in her teens.

My decision to remain at home (for now) is the right one for me. I don't think I would have ever made such a bold move and in some divine way this turned out exactly right. The inflated feeling that you can never be replaced is washed away awfully fast when you are humbled in such a way. It was good for me though, to experience this let-down. It taught me that at the end of the day, you need to know who you are, what you are capable of and understand that no one can ever take that from you. Jobs may come and go but, you remain the same competent person you always were. The funny thing is I rarely talk about how my job ended. It is like it transpired and then vanished. Life has gone on, and in a good way.


So back to my current co-worker of the last (almost) two years at my working-at-home job. Who wouldn't want a co-worker who replaces track pants for a tutu or apron once in a while? Now that Papoosie Girl is in school all day Rosebud and I have really started to enjoy our pal around time together. Leisurely strolls, breakfast at Tim Horton's some mornings, and just generally enjoying each other's company. Then I get to pick up Papoosie Girl from school and hear all about her day. I have friends who would do anything to be in my place, I try very hard to appreciate how lucky I am, all the while trying to prevent my brain from melting.

I get invited to tea parties, for check-ups, puppet shows, and more. We spend time in her make-believe world and pretty much ignore the real one when we can. My schedule that I love to follow has been neglected (blogging is to blame more probably) and once in a while I don't even clean on Thursday like I am supposed to.

Rosebud goes to JK next year so I know the time for this is running out. I plan to get every ounce out of our time together before then. While the days are long the years really are short and I want this one to last forever.

Things heard around here

This blog was supposed to be about the girls so I guess I should try a bit harder to include them! Here are some of the things heard around our place in the last few weeks.

Papoosie Girl
To her father, "Yes, I have thought about Mom's birthday, I have a list in my purse I just haven't got around to it yet."
Umm this doesn't sound like me at all...

To me, "Actually Mom, I think I probably know more about this than you."
Even if this was true, whatever, I am your mother. The word actually, appears at the beginning of many sentences these days.


Rosebud
Referring to the top bunk of bunk beds as, "the tippy tippy top."

Calling various things, "Gwoss."

Referring to short sleeve shirts as the, "up sleeves shirts."

Calling everyone in her pretend play, "sweetie-hon", and repeatedly telling her dolls/me to, "not touch it, not a bit, I can see you."

Telling me her yogurt is, "Minigo-ish."

Asking me, "Can I talk?"
After non-stop chatter, and both of them trying to have conversations with me at the same time in our van, I will occasionally say loudly, "no more talking." After a while Rosebud will ask if she can talk, Papoosie Girl however, can barely last a minute.

Telling everyone she watches Y&R all day. I do occasionally, watch the Young and the Restless however, I record it and watch it when the girls are in bed. They have never seen it, ever. If you ask her what her favourite show is she will often answer with Y&R.
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It is so hard to remember all the funny, silly, eye-popping things that come out of their mouths. I am grateful they are so curious and want to talk to me, but, there are times I am sure my head will explode.

When they are young all you want is for them to talk, so they can tell you what hurts, for peeks into their personalities, to understand them. When it happens however, it can be another thing. Today they start talking the minute their eyes are open and often as I am tucking in Papoosie Girls she is still trying to tell me a story about something.

Right now Rosebud is napping, Papoosie Girl is out with her Daddy, and I am savouring the gentle sounds of the radio. I know this is a short-lived silence and I would not have it any other way. It sure is nice though, thoughts pop into my head and stay there, I can hear myself think. A real treat in my world.

Dishing out the truth

I think you are either blessed with children that eat* or sleep, not both. Sounds fairly simple, right? It is, and after no scientific study whatsoever and lots of my opinion and me studying all of our friends with children, this is the conclusion I have come to about this topic. This doesn't mean that children who sleep well eat nothing at all, or that children who sleep poorly eat liver and onions. Just in general, children are more inclined to be better at one over the other. That is the way it is in our house anyway.

*When referring to eating this does not apply to the true baby stage of nursing or formula. This applies to when babies turn into toddlers and preschoolers and can voice an opinion on their food preferences.

