Bedtime Songs from the Serengeti

This post is a pretty selfish one.  I want to remember this ridiculous song I recently invented and sing to the kids every night (for some crazy reason, they both love it).  We had been doing Silent Night and Twinkle Twinkle for the past 9 or so months, but we have moved on to these two masterpieces (please contact me if you are interested in purchasing the rights to either version of this soon to be bedtime classic).

The babe's favorite:

The Elephant Song by Christine

"There once was an elephant name Elly, and she was very big.
There once was an elephant named Elly, and she was very big.
Her Mama's name was Fanny, and she loved her very much.

There once was a giraffe name Rafi, and he was very tall.
There once was a giraffe named Rafi, and he was very tall.
His Mama's name was Gerri, and she loved him very much.

And they all lived together, on the Serengeti, in Africa."

The little guy's favorite:

The Giraffe Song by Christine

"There once was a giraffe name Rafi, and he was very tall.
There once was a giraffe named Rafi, and he was very tall.
His Mama's name was Gerri, and she loved him very much.

There once was an elephant name Elly, and she was very big.
There once was an elephant named Elly, and she was very big.
Her Mama's name was Fanny, and she loved her very much.

And they all lived together, on the Serengeti, in Africa."

Our Fear of Failure

The babe has recently started Bollywood/Indian folk dance classes.  The first class was a mega hit.  We wrote a check and committed to driving her to class every Sunday morning until the end of May.  Then a funny thing happened.  The babe didn't want to go. 

After much drama and discussion, we got her out the door and into the car.  And you know what the problem was?  She was afraid of not being good at it.  She was so afraid, she only participated in half the class.  You see, the babe is so competitive, she's scared she won't be able to perform the moves and won't be able to keep up with other kids.  It is unfortunate that we signed her up after the session had already started (which put her at a disadvantage), but I really thought she'd jump right into things with gusto.  I forgot how quickly perspective can change in the world of a five-year-old.

The experience serves as a reminder that my husband and I have to help her through her issues with competition, her fear of failure and her apparent desire for perfection.  While there are benefits to being competitive and aiming for perfection, we are concerned that she will stop trying new things if she can't master them immediately.  My husband and I both had childhoods where we were afraid to fail and actually avoided tackling new interests if we thought there was a chance we wouldn't succeed.  That said, I suppose she comes by these issues quite naturally.

I am glad we've identified this streak in the babe but it is hard to see these issues arise at such a tender age.  I want her to believe that she can try anything she puts her mind to and to confront these feelings and not allow them to control her.  We have had numerous discussions over the past few days about the importance of practice and have shared stories of our own struggles.  Hopefully things will go a bit more smoothly next week, but regardless, I am oddly grateful we are being confronted with this before she starts elementary school in the fall.

High Expectations

Wow.  Where did that month go?

Well people, it's good to see you.  I think of you often and can't wait for life to calm down so I can sit at my computer and type out my joys and sorrows.

I've recently realized that when you volunteer time, you have less of it.  You may recall I have been serving as the editor of the little guy's preschool's newsletter and that I am also writing for our local community newsletter.  These things take time, and when I agreed to take them on, I didn't really think about how it would effect my blogging.  Apparently it has effected my blogging quite seriously.

So here I am.  I have so many subjects I want to write about, I don't really know where to start. Instead of backtracking, I will start with today.

My dear Mother left for the airport this morning at 7am.  She had come for a short visit and it went by so very fast...as her visits always do.  While shuttling my kids to and fro this morning, I was struck by how badly I felt.  You see, my kids were not well behaved during her visit and I was constantly feeling upset, stressed, embarrassed and frustrated.  I felt like I had no control of my offspring and that I looked like a frantic, crazy Mama who was hanging on by a thread.  And while some of that is certainly true, I know in my heart that the past few days were extreme because the kids had an audience (other than their parents).  There were times when I was at a loss and just wanted to yell and scream, give up, turn on some "educational" TV and go hide in a hole.  My Mom reassures me they were very well behaved whenever my husband and I were out of the house (like on our date night or our furniture shopping escapade).  And while that makes me feel a bit better, why couldn't they have been like that when I was around?

