Terrible Two's is an understatement.
It should be called the apocolyptic two's.
Or the absolute-edge-of-sanity-two's
Or the one-more-day-like-this-and-I'm-going-to-shoot-myself-in-the-face-two's.
You catch my drift.
It's amazing how sweet and kind and bright little Carter is. Sometimes I look at the two of us together and I have myself convinced that I am doing a great job; I am the best mom in the world. Eat your heart out. Sometimes I see him holding hands with Mike, walking through the parking lot into the grocery store and my heart just swells with pride and love.
Sometimes.
Other times, I have days like today. The whining and nagging and screaming starts at 8 in the morning and does not relent until 8 at night. No matter what I do. I make every effort in the world to please my son. Oftentimes, I go overboard and make life far too easy for him, sometimes I know I don't discipline him, sometimes I give him treats even though he's being a total brat just to shut him up. But I also know that I am a cool mom and I am always trying something new to keep him entertained and engaged, and I always try to incorporate education into all of our activities. I am not perfect, not by a long shot. And on days like today, that is never more evident.
I took the short man and the baby (baby strapped to my chest, 2 year old holding my hand) to the grocery store up the street to get tomatoes and onions. I've done this on good days and everything's gone fine. Great, even. But today was bad. He insisted that we take his lightning mcqueen car, and then he insisted on pushing it on the sidewalk alllllllll the way to the grocery store. Fine, whatever. I guess. Oliver is teething so he's not being an angel either, but whatever, he's pushing the car, everything's fine. We eventually get there. Carter is grabbing all kinds of fruit and yum yum's, as he calls every sugary thing he can find, and just dropping random shit all aver the grocery store. I pick some things up, but having 20 pounds strapped to your chest and a 2-year old who won't hold your hand is severely limiting when you never excercise and you smoke cigarettes, so some things just stay on the ground. And some tomatoes end up beside the baby food. What? I'm not super-woman. I'm just trying to get through a grocery trip sp I can make my hard-working husband some dinner for a change.
Eventually, I wrangle the three of us to the express lane; all the while wondering what happened to the sweet little baby that I gave life to in March 2010. Then, as Carter spots the Kinder eggs, I realize that that sweet little baby is gone. My 2 year old terror is now asserting his own independence in a world that just doesn't agree with him. But, remembering that we handicap our children when we make life easy for them, I choose the tantrum over giving in. What a scene.
Dirty looks from every direction. 3 people ahead of me in line while I just pray that not every last one of them is paying with debit (which they are) while Carter throws himself on the floor kicking and screaming and embarrassing me. Sticking to my guns. No matter what. He runs, I run, baby starts crying because he has smacked his head into my bonier-than-normal collarbones as I pick up Carter and now have to carry over 50 pounds, plus a full grocery bag 6 blocks home.
Yippee.
Carter is freaking out the entire way home and when we get there, I remember my mother's tried and true method and I carry that little bugger all the way upstairs and into his bed. And I say to him you get all of your crying out, and when you're nice and calm you come out of your room and give mommy a kiss, okay?
Well it wasn't 40 seconds later whan he emerges from his room, red and bleary-eyed and looking for some kisses. Nice and calm.
For about 10 minutes.
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Thursday, June 7, 2012
The Time The Dresser Fell On Carter
This morning was a morning like any other morning. I woke up, dreading what lie ahead of me for the day. The whining. The refusing to eat. The long walk to the park. More whining. Long walk home from the park. More refusing to eat. Begging for freezies. Begging to help me with the laundry. Throwing shit. Drawing on shit. Carter being Carter. No day is ever easy, but I weather the storms like any other stay-at-home mother. AND - say what you will, it is MUCH harder to be a stay-at-home mother than it is to be a mother who has a day job. I just had to get that off my chest.
So actually, all in all, the morning was going well. Oliver was happy (Oliver is always happy) and Carter wasn't whining too much, and I was thinking about packing a picnic and heading to Gage Park with the kids and the dog. I decided to mull it over in the shower. I put Ollie in his crib to watch his Ocean Wonders aquarium, and Carter just had the run of the house as usual. Cars was on. So I have myself a shower. I'm conditioning my hair and singing Psycho Killer, and then I hear screaming. Not regular run-of-the-mill-Carter-being-a- shithead kind of screaming, but painful screaming. I take a second to process the fact that I'm really wet and naked and I have no idea what's going on or where it's happening, and I just poke my head out and I notice that Oliver's dresser is... not upright.
