Giving birth yields more positive results....

Y'know... sometimes going through labor and delivery is good for more than just getting the child....

Case in point, I had an appointment at the dentist's yesterday for a filling. I saw the dentist coming at me with a huge - yes, cartoonishly huge - needle that she was intending on jamming up my gums.

I wanted to bristle and pull back but started to sooth myself with "You gave birth to two children. You pushed two human beings out of your vagina. If you can do that - you can get a needle to the face."

And she poked me and it wasn't that bad.

I used the same method of "Hey - if you can give birth, you can do this!" pep talk before I got my tattoo and my nose piercing too. And it worked like sweet cuppin' cakes. I will pull out the Supermom card when I'm about to face my next moment of impending pain.

A change.

I hesitate to make an official announcement or proclamation on this as I've withdrawing on blogging about my private life and relationship status... (See Fourleafclover blog)... I've become increasingly unhappy with the airing of personal matters on the Internet so I'm pulling back a bit.

That said (or typed), I should make mention that Darth Single Mommy is back to just being Darth Mommy. Bat-Hubs and I have reconciled after nearly a year of separation.

Single Moms... you have my honor, love and respect. I was one of your ranks and really... I don't think I'll ever leave it. One doesn't go through something like this and not be changed from it. Being a single mother has brought me so much closer to my children and so much closer to me. I don't think I've ever learned as much about myself as a mother and as a person than when I was a single mom. A forced removal of my partner has jolted me back to me - like the fist of God. And it's helped me turn one of the saddest times in my life into one of the best.

Life goes on. Smiles fill my life. I'm going to live for the good and cut out the bad.

It's just juice... it's just juice.

So... it's been a long day with two toddlers that I can only lovingly describe as "handfuls" and they are happily sawing logs in their beds. I flop into bed and land on a wet spot.

I run over the events of the day... Longlegs did pee his pants once... but he also spilt his juice.

I'm so tired... I decide that it's juice... turn over and fall asleep on the wet sheets.

Free Magazines

Here is a listing of the magazines I get for free... if anyone else knows of any other publications that one can get for free - let me know!

Melt Magazine - for the cheese lover
What's Cooking - sign up for the free magazine at Kraftcanada.ca
Homebasics - Recipes and coupons
Living Well - More recipes, coupons and free samples

Three years ago you made me.

Three years ago I evicted you from your first apartment and gave birth to you, my darling son. Happy Birthday my Little Longlegs, my sweet bean sprout. Every day is a new joy whether it's the sweet shrill song that is your high pitched giggle, you painting all over your face with black nail polish, your three year old's wisdom or you finding new ways to slowly destroy our house by pulling up rugs or finding weak spots in the drywall... I can't remember life without you in it. I am honored and beyond blessed that I can spend these precious days at home with you and Sweetpea.

"Can I have Happy Birthday, now?" you asked me this morning.

For breakfast on your birthday - March 13th - my dear little Pisces is going to have chocolate cupcakes.

Remembering baby torture.

When Longlegs had pneumonia when he was just some-odd months old I was pretty frantic. He had a high fever for x number of days and was breaking out in a crazy Dalmatian rash (I took pictures) and phoned my doctor for an appointment. They said she couldn't see him for another week. I described his temperature, how long it had been going on, the rash... she said she'd phone me back. Phoned me back an hour later and said "Can you bring him in now?"

It's one of my most unhappiest memories with my little baby boy... they sent him to another floor to get x-rayed. Even tho' I was freshly pregnant and had stopped breastfeeding I tried to give him something to eat but he just wouldn't eat - all he would do was sleep while I waited for another hour in another waiting room.

Now, the tube that meds jam an infant into to x-ray them is something like a torture device from a Saw movie, particularly to a mother.

Longlegs was already sick - then I was told to strip him down to his diaper and place him in this tube that jammed his little arms as high as they could go above his head... it looked painful and was already starting to scream. Then the tech closed him in the tube that fit him so tight he could hardly wiggle... then I was to step ten feet away, put on a lead vest and watch my little baby boy going out of his mind with terror, naked and painfully pinned into a tube. He cried so hard he was giving himself a nosebleed. I felt like throwing up.