During her visit, I asked my Mom a lot of questions about how she juggled all the craziness of having three small kids back in the day.  She admits she doesn't remember all that much, but she did point out that she always worked part-time and that gave her a chance to get away from the house, socialize and work with adults (not spouses or relatives), and gain perspective on her family life.  She encouraged me to get out of the house more and do things for myself.  She also told me (in a nice way) that my life revolves around my kids. 

When I sit down and look at my family's life, I will be the first to acknowledge that I am the one who is home and running the show the majority of the time.  And without family back-up, there isn't much relief.  Frankly, my life does revolve around my kids and I am not sure how I would be able to change that right now.

The two mornings I get alone when both of the little monsters are at school (3.5 hours a week (after drive time)!), I am pretty overrun with a hefty to do list.  Frankly, there are just too many errands I am not willing to do with the little guy anymore because he has become such a fan of public meltdowns.  And that means there are a lot of things to accomplish when he is not around! 

But I am trying.  I have actually been to a gym six times since late January (thanks to a Groupon deal).  I get out to dinner or brunch with friends every few weeks.  I took an anger management class for parents (which made a ton of sense in theory but is proving rather difficult to implement in reality).  And I just started a leadership training course at PEP (the Parent Encouragement Program) which offers the parenting classes I've been taking over the past year.  Now seriously, what else can a girl fit in??

Anyway, I'm babbling a bit here but I just had to share my frustration over the constant stress of being a stay-at-home parent of a challenging five year old and a defiant, moody and physically abusive three old.  I used to complain that babies were tough (which of course they are--especially the grueling sleep deprivation and loss of self), but man oh man, it's nothing compared to the physical, emotional and mental demands I now face daily.  And when everything gets even more ramped up during a five day visit from Nana, it certainly forces me to ask: "why is this (parenthood) so freakin hard and how do I make this (parenthood) better?"

My solution for today was to rush to the gym, run on a treadmill for 25 minutes, sit in a hot sauna for 10 minutes, and buy an overpriced fancy latte before grabbing a few groceries and rushing to pick up the little guy at preschool.  Endorphins combined with caffeine can be a pretty awesome thing.  It certainly help put things in perspective this morning.

My Mom mentioned that perhaps Mothers today are too hard on themselves.  Our expectations and standards are too high and we set ourselves up for failure because there is no way we can achieve our lofty goals.  There could be some truth to this.  But is it too much to ask to just have kids who listen and don't give you attitude or physically attack you when they don't get their way?  Is that really asking too much?  And if I am embarassed by my kids crazy behavior because I take it as a reflection on my parenting abilities, does that mean I am being too hard on myself?  The truth is, I just don't know.

Friday Night

My lovely husband allowed me to escape last Friday night.  I had tickets to see the spectacular Kathleen Edwards at the 9:30 Club.  I was really looking forward to it, that is, until the babe came down with a fever at school and I had to pick her up, about 8.5 hours before I was to be heading out the door for my big night out.

Luckily my husband reassured me he would be fine and the babe would be fine, too.  "Go and have fun," he said (or something like that).  So I did.  There was a little bit of guilt, but a lot of excitement.  You may not recall, but I am a big Kathleen Edwards fan and if I were a rock star, I'd like to be sorta like her (she is from my hometown, Ottawa, after all).

So, the concert was great.  Hanging out with my old friend was great.  But getting home at 1:00 am to a sick little girl was not great.  My husband had just changed the sheets on her bed as she had thrown up. 

Now, what you probably don't know is that Kathleen Edwards released a new album a few weeks ago, Voyageur.  One of the songs on this album is called "Change the Sheets" and I have been listening to it while driving around town with the kids.  They dig it (excellent taste, those kids of mine).

Now this may not be completely on the up and up, but I had agreed to tape a little bit of "Change the Sheets" on my phone to show the babe (I was trying to make her feel better).  How appropriate is it then that when I got home, just after my husband had changed the babe's sheets, she sweetly asked me if I could play "Change the Sheets" on my phone for her.  That 5 year old sure is a dedicated fan!  And was I ever glad I had figured out how to tape with my phone in a dark night club.

Saturday was a rough day for all of us.  But I sure was glad I'd been able to rock out with K.E.

