Van Gogh and Friends.

Ok, so I know that a two year old's intention is to discover her world.
I know that she does not mean to defy, irritate and manipulate me.
That in fact those are adult actions and emotions that she does not have the capacity for (yet.)

I also know that it is her developmental right to test boundaries and that
her most earnest desire is to please me and show me her skills.

So if I know all of this - why is my blood pressure raised?

I remember being confused as a kid when I got into trouble for something I had done so innocently.
My clearest memory of this was when I hung my mum's beloved necklace between two points to make a swing.
When it snapped and the beads scattered far and wide - some rolling into the heating vent, my initial reaction was disappointment that my pretty swing didn't work.
I ran off to report my failed experiment.
It simply didn't occur to me that the necklace was not a good choice.

My parents barraged me with questions.
Why would I do something so thoughtless?
Why would I break something on purpose?
What was I thinking?

I was thinking that I could make a swing with rope but this would be so much cuter.
I had no understanding of chain strength to weight ratio at age six.
I was so shocked at their response that I carry the weight of their disappointment with me now - decades later.

So with all of that understanding and knowledge why am I still fuming that the two year old has drawn all over the walls?
It's substantial and not even in a pretty color or design.
If you're going to vandalize my walls at least make it worth looking at.
I know she's two but she has done some much better art work.

I give myself a time out - to calm down.
Remind her sweetly that we draw on paper and give her a scrub sponge to undo her work.
I know I am being a good parent but really it would be so much more satisfying to tantrum.

Oh and Yes - that is the aforementioned SOUP!

Goop!

I have evangelical tendencies. This time they are justified.
I have discovered Goop.
All Good Goop that is.
Every house should have a jar.

It heals diaper rash overnight. It soothes bites, cuts and rashes.
It smells good.
When the seven year old split her head open Goop was applied.
She healed up in no time.

But wait - there's more!
(This is like a commercial or something.)
The makers of Goop make the world's BEST Lip Balm.
They also make a spray that soothes even the worst breast feeders neck and you KNOW how nasty that is.
If you don't actually KNOW you can surely imagine.

Then there's the sunblock....

Why do I love this company?

Their products are organic and petroleum free.
It feels really good to apply these products to your kids precious skin.
It feels really good to apply them to MY skin.

I hope you'll check out their website.
They are offering a hefty 25% off all orders thru May.

If you don't want to take my word for it - Jordan Romero, the youngest person ever to climb Everest had a tub of Goop with him!

Curious? Go here.

Finding Time.

Parenting has changed many, many things about me.
One of them is a love of the early hours.

I should clarify.
I do not love getting up early with my kids. I think it is a cruel twist of fate that babies and kids wake as early as 5.30am.
I do not like being woken every day in life about an hour earlier than I would like.

What I love is the new window of free time I have discovered in the early hours.
The seven year old gets on the school bus at 7.30am.
The two year old stays home with the husband until I get back.

I had a lightbulb moment that I didn't have to get back right away.
Here, in this little window of time, is my early morning nirvana.
Coffee shops are open, food markets are open, drug stores are open.
They are also relatively empty.

It is my new favorite time of the day.
Hmmm - my other favorite time is just after the kids are in bed - what does that say about me as a parent?!

If you are a parent you will already know the joy of doing the food shop alone. Try doing it when there are only about five other people in the store. Bliss.
Browsing through the products with a cup of delicious coffee sets me up for a day with a two year old.

The weather is often enchanting at this time of day - not too hot but warm and still.
Birds are chirping, roads are quiet - it really is a glorious time.
I have sat in the park and just relished the quiet.
I have read my email in peace and had time to reply.
I have shopped, browsed and drunk a full cup of coffee while it is hot.

It made me realize that this is what parenting is about.
Finding the moments to re-charge.
Taking time where you can.
Even if it is at 7.30am.

Three Down...

The kids are sick. I am sick.
It's a big sick mess.
I hope to blog later this week but for now I am just keeping my head above water.
Thought you might be wondering......

Melting Down.

Do you remember how the world ended on a daily basis when you were a kid?
Emotionally I mean.
Your mom says you can't wear your new dress to school - waaaaaaaaaaaah!

You can't find your favorite toy - waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Your mermaid melted - wait? what?

The seven year old is into beeswax.
She sculpts with it. It's her thing.
She's good at it.