Mine are sleepers. I have been blessed with children that more or less have slept fairly well from early on. By about eight to ten weeks both girls slept through the night. By this, I mean had a feeding around 10pm or 11pm then slept to 5am or 6am ate and went back to sleep for a bit more. They napped with great regularity with two solid naps a day then down to one. Rosebud at 3 years old still naps about two hours every afternoon.

That is not to say we didn't experience nights from hell. When Papoosie Girl had colic she slept wherever and whenever she wanted. That included, but was not limited to, the car seat, swing, and stroller. We took her for car rides to put her to sleep many nights. We also had teething set backs, nightmares, and changes in routine. When I returned to work after my eight month maternity leave, I slept on Papoosie Girl's floor on an inflatable mattress for a week, otherwise she screamed for hours.

In general though, whatever setback we experienced we were always able to get back on track. My girls went to sleep awake, fell asleep and stayed asleep with great predictability. Sleep was something that came easily and when it didn't we were able to tough it out and get them back on track fairly easily. I did let them CIO (cry it out) occasionally, and they generally slept by themselves in their own rooms. I am not a big Family Bed proponent but, I do have friends who do it and I completely respect their decision (especially for those nursing.) Personally, it is just not for me. One, I need my sleep or am not a functioning person and I was afraid I would roll on them or somehow squish them. While I wasn't a crazed Ferber follower we did follow that mindset when treating any sleep issues. The idea being we would help them figure out how to get to sleep as opposed to doing it for them.

So they sleep, great. Now everyone is mad at us. Not so fast, life cannot really be that rosy. Although they do sleep and go to bed by 8pm every night with absolutely no fuss we pay a price. Our food situation is not exactly as show-stopping.

Up until the age of two Papoosie Girl ate just about everything you gave her. She ate meat, veggies and fruit with no qualms. She was never a fan of peaches and pears (still is not) and did not like peas (I swear I had nothing to do with that.) She ate regular meals with regular food and life was good. She could eat an entire chicken breast and we started ordering entrees for her in restaurants because I was tired of sharing and starving. I remember being in a restaurant and another mother asking me how I got her to eat "real" chicken. At the time, I remember feeling slight smugness telling her she didn't even know what a "nugget" was. Of course, that same mother would see us now and laugh. Papoosie Girl did not have a potato chip until she was three years old. With the first one I was able to control what she ate fairly well.

At around the age of two Papoosie Girl started to become "picky". When I look back now I realize it was a gradual process and something that should have been addressed at the time, not now after the fact. First it was meat, then certain vegetables, then certain fruits. Soon she had a menu of about five foods she would eat and they were mostly some form of a white carb. By the age of three she lived on her Yia Yia's homemade chicken rice soup (her only meat), grilled cheese, pancakes, french toast, scrambled eggs, macaroni with cheese, spaghetti and Parmesan, and very few veggies or fruits and absolutely no meat other than what was in the soup. Oh, she loved cookies and treats but, healthy food choices were a struggle. She also had issues with texture and no matter how much we minced things she would just not be able to eat sometimes.

Our doctor was never overly concerned about this and said that the more you force the more a toddler will resist. He told stories of kids eating one or two foods for months and they were perfectly fine. So, between my internet self-diagnosis of the problem, his advice and parenting books all echoing the same thing, I didn't obsess too much, not an easy feat for me either.

By now Rosebud was born and we were busier and more tired and it just became easier to let her eat what she wanted. Most nights hubby works past the dinner hour so it would just be me and Papoosie Girl, it seemed to exhausting to make a lovely healthy supper for two that would be diligently ignored by one of the guests. I either ate what she ate with a salad on the side or whatever yummy food my mother-in-law packed for me at my last visit.

Rosebud followed a similar pattern of being a great eater until the age of two. Then the same gradual process started to unfold. During these two years I would go on a rampage even now and then and would cook only healthy food for everyone and insist they eat/try everything. This would last a week or so and I would get tired of tossing meals out and I would go back to making them what they wanted. I would hear of families that made one dinner for everyone and the kids ate everything the adults ate, I could lie, but that would not be remotely close to, "dishing out the truth." Truth was I did not make one meal, hardly ever. The only meal we ate together was (whole wheat) spaghetti, hold the sauce for Papoosie Girl. I personally know children who eat any and everything you put in front of them, I am always amazed to see kids scarfing down grilled salmon or asparagus.

