New Year, New Leaf.

Hello Friends,

Well the holidays flew right by for our little family, as I'm sure they did for many of you! After a whirlwind of turkey and presents and family and friends and santa and snowmen and skating and christmas baking, I find myself plopped comfortably on the couch listening to K naptime negotiate another story with D. I must say, a whole new level of toddler has emerged out of this year's Christmas season. A negotiating, back-talking, smug, certain, self-confident, independent little man has replaced the cheeky, soft spoken, dependent little 1 1/2 year old who lived with us in the beginning of 

December.

But, to be honest, I'm surprisingly okay with this. In fact, I'm excited! K is really becoming his own little person. A little person who is able to articulate his likes and dislikes, take control of his playtime and most importantly tell us how important we are to him (especially at 7am when I'm trying to squeeze in another 1/2hr of much needed "beauty rest") "mum up mum come!". It is in these moments that I'm reminded that there is nothing more "motivating" than a toddler with an agenda. 

K does not take "no" for an answer, and as much as I may regret saying this in the minutes and months and years to come, I wouldn't want it any other way! K has a perspective, and even though it sometimes differs from mine (and any other sane human being on the planet), it is his and that deserves respect. 

That being said, I must also add that it is a powerful moment when, as a parent, you realize the respect you have for your child. Not basic human respect (obviously that has always been there), but respect for his thinking, for his ideas, for his goals, for his individuality. Over the last couple weeks it has dawned on me that our tiny human, has thoughts and feelings that are seperate from ours and it has filled me with pride to see them emerge.

Now, I'm not saying that we don't have rules and we don't enforce our "no" answers, we most definitely do. It's just that we also try to acknowledge his protest and validate our little man's perspective with compromise. However, if all else fails, which it often does, we're not above throwing in a bit [read: a lot] of distraction and parental manipulation. Ya gotta do what ya gotta do. I mean, there's only so many stories you can read at naptime, before it becomes bedtime!

Needless to say, K has grown and changed a whole lot throughout 2014 and I must say, that I too, feel like I've done a lot of growing and changing as a mum. While I still sometimes feel like I'm completely winging this mummyhood thing, I'm happy to report that most of the time I feel like I've got it together. 

So what does one do when they feel like they've got it all together? 

Change it up of course! 

By adding a new leaf, to the good ole' family tree.

Happy New Years everyone, I know 2015 will be one exciting year for us!

Until next year friends, 

-A

P.S I can't wait to hear K's explanation of how new leaves grow in the winter. 

Baby R- Coming June 2015

What does 21 Months (Almost Two) Look Like?

Hello Friends,

Today I realized that my baby turned 21 months old. Twenty-one months? How did that happen?! After the inital shock of having an almost 2 year old wore off, I also realized, that I should probably stop giving his age in months. It's confusing. So from now on, "K will be two in March".

So what does having a 21 month old... uh I mean an "almost two year old", look like?

Well that, my friends, depends on a whole whack of factors.

1. What time of the day is it? 

If it is immediately preceding a meal, it might look like this...

Unless that meal is going to be McDonalds ("Don's) or pizza, then it likely looks like this...

If it is immediately following a meal, it may look like this...

Unless you mentioned naptime, then it's probably like this...

2. Who's around?

If it's just me and K, it could look like this...

Or this...

Or this...

If his papa is in the house, it most likely looks like this...

If Daddy's here it usually looks something like this...

Or this...

3. What is he doing?

Something he's not usually supposed/allowed to do (like standing on a chair), then it looks like this...

Something I would like him to do...

Something he wants me to let him do...

4. How important is it that I capture the moment?

Not very important, it tends to look like this...

Or this...

More important (we could use it for the Christmas cards...), tends to look more like this...

Ah, maybe next year!

So as you can see, having an almost two year old can look like a bunch of different things. As a stay at home mum, I get the "pleasure" of seeing almost all of these (often multiple times a day). While some of his looks make me want to scream and rip my hair out, I also get to exclusive access to the ones that would make any heart melt so quickly that all those other ones just disappear from memory. Needless to say, I am loving being at home with my almost two year old (and his quirkly little personality). 

Until next time my friends, 

-A

Life and Basketball

Hi Friends,

I'm so sorry that it's been 2 whole months since my last post. Fall 2014 has been jam-packed with fun and adventure, and sadly my writing took a backseat. But I'm back and ready to dive back in. So here we go.

Today I would like to talk about Life and Basketball (yes, this was meant to conjure up happy, nostalgic memories of the 2000 hit Love and Basketball, probably my most favourite movie of all time, but I digress). In October, I made the decision to get involved with our local intra-city, basketball association. As a stay at home mum for just over a year and a half, I was starting to feel like I was losing myself a bit in my full-time role as mummy. After exploring a number of volunteer opportunities, I (not surprisingly) found myself drawn to this particular basketball association.

For anyone that knows me, you will know that basketball played an integral role in my teenage and young adult life (beyond being a heart healthy activity). For me, it promoted healthy relationships (when I found myself running with some rough crowds), it taught goal development (when life's obstacles seemed too tough to surmount), and self control (when my attitude was rearing it's ugly head) and encouraged dreams (when my young mind felt muted). I have nothing but utmost respect for my fellow players, coaches and referees, all of whom helped direct me down the path I am on today (which is a pretty darn good one).

I was excited to again be a part of the sport which had given me so much over the years. After joining the executive, I was given the opportunity to co-coach two teams. The first being a group of 5-7 year olds, the second a team of 14-18 year old ladies. While I could anticipate the challenges a large group of little kids with basketballs could bring, I was in no way prepared for the challenges that would come with the teenage girls. After all, I was a teenage girl not that long ago, so I would totally "get" them, right?

Right?!

Wrong.

