The Babe

Every day provides me with numerous stories to share.  But I can't share them all because I don't have time to write them, and you don't have time to read them.

If you had asked me last night what I would be writing about today, I would not have said that I'd be gushing about how awesome, sweet and smart my daughter is (needless to say, we didn't have a good day at Casa Ryan Jyoti).

But here I am, about to share some of my daughter's awesomeness with you.

This morning we stopped off at the mail box (about 2 blocks away) on the way to school to send Grandpa's Father's Day card.  The babe loves putting the mail into the mail box, so I make an effort to involve her when the post item is something she worked on.  We dropped the card in and as we were getting back into the car, the babe shouted, "Look, Mama, it's the water truck going to our house!"  I turned around expecting to see a garbage truck or some other random truck, but indeed, it was the water truck.  And it was indeed OUR water truck as they were scheduled to come by this morning (we recently upgraded our drinking water as DC is not known for its quality tap water).  Not bad for a 3.5 year old.

Then on the car ride we were talking about the babe's old babysitter and how she'd be coming over in a few weeks because of Mama and Papa's 5 year wedding anniversary.  She asked if she could come out to dinner with us, I said no (and explained why), and then she asked me if I was going to wear a dress?  Apparently I should wear a dress because that is what you should do for wedding anniversaries....oh, and it should apparently be white.

And the last super sweet story occurred after we parked and the babe was picking random items up off the ground before getting in the stroller with her brother.  She picked up part of a leaf and said, "Look Mama, a maple syrup leaf."  Now how freakin CUTE is that???

I love my kid.

Potty Talk

For some reason I can't stop talking about bowel movements and bums this week. 

First off, a story from yesterday afternoon.  For some time our Tuesdays have revolved around activities; the little guy's music class in the morning and soccer for the babe in the afternoon.  Yesterday was our last music class for the season and we are in the process of doing make-up soccer classes for all the rainy days we've missed. 

We had another gorgeous day and I was actually pretty psyched for soccer.  I had everything ready for 3:00 pm when I leave to pick up the babe; the multiple drinks, the snacks (including some lovely cut up grapes), the ball and shin pads.  I just had to get the babe changed at home and have everyone hit the potty/diaper change one last time.  As we got close to the soccer field (later than expected), the babe started complaining her tummy hurt.  After a beautiful parallel parking job, she informed me she had to go poo.

As soccer is held at one of those nifty parks without a public bathroom, we drove off to the closest McDonald's for a potty trip (I figured they owed me after the Shrek glass recall).  I got both kids out of the car (even though the babe kept asking why we couldn't just leave the little guy while we went in), to the bathroom, and got the babe on the toilet.  She sat there (and managed to touch every gross public bathroom thing possible) and only let out a little pee.  She then declared, "I don't have to go."

ARRRRGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So we wash up, head back to the car, get buckled back into the car seats, pack up the stroller, and head back to the field.  "My tummy still hurts.....WAAAAAAA...," I hear in the back seat.  "Let's just try playing for 10 minutes and then if you want to leave, we can," I reply.  She agrees, but then keeps on complaining.  "FINE, do you want to go home and rest?" I ask.  The answer was yes.  So I turn around and we drive back home (it's close to 5:00 pm at this point).  She cried all the way.  In fact, I almost considered taking her to Children's Hospital in case her appendix was bursting or something.  But I sucked it up and we made it back in one piece.  The babe got changed, lay in her bed with her pacifiers for a few minutes, and came downstairs to declare that she was fine.  So much for soccer.

The other bum related story has to do with the little guy.  The poor kid has some pretty wicked diaper rash.  The problem is that he keeps pooping these little smudgy poops and I am constantly having to change him to avoid the situation getting worse.  This causes him so much pain he's been wailing, kicking, screaming and doing anything he can think of to try and stop me.  It is breaking my heart and I'm not sure what to do.  The skin is broken in a few places and I'm using some serious diaper cream, but I really think he just needs to stop pooping constantly so his little bum can heal.  Thoughts and suggestions are more than welcome!     

The Clock Keeps Ticking

I actually finished a book last night (Twenties Girl).  It was one of my silly escapism books that I like to indulge in.  It usually takes me a really long time to read these ones as they are always in addition to whatever parenting book I am struggling through, along with whatever my book club is reading.  And considering I don't read as much as I want, it is exciting for me to finish any book.

The thing that made me nostalgic about finishing Twenties Girl was the fact that my book mark was a breast pad, still in its original wrapper.  In fact, I found a whole box of them in the little guy's closet yesterday.  I was on a spring organizing/cleaning/sorting mission and kept coming across baby items (itty bitty blankets, spit up cloths, etc.) that I just don't need. 

And it got me to thinking; it's already been over 3 months since I weaned the little guy and I am never going to breast feed again.  After breastfeeding my 2 kids for a combined 27 months, it has already become foreign.  When I saw a few women nursing their babies at the park yesterday, I was touched by how tender, yet distant it seemed to me.