The babe is back in good health and all is well.

The Kids Were Gone

You know the kind of dreams you feel trapped in?  I believe they're called nightmares.  And I had one last night. 

It was a dream which forced me to wake up my husband for comfort, check on my kids and shed a few tears.  It was a dream that caused me to remember that bad things can happen really fast.  One moment your life is "normal," and the next, your life becomes a nightmare.

My neighborhood, and the general NW section of DC has been experiencing what they call a "crime wave."  People are being mugged at gunpoint on the streets while walking home from the metro.  Homes are being broken into.  And there have even been a few cases of people being attacked and robbed after getting out of their cars in front of their homes. 

It has changed the way my husband and I operate on a daily basis.  He no longer wears his ear phones while walking home at night.  He has stopped wearing his father's watch for fear that it could be stolen at gunpoint.  I am locking our car doors as soon as we are all buckled in.  I am catching taxis home when I used to catch the metro and walk.  What really irks me is that I have given up my after dinner head refreshing evening walks around the neighborhood.  We have been told this is just a phase and once these guys are caught we will be able to return to "normal."  Although it will be a new "normal," as we have now seen what can happen very close to home. 

While I wouldn't say we are living in fear, we certainly have become more aware and cautious.

That brings me to my nightmare.  My kids and I were headed out on a park date in our car with another Mom and her daughter.  The kids were buckled into their car seats along with the other Mom.  I was about to go back up our front path to lock up the house when I noticed a few slightly dodgy guys walking down the street.  I figured it was broad day light and that I shouldn't be overly concerned.  I did lock the car doors, just to be safe.  I went in to lock up the house and set the alarm, which involves momentarily shutting the front door.  I set the alarm, walked outside, and the car was gone.  My kids were gone.  The Mom and her daughter were gone.  And the 2 dodgy guys were gone.

The rest of my nightmare involved panic, calls to 911, and the dark realization that my kids were missing.

Somehow I managed to escape the dream.  But I can't explain how real it was when I was stuck in it.

I don't know why this dream was enough to motivate me to actually update my neglected blog, but I guess I wanted to share it as a reminder that stuff can happen quickly.  Anyone who has lost their child in a grocery store, watched their child run out into a street or parking lot, or watched their baby fall off a bed or couch will tell you that.  Bad s#%$ can happen fast.

As you may have guessed, I will now be more cautious when my kids are playing in the front of the house.  While I am usually on top of them, there are times I have run into the house quickly to grab something.  And while I am not going to live in fear, I am going to step up our families security so I don't have to face any real life nightmares.

Keep Calm and Carry On

I was so happy to get back from the holidays.  There's nothing like sleeping in your own bed after being on the road with kids for a few weeks.  And there's nothing like returning to your routine.  I would be lost without our routine and I rely on it heavily.  Last Monday I realized that even a "long weekend" is enough to throw me off.  Sadly, I am the kind of Mama who is burnt out after spending a few days straight with my kids...without our routine.

I won't get into details, but the highlight of last Monday morning was driving around downtown Washington trying to find a parking spot so we could go to the Natural History Museum.  I had forgotten that everyone else would be doing the exact same thing as the museum is located on the National Mall and Monday was Martin Luther King Jr. Day.  After 45 minutes of circling the museum to the North, South, East and West, and having every spot I had identified stolen by a more aggressive driver, I lost it.  I hit my steering wheel, started crying and mumbling crazily that I was NEVER going to find a spot and that I was just going to have to GIVE UP.  My daughter was already crying as we were supposed to be meeting her friend inside the museum and my son started wailing because he wanted to see the dinosaurs. 

I like to consider myself a good driver with relatively crafty downtown navigation abilities, but I simply could not find my parking mojo on Monday.  It killed me to do it, but I actually had to give up and create an alternative plan to try and make it up to my kids.  We headed to Georgetown to watch the ducks on the river and grab a snack by the C&O Canal.  I recovered the morning, kind of, but felt so terrible about my inability to keep my cool in front of my kids.  What kind of example was I setting as I blubbered my self deprecating nonsense, occasionally yelling at parking spot stealers while pounding my steering wheel in frustration?