I was a 14 years old, 14 years ago, and in teenager-land, that makes me one of the furthest things from a teenager.  

I might as well have walked into that gym with a walker.

However, after the inital shock of old age wore off, I realized that I was staring straight at myself (or 8 of me) 14 years ago, and I began to think. If I could go back and talk to myself 14 years ago, what would I want to say? Or better yet, what would 14 year old me want to hear?

It was time to reflect. What I loved so much about playing basketball, was that it allowed me to have a hint of control over one aspect of the chaos that is teenage life. With sex, drugs and rock n' roll hiding around every corner, the basketball court was a place of predictability and stability. It was a rock for me. My coaches didn't try to be my best friends, and they didn't try to be my parents. They treated me like an colleague, a grown up, they let me make decisions and supported me through the outcomes, be they sucessess or consequences. Most of all they never hesitated to convey how much they believed in me, not just as an athlete, or player, but as an individual capable of doing great things in life. They didn't always do this by holding my hand through tough times, or patting me on the back when I did good, but through challenging me to be better, to be my best.

I could never thank these men and women enough, and they will never know how much their presence in my life impacted me. These people were all volunteers and didn't have to be there for a group of (sometimes obnoxious) teenagers, but they were, every week, for the better part of many years.

Now the tables have turned, and I find myself standing in their shoes (mighty big shoes to fill). Do I feel a bit like an imposter? Of course. Do I worry that I will say or do the wrong thing, and send these girls down a path of chaos and destruction? Every time I enter the gym.

So I've been challenging myself to step back and appreciate that by simply showing up, I'm giving these girls a great opportunity to be in control of that small piece of their worlds. Likewise, they are giving me an opportunity to reclaim a bit of myself that has been tucked away under my mum jeans.

And I'm cool with that (for the record, that is NOT what the kids are saying these days).

Until next time friends,

- A

Taking a break from my Masters to shoot some hoops! Circa 2012

Wednesday Confessional: 7 Things You Don't Know About This Photo

Hi Friends,

After many lengthy discussion about the misrepresentation/embellishment of life (and more specifically parenting) on Facebook by mums and dads, I've decided to start a Wednesday Confessional: 7 Things You Don't Know About This Photo.

I'm all for transparency when it comes to real life. I mean, I'd hate to think someone decides to give parenting a try based on a near flawless photo I've posted of myself nailing mummyhood.

So here goes nothing (and everything).

Taking a snack break on the bench #victoriapark #beautifulfallday

1. I used an Instagram Filter

Ok, Ok, this one is pretty obvious (to most). But! I'm coming clean just in case some people think that Mummyhood gives you and your children a lovely orange-yellow glow. 

2. It took nine takes to get us both looking this fabulous 

No, my son doesn't look directly into the camera with his coy little smirk on-demand. In fact, I believe I just caught him mid-sentence (during an angry protest), so the smirky smile is definitely a lie. I may have also exclaimed "K look! There's daddy!" to get him to look in the right direction. 

3. He was upset that I made him take a break from the playground to have a snack

K didn't want to have a snack, like my post may have implied. I bribed him over with the promise of Goldfish, and then when we got to the bench, I pulled an apple slices switch-a-roo (again, he was not impressed). He immediately threw the apples in the dirt and given the urban locale of the park, they were a write-off... so I gave him the Goldfish. 

4. He slid off the bench in protest 6 times

If I would've taken a picture of his back, you would see the red marks to prove it. This is also why his hat is pushed up all cute-like on the top of his head. 

5. It was way too hot that day to be dressed in our fall attire

I put my jacket back on and did up K's long sleeved shirt to give the illusion that it was a beautiful fall day. In reality, it was 29 degrees and we were so sweaty. The only reason K still had that shirt on is because I forgot the sunscreen and didn't want his arms to burn (bonus mum points...right?)

6. I was feeling inadequate as a mum that day

K had watched 2 hours of cartoons that afternoon while I attempted to fold the laundry I had washed days earlier. We went to the park for 1/2 hr in the late afternoon so I could feel a little less guilty about how bored he probably was. I originally wanted to take the picture to send to D to suggest our afternoon was soo fun and filled with fresh-air that there was no way I could've gotten the laundry done.

7. I was about to realize that I was doing just fine

While I was fiddling with my phone trying to select the right instagram filter, K gave me an unprompted hug and kiss then slid off the bench, marched over to a cute little three year old and offered to share his Goldfish with her. She accepted and they spent the next 15 min following each other around on the playground. Her mum complimented me on how polite K was. This mummy was a bit puffed with pride.

So there you have it. The picture I posted, while it may have presented us in our best light, represented the day's events, both frustrating and fabulous. My life as a mummy may not be as orange-yellow and smiley as this picture (and others I post) may suggest, but it is filled with a million moments both good and bad that I wouldn't trade for the world.

Until next time my friends!

-A

"I know a girl who just had a baby.."

Hi Friends,

Anyone who has ever had a baby can most likely relate to the following comment:

"I know a girl who just had a baby. You guys should hang out, you can be 'Mum Friends'"

While people make these comments with the best of intentions, I can't help but feel a little put off by the implication that comes along with them. Let's just suppose I turn the tables and say "Hey _____, I know a girl. She has a job. You guys should hang out, you can be 'Work Friends'". Nevermind that her idea of a good time is a $400 mani/pedi followed by a gluten-free, vegan, low-cal no-carb $35 salad, and yours is checking out the ball game from the nose bleeds and grabbing a $4 slice of greasy stadium pizza. You both work, therefore you will make great friends.

That being said, as a (stay-at-home) mum, I feel it is important to have friends who are mums, because there are some facets of mummyhood that only those on the "inside" can understand and/or sympathize with. However, these friends would ideally be people who you would want to hang out with regardless of their mum status. A friend who happens to be a mum vs. a Mum Friend.