I make a mad dash. I am totally naked. Carter is wedged between Ollive's crib and dresser, and the weight of the dresser is pretty well just resting against his forehead. I'm being calm. I am aware that when you make a big deal out of these things, it tends to scare kids and make things a million times worse for them. So I'm the hero. I lift the dresser with one hand and scoop out my baby with the other. I check him over for any serious damage. He has a mark across his temple and his eye, it might turn into a black eye. But he seems okay.
I, however, am not okay.
I call everyone whose number I know by heart. My baby just got crushed by a piece of furniture and I have to get him to the hospital! Horrible things are running through my head! Concussions! Internal bleeding! Aneurisms! Ebola! You name it - and no one answers the phone. I have no money for a cab and now I'm just angry because I know that certain people I've called are deliberately ignoring my call. So I turn to facebook and make a big, embarrassing, F-bome-ridden status update that I later deleted pleading for help. Everything is fine at this point - Carter is eating a freezie and just being a little sooky because his new jungle gym fell on him. Shit happens. He's being a champ about it.
But you know what happened? My not-as-close-as-we-should-be friend Katrina called me and offered to drive us to emerge, and just check on us to see if everything's okay. And that meant a lot to me. And even though I'm not extending my deepest gratitude in a traditional way, I am broadcasting it on my blog and I'm sure she'll read this and know that it meant the world. I am going to make myself a good friend to her - even if she doesn't want me to.
And throughout the day, an outpouring of concern and similar "bad mother" stories flooded my facebook inbox, from some rather surprising sources. And I learned a couple of valuable lessons today.
1. Dressers should be anchored.
2. Some family members may not answer the phone because they have a headache, or because they have the flu for the tenth time this week, or because they're scared you want to bring your busy, loud little boy over to interrupt their TV show (I'm not talking about my parents, who are wonderful grandparents who happen to be in another province today)
3. Freezies are a magic cure-all.
4. Support can come from unexpected places and...
5. It's time to be a better friend.
OH! And also,
6. It may be better to shower before bed rather than in the mroning, because all the bad shit goes down as soon as I turn my back for 5 seconds. Of course.
Thanks, guys.
So actually, all in all, the morning was going well. Oliver was happy (Oliver is always happy) and Carter wasn't whining too much, and I was thinking about packing a picnic and heading to Gage Park with the kids and the dog. I decided to mull it over in the shower. I put Ollie in his crib to watch his Ocean Wonders aquarium, and Carter just had the run of the house as usual. Cars was on. So I have myself a shower. I'm conditioning my hair and singing Psycho Killer, and then I hear screaming. Not regular run-of-the-mill-Carter-being-a- shithead kind of screaming, but painful screaming. I take a second to process the fact that I'm really wet and naked and I have no idea what's going on or where it's happening, and I just poke my head out and I notice that Oliver's dresser is... not upright.
I make a mad dash. I am totally naked. Carter is wedged between Ollive's crib and dresser, and the weight of the dresser is pretty well just resting against his forehead. I'm being calm. I am aware that when you make a big deal out of these things, it tends to scare kids and make things a million times worse for them. So I'm the hero. I lift the dresser with one hand and scoop out my baby with the other. I check him over for any serious damage. He has a mark across his temple and his eye, it might turn into a black eye. But he seems okay.
I, however, am not okay.
I call everyone whose number I know by heart. My baby just got crushed by a piece of furniture and I have to get him to the hospital! Horrible things are running through my head! Concussions! Internal bleeding! Aneurisms! Ebola! You name it - and no one answers the phone. I have no money for a cab and now I'm just angry because I know that certain people I've called are deliberately ignoring my call. So I turn to facebook and make a big, embarrassing, F-bome-ridden status update that I later deleted pleading for help. Everything is fine at this point - Carter is eating a freezie and just being a little sooky because his new jungle gym fell on him. Shit happens. He's being a champ about it.
But you know what happened? My not-as-close-as-we-should-be friend Katrina called me and offered to drive us to emerge, and just check on us to see if everything's okay. And that meant a lot to me. And even though I'm not extending my deepest gratitude in a traditional way, I am broadcasting it on my blog and I'm sure she'll read this and know that it meant the world. I am going to make myself a good friend to her - even if she doesn't want me to.
And throughout the day, an outpouring of concern and similar "bad mother" stories flooded my facebook inbox, from some rather surprising sources. And I learned a couple of valuable lessons today.