She makes mermaids. Her friends want one. She has 'orders' and a wait list.
She loves that aspect especially.

I am quite proud. It's very sweet to see your kid so happy and filled with self pride.
She's industrious with her orders which keeps her busy and quiet.
(Those might be the two best words a parent can hear.)

That is until she takes the mermaid to bed and it melts in her hand.
I awoke at 6.40am to a VERY distressed seven year old and a VERY melted mermaid.

I think I handled it well bearing in mind I had told her she couldn't take a mermaid to bed because it would melt. That's pretty clear right?
We had even put it in a safe place with it's own little mermaid blanket but someone got up after I left the room and did what she was specifically asked not to do.
So you could say that she learned the consequences of her actions.
Which would satisfy me as a punishment except that it melted all over her nightie and bedding.

So, there she is breaking her heart and despite the fact that I am looking at a morning of extra laundry, I find myself comforting my instruction ignoring seven year old.
She was so upset - I had to make undeliverable promises just so we could catch the school bus.
So on top of the laundry I now have to re-make a mermaid.

Beeswax mermaids - not my best skill.
How did we go from really happy, proud kid to ruined bedding and beeswax challenged mom?
This parenting thing - crazy.

What The.....

The two year old has been swearing. Like a sailor.
It's not intentional of course but I'm not sure that matters when you are in the supermarket or even better - the library.

She has had what I like to call a language explosion.
At last count she regaled us with an eight word sentence.
(None of which were swear words.)
That's genius if you're two!
The fact that only I might understand five of them is something I'm going to ignore.

The problem has come with the word - truck.
She can't quite manage the tr sound so she has substituted it.
You all know where this is going....

Maybe it would not be a big problem if she didn't see trucks EVERY where we go and have a burning desire to point at them and scream out their name.
She also does this for school buses and bikes but they don't present the same difficulties.

It's always entertaining to be judged by some complete stranger because your child is jumping up and down screaming the
F-word. Only other parents seem to get what she is doing but even they look at me with disdain - especially if they have an older child with them.
I get it.
It's not cool.

What can I do about it?

We tried washing her mouth out with soap - she didn't seem to mind.
I have told her she is mispronouncing the word and should try harder or stop being excited at the site of trucks until she can roll that tr sound off her tongue. She looked at me oddly.
I have warned her that she will not be getting any more ice-cream unless she stops.
She said, "ICE CREAM! ICE CREAM!"

I don't think she's taking me seriously.

I have resorted to saying very loudly - "Oh yes darling TRuck!"
after each expletive has rolled of her sweet and cute two your old tongue - in the vain hope that old people will stop looking at me as if I have sat down with the specific intention of teaching my child to swear.

I should mention that the glee on the seven year olds face each time this word is uttered by her sister is immeasurable.
She has reached the age where the knowledge of naughty words is the trump card on the playground.
She knows this is the naughty word to top all naughty words (OK there is at least one more that's worse but we haven't discovered it yet) and now she can tell her friends that her baby sister said it. Priceless.

I'm thinking of getting her a t-shirt that says "She means TRuck." but I think I may just draw attention to the problem.
As with all things parent related this too shall pass so I'll just wait it out - red faced and flustered.

The Babies.

I went to see The Babies movie last night.
I am about to get all Roger and Ebert on you.

Firstly, it was me and every other mom from a twenty mile radius. I assume dads were home baby sitting.
There was also a 3:1 ratio of pregnant woman.

It is cute - very cute.
It is funny - very funny.

It is also achingly beautiful, scary, shocking, gut churning and frustrating.
I actually physically reached for the screen on more that one occasion in an attempt to pick up a baby.
(It is not in 3D - so I looked especially odd.)

I had read a lot about this movie and what the intention behind it was and what it teaches us.
I have read how it should make us westerners feel embarrassed at our riches.
How it highlights the futility of our parenting styles.

I didn't get that from it.
Sure, the babies in Namibia appeared to be the happiest.
But you can never trust editors - look at what they are doing to Lindsay Lohan - she can't be drunk EVERY night.
OK maybe not a good example but you get my drift.

What I got from it was this;

That children want love and attention - but not too much.
That they want things to play with but a rock can be just as appealing as a ball.
They will learn to rollover, crawl and walk whether you are there to witness it or not,
and that they will hit, bite and tease each other no matter how many times you ask them to play gently with each other.