I get sentimental when I think about moving on, as much as I look forward to it. I admit I am attached to all the baby stuff and am sad when I move outgrown outfits and random items up to the attic for storage.

My kids are growing up so quickly and I am only now beginning to understand what people mean when the say it all happens so fast.  As much as I can still see them as the babes they once were, they really are both their own little people now, and I am having to navigate these relationships with a respect that didn't used to seem necessary (I don't mean that I didn't used to respect them, only that they really are "people" now).

I am so happy with our family, and so excited to watch my babies grow (in fact, the babe turned 3.5 yesterday!), but they will always be my little ones, no matter how big they get. 

Saving 30 Cents

Today was a glorious day in Washington, D.C.  A perfect spring day.  So perfect, I took the little guy to the park in the morning, and both kids to the park after school.

Per our routine, the kids stripped off their park clothes when we got home.  We all cleaned up and changed into our comfy "home" clothes.  I grabbed a diaper and one of those one piece outfits for the little guy.  But when I went to put on the diaper, the sticky tab on one side broke off.  Well, I'm not going to waste the whole 30 cent diaper because of a broken sticky tab.  So I pulled the outfit on over his head and went downstairs to find some tape.  And yes, I proceeded to tape up one side of his diaper (not very well, apparently).

After dinner the kids were watching our new Baby Signing Time DVD (thanks, K), when the babe came into the kitchen to complain that the living room was smelly.  I replied that it was probably just her brother's bum.  This kid seems to poop non-stop and the babe has gotten pretty good at letting me know when he stinks.

So I walk into the living room and am struck by a pungent odour.  Then I see the poo smeared diaper lying on the ground and the little guy walking around with a wet lower half.  It hits me like a ton of bricks.  He took off his diaper, and peed and pooed in his one piece outfit and has been walking around climbing and sitting on things.  And yes, that is a little bit of poo on his hand.  I suppose he could have been painting the walls with poo, so it wasn't as out of control as it could have been.

Off we went upstairs for clean up time.  I took off the outfit and found poo caked on the inside.  By the end of the day, this kid just stinks.  By the end of today, it was beyond stink...it's like the stink had moved in to stay.  To make matters worse, the babe managed to do a #2 while I was working on project "clean up little guy."  I have to say, it was a poop fiesta.
 
Apologies for the grossness of this entry, but being a Mom can be pretty gross.  I had a number of things I could have written about today, but for some reason, this was the nugget I wanted to share.  I'm sure I'll switch gears tomorrow!

The You Know What

This may be something I shouldn't talk about, but it's something all mothers of boys have to deal with.  The little guy recently found his you know what.  I'm not sure what you're supposed to call it on the Internet, but you know what I'm talking about.

Bath time is about the only time it's out there.  So the little guy has been enjoying getting to know this new body part and he actually thinks it's pretty funny.  The fact that it cracks him up cracks me up.

Although when I took off his clothes and diaper for bath time tonight, he reminded me of what he can do with it.  Before I had a chance to grab him and put him in the bath he managed to pee all over the floor in his room.  That didn't exactly crack me up.

I know this is the beginning of a new thing, and since I've only ever dealt with a little girl, this is going to bring up some new issues for me.  I don't even want to think about potty training.  Luckily I have a husband who can provide guidance when guidance is needed! 

Shrek Glass Recall

We never go to fast food places with the kids.  In that way, food allergies have been a blessing in disguise.  My kids just don't understand what a Happy Meal is.

However, a few weeks ago, after we all picked up soil at the gardening center, we were driving back home and made an abrupt decision to pick up a cold drink at the golden arches drive through.  They just happened to be selling Shrek themed glasses promoting the new movie.  I got a huge rush of nostalgia as I remembered the days my family used to collect themed glasses from fast food restaurants.  I convinced my husband we should get one for the babe.

It seemed like a lovely Puss in Boots glass. Very solid and a nice addition to our rather uninspired glass collection.

Then I get an email from my husband yesterday with a link to an article.  There is a recall on the Shrek themed McDonald's glasses because the paint contains a carcinogen, cadmium, which can cause bone and kidney problems in children.  REALLY?  Is anything safe?  I just wanted to get my kid a Shrek glass for crying out loud.

So I suppose that will be hitting the garbage.  That's what we get for breaking down and supporting the evil empire.

Looks like we have Rep. Jackie Spier (D-CA) to thank for this recall.

For additional information, contact McDonald's at (800) 244-6227 or visit the Consumer Product Safety Commission.

A First

Today I had my first MRI. It's just like on TV, except on TV you see the person in there for a minute and then they move on to the next scene.  In reality, half my body was in the tube for 40 minutes.  I was not allowed to move.  I was in a "superwoman" position on my stomach with one arm above my head.  It was the longest 40 minutes I've experienced in some time. 