1. Dressers should be anchored.
2. Some family members may not answer the phone because they have a headache, or because they have the flu for the tenth time this week, or because they're scared you want to bring your busy, loud little boy over to interrupt their TV show (I'm not talking about my parents, who are wonderful grandparents who happen to be in another province today)
3. Freezies are a magic cure-all.
4. Support can come from unexpected places and...
5. It's time to be a better friend.
OH! And also,
6. It may be better to shower before bed rather than in the mroning, because all the bad shit goes down as soon as I turn my back for 5 seconds. Of course.
Thanks, guys.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
a bow and arrow.
That's it, the kid is a year old now. And I haven't uploaded pictures yet. Whatever, I'll do it when I feel like it. It's a huge pain in the ass because I don't have the USB cable (and haven't since I got the camera) so.. I don't want to explain it. Just trust me that it's a real bitch to upload photos.
I am (obviously) very congratulatory of myself for surviving an entire year of motherhood! And I am thriving! I'm doing so much better than I thought I would, and Carter is surprisingly well-adjusted. Hitting milestones in a timely fashion, smiling more than any other baby I've ever seen, saying BABYCAKES (he says it, I swear to you. Sounds like GAY KAY, but he's saying BABYCAKES). Mike and I are still in love with each other. I'm exactly the size I was before I got pregnant (except for the bingo arms. I do have a slight case of the bingo arms). At any rate, I did it guys!
This got me thinking about what my role is as a parent.
We were at Sears today and I was giving Carter some water to drink, and it dawned on me: he doesn't belong to me. He stopped belonging to me the second that cord was cut. I was his way in to the world. I was the vessel that carried him to his first breath, and that is what my purpose has been. It's not as sad as it sounds. I want him to be his own person. I don't want to own his feelings, or his thoughts, and I don't need to feel heartbroken when he sets off on a life of his own, without me. This will eventually happen, of course.
He is the arrow. And I am the bow. And my job is of tantamount importance. I steadily hold myself. I take aim for as far as I possibly can. And only when my aim is perfect and I am confident in my shot do I take it. And that's what parenting is, to me. Well, of course it's a lot more complicated than that, but that is the best metaphor I can think of. A bow and an arrow. One is hopeless without the other, and yet they are mutually exclusive and separate pieces altogether.
I think if people thought about things the way my over-reaching mind thinks of things, they would probably take their positions in life a lot more seriously.
I am (obviously) very congratulatory of myself for surviving an entire year of motherhood! And I am thriving! I'm doing so much better than I thought I would, and Carter is surprisingly well-adjusted. Hitting milestones in a timely fashion, smiling more than any other baby I've ever seen, saying BABYCAKES (he says it, I swear to you. Sounds like GAY KAY, but he's saying BABYCAKES). Mike and I are still in love with each other. I'm exactly the size I was before I got pregnant (except for the bingo arms. I do have a slight case of the bingo arms). At any rate, I did it guys!
This got me thinking about what my role is as a parent.
We were at Sears today and I was giving Carter some water to drink, and it dawned on me: he doesn't belong to me. He stopped belonging to me the second that cord was cut. I was his way in to the world. I was the vessel that carried him to his first breath, and that is what my purpose has been. It's not as sad as it sounds. I want him to be his own person. I don't want to own his feelings, or his thoughts, and I don't need to feel heartbroken when he sets off on a life of his own, without me. This will eventually happen, of course.
He is the arrow. And I am the bow. And my job is of tantamount importance. I steadily hold myself. I take aim for as far as I possibly can. And only when my aim is perfect and I am confident in my shot do I take it. And that's what parenting is, to me. Well, of course it's a lot more complicated than that, but that is the best metaphor I can think of. A bow and an arrow. One is hopeless without the other, and yet they are mutually exclusive and separate pieces altogether.
I think if people thought about things the way my over-reaching mind thinks of things, they would probably take their positions in life a lot more seriously.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Dear Carter
So I was staring into your crib last night and I was thinking about life and death. And I started wondering if I'm scared to die or not. I know I'm going to die someday; long before you, if I'm lucky. I am not scared of death, I decided, but I am scared that I am not appreciating my life as much as I could be. And I don't mean that I wish I accomplished everything I thought I would when I was a little girl. This is a waste of time: I am not that person anymore. When I say appreciating life what I mean is: If I died today, would I have played with you enough? Will I have left enough love behind for you that you will always know you had a mother who would have done anything for you? Should we be cuddling every second of every day?