I don't want to be that kind of Mom. I want them to learn how to keep their cool.  I want them to learn how to not take the wrong things too seriously.  I want them to learn how to find humour in the every day struggle (although we did manage to laugh about it on the drive home as I fed them cookies and played their favorite annoying Little People CD). 

All this is to say that I am tired of not being able to stay as calm as I would like when I am presented with life's constant little challenges.  I don't want to yell and freak out when things don't go my way or when my kids do the things that kids do.  I don't want them to be afraid of me and the possible reaction I may have. 

That's a lot of things that I want and that I don't want.  But other than tattooing "Keep Calm and Carry On" in some highly visible location, how can I deal with this unsavory part of my self?

I went to a lecture at the little guy's school last night on "How to Raise a Responsible Child" and I was reminded how important my role is in developing my kids' character.  They learn from what they see and I need to teach them by setting a good example.  This is SO OBVIOUS yet so hard to remember on a minute by minute basis. 

When I lose my cool, they must think that it is OK to lose your cool.  When I am checking emails and not listening to them, and then get annoyed and snap when they keep "bugging" me, they are learning that it is OK to ignore people while you fiddle with a technological gadget.  And when I yell at them in the grocery store (or any public place, really) because their behavior is less than exemplary, I am embarrassing both myself and them because I should be able to think of more creative ways to handle situations that I have been consistently confronted with for the past 5 years.  If I can not be a responsible parent, how can I expect them to be responsible kids?

Yikes!!!!!  They are going to need years of therapy because of me!!

So I am taking a small step.  I got home from last night's lecture and signed up for Managing Anger: A Parents Guide which is being offered at the Parent Encouragement Program (PEP), the same folks who held the preschooler classes I took last winter.  It is only 3 sessions, but I am hoping the 6 hours of instruction, thought and discussion will help me learn how to better deal with my parental frustrations.

Because as much as I'd like to make it to yoga and work on my deep breathing techniques, I think I am in  need of a supportive classroom environment where I can remember that I am not alone in this.  Parenting is the hardest thing I have ever done and I want to make sure that I am doing it to the best of my abilities.  What is that wise old saying, again?  Nothing good comes easily?  Well I am going to work on this and while I would not call it a New Year's resolution, I am hoping I can become a better Mama so my kids will end up better people. 

Happy New Year!

I meant to say that a few weeks ago; Happy New Year!

I have been thinking of you every day, and when I noticed that there are actually folks who check on this site daily, I felt a huge pang of guilt.

I rapidly progressed from being over run with guilt to feeling plain old overwhelmed.  How am I going to update you on the past month and a half of chaos?

So I have decided I am just going to do a brief recap of all the things which would have been worthy of their own posts.  That is the only way I can free myself and start blogging 2012 style.

My first born child, the one who made me a Mama, turned 5 years old on December 7th.  We hosted a lovely pottery painting party for her.  I think it all turned out pretty well, considering the insane amount of time I spent obsessing over how to handle the politics of a 5 year old girls birthday party (in the end I decided small is sweet and big is just too much to handle, emotionally and financially!).  She seemed pretty thrilled with the whole experience but was bummed to learn that she would have to wait 12 months to experience the joys of another birthday. 

We were honored to attend Art Night with the babe at her school the day after her birthday.  Parents and children get dressed in their finest, bring in a pot luck dinner contribution, and experience a gallery type soiree.  The collection of Mattisse inspired art was stunning, but really, what was stunning was my daughter's amazing piece.  As I can't truly explain it, I have decided to share it here with you.

The day after the babe's birthday party, I cut off my son's long hair.  I sat him at the dining room table, brushed his locks one last time, and hacked of a huge chunk with my trusty little scissors.  That beautiful head of hair had been 3 years in the making and I had decided I was done.  I was done picking out food after every meal.  I was done having to wash it so much because of the blobs of dirt and soy nut butter I would discover at bath time every night.  I was done explaining that my son is actually a boy, not a girl (I do not exaggerate when I tell you that I did this every single day). 