Now, I know why the device was designed the way it was - makes perfect sense - have to hold the child's arms up so you can get a clear shot of the lungs (the x-ray showed the doctor that he indeed had pneumonia) but I just keeping thinking of it as a baby torture device.

What a horrible day that was. Ah, memories.

Canadian Family Regret

Lois Lane is an opinionated, assertive journalist. She writes aggressively, from the heart and is unapologetic.

I am so not Lois Lane. I think I am just about her direct opposite.

Maybe I forgot to take some of my vitamins yesterday because man alive... reading that magazine was putting me in a royal huff! I was Miss Huffy from Huffington, wasn't I? My apologies, I'm not usually so forthright with my personal views.

If you don't like the song, switch the station. If you don't like the magazine - put it down. The interent makes itself quite attractively available for people to whine and rail against things that they feel rub them the wrong way... I think I fell into that briar patch a little bit.

I may not listen to country music, for example - but I honestly have no problem with people who do. The same goes for Bugaboos and SUVs. That is how I honestly and truly feel. I felt like I was coming off as judgemental and not accepting of other's lifestyle choices - and that's not really me. I was just expressing an opinion but I think I crossed the line from expression to bitching and that's not cool, not for me anyway.

Ha - and I know there's not alot of reason for me to be writing any sort of retraction post other than the fact that since I posted "The Rant" it's been chewing at the back of my brain all day and all morning.... feeling all guilty and stuff. I feel better now.

Canadian Family Rant

Okay... I feel like ranting a bit... so I'm going to let myself go... a bit. Loosen some strings, let this calm, cool and collected demeanor melt ever so slightly.

During the kid's nap (term used loosely) I decided not to take my Gameboy DS into the bath with me (what's better for unwinding than a hot peppermint oil bath and dragon slaying?) and instead opted to finally flip through the latest issue of Canadian Family that I had in the house - the March 2009 issue.

As I got closer and closer to the end of the magazine I was feeling more and more disenfranchised, more distant and even (and quite unnecessarily) a little angry. What I came away with was that this magazine, while targeted at moms was definitely not targeted at me!

The opening editorial set the tone. When the editor had her first child she had never heard of things like Bugaboos and Lululemon before and boy oh boy did she have a lot to learn about being a mom! And thanks to a recent baby boom on her block there are more Bugaboos than SUV's and every mom is wearing Lululemon.

I think I threw up a little in my mouth.... perhaps that's wasn't what she meant but my skin crawled a bit when I processed the message that she equated what she had to learn about motherhood to words like Bugaboo, Lululemon and even SUV. And yaaaay - isn't it nice that everyone on the block has the same expensive trendy stuff here.

Sorry... sorry... I know, I know. It got my panties in a knot. I just wish more people were interested in individuality than the status quo. And I feel awkward about even typing that... like I'm putting myself on a pedestal... y'know... "Hey everybody, wear your individuality like a shield! Like I do!"... right, that's what it sounds like.

I don't mean for it to come off that way. I'm just feeling judgemental today. If everyone on her block wants to equate parenthood to brand names they're not hurting anyone and I should... and will... back off. I've never been one to try and push my views on others. But I will allow myself a little rant.

So - recap. Opening article. I go "Ew".

It got better, so to speak. The whole issue was jam packed with things you should buy. Things you need. As a girl who would rather go to Value Village than Sears this just wasn't speaking to me. Trendy bib set (containing only one bib) starting at only $34! (How about the four bibs that I got at the local Mennonite thrift store for $1.. that also covered more area on the child than the one that was being modeled in the magazine.) The hottest colors for your household's spring makeover, clocks starting at $40, cool lime great chairs starting running over $2000, a fun gorilla pillow for your child's bedroom starting at $34...

And throughout the whole magazine - one coupon for 50 cents off Dawn dish detergent. Well, that certainly helps... I would love to save 50 cents after purchasing a $34 bib. This obviously isn't a magazine geared towards Moms who love to save money or who prefer to buy used instead of buying new.

It was a gift subscription. When it runs out - I won't be renewing. It really felt like there were cramming a silver spoon in my mouth and telling me that I wanted it there when I really don't. That's just not me. I've always been more Roseanne than Frasier.

There were two articles of note. One was entitled "How to Lose a Friend in Nine Months" that spoke of how friendships change when one of the friends goes through a major life change - in this case, parenthood.