I suspect that no matter how many hours cuddling or playing or reading to you in bed I log, it will never be enough for me. That's the sad realization I came to last night while I was gazing at your snotty face, watching you sleep. I did this thing. I had you. It's something that almost every woman will go do at some point, having a child. But it probably feels like the same thing to them too - like they just did this incredible thing and nothing they ever do after the deed is done will ever measure up to the standards that this perfect little creature has demanded of you. You are magical. With you in my life, nothing I ever do could be considered a waste. I hate to put this on you, because I know it's kind of heavy, but I live for you. After I squeezed you out (and squeezed I did) you became the center of the world. I would like to thank you for saving me from myself.
This blog is here, primarily, for you. It is here so that one day - even though I will have changed and probably start lying to you the way mothers seem to end up lying to their children - you will read this blog and you will know who your mother was. Who she really was. Or is. Whatever. I have always longed to have known who my parents really are as people, and not just my parents, but that ship has sailed. If for some reason I shouldn't be around anymore to give you everything you need, you have all of my neurotic crap to read to remind you that I love you. That I have a sense of humour about life and also a very tragic way of relating things.
You're in your play pen. Standing up and staring at me, and chewing on the edge of it with your 4 new top teeth. Your nose has been running for 4 days solid and today you had zoodles, baloney and cheese for lunch. And I am going to take you out of the play pen now, and we will go have a nap together. Because I'll be damned if I'm going to take this precious time with you for granted. My beautiful boy.
I suspect that no matter how many hours cuddling or playing or reading to you in bed I log, it will never be enough for me. That's the sad realization I came to last night while I was gazing at your snotty face, watching you sleep. I did this thing. I had you. It's something that almost every woman will go do at some point, having a child. But it probably feels like the same thing to them too - like they just did this incredible thing and nothing they ever do after the deed is done will ever measure up to the standards that this perfect little creature has demanded of you. You are magical. With you in my life, nothing I ever do could be considered a waste. I hate to put this on you, because I know it's kind of heavy, but I live for you. After I squeezed you out (and squeezed I did) you became the center of the world. I would like to thank you for saving me from myself.
This blog is here, primarily, for you. It is here so that one day - even though I will have changed and probably start lying to you the way mothers seem to end up lying to their children - you will read this blog and you will know who your mother was. Who she really was. Or is. Whatever. I have always longed to have known who my parents really are as people, and not just my parents, but that ship has sailed. If for some reason I shouldn't be around anymore to give you everything you need, you have all of my neurotic crap to read to remind you that I love you. That I have a sense of humour about life and also a very tragic way of relating things.
You're in your play pen. Standing up and staring at me, and chewing on the edge of it with your 4 new top teeth. Your nose has been running for 4 days solid and today you had zoodles, baloney and cheese for lunch. And I am going to take you out of the play pen now, and we will go have a nap together. Because I'll be damned if I'm going to take this precious time with you for granted. My beautiful boy.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Merry Merry Happy Happy!
I'm spoiling my son.
I totally am. I'm ruining him completely, OMG I don't want to be a terrible mother but I hate when he cried HOW DOES ANYONE MANAGE?!
I've been bad for taking the path of least resistance when it comes to Carter since day one.
Remember when I had to keep him in the Snugli all day, every day?
Remember when he was teething and I let him sleep with us because I couldn't listen to him cry in utter despairing loneliness and pain all night long?
I am a sucker.
And today, I bought him a toy at Sears just to shut him up. And it didn't even work.
Sigh. But I love him and he knows exactly how to get what he wants out of me.
Anyway, this is also a note to say MERRY CHRISTMAS to all my readers. I have been pretty chincey with the posts lately, but Christmas preparations have kept me super busy and much too tired to come up with blogging material. I know what you're thinking; you actually have to think up this bullshit? Yes.
Oh! I went into Zara for the first time ever the other day. Looky:
: o !!!!!!!
I don't know when I became this superficial fashion whore but I suspect my time spent as a stay at home mommy has something to do with it.
Anyway, merry christmas and I love you.
I totally am. I'm ruining him completely, OMG I don't want to be a terrible mother but I hate when he cried HOW DOES ANYONE MANAGE?!
I've been bad for taking the path of least resistance when it comes to Carter since day one.
Remember when I had to keep him in the Snugli all day, every day?
Remember when he was teething and I let him sleep with us because I couldn't listen to him cry in utter despairing loneliness and pain all night long?
I am a sucker.
And today, I bought him a toy at Sears just to shut him up. And it didn't even work.
Sigh. But I love him and he knows exactly how to get what he wants out of me.
Anyway, this is also a note to say MERRY CHRISTMAS to all my readers. I have been pretty chincey with the posts lately, but Christmas preparations have kept me super busy and much too tired to come up with blogging material. I know what you're thinking; you actually have to think up this bullshit? Yes.