The developmental stages will occur whether you take classes or not.
They will learn from each other - or a goat - whichever is nearest.

It did seem that the most passive or laid back moms had the most productive and jolly babies.
I am going to take a leaf out of their books.
I am going to park the helicopter for a while and let my children discover the world by themselves.
I will make sure that they are safe but I am going to let them out into the garden to ponder. (A favorite pastime of Einstein apparently.)

As we suspected all along but have always felt too guilty to implement - we can relax a little.
Although I'm not condoning the motorcycle rides......

Get Out!

Have you ever noticed that when you leave your children with a sitter they suddenly seem much smaller and younger?
I first left the seven year old with a babysitter when she was six weeks old.
The sitter was a trusted friend and I needed a break.

We had no relatives to come and stay when we came home from the hospital.
The husband had to go back to work after a week at home.
I was alone with a 7 day old baby and a post-partum body.
It was tough.
At the time I felt very sorry for myself.

However, in some ways it was a gift.
I had to get babysitters.
It was a painful, tear filled necessity.
Seven years later, I usually walk out the door with no difficulty.
It got hard again when the two year old was a baby but I am even at ease leaving her - most of the time.

I have learned that I am a better mom, wife, friend - human being, if I spent time away from my children.
Of course, it doesn't come guilt free.
Waving goodbye to my girls who suddenly look like babies again may never be something I am fully comfortable with but I can do it.

Friends have told me they think I'm lucky that I get to go out so much.
(Is once every 2-3 weeks much?)
I say, luck has nothing to do with it.

As with everything in life - I worked for it - I earned it.
I made myself do it because I knew I would get depressed if I didn't.
I was cruel to be kind - to myself.

How do my kids feel about it?
The seven year old loves to have sitters. I let her meet them first - we don't go ahead with anyone she doesn't click with.
I put the two year old down to sleep before I go out so she doesn't even know I'm gone.
In two years - she has never woken up to a sitter.
We have just begun to have her spend awake time with sitters so I'm not tied to a 7.30 pm departure.

Being a full time mom can be isolating, monotonous and lonely.
Going out alone can be completely rejuvenating.

So, call your sitter and take yourself out this weekend.
Just don't look back!

Expectations.

I have known for a very long time that expectations are dangerous.
Never more so than on Mother's Day.

The media doesn't help.
How may ads did you see in magazines, on TV, in stores - telling you what you wanted for Mother's Day?

Did you find your expectations expanded from little to enormous?
Diamonds, spa's and weekends at four star hotels.
Don't get me wrong - those are all lovely things that I would enjoy (very much) but how realistic are the for the average family budget?
Also why do flowers cost twice as much on Mother's Day?
With our heads filled with media driven expectations there's really only one inevitable outcome - disappointment.

Also, when did Mother's Day become about mothers getting away from their children?
Having some time off or to themselves may be what mommies really want but a weekend at the spa with the girls seems quite a leap.

Isn't the whole point that the kids make you breakfast in bed, no matter how inedible it is.
Aren't we supposed to delight in homemade gifts filled with love and too much glue?

I do think dad's should try to do one thing to spoil mom whether that's with a gift or a break from routine but it shouldn't have to be bank breaking.

Breakfast in bed, a picnic, a bouquet made from tissue paper and pipe cleaners, a hand made card.
These things have been delighting moms for decades.
I think they would continue to delight if we didn't have a Tiffany bracelet being dangled (unrealistically and unattainably) in front of us.

I say let's re-claim Mother's Day for a simple celebration of our love of our family.
Let's have our spa days when we need them and treat ourselves to pretty, sparkly things when the budget allows.

Let's lower the expectations and increase the delight.
Who's with me?

Getting Fancy.

Once a year I get to go to a movie premiere. I count down to it for about 364 days.
Sad, I know but us stay at home mommies have to take it where we can.

My children are still young enough that they think it's fun to see mummy get all dressed up and don't pout that they are not going too. It's very sweet to see the wonder in their eyes when I put on my dress and shed my sweat pant wearing, hair in a ponytail, always in the kitchen persona.

As I may have mentioned before, we don't have family nearby (or even on the same continent) so we also have annual baby sitting drama. This year I have press ganged my friend into taking the kids for a sleep over.
This guarantees that everyone (with the possible exception of my friend) is excited about our plans.