The other wasn't so much the whole article... just a picture with the bold font under it reading "A parent's own anxiety can be passed along to her children. If the child is vulnerable and the parent is anxious, it's a very explosive combination." What I took from that was "Hey Moms. Calm the eff down. Mellow out. It's okay... repeat after me... it's oooookkkay."

So my mellow returned to me after a hearty poke in the ribs from the Universe. I laughed - tossed the magazine on a pile of dirty laundry and forgave everyone for their Bugaboos and SUVs. (I know, how magnanimous of me.) Then I got back to the lovely business of living my life and cutting cheese and oranges for my monster's snack.

And because I'm making a conscience decision not to hold anyone's SUV or what it represents against them - I hope I don't get branded a hypocrite when one day I go out and treat myself to something nice and new.

Sharing the free luv.

Who is on a limited budget? *Raises hand* Who likes free stuff? *Raises hand*

Thought I'd share some of what I discovered today.. while the offer is still good, of course. That and it's been an era and a half since I updated my blogs.

Free Kirkland Diaper Sample
Free Goody Hair Barettes
Join the Huggies Savings Club

Sweetpea & Longlegs

A picture in watercolours of my little Sweetpea and Longlegs; happy in crayonland. The scan sucks but... ah well. I'm just happy I finished it. I'm not going cry over spilt scans.

Literal, not Metaphorical.

Today was a poopy day. The poopiest in recent history. Woke up to find Longlegs with poop up his back and down his legs... poop like that I haven't enjoyed since he was an infant. It was more than mere baby wipes could handle. I hosed him off in the bathtub... I know I should have endeavored to wipe most of him off and then washed him in the tub but it was first thing in the morning, I'm groggy...tired... a little dizzy still... so I had him stand in the bathtub while I watched an unreal amount of poop fall down in gobs and slide down the drain.

Then, right before their afternoon nap... Sweetpea pooped the same way. Up the back, down the legs. I peeled her diaper back a few centimeters before I put it back on, peeled her out of her poopy cloths, carried her to the tub, peeled off the diaper and replayed the same bath hose-down.

Got them up from their nap two hours later and was greeted with the same poo-splosion on/in both children! Up the back, the front and down the legs.

I'm not naturally prone to outbursts but I nearly had a WTF moment!!!

Peel them out of their nap jammies... carry them both to the tub.... hose them both down again.

Geez Luis.... next time I'm tempted to use a coupon for a "Buy One Get One Free" from McDonalds and treat me and the kids with a meal out.... remind me of this day. Not only will we all eat healthier but I'll save on my water bill too.

Lessons from Mommyland.

Today's lesson in Mommyland: Sometimes you just have to put both children down for a nap (clean diapers, jammies they can't tear off, well fed... check, check, check) and walk away and ignore 40 minutes of "MOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMYMOMMMYMOMMY!" if you hope to have your first moments of the day to yourself to bathe, relax your stiff back, get dressed and brush your hair.

Date Night.

Sweetpea is a snotty sick little angel... so she went to be extra early with her new best friend, the humidifier and was glad for it. Longlegs earned a special treat and got to stay up late with Mommy. We made popcorn and watched nearly all of "The Wizard of Oz". Quite a feat for a 2.5 year old. His favorite scenes were when the Cowardly Lion cried (he kept asking me if I could make the Lion better) and any scene that included The Wicked Witch. He loves villains.

Best part of the day. Snuggling on the fold out sofa-bed with my little man. Feeling him cuddle his body up against my side and under my armpit. Watching his little hands meticulously pick out which piece of popcorn he was going to eat next. Answering his questions about what happens now in the movie. Indulging him when his wet fingers tried to feed me a piece of popcorn. Feeling him snuggle into me harder when the Witch did something scary.

I felt the best I had all day. I felt like I was on a date. I can't wait until Sweetpea has the necessary attention span to join us and make it a family date night. These moments fuel me.

Breastmilk. Cupcakes. Tuna Boots.

I had a dream last night that I started to breastfeed my children again. I just opened my shirt for them and they knew what to do. And thankfully, they didn't bite. After some sucking I felt that familiar tingle and my body started to produce milk again for them. It felt so good again and upon waking.... I missed it. Food from my body. I'll never know that joy again.

