Me, Myself And I

Today, like most Saturday’s, Adam took Nate to soccer as I put Benny down for his nap.
I should realistically be napping and trying to catch up on all of the lost sleep through the week but I find myself restless.
Instead I make myself another cup of coffee and enjoy it in the company of me, myself and I.
After being married for almost four years and having two young children I find that catching up on sleep is not necessarily what I need.
What I need is a pause in my week.
A time where I can reflect upon what has happened and not to think of what is to come.
I take the time to remind myself to be thankful for all of the blessings in my life and to remind myself not to take these blessings for granted.
I think about a little girl named Clover that lives far away, that I have never met in person yet I feel connected to in spirit.
She is a baby warrior who is fighting the battle of a lifetime.
I take a moment to pray for her and her family.
For her mother Keeley who is going through something that nobody can possibly understand unless they have experienced it for themselves.
I remind myself that broken glasses, stained shirts and tantrums are all things that should be taken lightly as there are so many bigger things happening in this world.
I allow myself a moment to feel deep sadness and pain at the idea that there are things in this world that are completely out of our control.
Then I remember that there are things that we can control.
We can control our temper when our kids act up.
We can allow ourselves to lose control and be supremely affactionate and loving.
We can control the amount of time that we spend worrying about trivial things and apply that time to the important people in our lives.
Once that is all done I get back to the groove of things until the week comes full circle and I am back in my comfy bed with my cup of joe.

Advertisements

Our Infant Toys are a Bust

I’ve made an executive decision to give away all of the infant toys that we have in the house as Benny is interested in everything but his toys.
Here is a list of things that Benny loves:

The remote control

He can find it no matter where I hide it.
It can be on the couch, the side table, even the kitchen table and he will find it!
He learned how to cruise because he wanted to get to the remote as it was taunting him by hanging out innocently on the couch.

My Fake Birkenstocks

Let me begin by saying that this kid gives me a run for my money when it’s time to eat food but as soon as he sees my Birks he starts salivating.
I don’t know if it’s because I am a shoe addict and he caught the addiction in utero or if there is simply something appetizing about the light grey suede straps.
Whatever it is, it drives me up the wall!
He literally follows me around in anticipation for me to take them off for him to go to town with them!

The Ancient Yet Still Existant Hand Held Home Phone

Here is something that you need to know about me.
I have a paralyzing fear of cell phone and microwave radiation.
Although radiation may have nothing to do with either of these things, I have convinced myself that they do and that it is life-threatening (cue raised the eyebrows).
For that reason we still have a home line (cue oohs and ahhs at the ownership of this ancient communication device).
Benny loves the house phone.
He particularly loves to throw it around like a ball.
I can be on the phone and he crawls up to me with the intention of taking it from me.
I am amazed at how well devised his plan of action is at such a young age.
He is actually obsessed with this phone.

So there you have it.
Since Nate is a toddler and Benny was born with a remote control/shoe/home phone fetish our infant toys are now obsolete.

Any takers?

Taboo Baby Talk

If there is any advice I could give a new parent it is this:
Don’t EVER discuss your child’s good sleeping habits.
Why, you ask?
It is because the second you divulge that kind of information your child ceases to sleep at all!
Call it the curse of the mommy/daddy gab.
It happens to the best of us.
You sit at the hottest family friendly restaurant in town with your crew of infants, toddlers and parents.
You start off with some adult conversation but somehow get sidetracked into the kiddie talk corner.
Here comes the dreaded question: “How are you sleeping?”
Translation: “How is the baby sleeping?”
Due to what I like to call “the haze” you respond thoughtlessly:
“Last night we slept through the night!”
Que the “oohs”, “ahhs” and daggers.
After a lite lunch (too lite but that baby fat ain’t so phat!) you make your way home for the baby’s nap.
On the way home you do everything to ensure that that baby does NOT fall asleep because transferring them is naptime suicide.
You get home, prepare a bottle, change that stinky diaper, put on some comfy bed gear, feed them and put them down for that two hours of uninterrupted you time.
You walk out feeling lite as a feather.
Then you hear it: “WAHHHH, WAHHH, WAHHH, NAHHH, GAHHH…..”
Oh S**T!!!
What is going on?!?
Yep, its the curse.
Murphy’s Law guarentees that once you utter the words “good sleep” in relation to your children, you will NOT be sleeping again for awhile.
You inevitabley give in to the cries and take them out to play.
Somewhere in the back of your mind you hope that this will lead to a full nights rest but rest assured that that my friends will not be happening for you.
So suck it up, drink it up (coffee that is) and wait it out.
This will teach you not to talk about taboo things, like your baby’s great sleep habits.