I spend a good chunk of the day strolling the streets and frequenting local parks, libraries and early years centres and I will admit, I get excited when I see someone else pull up with a stroller. I'm always on the lookout for new and interesting people to chat with (and potentially make friends with). However, as the overwhelming chaos of new mummyhood settles down and K enters into toddlerhood, I've come to realize that simply giving birth to a tiny human does not make you and I automatic blood sisters (as society would have us believe).

I know it may come as bit of a shock to some, but all types of people reproduce. 

Gasp! I know, unbelieveable right?

So Shelley, over in HR, with the glasses and her strange cat obsession... yeah, she could have a baby in nine months. Will having a baby strapped into that stroller (vs. the 2 cats she usually pushes around) make her any less weird? Maybe... but maybe not.

However, as a mum, I also realize that making concessions comes with the territory. So, for example, when I'm at the early years centre and Shelley wheels up, I will smile and make small talk because K is having a fun time at the water table with Calico. The conversation is unlikely to continue when K loses interest and b-lines for the building blocks. However, next week when we see them again, I may ask her how Cal's doctor's appointment went and if they figured out where that rash came from (my guess, the cats). So I suppose one could say we would be 'Mum Friends'.

Friends, only because we are mums.

While this type of friendship is better than no adult interaction, it is unlikely to be a very fulfilling friendship. I would be unlikely to go to Shelley for advice or opinions on anything outside the realm of the early years centre. Shelley is not going to help me feel any less lonely during naptime on Tuesday afternoons, nor is she going to provide advice or perspective on my constant flip-flopping between wanting to stay at home with K and wanting to rejoin the workforce.

Like all friendships, a friendship with another mum takes time to develop. Sometimes you hit it off, sometimes not. The one advantage is that you have your tiny humans as an icebreaker, and also an easy escape if things aren't going well.

So while the gesture of introducing me to the newest mum on your block is much appreciated, just remember that we mums are people first, and like most people we become friends with people, not statuses.

Until next time my friends!

- A

K- "Hey mum, how about her (points to iPhone screen)? She looks pretty cool..."
Me- "She does seem pretty cool, doesn't she?  ;) haha"

Dirt vs. Toddler

Hi Friends,

Welcome to Fall!

It's official, it has arrived. Fall has always been my favourite season. As a little girl, I loved the back-to-school excitement that came with fall. As a teen, I loved the back-to-school shopping that came with back-to-school, that came with fall. As a university student, I loved the cool weather that somehow necessitated unecessary back-to-school shopping, that came with back-to-school, that came with fall. Now as a mum, I love... not having to slip and slop a bottle of sunscreen on my wriggly toddler every time we leave the house. Oh! and Pumpkin Spice Lattes (controversial colouring and all... since I'm pretty sure the insane amount of sugar will kill me first).

It's the simple things.

This fall, while enjoying the simple things, I'm making sure to not ignore the complex. I find the more time I spend with K, the more I realize how overwhelming the complex things in life can be for our little guys. Just this morning, after noticing that there were more food particles on the floor than on our breakfast plates, I busted out the broom and dustpan. K and I went to town for about 10 minutes, sweeping, scooping, spilling, sweeping, scooping, spilling, sweeping... Hey! Where are you going with the dustpan you little wiener? We weren't very efficient, but we had fun. When K had moved on to bigger and better things, I decided to grab the vacuum out of the closet and make an honest attempt at floor hygiene. I turned it on VRROOOMM, K took off. Nervously peeking out from around the corner I could see that while he was interested, he was clearly overwhelmed. Two things came to mind: 1) It does seem like an unnecessary amount of noise to accomplish the same task as the gentle swish, swish of the broom and 2) I really need to vacuum more.

While vacuums and brooms share a similar goal, there are times when one just makes more sense than the other. For instance, sweeping the shag carpet under our dining table just doesn't fly (don't even get D started on the fact that we have a shag carpet under our table). Recognizing that I had encountered a teachable moment,  I shut off the vacuum and coaxed K out of his room (I may or may not have bribed him with a cookie). First, I let him play with the cord, and then the little clips on the dirt canister, and then finally I showed him the on/off switch (he loves switches more than cookies). He flicked it on... VRROOOOMM but this time he didn't run away, he looked up at me and smiled (such a smug little grin). Then he proceeded to turn it off and on and off and on, fifty-two million times. I was proud of K and I was proud of me. I could've just continued vacuuming, leaving him to cower in the door way and/or retreat into the safety of his bedroom, or I could've shut er' down and called it day (surely I'll have some K-free time sometime in the next few months.. right?). But I didn't. I chose the teachable path (and maybe, just maybe, I'll get a 2 year old vacuuming prodigy out of it.. fingers crossed haha). 

But in all seriousness, the complex things in life can be noisy and fast, and sometimes just downright scary. While there may be slower, quieter, safer-seeming alternatives, it's our job as parents to equip our little guys with the skills needed to forge through the world with confidence. We need to not only recognize these complex moments, objects, relationships, and events, but demonstrate how to break them down into approachable, achievable pieces so that in life our little people will be able to do the same. Today may have just been the simple battle of dirt vs. man, but tomorrow it could be interacting with a bully on the playground, in ten years it could be navigating public transit alone, in twenty years it could negotiating world peace. The thing is, we don't know where life will take our kids. What we do know is that, while we won't be with them all the way, we are with them now. So while you enjoy those simple things, make sure to also make the most of those fleeting (teacheable) moments fellow mums (and dads).

Until next time my friends,

-A

K and the Shark

A Marriage of Firsts

Hi Friends,

Today is K's 18 month birthday. It's hard to believe that I've had an entire year and a half to hug and kiss and s(mother) him!