Don't get me wrong, I loved his hair.  I thought he was absolutely stunning with his long hair flowing behind him when he ran.  But frankly, his behavior has become a tad undesirable of late, and I was beginning to associate his long hair with his newly developing rep as a ruffian trouble making punk.  So I chopped it off, put the hair in a Ziploc baggie, and packed my family off to the barber shop where my husband and son both had a hair cut.  A new father-son barber shop tradition was born that day (December 11th) and my son has not been called a girl since.

But wait, there's more.  That Ziploc baggie with my son's beautiful hair has been sent to India with my Mother in Law.  The hair will be scattered into the river where my husband's hair was placed after he had his first hair cut (actually head shave) as part of the (Hindu) Mundan ceremony.  I feel good the little guy's hair wasn't just swept up off the barber shop floor.  And while I miss his hair, I love that my little boy went from baby to boy in one simple act.  It's hard to explain, but something changed the day we cut his hair, and I don't regret our decision.

The kids and I then flew to Canada where we had a 2.5 week long adventure visiting family and friends in Ottawa and Montreal.  During the visit my husband celebrated a birthday, and my son, the little guy, turned 3.  He is a Christmas Eve baby and hasn't really had a true birthday party yet.  Luckily he hasn't seemed to notice and was happy to get a chocolate cupcake with a candle so he could make a wish (although I am not so sure he understands the "wish"concept).  We brought the kids to Christmas Mass with my folks and sister which ended in total disaster but managed to rescue the evening and have our Happy Birthday celebration and cupcake eating together as a family.  I think we may have to step it up for the little guy next year, though. 

We concluded our relaxed visit in Montreal with a smashing New Year's Eve party at my Mother in Law's place.  We welcomed 2012 by packing up our car (my husband had driven up to Ottawa closer to Christmas) and hitting the road.  Yes, we did the unthinkable.  We drove from Montreal to Washington in just under 11 hours.  We made 3 stops and powered through Quebec, New York, Pennsylvania and Maryland.  And ya know what?  The kids were awesome.  I have no idea how we all pulled it off, but we did.  Now that we know it is doable, my family may become an international road tripping kinda family.  Because we certainly aren't going to be able to keep paying the ever increasing prices for plane tickets!

I think I may have overwhelmed you with all this in one post.  But I had to get it out of my system.  Tackling this update was hanging over my head and while it may not be pretty, at least I have made it official.  I hope you had a great holiday season and I hope you have recovered from all the craziness.  All the best to you and your loved ones for an awesome, healthy and happy 2012!

The Countdown Begins

Yikes.  It's December 1st.  How did that happen?

I have officially been listening to the Holiday Music Chanel on TV and have begun the process of obsessing over the right gifts for all the people in my life.  Granted, I probably started obsessing a few weeks ago.  But now I am actually doing something about it. 

Every year I manage to forget how very time consuming Christmas shopping and general Holiday organizing can be.  It never used to be so intense, but there's something about being an official "grown up" that has added a lot of pressure.  I am generally not a materialistic and consumer driven kinda gal, but there's just no way out of the mayhem at this time of year.

The kids and I take off for Canada in 18 days and there is a whole lot going on before then.  The most exciting celebration will be next week for the babe.  My daughter, who was so recently my itty bitty baby girl, will turn 5 years old on Wednesday.  On Thursday, we will attend the annual "art night" at her school where we get to check out all the kids paintings and enjoy a pot luck dinner.  Saturday will be her birthday party at the paint your own pottery studio (the first time we are hosting her birthday outside of our home!).

My husband will celebrate his birthday on the 23rd and my son, the little guy, will turn 3 on Christmas Eve.

All this, and my husband and I get to navigate the murky waters of explaining what the Holiday Season is really about and how different folks have different celebrations around this time of year.  We need to answer questions about why we go to Church with Grandpa and Nana on Christmas Eve but no other time of year.  We have to blend the explanation of baby Jesus with the Santa hoopla.

We also have to explain/elaborate on who Santa Claus is and how he manages to get presents to all the kids around the world in one night.  It's important for me to ensure my kids enjoy the bliss of all the North Pole has to offer this time of year.  But we also explain how our family supports the homeless shelter so the people with no food or homes can have a special meal over the Holidays.  We explain how we collect canned food to give to those in need.  We also explain why we buy gifts for children who may not get much for Christmas this year (which isn't easy after you've been talking about Santa Claus). 