As Papoosie Girl got older we started a reward system. If she ate meat or tried a new fruit or vegetable she got a sticker on the calendar. After 10 stickers - give or take - a trip to Woodbine Mall for some rides. This has worked very well with her and she now regularly eats many of the foods we originally tried. She eats fruit now and a few veggies and although meat is still a struggle we are working on it. Her personality is suited to this reward system and after many discussions about healthy eating and studying the food pyramid she gets it. She understands now that when we put healthy things in our bodies you become a healthy person.

This strategy has not worked so well for Rosebud. She is much more stubborn and not so much a pleaser as Papoosie Girl. You can put a box of Smarties on the table and tell her if she just tastes the orange she gets them. She will tell you, "I really don't like Smarties" and walk away. She will never have a fit or beg for the treat just dismiss the whole event. I even tried a fruit party with hats, balloons, the whole works, Rosebud would not try a single fruit. She will tell you she will eat it when she is bigger, maybe when I'm four she will say.

People always assumed we were giving our girls lots of snacks but, that was not the case either. They hardly ever ate between meals. We have friends whose children cannot go twenty minutes without eating something, whether it is fruit or cereal bars or Minigo. They are constantly eating something which is something my girls never do, in fact, they could easily skip meals if you didn't prompt them.

Where is this all going? I guess I am just trying to figure out how hard I want to draw the line in the sand. I have dear friend who grew up like me an only child and meals were a battleground. She vividly remembers sitting at the table gagging down food with her stomach in knots. All the focus was on her and she remembers the horrible feeling of staring at her plate night after night. I would never subject my kids to such torture of course, but is it say mean to force a few bites of a food I know they like? We have talked about healthy food, read books and made collages, painted pictures, and created food animals and people but ultimately, I cannot eat for them. This is a power struggle of epic proportions and I just don't want to engage that way with them.

There are no definitive answers here folks, sorry. I think we are on our way to a healthier eating plan but we have a ways to go. I am so proud of Papoosie Girl for trying new foods, I know it is still hard for her and I blame myself for letting it get so out of hand. I don't want to spend the rest of their childhood trying to figure out how to "hide and disguise" food. I want mealtimes to be about sometimes having your favourites and sometimes having things that are not your favourite. I try to not describe food as good or bad, just healthy or not really healthy. They both understand that before anything not so healthy can be eaten you must fill up on healthy first. They understand that they will be strong and well if they do that, but actually doing it is sometimes a struggle. I don't want food to be the enemy, I worry they will fall into bigger food issues as they get older.

I hope that Rosebud follows her big sister's lead and there are signs of progress, a couple of nights ago she ate some salad! Rosebud is suffering from some constipation issues right now after her five days of stomach flu the first week of January and three days later a fractured foot she has just not been eating or moving enough to keep things moving. The doctor told us today we have to put her on stool softeners and natural laxatives to help things along at least until the blockages move out. If this isn't motivation enough to get us eating better I don't know what is. Watching her suffer with stomach pain and a bloated tummy is horrible.

So, the sleepers want kids who eat and the eaters want kids who sleep once in a while. I just want two healthy little girls who enjoy meals. When Papoosie Girl gets excited about Raspberry salad dressing and Rosebud eats a huge bowl of whole wheat spaghetti covered in vegetable rich sauce I know I am doing good job. I want more of that and once in a while I think I would trade a good nights sleep for it. Well, once in a while anyway.

Then it was pink

We visited the Fracture Clinic today and we are with cast still. After a brief debate we settled on pink for our new cast. We go back again in two weeks to have it removed. So I remain Rosebud's chief form of transportation for a little while longer. I am booking my massage now.

As you can see she is not terribly concerned by it all!

Casting call

Many people comment that Rosebud is our "boy" something about her toughness that prompts this comment. I realize it is so ridiculous since we have so many sensitive boys and scrappy little girls around us (and vice versa for that matter) that it is probably all hogwash. None the less people say this to us. It is like they think I mind that I have two girls so having one sort of like a boy makes it better. I find it all kind of funny but, usually keep my comments to myself. Stay out of trouble that way.