Oh! I went into Zara for the first time ever the other day. Looky:
: o !!!!!!!
I don't know when I became this superficial fashion whore but I suspect my time spent as a stay at home mommy has something to do with it.
Anyway, merry christmas and I love you.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Someone Pour Me a Drink.
Sigh.
It isn't easy being me.
I get up way sooner than I would like to, every single day. I hang out with a baby who is very hard to please all day long. Then I go hang out with about 25 kids who bounce off the walls and cry at the drop of a hat for 2 hours. Then I come home and cook something that requires a lot of effort and love (I have been making wonderful french meals lately), then I do all the dishes. Then I bathe Carter. Then I tidy up the basement and have a glass of wine and sit down for about an hour before going to bed and doing it allllllll over again.
Don't get me wrong. I am not feeling sorry for myself. But I will say that I am very much looking forward to Mother's Day. I'm taking the whole day off. And I will spend the day downtown by myself, doing whatever the hell I want. All day long.
But for now, I am running on this hamster wheel for better or for worse.
At least I've been watching some good movies.
Above is the trailer for a movie called Helen, which I watched yesterday and cried throughout. It was the most realistic portrayal of depression I have ever seen in a movie. I recommend it!
It isn't easy being me.
I get up way sooner than I would like to, every single day. I hang out with a baby who is very hard to please all day long. Then I go hang out with about 25 kids who bounce off the walls and cry at the drop of a hat for 2 hours. Then I come home and cook something that requires a lot of effort and love (I have been making wonderful french meals lately), then I do all the dishes. Then I bathe Carter. Then I tidy up the basement and have a glass of wine and sit down for about an hour before going to bed and doing it allllllll over again.
Don't get me wrong. I am not feeling sorry for myself. But I will say that I am very much looking forward to Mother's Day. I'm taking the whole day off. And I will spend the day downtown by myself, doing whatever the hell I want. All day long.
But for now, I am running on this hamster wheel for better or for worse.
At least I've been watching some good movies.
Above is the trailer for a movie called Helen, which I watched yesterday and cried throughout. It was the most realistic portrayal of depression I have ever seen in a movie. I recommend it!
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
valley of the dolls
Okay. why? why why why why why why why?
Why can't I drink wine until I'm hammered on a Monday night?
Why can't I just buy books instead of borrowing from the library?
Why can't I spend the entire day in my underwear eating cupcakes and watching Jersey Shore?
Why won't he buy me a Vespa?
I know. I'm writing another post about how much being a grown up in a grown up relationship sucks.
I probably shouldn't complain too much. I am lucky to be with someone who lets me off the hook with long stretches (oh, only a year or so) of leisure time in between very part-time jobs that lead to nothing and stress me out like I have a real job, or something.
But when did I become this grown up? When did everything become so wrapped up in panic and responsibility?
If I want to buy $25 candles and $10 cardboard boxes I will! Dammit! This is freedom to me!
At this point I feel like I should rise, stare off into the sky with a noble expression, chin jutting out and what not, and proclaim all young, immature, frivolous mommies the world over free from all feelings of guilt and shame. With a flag waving away in the background.
This is unrealistic. I'm not getting a Vespa tomorrow. Or moving somewhere that resonates within my soul. This is where I am and I have to make the best of it.
I need a new hobby.
Enter: doll making.
Now hear me out!
Glass eyes. Wigs. Clay. Little miniature shoes and outfits and wigs worked into messy braids and sad pathetic little doll faces and oh my god! This could very well be the perfect time-waster that will pacify me and make me shut up and stop giving my poor husband an ulcer. And a headache. And a potential dependancy issue. That last part was a joke. Maybe.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Dear Carter
You're almost 6 months old now! That's half a year! Already!
It flew by. Somehow, together we got through it all: the first time I ever changed a diaper to being up all night to the time I fell down the stairs with you in my arms (you were fine, but it scared the shit out of you.)
I never wanted to have a baby. But don't let that make you sad, because you're here now and without you I wouldn't be myself at all. You really made me get to know myself a lot more. I don't even know who that person was that didn't want to have a baby... And you made me realize that if I can keep a baby alive and happy, I can do anything in the world. And you're such a happy guy. Yesterday, our doctor said you're the happiest baby he knows and he isn't the first person to say that. It must have been all the anti-depressants I was taking while you were in my uterus. Just Kiddin!
You're teething a lot lately. And you wake up crying a lot during the night. And at some point I usually pick you up and bring you to bed beside me and cuddle you back to sleep. I can't believe the supreme super powers I possess - I can make you all better just by holding you and kissing you. Nobody else can do that like I can. I've never been more proud of anything in all my life. So thanks, bug. You do just as much for me as I do for you.