On Saturday, K, D and I were delighted to participate in the wedding of two of our closest friends. At just 18 months, K made his wedding party debut and, despite the chilly weather, marched that wedding aisle like a pro. Those 20ft of footsteps filled me with a mummy-pride that I can't even describe! Now I know why my mum always cheered and cried and clapped and celebrated so loudly at seemingly unimpressive milestones. As a mum, every "first" feels like an Olympic gold medal performance. While sometimes I feel that K hasn't changed one bit since we brought him home from the hospital, moments like this...

Walking down the aisle like a big boy!

make me realize that our teeny tiny little guy is, in fact, growing into such the little man.

As exciting as the afternoon was, with D as the MC (master of ceremonies, or "master corporal" as he preferred to be called) and myself a bridesmaid, Saturday also brought about another important first for our family, K's first sleepover sans parents!

With K at his Nana and Poppa's house and D and I on the dance floor, it's a toss up for who had the better Saturday evening. However, based on the number of adult beverages and late night tacos consumed on our end, I think it's safe to say that K probably had the better Sunday morning.

Good times with Great Friends (photo cred. J Fob)

With sleepover #1 in the books, I can't wait to get back into a date night routine with D. As parents to a toddler it has been too easy to let our alone-time fall by the wayside. However, watching the bride and groom's first dance on Saturday reminded me that it's important to have moments like that, moments when you're so captivated by your partner that everyone else in the room disappears. However, a disappearing audience is generally not advisable (nor possible) when your audience is 18 months old, which is why we will be prioritizing arrangements for some toddler-free time. 

It may have taken us a year and a half to get there, but D and I are finally ready to loosen up the parent reigns a little, tiny bit. I know some of my mum friends are probably shaking their heads right now thinking, my goodness how could you have gone so long without a night alone? But I would imagine that for every one of those mums, there's another one thinking, my goodness I can't even imagine leaving my little one overnight yet. So like all things mummy, I've done what feels right for me and D and K, and I would advise everyone else to do the same!

Until next time my friends,

-A

The best part of sleepovers without Mummy...
next day hugs! (photo cred. J Fob)

An Heir and a Spare

Hi Friends,

This week's announcement that Will and Kate are expecting Baby #2 left me feeling kind of blah. While I'm super excited to witness Kate, once again, transform into the classiest, most stylish baby bump-sporting mum-to-be, I can't help but feel a smidge of jealousy at the speed with which her and Will got that second baby "on board".

Now that K is 1 1/2, I've been getting a lot of "So when is the next one coming?", "Are you planning on another one soon?", "I think K wants a baby brother or sister, you should get on it.". I overheard an old man at Pizza Hut the other day straight up tell D "He's old enough now, I think it's about time for another." I sat in the booth a few tables away thinking to myself. "For real old man?"

Who says that?! Let alone to a stranger.

What frustrates me the most about these comments, is not that people are making them (although that is annoying)... but that we completely agree! Unfortunately yelling "We're trying!" into their faces is not an socially acceptable reply to their comments (although I think it should be).

Maybe it will come as a shock to some people that we have, indeed, thought about expanding our family. No, strike that, we have been trying to expand our family. We were lucky with K, we didn't have to try very hard at all. I think we took for granted the complexity that is baby-making. Now six months in, I'm beginning to resent the feelings my past self had regarding getting pregnant. I've come to the realization that it's not always the "walk in the park" my mother warned me about in high school. However, in her defense, with 4 under 5, I'm pretty sure she just had to think about being pregnant and it happened for her and my dad (we WERE conceived via telepathy, right guys?).

Anyway, I have a new appreciation for anyone who has struggled or is struggling with the baby-making process. While I can't speak for the male part of the equation, as the female player I am constantly managing different types of guilt. On top of the initial guilt I feel each month for not getting pregnant, I have had the added guilt for not staying pregnant, and most of all as a mum to a happy, healthy little boy, a special guilt for feeling guilty at all. Should I really being feeling anything but happy and thankful that I already have the most perfect little boy to hug and kiss and (s)mother?

One look at K and the answer is clear, definitely not. I'm not going to lie, the last few months have been hard and really took a toll on my identity as a sucessful stay at home mum (isn't stay-at-home mum synonmous with productive baby-making machine?). However, watching K grow and change into the sweetest little boy, I've come to realize that my success as an at-home mum is not tied to the number of babies in my care or my uterus having a no-vacancy sign. Succeeding as a mum (of any type) is about raising happy children and judging by the smile on my little man's face (as he eats his grilled cheese sandwich) I think I'm doing all right.

Baby-making can be tough. Please keep this in mind when contemplating a seemingly harmless comment, as you never really know where the other person is at. Trust me, your comment will never ever be the "ah ha" moment someone needs to start thinking about family planning... ever. That being said, for all those Nosey Nellies out there... with K we have our "heir", the "spare" will come along when he/she is meant to, but for now I'm wholeheartedly enjoying my 1 1/2 year old.

Until next time my friends,

-A

Mummy and "The Heir" visiting her and Daddy's Alma Mater

Til Death Do Us Part.

Hi Friends,

I've been on a crazy book reading bender the last few weeks. I'm not sure if Facebook has lowered my entertainment threshold significantly, or if they really were the "best books I've read in forever", but I just couldn't put them down! D attempted to keep up, but the 20 minutes he could dedicate to pleasure reading every night before bed, couldn't hold a candle to the 2hrs I got during K's naps, and the "just 3...0 more pages..." I could justify each night, that took me into the wee hours of the morning (it was nothing 3 cups of coffee couldn't deal with the next day).