I wasn't going to get into my recent health stuff on this blog until I had more information.  But I've now been to 3 doctors appointments, had blood work, x-rays, and now an MRI, and I just felt like sharing.

When I started weaning the little guy in January I began to notice some hand stiffness at night, usually when I was up to check on the kids or go to the bathroom.  I thought it was odd but expected it would clear up when my hormones got back to normal.  The weaning was a gradual process and was all wrapped up in March.  At this point my hands were so stiff at night I could no longer make a fist after periods of inactivity.  So I called our family doctor.

He told me it could be the beginning stages of osteoarthritis.  He did some blood work and the tests came back negative for a host of issues including lupus, Lyme disease and rheumatoid arthritis.  My doc told me to keep on eye on it and let him know if it got worse or if my hands started to swell.  I was also instructed to take Advil.

A few weeks later I decided that was not a good enough answer.  So I went to a Rheumatologist/arthritis specialist.  The new doc has put me on a whole bunch of ibuprofen as the original medication he chose was making me seriously nauseous all day.  He's now run a bunch of blood tests and x-rays and has not come up with anything (although apparently about one third of rheumatoid arthritis cases don't show up on blood tests).  So he sent me for an MRI.

I had not been overly concerned about the MRI until I saw the machine and was told what would happen over the next 45 minutes.  And the reason I have to share all this is because of the crazy thoughts that ran through my head as I lay immobile in that loud, cold, scary tube.  I worried they would find something that will affect my ability to be a Mom.  I worried that the scans will lead to more tests and eventually to some bad news.  I worried that I could have a disease that is going to get worse and worse until I can no longer take care of myself, let alone my kids.

I know as Mothers we all have these worries.  But today, lying in that machine, they all came exploding into my head.  When a tear escaped my eye I realized I had to pull it together.  So instead of worrying, I focused on trying to relax and thinking about the mocha I was going to treat myself to after I got the hell out of the tube.  And you'll appreciate that I paid for my mocha treat with the money I got back for returning my crappy dishwasher detergent.

I guess I will have to keep you all posted now...that's what I get for sharing.

Mother Earth

I care about the world my children will live in after I am gone.  And I care about the world that my grandchildren will live in after I'm gone.  You get the picture.  But when you look at the current state of affairs, it is rather disturbing (do I have to mention the words oil and spill?).

We are teaching our kids to respect the earth and I try to make environmentally responsible choices every day (although diapers are my downfall).  We don't use water bottles, we try to shop and eat responsibly, and we put in a solid effort when it comes to recycling.  One day we will get it together and make the composting thing happen as well.

But today I broke down and returned to my hard core unfriendly dishwasher gel.  I have been trying to make it work with the environmentally friendly dish detergent but keep ending up with a load of pretty dirty dishes. That doesn't seem so good for the planet considering how much water that thing must use in a cycle.

I guess I'm wondering if any of you have any good tips to share on how us Moms can be kinder to the earth?  I like easy tips...tips that real Moms can fit into their lives without much difficulty.  And does anyone know why environmentally friendly cleaning products are so lame and do you have any good recommendations for stuff that actually works??

In other news, I set up the sprinkler in the front yard this afternoon and let the kids at it (it was super hot and humid).  It was the little guy's first time in a sprinkler and it was definitely one of those priceless moments.  I guess we wasted a good chunk of water on that adventure. Whoops.

We're All Canadian, Eh

Today is an exciting day.  Not only is it my 1 month anniversary of blogging EVERY DAY (yay me!!!), but my kids got their Canadian citizenship certificates in the mail this morning!

Although in my heart I have always known they are Canadian, it is pretty cool that the Canadian government now knows that they are Canadian as well.  I feel more at ease knowing it is official.  There's a sense of relief having that critical paper work taken care of. 

It took me a while to get my act together, but I'm glad I did it (and that it only took 7 months to process).  And right in time for Canada Day on July 1st.  So here's to my family of Canadian citizens!!

The Peaceful Slumber

I know it's Tuesday, but I wanted to share a little nugget of our weekend life.  It is something so simple, and yet so special.

At my bed time (around 11pm), after I've gotten ready for my slumber, I call my husband upstairs to say good night (he always stays up later than me). 

During the weeknights we check on the kids individually, but there's something about weekend nights that encourages us to enter the kids rooms together.  We stand over their beds and stare in awe.  We fix blankets, find pacifiers, ruffle hair, give kisses, and pat legs, together.  It's amazing we don't wake them up. 

Our munchkins are so perfect, peaceful, and sweet.  It melts my heart.  The fact that my husband and I were able to create such masterpieces is truly awesome.  I don't know how we pulled it off. 

I go to sleep with a yummy, happy, "in love" kinda feeling.  Because sometimes you're just in love with your family, and it's a beautiful thing.

I owed you some positive blogging, so put this in my account for those days I have to let it all hang out!