Now that you're getting a little bigger we can start having a little more fun. We can take walks down the beach, visit the zoo, play in the snow, you're going to love it. This weekend we're going to Granny and Grandpa's trailer so you can go trick-or-treating. You're going to be a lion, and you're going to get mommy all kinds of candy!! You're so thoughtful.
I just want you to know that we will always have good days and bad days, but deep down inside I will always be happy because I gave life to this little person who just loves it so much already. I already know that you're going to be a risk-taker. You're going to wear your heart on your sleeve and you're going to be a talker. It's strange all the things you can get to know about a person before they even know it themselves.
I love you, Mowgli.
Now finish your nap and I will see you in about 2 hours.
Love, Mum.
It flew by. Somehow, together we got through it all: the first time I ever changed a diaper to being up all night to the time I fell down the stairs with you in my arms (you were fine, but it scared the shit out of you.)
I never wanted to have a baby. But don't let that make you sad, because you're here now and without you I wouldn't be myself at all. You really made me get to know myself a lot more. I don't even know who that person was that didn't want to have a baby... And you made me realize that if I can keep a baby alive and happy, I can do anything in the world. And you're such a happy guy. Yesterday, our doctor said you're the happiest baby he knows and he isn't the first person to say that. It must have been all the anti-depressants I was taking while you were in my uterus. Just Kiddin!
You're teething a lot lately. And you wake up crying a lot during the night. And at some point I usually pick you up and bring you to bed beside me and cuddle you back to sleep. I can't believe the supreme super powers I possess - I can make you all better just by holding you and kissing you. Nobody else can do that like I can. I've never been more proud of anything in all my life. So thanks, bug. You do just as much for me as I do for you.
Now that you're getting a little bigger we can start having a little more fun. We can take walks down the beach, visit the zoo, play in the snow, you're going to love it. This weekend we're going to Granny and Grandpa's trailer so you can go trick-or-treating. You're going to be a lion, and you're going to get mommy all kinds of candy!! You're so thoughtful.
I just want you to know that we will always have good days and bad days, but deep down inside I will always be happy because I gave life to this little person who just loves it so much already. I already know that you're going to be a risk-taker. You're going to wear your heart on your sleeve and you're going to be a talker. It's strange all the things you can get to know about a person before they even know it themselves.
I love you, Mowgli.
Now finish your nap and I will see you in about 2 hours.
Love, Mum.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
say it isn't so!
So.
The biggest tragedy to happen to hair since the she-mullet. It's happened to me.
My hair is thinning. A lot.
That's why I haven't been around the last couple of days. I have been too busy feeling sorry for myself.
I guess it's been progressively happening for a while and I just noticed the other day. Mike thinks it's hilarious.
So I've been doing lots of research on my balding (what a horrible thought), and it seems that this kind of hair thinning is very common in the months after you have a baby.
That, and protein. No vegetarian gets enough protein. So last night I had a double cheeseburger from McDonalds. It was incredibly delicious and I will not feel bad about it.
I guess it goes away by the time the baby is 6 months to a year old. But in that time, I am going to feel so self-cautious. My cousin's wedding is 9 days away and I have to go with a limp head of hair...
Yesterday I had a bit of a breakdown, spurred on by the hair thing. Bad scene.
It's so hard sometimes. Being home all the time with the baby. I love my son more than anybody can imagine, but sometimes. Sometimes I just want him to go to sleep. Or I just want to duct tape his mouth shut. Sometimes he needs so much attention that I feel like screaming. And I keep being happy around him, because I don't want him to see that I'm upset, and by the time Mike gets home I just fall on the floor and bawl. Then we have to go for a car ride. Car rides always calm me down.
So, keeping that in mind, good luck to all the other mummies out there in the world, with thinning hair and thinning patience. If your baby is like Carter and still won't sleep through the night, started teething early and constantly, constantly requires your full attention, god speed. I'm with you.
And now I must feed the little cuddle monster. Adieu!
The biggest tragedy to happen to hair since the she-mullet. It's happened to me.
My hair is thinning. A lot.
That's why I haven't been around the last couple of days. I have been too busy feeling sorry for myself.
I guess it's been progressively happening for a while and I just noticed the other day. Mike thinks it's hilarious.
So I've been doing lots of research on my balding (what a horrible thought), and it seems that this kind of hair thinning is very common in the months after you have a baby.