Longlegs and I made "Chocolate Chip Cupcakes" this morning and he surprised me by only eating half of his first muffin and asking if we could make Pumpkin Muffins next time. Guess all the healthy snacks are starting to pay off. :D

I placed a bowl of tuna water for the cat upon the basement stairs this afternoon.... the basement stairs that protected with a baby gate. Then my little angels rapscallions spent a good ten minutes throwing shoes and boots at the bowl seeing if they could overturn it. One of them succeeded with my winter boot. Now the stair - and my boot - smell of tuna.

Ah, the joys of motherhood. I am honored.

Not alone.

So... I distracted myself from a childless Christmas afternoon (no, no... I'm not moping about it. They came back this evening are all bathed and are sawing logs in their bedroom as I type this) by watching "Pan's Labyrinth" with my father. Fantastic movie... I had never seen it until today. A heavy watch tho'... I brought my sketchpad with me and figured I'd get some drawing in while I watching it and not having the little ones tugging the pad and pencil out of my hands. (My drawing time, as one can imagine, is severely limited.) But I never did get to draw... not only is the film subtitled but it's also one of those films you have to actually watch. Blink and you'll have missed something clever... or just plain cool.

This one scene floated above the rest and made a mental tattoo out of itself. The protagonist, a little girl named Opelia is laying in bed with her mother. Her mother remarried and her stepfather is quite a cruel man. Opelia asks her mother (paraphrasing, I don't have the screenplay in front of me) "Why did you have to get married?" Her mother answers "I have been alone for too long." Opelia whimpers and cuddles into her mother and responds with emotion... "You were never alone! You have me!"

One can understand why this scene resonates with me so strongly... unless one is particularly daft.

When I am tempted to wrap my arms around myself and charge my battery on emotions like self pity and loneliness... I don't have to look very far to realize that I am not alone.

Dear Longlegs and Sweetpea,

Oh, my sweet angel loves. Another weekend is upon me and you are gone. Day in, day out: it’s just the three of us. You keep me going when I don’t want to go. Sometimes between breakfast, play, cleanup, potty breaks, accidents, wet pants, more play, lunch, poops, puddles on the floor, fights, whining, crying, more wet pants, hugging, naps, snacks, more play, bathtime, bedtime, bedtime stalls…. There’s barely any room for me in there!

I have been told that with children… you just hold on and survive for the first five years. I have also been told that having a two year old in the house is like having a walking blender without a lid on. (Looks like I have two blenders running around.) I have also been told that having birthed children is like having your heart ripped out of your chest and watching it walk around. All are true.

You exhaust me. I regret to say that in the arsenic hour that is sixty minutes prior to bedtime, your poor mother is counting down the minutes… looking forward to flopping down in the chair and breathing in and out… slowly. And somehow I’m supposed to turn these precious few evening hours into personal productivity or cleanup from the day’s events… when all I want to do is nap.

But Saturday is upon us – and you are gone for your weekend visit. Suddenly the house is colder… quieter… lonelier. You’ve plugged up my heart and in your collective absence I feel the hole again. The emotions don’t run out water from a bursting dam anymore… but there is a slow drip of pain… always, when you’re not here to cork me up. Distract me. Love me.

Damn this bond that ties mother to her offspring. This sacred bond. I am missing you so. I am told to treasure this time to myself and in truth I do – for I have always treasured my alone time… but soon I will busy myself figuring out what I’m going to make you for your first meal back, putting away all your toys on the shelf, picking up the oatmeal muffin crumbs you left all over the floor when you typhooned all over the house this morning. I can’t wait until you are back home, when I can wipe the poop from your bums, clean your dirty noses, wipe your tears and all other motherly tasks that I undertake with a glad and grateful heart. For you are the best job I’ve ever had. I am your most willing and humble slave. I am an eager worker forced into temporary retirement when all want is my purpose back again.

I will spend a few moments weeping. Then I will commense with the distraction, the grocery shopping… the drawing. I will do my best to make you proud and use this time wisely until I’m counting down the minutes when you’re home and rubbing your snot into my shoulder again.

Love always,
Mommy.

Epilogue: Worry not. Melancholy may be a frequent friend but it is not bosom companion. A hot bath and some Gameboy is great therapy.

Actual Conversation.

