My favorite song for awhile now has been “Home” by the Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros.
It is a true representation of how I feel about my boys.
Although we have a physical home that we share, I feel that as long as I am with them and wherever that may be, it always feels like home to me.
Here is the video which isn’t really a video but you get to hear this magnificently quirky song.
When a baby is born we all focus on this beautiful miracle.
First we make sure that all of the vital signs are there and then we move on to all of the tests that help us understand whether or not everything else is okay.
We revel in the beauty of this little human and are now curious as to how this little person will develop.
In the hustle and bustle of it all we forget to look at the person who gave birth to this child.
This person was once on her own, just like the rest of us.
Worrying about trivial things.
Trying to figure out which outfit goes with which occasion.
Then the big bang happens; literally and figurativily.
This is followed by the “plus” sign on the little plastic stick and BOOM!
The feeling that a woman gets when she finds out that she is carrying another human being in her body is unbelievable.
Now comes a forty week journey.
This takes a lone soul on a journey with a new soul that is literally connected to her.
Within these forty weeks this woman grows and develops immensley; physically, emotionally and mentally.
She becomes a protector.
She becomes a nurturer.
She becomes a mother.
She goes through an immeasurable amount of emotion.
Then one day that baby comes a knocking; more like a PUNCHING or if you were more like me, a KICKING!
The moment that child comes out she is officially a mother.
A creator of life!
She is so overwhelmed with joy and love that the world around her feels like a soft cloud.
Any pain she recently felt is now non existant. Take a moment to remember to love her and her journey.
To know that there is a real person behind the little person that was just born.
We need to love her.
Celebrate her for all that she is.
She is a mother and that is truly a beautiful thing.
I recently had a text chat with a friend of mine who is currently expecting her first child.
She lives 3 hours out of the city, her family lives in the city, and so naturally I asked her if she is going to get some help for the first few days.
She mentioned that her mom will be coming for a couple of days.
A couple of days?!?
She said that people had already warned her that it won’t be enough time but then she said something that made a lot of sense.
She said that her and her mom have different ideas as to how to deal with a baby and she may be better off doing it on her own.
This brought up so many thoughts and emotions for me.
I’m already on baby number two and my mom has a heavy hand in helping me with the kids.
She cooks for them on occasion (anytime I ask for that matter), she takes them to her house for sleepovers and she’ll come with me to appointments with the two of them.
These are the things that allow me to have a social life, get my personal needs tended to and still get to date my husband.
As with all great things in life there is always a catch.
My mom comes from a very different place and time.
somewhat extremely neurotic.
She believes in coddling her kids/grandkids.
She believes that she knows best and I should do what she says.
Realistically, I can handle the first two aforementioned things.
I think it’s only natural for a babushka (Russian for grandma) to be neurotic and to be a coddler.
It’s that last point that causes some serious friction.
I know that my mom knows what she’s doing but I don’t necessarily agree with her approach all of the time.
For example, when Nate was learning to eat on his own I was very adamant to let him experiment with food.
I stayed clear of his tray and whatever he would eat would be good enough, especially considering that he was a very good eater.
My mom, on the other hand, would chase him around the room with a meal and feed it to him while he was busy playing or doing whatever a toddler does.
Now let me begin by saying that it is very difficult to tell someone that you want them to do things differently when they are more experienced and when they are so gosh darn helpful.
I would start off by mentioning my approach to eating while we would actually be eating together.
She would get offended but would agree.
I would reply with a sigh of relief at the fact that it didn’t have to be a battle.
Here comes the hurricane.
The next time she saw him she would point out that he seems to have lost weight and would ask me what I am feeding him.
I’ve come to terms with the fact that by default moms take a very passive aggressive approach with their daughters.
It is innate in them.
This uncontrollable urge to stay calm but angry all at once.
These comments would inevitably lead to a verbal war and we would avoid each other for a couple of days until she started missing Nate and came back.
NEVER apologizing, just returning as though nothing had happened.
So, to my good friend who is waiting on that little miracle to arrive and to all women who have moms that are going to be involved with your kids.
Just like in any relationship you need to remember to pick your battles.
Always know that you are here and doing well so your mom must have done something right.
Know that she loves you a lot but she probably loves your kids even more and will guard them with her life.
She means well and she truly wants the best for you and your baby cub.
At the end of the day, she is the original lioness and only means well.
So take a deep breath in and remember that it won’t be perfect but you are lucky to have a mamabear that wants to help you and be there every step of the way.
My strength is endless until one of my kids is sick. That is the moment I feel the weakest yet I manage to muster up the strength to nurse them back to health.
It is in these times that I am reminded of my mother saying “you’ll never know how it feels until you have kids”.
You truly never know until you have been up for days and are full of worry yet you smile from ear to ear just so that your little one feels comfortable.
Gawd I love my kids!
There was once a wonderful time when Friday meant that the end of the week has arrived and there are two glorious sleep in days waiting for me.
There was no such thing as “breakfast” because I was a gal who brunched!
Saturday’s were meant for shopping and making plans for the evening.
Sunday was the day I nursed my enormous hangover.
Now Friday means nothing as it has been officially grouped in with Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, etc.
I get to wake up early, not eat until everybody else eats and have absolutely no time to rest.
Press repeat for Saturday and Sunday.
Oh the joys of mommy hood!
Mornings used to consist of hot showers, fresh coffee and a long commute to work with some Dean Blundell in the background.
Now they consist of diaper changes, cold coffee, feedings and tantrums.
My mornings also happen to include slobbery kisses and morning cuddles.
You know what, I wouldn’t have it any other way, tantrums and all!
My mom always told me that I need to take responsibility for my actions.
I always brushed her comments under the rug but now that I’m raising little humans I realize that I need to take responsibility before there are actions or it’ll bite me in the butt.
Having a two year old can make you realize you do and say things that you don’t even notice.
For example, I use the word stupid A LOT.
I never noticed that until one day Nate turned to me in frustration and said “ima you’re stupid”.
As the blood rushed to my head I had a flashback of a bunch of times that I used that word.
In lieu of that incident I have vowed to take responsibility for my behaviour before I do anything as I have two sweet little fellas hanging on my every word and action.