That, and protein. No vegetarian gets enough protein. So last night I had a double cheeseburger from McDonalds. It was incredibly delicious and I will not feel bad about it.
I guess it goes away by the time the baby is 6 months to a year old. But in that time, I am going to feel so self-cautious. My cousin's wedding is 9 days away and I have to go with a limp head of hair...
Yesterday I had a bit of a breakdown, spurred on by the hair thing. Bad scene.
It's so hard sometimes. Being home all the time with the baby. I love my son more than anybody can imagine, but sometimes. Sometimes I just want him to go to sleep. Or I just want to duct tape his mouth shut. Sometimes he needs so much attention that I feel like screaming. And I keep being happy around him, because I don't want him to see that I'm upset, and by the time Mike gets home I just fall on the floor and bawl. Then we have to go for a car ride. Car rides always calm me down.
So, keeping that in mind, good luck to all the other mummies out there in the world, with thinning hair and thinning patience. If your baby is like Carter and still won't sleep through the night, started teething early and constantly, constantly requires your full attention, god speed. I'm with you.
And now I must feed the little cuddle monster. Adieu!
Monday, August 9, 2010
do you eat fish dicks?
so.
It's another day in the neighbourhood. A neighbourhood where there is nothing at all to do and side note: how do I make my Macbook stop telling me that words spelt with ou are wrong? It isn't wrong. americans are wrong. Wrong at everything. Anyway. The neighbourhood with a corner store and a barber shop and not even any crackhead homeless people to laugh at.
Sometimes I really miss my old place. A typical day in the old place, before I got with Mike and we made babies, would include getting up early, whining about how badly I don't want to go to work, I'd paint or watch TV or read a novel, until dinnertime when I would walk over to the bar for work. I'd work. All night. Make maybe a hundred bucks in tips. Crappy. But after work I would head over to one of my party-hardy friends places to get hammered and stagger home at 9am.
I'm serious.
Then I'd sleep until 1 or 2 in the afternoon. Wake up feeling like shit because I wasted the entire day. Wouldn't stop me from doing the exact same thing a couple of times every week.
Well, that isn't life for me anymore. And I'm just fine with that! Only problem is this neighbourhood. Yes, neighbOUrhood, macbook, fuck off.
These days are a little different in the life of Lindsay. What do we do all day, you ask? Good question. Most days I sit on the couch trying to catch up on all the internet-stuff, and try to make fun of everybody's conversations on 20something bloggers (they must hate me)... But the entire time Carter is sitting beside me kicking me. And kicking me. And whining! GAH!
If the baby ever shuts up and sits still for a while I will walk around the basement re-arranging things and finding new "homes" for things. I have been reading a lot of books about organizing lately. Mike always loses track of where everything ends up. So do I. I still haven't found my camera's USB cord. Mom - if you're reading this, can you take a look around upstairs for it?
Anyway. Today I looked over to Mike's side of the bed and it is a disgusting disaster. So all day I have been planning how I am going to yell at him about this. Jokingly? Sarcastically? Should I throw something?
Carter kicks this laptop so hard sometimes, I can't believe he doesn't hurt himself.
Today, my mom brought me home some fish and chips. Bless her heart. And it is totally not her fault at all that they are absolutely the grossest thing I have ever tasted. This piece of fish is nothing but an over-ly deep fried, burnt, skinny giant fucking fish stick and nothing more. And the fries are McCain superfries. I can't believe they charged my mother good money for this. Sorry, mom. Thank you for getting it for me. I will eat it, don't worry. I love you.
It's another day in the neighbourhood. A neighbourhood where there is nothing at all to do and side note: how do I make my Macbook stop telling me that words spelt with ou are wrong? It isn't wrong. americans are wrong. Wrong at everything. Anyway. The neighbourhood with a corner store and a barber shop and not even any crackhead homeless people to laugh at.
Sometimes I really miss my old place. A typical day in the old place, before I got with Mike and we made babies, would include getting up early, whining about how badly I don't want to go to work, I'd paint or watch TV or read a novel, until dinnertime when I would walk over to the bar for work. I'd work. All night. Make maybe a hundred bucks in tips. Crappy. But after work I would head over to one of my party-hardy friends places to get hammered and stagger home at 9am.
I'm serious.
Then I'd sleep until 1 or 2 in the afternoon. Wake up feeling like shit because I wasted the entire day. Wouldn't stop me from doing the exact same thing a couple of times every week.
Well, that isn't life for me anymore. And I'm just fine with that! Only problem is this neighbourhood. Yes, neighbOUrhood, macbook, fuck off.