Anyway, the most recent book I crushed was "Water for Elephants". I'm not sure why I put off reading this book for so long. I don't know if I was turned off by the circus setting or maybe I just couldn't understand how watering elephants could be that enthralling, but whatever the reason, I was so incredibly wrong (never judge a book by it's cover). What an amazing piece of writing! Now, for the first time ever, I will be able to be that person who complains about how the movie doesn't stack up in any way to the book (obviously because my previous prejudices also prevented me from watching the movie). Bring it on Reese Witherspoon and Robert Pattinson, I look forward to our movie date this evening!

That being said, today's post is inspired by a topic that was brought to my attention in this book. Widowhood. While happily reading along, I came to the stark realization that barring some freak accident where we're both killed together, at some point in the (hopefully distant, distant) future, either D or myself will be widowed (sad face). The widower in the book, while sad that he was without his life partner, was happy that she had passed away before him so that she didn't have to be the one consumed by loneliness, a failing body and the mundaness of 93 year old existence.

How incredibly sad.

So I broached the subject with D.

Me: "D, I'm scared of when you or I die. If you die first, I'll be so lonely, I don't know what I would do. I can't imagine what life would be like. How would I fall asleep without your sweaty, boiler of a body rubbing up next to me? Who would scrub the tub clean? Who would calm me down when I'm about to lose it on the Purolator people who can't find the package I came to pick up? Who would come in every night, give me a kiss and ask me how my day was? Or if I die first, I don't want to think of how sad and lonely you may be. It's horrible either way."

D: "I don't think of it that way. I would like to think that when one of us dies, the other will still have so much in their life to live for, to enjoy. Family, friends, hobbies and the memories of the years we had together."

K: "Up!" (at the garage door opening).

Me: (Looking back at our perfect little man) Yeah, you're right.

End of conversation.

D and I are not scared of talking about death, it actually comes up quite frequently in conversation. For example, we both want to be buried. We want our headstones to be minimal and natural looking (D wants a carved tree stump, but I may veto that for a proper rock). We would like to donate any of our usable parts to save a life (or 8). And if that's not an option, than donating our bodies to a cadaver lab for science/teaching would be our plan B. We've discussed at great lengths who we would want to raise K, heaven forbid we go sooner rather than later (and together).

Our comfort with discussing death, has no doubt come from our fields of work. Working in healthcare has exposed us to the entire lifecycle, including death, and it has given us the vernacular to talk freely about it. People die. We all die.

So this conversation was not weird, it did not catch D off guard, and he didn't miss a beat with his reply to me. He's great like that, he knew just what to say to bring me out of my book-induced frenzy and back to reality.

So when the time comes and at death do us part, I greedily hope to go first, because he seems to have a good handle on life and I think he would make the best widower. Besides, he knows that I don't make time for shredding our confidential information pages and he would spin in his grave knowing that on top of being a widow, I'm lackadaisically making myself vulnerable to identity theft!

Until next time friends!

-A

Happy Grandparent's Day!

Hello Friends,

As most of you (probably don't) know, today is Grandparent's Day! So today's post will be inspired by all those people who were able to raise their children to an age where they could (and did) reproduce.

I was lucky enough to grow up with 4 grandparents, and three great grandparents. A special shout out to my one great-grandma who is now into her 90s and is still going strong (I hope I get some of those genes!). My Grandma and Grandpa M (Granny and Gramps as they would become known) lived on the farm with us, so we got to see them daily (whether they liked it or not... haha), and my Grandma and Grandpa B lived 15 min away, so while we didn't see them daily, we saw them pretty often as well. Needless to say, I was very close with them all!

What I find so fascinating about grandparents, is that they are people with very interesting, very unique lives and prior to becoming grandparents they were children and teenagers and parents themselves.

Wild, I know!

As a child, and even more so as an adult, I would marvel at the little snippets of life, love and loss that were unearthed about these mysterious, yet completly familiar individuals. Sometimes, I would try to place myself there, to live inside their stories, to understand how the family tree arrived at my leaf. I would try to walk alongside that nervous 10 year old girl, having left the only life she's ever known in Poland, en route to a family she's never met, surrounded by a language she doesn't understand. "Your name is Jane now, not Johanna". Or I would stand tall behind that brave 15 year old boy who, after having lost his own father at 5, would stand up to the man who terrorized the better part of his childhood. I would laugh with the young woman who, after a few adult beverages, would think it hilarious to pull a pair of pantyhose over her head (I'm definitely cut from the same cloth). Or I would beam with pride at the young man who, after finding the woman of his dreams, would love her 3 young girls as if they were his own without a second thought.

It seems so wild that the paths of these four people would cross and that their branches would converge at me (and my sisters of course). Earlier today, while examining my three grey hairs in the mirror, I couldn't help but notice my grandparents looking back at me. The way my nose turns up at the end, or how my forehead wrinkes when I think too hard (thankfully that doesn't happen too often), or my hair that can never decide whether it wants to be curly or straight (so it usually picks an awkward frizzy state, thanks grandma), or my blue eye/brown hair combo (I've been told this is exotic... I'll take it).  Having lost 3 of my 4 grandparents before the rise of instagram and 24/7 access to cameras, these fleeting moments are particularly special, since I can't flip through 4235 selfies of us on my computer (Granny, we really need to take more selfies together).

Now, with the birth of K, D and I have made 4 new grandparents, 5 great-grandparents and 1 great-great-grandma! At 1 1/2, it's already obvious how much he loves them (and has them wrapped around his little toddler finger) and they, him. I know that through the years, like every other grandparent in history, they will share little bits of themselves with K, that will transcend their shared DNA. These moments and memories filled with cookies (and spinach), and hugs and stories from the past, will live on in K and hopefully be there to comfort, console and encourage him on his journey through this crazy ride called life!

I encourage you all to let your grandparents know how much you love them (today and everyday). Happy Grandparent's Day everyone!