Really, it's a lot to explain to an almost 3 and an almost 5 year old.  There is so much information for their little brains to absorb and it is easy to get messages intertwined.  Obviously we want to share the awesome joy of the season with them, but we want to hammer home how lucky we are to have everything we do, and get across how critical it is that we help others who are not as fortunate as us.

So good luck with all the things you have to do this month.  I hope you get a second to take a deep breath and soak in the goodness the season has to offer.  Because "it's the most wonderful time of the year!"

What's In Your Bed?

There's been a lot of talk lately about bed bugs on the East Coast of North America.  It is a serious issue which is cause for concern, especially if you're a frequent traveller.  Luckily, I am not a frequent traveller, nor is my husband (I say that with a heavy heart as part of me would love to be a frequent traveller).  The concern around my house is not bed bugs, but child pee.  Yes.  Child pee.

When my husband and I were first engaged we decided to splurge on an awesome king size bed.  It is truly delicious and we love it.  Sadly, over the years, there have been many incidents where our little ones have spat up, peed, vomited, etc., etc. in our bed.  Because that's the kind of stuff that happens when you have little kids.

I had hoped we were mostly past that phase as I feel truly sorry for our beautiful bed which has been shown no mercy.  Yesterday I was reminded that we are most certainly not past that phase (silly me).  Yet again, my son, who climbs into our bed around 6 am every morning, managed to soak through his overnight diaper and leave a nice big pee spot in the middle of our mattress where we generally rest our weary heads.  He and his sister usually snuggle up and watch a 20 minute (educational) cartoon every morning while I throw myself together.  Most mornings I will change his diaper before he sits up to watch TV.  As you may have guessed, I did not do that yesterday.  I had given him a quick bum pat and decided he'd be OK for the 10 minutes it would take to throw my jeans on and brush my hair and teeth.  I came out of the bathroom to find him sitting clueless in a damp circle.

This is NOT what you want on a Monday morning after a 5 day (i.e. very, very long) weekend with your 4 person family.  So I stripped the sheets and grabbed a wet and soapy towel and tried to remedy the situation.  At this point I'm not sure what else I can do.  Our beautiful mattress has been abused for so many years, but as long as we have anyone in diapers or toilet training around this house, I suppose pee in my precious bed is a possibility I'm going to have to live with.  Not that I'm trying to make excuses.  I admit that I'm going to have to be more dedicated to the early morning diaper change.  I can't expect a sleep induced laissez-faire attitude to keep my mattress safe.  While pee isn't in the same ball park as bed bugs (thank goodness!), my mattress just can't take it anymore.

Another Holiday Celebration & Another Anniversary

First off, Happy Thanksgiving to all you Americans!  I am always thrilled to celebrate this Holiday right along with you.  While Canada celebrates Thanksgiving in October, it has always seemed like a way bigger deal here.  I enjoy all the festivities (especially our traditional smashing dinner hosted by our generous and wonderful friends I and D--thank you in advance!), but I also like taking some time to dwell on all my blessings.  I have so much to be grateful for and I'd like like to say thank you to the universe for everything I have.  Right now I am especially grateful to my husband for taking my energetic kids to the park and for the sun which has decided to shine after days and days of rain and gloom.

Secondly, I would like to tell you about a special Anniversary I am celebrating.  Last night, as my husband and I caught up on all the shows we had DVRd (is that a word?) throughout the week, I realized that it had been five years since I left my job.  The babe was due around Thanksgiving, so I had decided to work until the day before Thanksgiving and then go on official leave.  Five years ago yesterday I organized my office, said my good byes, and went home with the hopes of having a baby in a few days.  Little did I know that my baby wouldn't make her debut until December 7th.  Little did I know it was to be my last day in an office for a very long time.  And little did I know that my home would become my new "office."  There's a lot I didn't know five years ago that I know now! 

At this half decade point, I am finally relatively comfortable with the notion of being a "stay-at-home" Mama.  I take pride in all I do to keep my four person family functioning.  And while I don't know what the future holds, I know that I have made it through what have been some of the most challenging and beautiful years of my life.  And today, I am giving thanks.