I actually had this conversation with my one year old daughter this morning as I changed her diaper.

"Holy Spit, Sweetpea! Did you even digest that? And why can someone so cute make something smell so bad?"

"Gaaaaa!"

"Geez Luis.... there's poppy seeds everywhere! Holy Cow... how did you get all those poppy seeds up your lady bits, little missy?"

*Shrugs* "Blaaa maaamaaa?"

"Y'know... Mommy doesn't get poppy seeds up her lady bits because she uses the potty like a big girl."

"Maaaamaaa."

I cleaned her up, put on a nice clean diaper, pulled her pants back up and sent her on her way.... and then sat back and reflected on the strangeness of motherhood... and that I actually uttered the words "Mommy doesn't get poppy seeds up her lady bits." Wow.

Better Moments. Best Moments.

If it's not busy night and there are no calls from work (I do tech-support from home for side income) then usually the bedtime routine, after bathtime, is milk... storytime... then put Sweetpea down to bed.

Then Longlegs and I stay up, have a little snack, cuddle in the rocking chair under the "multicoloured blankie" and watch an episode of Fraggle Rock. He's enjoying it so much I think I have to find more Muppets on DVD. Doesn't hurt me any.... Jim Henson was a wonderful man and I am honored to watch the work he left behind.

He ate his small bowl of popcorn... drank his milk... then cuddled under the multicoloured blankie, tucked his head under my armpit and whispered, unbidden; "I love you."

It doesn't matter that he's told me before... tonight it was particularly beautiful.

These are the moments where time stops. I think it must be what beautiful death would be like. Everything goes silent... slightly white. Then your heart beats a little faster and your body starts pumping out whatever cocktail it is that makes you feel tingly and grateful for everything that brought you to this point.

I kissed his curly hair... taking in the smell of Johnson's Extra Conditioning Baby Shampoo. When these beautiful moments of heaven are yours.... why would you want for anything else?

On a side note... I think it's a travesty that the Blogger spellchecker doesn't like 'Fraggle'.

Maybe I need a good spanking.

One of those days where I feel like the world's worst mother. Ever have those?

I spanked my boy. He was being quite obstinate and after about half an hour of screaming in bed at the top of his lungs and keeping his sister awake and my headache growing - I marched in there and told him if he wasn't going to be quiet in bed then he was going to get a spanking. And then because I said it - I followed through.

He was quiet afterwords. And I feel like dirt. Lower than low. I laid a hand to my boy. Now granted, I was spanked many a time in my childhood and I think I turned out fine, fair and usually pretty mellow and gentle... but it doesn't stop me from feeling like a monster. I try really, really hard to not spank. We use the "naughty chair" and do time outs. Anything to help me avoid spanking. My brain tells me I'm being loving and disciplining him properly. My heart tells me I'm an abusive monster.

I've spent a good twenty minutes crying about it, actually.

If the punishment is harder on the parent than it is on the child... is it worth doing?

Sometimes I'm judgemental.

I saw a sight today that made me sad.. you know, you try not to judge how other people parent their children... but I did it... I saw, I judged and I mentally "tsk tsk"ed and thought about how I would never do that. But then I snapped out of that mode and reminded myself that my opinions are my own and you can never truly judge someone... particularly if you've done nothing in regards to "walking in their shoes."

That aside, I was at the local Mennonite thrift store and saw a little girl child, no bigger than my Longlegs (who is tall for his age so length isn't a good indicator of age...) trying to climb up the side of a shopping cart. Her mother was not nearby but instead paying for her purchases.

The shopping cart came tumbling over and pinned the little girl to the floor. She burst out in a wail of pain and fright. A nearby elderly patron started to pull the cart off her with an "Are you okay?"

Her mother came storming over, pulled the cart to the side and yanked the girl up by her arm.

"I told you not to do that! I told you! Maybe now you'll listen."

And she pulled her crying daughter up to the cashier with her.

Now... perhaps this mother was having a bad day. Perhaps her day was just one frustration after another and this was the last feather in her cap and she just had to explode to let some of the tension out. Maybe, maybe, maybe. And I know it's unfair of me to step back, judge and think of myself as "the better parent".

Still... I walked out of the store feeling sad. I made a mental note to give my children a big hug and kiss.