I find myself wistful on two counts.

I remember my aunt, who I stayed with often as a child, getting dressed to go to a dinner dance every Saturday night.
My nana lived in the same house so she and I would sit and watch as my aunt applied mascara, fixed her beehive and donned a maxi gown. (It was the 70's)
It was the stuff a little girl dreams about. If I was very quiet she would let me have a smear of lipstick. I can still taste it.
It's nice to be on the other side of that now.

However, today as I get ready to go out I am juggling lunch, diapers and over-night bag packing.
Having a glass of wine, with loud music in the background while getting ready was one of my favorite things when I was a twenty something.
I miss being a twenty something.

My favorite part of the whole thing is that as tomorrow is Mother's Day - I will be sleeping off the champagne when the husband goes to pick up the kids.
Happy Mother's Day to me!

Potty Talk.

Well we started two off with a bang!
It all started when the two year strolled passed her sisters bathroom.
Her sister happened to be using the bathroom at that moment.

"ME DO IT!" was how she summoned me.

"Me go potty" she clarified.

I was about to begin explaining that we wouldn't be starting potty training half an hour before bedtime but as she had removed most of her clothes before I got to the fourth word - I decided that I better get the potty.

Ahhh, potty training. Fun for all concerned.
The accidents. The gallons of carpet cleaner. The mad dash to find a bathroom at the most inopportune moments.
I have missed it.

I was under the misconception that the timing of potty training was my decision.
I am the parent after all.
I had forgotten to account for the fact that my second child is just that, a second child.
She's also a Taurus and let's not forget that she's two.

We spent the next hour popping on and off the potty, peering into the potty, peering in the mirror at our nether regions (that was a Royal 'our' - I did not actually participate in the peering) sitting on the potty, moving the potty between rooms and shredding toilet paper.

Despite the multiple declarations to the contrary there was no actual peeing in the potty.
There was however hysteria when I suggested re-diapering and jammies.

After much tantruming I was able to establish that the potty was required in the crib and that diapers would no longer be worn.

Oh good grief.

Once the two year old was finally in bed - diapered and without a potty - thank you very much.
I hid the potty.
I have also issued a family edict that there is to be no use of the toilet in view of the two year old.
That should buy me a few days right?

TWO!

The baby is TWO!

Do I have to stop calling her the baby?

I will be making the cupcakes for her party at 7 am.
I would never have imagined I would be putting cupcakes and 7 am in the same sentence.

In honor of Cinco de Mayo her party will involve Mariachi (a CD not a live band.)
In honor of her British heritage we will play pass the parcel (updated to include a prize for each child.)
In honor of her love of sugar there will be cake with strawberry cream cheese icing (yum!)

At night the husband and I will continue our tradition of having champagne while watching video from the birth.

I will be back with a regular post tomorrow.

Keeping Mum.

If you've been paying attention - you already know that I believe in telling the truth when it comes to parenting.
Most of the time.

I am willing to limit the disclosure when I see the deer in the headlights look.
When a new parent is hopelessly sleep deprived, telling a little lie is the right thing to do.

Yesterday we went for a family bike ride. We have been trying to ride more and drive less.
It was a really warm evening so we rode to the ice cream shop.

Sitting outside the ice cream shop were brand new parents.
Their 17 day old baby cooing away in her stroller.
Their pride and delight was palpable.

The baby started to fuss so her dad picked her up and headed our way.
We chatted - I asked about the baby. So sweet and soooo little.

"Are you getting any sleep?" I ask.

"Oh yes - loads" he enthuses.
"She's so great, she sleeps through the night, we are so happy - she's just a great sleeper and we're just not going to have sleep deprivation!"

What do I do?

She's 17 days old. By my calculations they have about 10 days until the 'new' newborn sleep pattern wears off.
Do I warn him?

I know that it's possible that this baby will sleep ten hours a night until she's sixteen but it's not likely.

Do I let him stay in his little bubble or is it kinder to warn him?
I can do it gently - I don't want to scare him but I feel he should know so he can make the most of this little honeymoon.

In the end I decide to mind my own business.
Therapy dollars paying off there.

I choose to enjoy my ice cream and the sun on my skin and let them have their own experience as it comes.
If I keep this up I may need a new blog premise.