The Lunch Mission

The other day I took it upon myself to go to lunch with one of my best friends Ivy and both kids. In hindsight this was obviously a bad decision but I try to be optimistic whilst in the moment.
We hit up one of my favorite spots, Lady Marmalade.
It’s a small, quaint and very eclectic restaurant.
Furnished with mismatched chairs and tables, showcasing local artists work on the walls (for sale, of course).
They have by far the BEST eggs Benedict in town and their food in general is fresh, locally grown and delectable.
We get in and Ivy helps me get the kids out of their thick layers and settled into their seats.
I situate myself between both kids and am about to glance at the menu.
Suddenly Ben grabs the menu and throws it on the floor, Nate starts demanding apple juice and the lunch begins to come undone.

Me: Nate do you want a sandwich or rice with chicken?
Nate: SANDWICH!

Me: Can I please have the club sandwich for him (pointing at Nate) and the scrambled eggs with a side of brown bread for him (pointing at Ben).
Server: Anything for you? (with a look of horror knowing that this is about to get messy)
Me: I need a few minutes, thanks (with a look of horror knowing that it’s about to get messy)

Ivy chimes in: Apple juice please!

Nate has the biggest smile, Ben is exploring the room with a big grin and we decide on what we’ll eat.

So far so goodish.

This is where the fun begins.

Lunch arrives and Ben is loving the bread while Nate is spitting out his sandwich.

Me: Take a bite Nati!
Nate: No tomatoes!
Me: Fine! (I remove all signs of the tomato)
Me: Okay can you take a bite now?
Nate: No! It’s yucky!

On a side note, this is one of the best Club Sandwiches in town!

This battle goes on for a bit when I realize that Ben needs more food.
To my surprise he eats some egg and continues gnawing on the bread.

Nate is now fidgety and is demanding Bens food.
OF COURSE HE IS!

At this point I am livid annoyed!

I can’t even remember what it is that I’m eating and my blood pressure is through the roof.

I decide to take a pic of the food, knowing that I’ll be venting about this later, and the result is the photo heading of this post (while I try and take the pic, Ben throws his plate with the eggs on the floor. I think he’s trying to tell me something)

Much like that lunch the photo is blurry and out of focus.

Modern Sisterhood

Historically speaking, my friends have essentially been family members to me. They have watched me grow up, break down, laugh hysterically and cry just as hysterically. They have been my partners in crime and my truest confidents.
As my life evolved, like the dinosaurs, some of those friends didn’t make it in my journey.
Marriage and definitely kids have a way of changing relationships that you think will last forever.
The friends that are still in my life are, for the most part, the ones that are involved in my children’s lives in one way or another.
They are the ones that came to see me when I was not so interesting to be around.
The ones that understood my absence and relished in my irregular appearances.
The ones that get it when I’m not being social.
They are also the ones that hold a massive part of my heart.
The ones that I will do anything for at the drop of a dime.
The ones that are always remembered for their compassion, involvement, love and efforts.
The ones that my kids call doda, tsautsia and auntie.
They are my truest sisters and for that I know that my family and I are blessed to have them.
Love you bitches! (You know who you are)

From Sunshine to Sour Grapes

Being a parent is such a manic experience.
I go from being exhausted to being fully awake within seconds; of course this is usually due to some explosive behaviour from one of my kids.
I go from being sublimely happy to being gloomily mellow; this on account of hormones, sudden life changes, abnormal sleep patterns and the eating habits that replicate my kids’ (let’s face it, I am officially the kiddie leftover garbage can).
The kids will go from doing something truly extraordinary, like singing the lyrics to a song that I haven’t even gotten yet, to vomiting all over me in extraordinary fashion.
With all of these mood/life fluctuations I am astounded that I have managed to be dressed and somewhat composed on a daily basis.