If you knew Papoosie Girl you would know she is so stubborn (hubby's side for sure) she never backs down...she will fall on her magic fairy wand first. And, if you really knew her you would know she has two left feet. She walks into walls and trips over her own feet with great regularity. We actually put foam stripping around our half wall leading out of our kitchen since she used to walk into head first over and over. Hubby wanted to buy this foam helmet we found at WalMart when she was one or two and make her wear it all the time. We didn't but, many a goose-egg later we regretted it.

An example of her grace:

Papoosie Girl: I have to pee.
Me: OK go pee...
Walking up hallway completely empty, not a single thing on the floor.

CRASH!

Me: What happened!!
Papoosie Girl: I was walking along and then I fell. Sob. Cry.
Me: What?! What did you fall on?
Papoosie Girl: I don't know. More sob and cry.
Me: So you were just walking along and then you were on the floor?
Papoosie Girl: I think so.
Me: [In my head, good grief] Well, let's see the damage...big bruise on knee, hand is a bit mangled but you will survive. And, oh yeah go pee.

Now that she is six and wears glasses things are no better I assure you. So that leads us to Monday night. Never in our wildest dreams did we think Rosebud would be the first to break something. The whole event is so tragically boring - she jumped HOLDING her Dad's hand from the second last step to the landing. She immediately crumbled to the floor and from the look on her face and serious crying we knew something was wrong.

We put an icepack and gave her some Advil and after an episode of Max & Ruby she fell asleep on the sofa. Deciding not to move her we left her and she slept most of the night despite the bulge on the top of her foot. We debated taking her to ER then but decided to wait until morning and see how things were looking. In the morning the bulge was the same and she would not let us touch it or try to walk on it so off to ER we go. It was actually fairly painless, a bit of waiting, an x-ray, and the doctor telling us we needed a cast. Uh. Excuse me? She has a growth plate fracture, or Salter fracture I was told. She will need a temporary plaster cast and in a week they will take it off and re-evaluate. If it seems fine we are done, if not it will be re-casted for about 4 weeks. Yikes.

Have you tried bathing a child with a cast? My back is already spasming from carrying her everywhere. I know it could be so much worse so really I am not complaining, well, not a lot anyway.

Guess what else? According to the doctor and Google they occur twice as often in boys.

Words

These are some of the words Rosebud has used this week in no particular order:

barbarian
hopeless
disaster

Rosebud I might remind you is three years old! (Sorry for the misleading pic-no we don't have a prodigy on our hands-see note below) I think we are in big trouble if she can say and use these words in perfect context so soon. I am fairly certain these are all from The Little Mermaid her current fave movie. Papoosie Girl is still so scared of Ursula she can barely watch while Rosebud has it all figured out, "Mommy is Ariel's Daddy bad?" "No sweetie he is just upset because Ariel was late for the concert." Rosebud replies with, "Is Ursula bad or does she have a tummy ache?" If only all bad people in the world just had tummy aches. Can you tell I watched The National tonight while sitting at my laptop while dear hubby snored on the sofa.

I digress. While Rosebud has a wonderful and expansive vocabulary she still does have a bit of babyism clinging to her that I never correct...I just can't bring myself to. Not that I repeat them either, it is just such a little bit of baby left. It is all ending too soon as it is. Again in no particular order:

Are sir for Arthur
Max and Ruvy for Max and Ruby
speggy for spaghetti
quackers for crackers
hopsicle for popsicle

I know this is no great revelation and I am sure my other great blogger mom's could fill pages and pages with cute and adorable babyisms but the thing is these are so far and few between in my house now. I sometimes think I must do this again. The baby thing that is, so I can get it right and document every last detail so I will never forget. I have kept some form of book, journal and calendar at all times but it never feels like enough. Why is it when I hold a friends newborn and stare at that tiny person I think why don't I remember all this? The little ear like a fiddlehead, the downy head, the way they fit so perfectly in your arms. No answers folks. The jury is still out on this one.

Words brought me here tonight. And, I guess brought me more places than I bargained for. Wonderful wonderful words. Just waiting for the right time to escape. Rosebud no doubt feels the same way.


Note adorable baby picture of Rosebud cruising our halls in Papoosie Girl's doll stroller. Shameless chance for me to peek at our little cutie.