Until next time my friends,

-A

Granny and 2 of her 6 great-grandbabies

What I Wish I could Say: Playground Edition

Hi Friends,

Today K and I went to the playground for a little fresh air (as we do most days). Unfortunately, we had to cut our rendezvous short as there seemed to be an unusually high number of little weiners at the park.

Now, when I say "little weiners", I mean those seemingly parent-less kids who get some sort of sick thrill out of tormenting unsuspecting patrons of the playground (and their parents). So this post is dedicated to those little hooligans, and their parents (who I'm not "judging"... but I mean, c'mon... nevermind, yes. I'm definitely judging... you know who you are). The following is what I (along with the other "side-eyeing" parents at the park today) would have liked to say/do to some of the worst cuprits and their caregivers.

1. To the rock throwing child.
"What the actual eff child?! Who calls out in the direction of a small group of toddlers and when they, in all of their adorableness, look towards you, then throws a handful of stones in their perfect little faces. Who does that?! Go take your tiny little, rat-tail wearing, butt over to that park bench and give yourself a timeout. And then when you're done with that, go home. No more playground for you."

2. To the parent/caregiver of the rock thrower
"Where the eff are you? Do you really think that we don't see you sitting under that tree taking selfies to check your hair/makeup. Don't think I'm above lecturing your kid."

3. To the obnoxious 8 year old brats insisting on burrying each other with woodchips
"Could you please get you're whiney, booty-short wearing butts off the toddler slide and carry on with this ridiculousness somewhere else? There is only one slide that wee park patrons are able to competently navigate (that is without breaking their arms or necks). Also, if you haven't noticed, there have been 6 pairs of toddler feet within striking distance of your perfectly braided head. One more attempt by my little guy, and I may just let him go."

4. To the two protein shake drinking moms who are giggling and laughing at your obnoxious daughters
"Do you not realize that there are 6 sets of eyes glaring at both of you right now? No, they are not "just the cutest". Stop encouraging this. Have you forgotten what it's like to have an 18month old at the park? I hope so, otherwise you're just jerks. "

5. To the kid who follows around the little guys and refuses to let them do anything
"I don't know what your deal is buddy, but if you don't stop slide-blocking my son, I'm going to plant my mum-butt on that slide you've been running up and down for the last 20 minutes and refuse to move. Oh, you'll do the monkey bars? Well, I think I can hang there for a while too. We'll see how much you like walking back and forth with nothing to do."

6. To the mum of the abovementioned kid
"Let's get this straight, he's not "showing the little guys how it's done" as you would have that person on the phone believe. He's being an uber-weiner. Your kid isn't some celebrity that we are all feel honoured to watch play. If I wanted my little man to watch someone else have fun for 45 minutes, I would just put on a cartoon, in the comfort of our air-conditioned condo.

7. To the 3 kids who are sitting on the sprinklers in the splashpad
"We get it, it feels good. Water shooting up your butt, what could be better? But seriously, get the eff up, the rest of us would like to enjoy the cool sprays of the splashpad, it's like 40 degrees out."

8. To the daycare lady who's in charge of these 3 and another 4.
"I can't even imagine bringing 7 kids to this playground. Kudos to you. That being said, we're all hot and sweaty, so please ask them to move. Also, I know that kid 4 is having a meltdown, but kids 5, 6 and 7 are trying to push those first 3 off and a real fight is brewing. You might want to get on that one. Do you need us to step in? I'm more than happy to lay down the law."

End of rant. Thank you for reading.

Until next time my friends,

-A

Where's the water mum? Up the butts of those weiners dear.  

Eek!

Dear Friends.

Hello Friends,

I was watching the Social yesterday afternoon (as I do more afternoons than I would like to admit). The ladies were talking about a life coach who has recently proposed friends should sign a "no guilt" agreement. The conversation turned to making time for friendships, and they were debating whether you should feel guilty or make your friends feel guilty for not hanging out. As they debated, I couldn't help but reflect on how my friendships have changed since having K.

Back when I met most of my closest friends, we were fun. We collectively guilt-tripped each other into studying a little less for those exams and partying a little more. Did our grades suffer? Of course. But, did we forge lifelong friendships? Definitely. Early on in my university career, my now BFF and I decided we needed to put limits on the amount of guilt we could trip each other with. One evening, while we probably should've been studying for some test, we spent hours (more than I'm willing to admit) drafting and typing out what would be known as the "Shafting Constitution". This document outlined an endless amount of scenerios in which one party could "shaft" (or decline an invitation from) the other party, no questions asked, completely guilt-free (an exam/assignment worth >10% of final grade, family visiting, an illness such as the Bubonic Plague [side note: a person in China recently died from the Bubonic Plague, how crazy is that??] were examples of such scenerios). This constitution facilitated our ability to say "no" to each other in an environment that all to often becomes a breeding ground for peer-pressure and poor decision-making. That constitution, while now completely outdated and in much need of an update, hung on my fridge until May of this year when it was boxed up with a number of other important keepsakes in preparation for our move. It made me laugh to think that we, as young, probably intoxicated, university students, were years ahead of this "professional" life coach/personal trainer, whatever the credentials of this individual were. Aly Cia, we were on to something! No wonder we've become besties.

Anyway, back to reflecting.

Since K's arrival, I can 100% admit that I have less time for my friends. What little time I do get to spend with each of them (whether in person or on the phone), is usually inturrupted nine million times by that wonderful little man of mine. I know my friends, no doubt, feel that they've been "shafted", but I want each and every one of you to know that, while that may be true, you are loved by me (and my little guy- despite his 15 attempts to hit the "end" button on our phone call). I don't feel guilty because while I spend less time with you all, I appreciate our moments together even more. As a mum to a toddler I've quickly realized how important my auxillary support is. I want you all to know that through those texts, calls, random run-ins, coffee dates and meandering walks:

You help keep me grounded when I feel like I'm losing my ability to speak in full sentences (or even use real words). Even just reading two line text messages can bring it all back. 

You reassure me that my tiny person is, in fact, growing despite my feeling like I have more food in my hair, than I've gotten into his little toddler belly all week. 

You encourage me to share my experiences so that you can learn from them (read: laugh at the hilariousness that comes with raising 1 1/2 year olds and thank your heavenly stars that you don't have children). 

You validate my success as a mum by acknowledging how incredibly smart, talented and handsome my perfect little being is (ok, ok, maybe you don't use those words exactly, but I'm going to infer). 

So while I'm not so sure I'll ever have the same kind of time for my friends as I once did, I will always make sure to keep on top of your major life events (by Facebook creeping them at the very least...) and I'll try to keep you updated on mine. Also, know that I am here for all of you, anytime, day or night (seriously, I'm up all. the. time.) so feel free to include me in the minor events too!

Until next time!

-A

Celebrating with the Bride-to-be last weekend! 8 Years of friendship in this photo! 

Clocks.

Hello Friends,

"Tick Tock says the Clock"

Harmless, right?

Wrong.

We've been pointing out clocks to K ever since he took interest in the big wall clock hanging in my in law's kitchen at the ripe old age of 9 months. "Tick Tock says the Clock" my mother-in-law would chime, as K would point and smile. Well 8 months have passed and K has a marked interest in clocks. He has an exceptional ability to find every clock in every room and announce their location(s). This would be incredibly helpful to anyone within earshot if it were not for one teeny tiny thing.

K hasn't mastered the "L".

"Cock, cock, cock, Mum, cock, Mum, COCK!"

Did you know there are 5 wall clocks between the pharmacy and the checkout at our local Walmart?

No? Neither did I. But I sure do now. Thanks bud.

Anyway, feeling the need to acknowledge the chuckles erupting from fellow Walmart patrons, I announced loudly "Yes K, there's another CL-ock. Tick-Tock says the Clock".

Then I giggled to myself as I remembered a recent interaction between K and my Mother-in-Law (MIL).

MIL: "Oooh K, let's find the clocks! There's a big clock and a little clock."
K: "Cock" *points*
MIL: "This clock is pointy, this is a round clock..."
K: "Cock" *points*
MIL: "...and this clock came from China. K, where's the big, black clock?"
K: "Cock" *points*

Ha ha. We'd better get working on those "Ls", or this mum is gonna have a lot of explainin' to do!

Until next time my friends,

-A

Vows

Hello Friends,

Three years ago today, I married my best friend. Happy Anniversary D! As I reflect on how much has changed for us between then and now (K, new jobs, new city), I marvel at how much has stayed the same (we are both still extremely good-looking!). I re-read my wedding vows today for the first time since becoming a mum. As I reflected on how these vows have shaped our first three years of wedded bliss, I was surprised at how readily they apply to my approach to mummyhood.

As mums (and dads), we are not required to make vows to our children. There are no formal ceremonies for us to state publicly how we will approach our role as parents. However, I feel that there should be, given that parenting is not so much a skill as it is a lifelong relationship. While most of us probably parent with unspoken vows driving our interactions with our children, I think it's important to openly acknowledge them as a means to parental accountability. Being a parent, like being a husband or wife can be hard sometimes. It's definitely not all sunshine and roses, and having something tangible to reflect upon during those turbulent times may make all the difference. After all, if K is anything like his mum, there will be many a "for better or for worse" in our future!

So without further adieu, my vows to the two most important people in my life;

D (K),

You are the most amazing person I have ever met. 

Your brains and your brawn are but a small piece of the amazingness that is you. 

You care so deeply for everything you do and everyone you meet, and for that I truly admire you. 

You help me to be the best I can be, by supporting me when I’m unsure and challenging me when I am confident.

I love you so much and as your best friend (mum),

I promise to encourage your dreams and do my very best to help you realize them

I promise to build a strong home with (for) you, where we can continue to learn from and grow with each other

I promise to share my whole world with you and never take you for granted

I promise to stand by your side through life’s ups and downs, and love you unconditionally.

I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life waking up next to you (watching you grow). 

I’m so excited to start our new life together and even more excited to start it as your wife (mum).

I love you.  

Until next time my friends,  

- A

Still feelin' it three years later!

I'm Running Away.

Hi Friends,

I've had it. I'm running away.

As a little girl, I attempted to run away a few times. I would pack up my little bag with a couple necessities (clean underwear, a few cookies and a bottle of water) and head off down the lane. Unfortunately, our lane was like a kilometre long and there was nothing but more gravel once you got to the end. So I would usually make it to the bush, plop myself down under a tree, eat my cookies and contemplate my next move. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, whatever it was that had me running was usually deemed a better alternative to the vast wilderness of North Easthope Township. At that, I would pick myself up, walk back home, return my underwear to their rightful place in the dresser (unbeknownst to my mum) and carry on with life.

Now, as an adult, I could probably still manage with just a pair of underwear, cookies and a bottle of water. However, as a wife and mum, it would be rather difficult to run away in this manner, as my necessities now include both D and K (although, I'm sure they'd be cool with the cookie part). So there I sat, at my metaphorical tree on the side of the lane(read: computer on the couch), thinking through what had me feeling like needing to run.

We moved to Hamilton almost 3 months ago, and since then, we have been going, going, going, non-stop. However, in between all the "going" it has become painfully obvious that even though I'm not too far from friends and family, I'm a stay-at-home mum, alone in a new city. For the last three months, I have been attempting to ignore this fact, hoping that everything will magically work itself out. Maybe, the next time I walk to the park I will meet the perfect group of mum friends who will invite me into their secret mum-clubhouse where we will have the best of times and there will be endless activities for me to fill my days with!

Last week, as I repeated some version of this delusional thinking to myself, I realized, "this is not real life". Real life is me with K needing to get myself figured out. What do I want to accomplish as a stay-at home mum? What are my goals? How do my dreams factor in to my reality? I realized that just because I have chosen to stay at home with K doesn't mean I have to "stay at home". In fact, it means quite the opposite! I need to get out, get moving, and show K this wonderful world! My job is to introduce K to life, and I can't do that if I'm hiding, or stalling or remaining stagnant in my own (one can only watch so many episodes of BubbleGuppies).

So, I've decided to run.

Running has been something that I've always wanted to try, and not only is it a good way to get exercise but I think it will be a good way to get to know my new city (and a faster way to get through the sketchy areas to the nice places in town).

The first step was to add some external motivation to amp up my internal, so I ordered a (stupidly expensive) jogging stroller (knowing that D wouldn't let me let that baby sit in the corner collecting dust). Now that it has arrived (and rolls like a freakin' dream) it is time to get my butt in gear. I've joined my local Running Room, and signed up for my first 5K (with Baby Stroller). I know 5K is not huge, and may seem pretty insignificant to my running friends, but I wanted K to be a part of the whole process and it seemed like a good fit for us (considering this mummy butt has been sitting for almost 2 years)!

So there you have it. I'm running away.

Away from the couch, away from the four walls that seem to grow closer and closer everyday, away from the poor attitude that I have adopted since our move 3 months ago. Time to start fresh!

Until next time my friends!

-A

When I Grow Up I'm Going to be...

Hello Friends,

My mum and dad are in the midst of cleaning house in preparation for a major renovation project. This means old schoolwork collected throughout the years is being unearthed in an attempt to decide what to keep and what to toss. Revisiting some of this material has been entertaining, to say the least. This post was inspired by a picture contained within one of these giant rubbermaid tubs.

The picture was titled "When I Grow Up I'm Going to be...". On the page was a stick figure princess standing on a stage holding a microphone. There were music notes floating all around the princess' head and there were a bunch of semi-circles in front of the stage (which I can only assume were either empty chairs or the back of the heads of audience- I'm going to go with the latter). Underneath the picture read as follows:

"Famous" - Amanda, 6.

Haha. While most of my peers were aspiring to be police officers, veterinarians, lawyers, teachers and farmers, I was going to be FAMOUS! I can only imagine the chuckles my parents (and teachers) had upon seeing most of my (art)work from grade school, as there really seemed to be a theme throughout that box of memories.

I've always had a knack for being dramatic and I attribute my love of the theatrical side of life to my being the younger middle child in a family of all girls. It was either stand-out or get lost in the Je-Suz-Jil-whatever-the-heck-your-name-is chaos of everyday life.

Mum- It's Mandy by the way.

Despite only getting my name right one in ten times, my parents were remarkably adept at encouraging my dreams and facilitating my goals. Voice lessons, dance and choir were added to my extra-curricular calendar and at the ripe old age of 7, I felt like I was well on my way to stardom! I would climb up onto those risers, or stand proudly in front of those church pews, or strut out onto that stage (in what would be my future highschool's auditorium) and just give it my all. Whether it was dance or singing (or both!) I would never hold back, always performing like the world's talent scouts were out there watching and waiting in the wings to pluck me from the farm and take me to wherever it is talent scouts take "the next big thing". Haha, the wild imagination of a little girl.

21 years have passed since I boldly etched out those letters (FAMOUS) underneath a stick figure version of myself and I can say that while I may not be a household name, I have created many opportunities to live out this fantasy version of my future. In fact, I couldn't help but notice the resemblance of my drawing to this gem that was snapped during my second year performing in the University of Toronto's Medical School Musical "Daffydil".

The funny thing is, that while I may have long given up on my dreams of stardom, becoming a mum to a toddler has allowed me to experience celebrity status. In a way, mummyhood has made me famous.

- I have a stage name, "Mummy"
It's cool like Madonna, no last name

- I have an entourage wherever I go
Doing everyday errands with a toddler on your hip increases your awesome factor by 1000% "Look at that mum bagging those green onions with a baby on her hip, how freakin' cool is she?!" 

- I have people (or a person) that look(s) to me for answers, information and the what's-what
Those are whales on your shorts. Whales live in the ocean. Whales are super "in" this summer.

- Improv shows are a part of my daily life
Lunchtime isn't complete without my most boistrous version of the Bubbleguppies theme song.

- I get applauded multiple times a day
Loading the dishwasher, "Yay! Clap for Mummy"
Folding the laundry, "Yay! Clap for Mummy"
Paying for groceries, "Yay! Clap for Mummy"
Picking K's blocks out of places they were too big to fit in,"Yay! Clap for Mummy"

- I wear sunglasses almost all the time
Albeit they're mostly to hide the super dark bags under my eyes. 

- Any time I'm invited to an event/outing, I have to check with "my people" before I can confirm
 Ooo, that falls within naptime, but maybe we can push it to 3o'clock? I'll see what he's like at 2. 

- I'm always expected to be in character (as mummy), and it is utterly disappointing to my biggest fan (K) if I break character even for a minute
"Wait?! Why are you kissing Daddy?! Stop that. You're myyyyyy Mummy!" But I suppose it'd be like seeing Will Farell in a period piece drama- weird. 

All in all, I must say, "fame" really is all it's cracked up to be. If I could go back to 6 year old me, I'd tell her to shoot for the moon, sing for those stars and don't be so disappointed that those scouts never showed up. You will land the best gig in town and you will have an audience that never tires of your act.

Until next time my friends!

- A

Beachin' with my entourage!