These days are a little different in the life of Lindsay. What do we do all day, you ask? Good question. Most days I sit on the couch trying to catch up on all the internet-stuff, and try to make fun of everybody's conversations on 20something bloggers (they must hate me)... But the entire time Carter is sitting beside me kicking me. And kicking me. And whining! GAH!
If the baby ever shuts up and sits still for a while I will walk around the basement re-arranging things and finding new "homes" for things. I have been reading a lot of books about organizing lately. Mike always loses track of where everything ends up. So do I. I still haven't found my camera's USB cord. Mom - if you're reading this, can you take a look around upstairs for it?
Anyway. Today I looked over to Mike's side of the bed and it is a disgusting disaster. So all day I have been planning how I am going to yell at him about this. Jokingly? Sarcastically? Should I throw something?
Carter kicks this laptop so hard sometimes, I can't believe he doesn't hurt himself.
Today, my mom brought me home some fish and chips. Bless her heart. And it is totally not her fault at all that they are absolutely the grossest thing I have ever tasted. This piece of fish is nothing but an over-ly deep fried, burnt, skinny giant fucking fish stick and nothing more. And the fries are McCain superfries. I can't believe they charged my mother good money for this. Sorry, mom. Thank you for getting it for me. I will eat it, don't worry. I love you.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
mowgli...
So I became a mom one day.
Still not sure when it happened, or how.
But I know that I became one because of the shift in thinking.
I don't think all parents get it, either. There are a lot of shitty parents.
I think the act of over-thinking it, and the desire to be better every single day, that is what will make us better.
So here we are. Me and Carter.
We are sitting on this ugly couch in my parents' basement together. He is refusing to nap. Rubbing his eyes like crazy. I was just sitting here in the dark, staring at him. I was just worrying about the future for him. Wondering how I'm going to fix all of his problems and make sure nobody ever hurts him. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I feel like I have to save him from all of the people. People are the worst.
Maybe... if he just knows how much I love him he will always be happy - because how could you have any problems when your mother loves you this much?
Of course that's bullshit.
But I just keep thinking that maybe I can love away all of his problems. I can love him so much that it will lift him up to a higher plane and a superior state of being and he won't have to worry about all those other people hurting him, because he will always know how powerful love can be.
And when you understand how powerful love can be, you stop wasting your time with everybody else and their craziness.
My heart breaks a little bit every time I look at him. Every time I touch him I feel like I've reached that sacred moment that your entire life leads up to. I feel like every step I've ever taken was only for him. I wish I were wiser for him, and I always wonder how I am going to make him strong and gentle, and sweet and smart, and funny and confident. I am going to make him an absolutely incredible person. What a privilege we are given when we give life to another person. What a beautiful fucking responsibility.
I think about dying. And if it were to happen today, I wonder if Carter would ever know how much I love him at this exact moment, as I stare at him falling asleep, crying all over my keyboard. If I leave this world, will I be satisfied that I had done everything I could to show him how much I care? If I'm gone, will anyone ever love him like this again?
He needs to know.
He needs to know that I wanted him. I kept him. I carried him inside me for 9 months and I brought him into the world. I love him more than anybody and I know it. And if I were gone, he wouldn't ever remember that I once sat beside him as he fell asleep, crying on my keyboard while trying to sort out all of my thoughts, my hopes and dreams - for him.
He needs to know.
I really want my love to save him. From hurt, heartbreak, loneliness and pain. I will spend the rest of my life trying. And if I fail at protecting him from all of life's inevitable disappointments, at least I will always break his fall. I'll always love him this much. All I have to do is make sure he knows it.
Even if I am gone one day. He needs to know it would never be by choice. I would stay in this moment for all of eternity if I could. Just watching him sleep in the dark.
He needs to know...
sigh.
Still not sure when it happened, or how.
But I know that I became one because of the shift in thinking.
I don't think all parents get it, either. There are a lot of shitty parents.
I think the act of over-thinking it, and the desire to be better every single day, that is what will make us better.
So here we are. Me and Carter.
We are sitting on this ugly couch in my parents' basement together. He is refusing to nap. Rubbing his eyes like crazy. I was just sitting here in the dark, staring at him. I was just worrying about the future for him. Wondering how I'm going to fix all of his problems and make sure nobody ever hurts him. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I feel like I have to save him from all of the people. People are the worst.
Maybe... if he just knows how much I love him he will always be happy - because how could you have any problems when your mother loves you this much?
Of course that's bullshit.
But I just keep thinking that maybe I can love away all of his problems. I can love him so much that it will lift him up to a higher plane and a superior state of being and he won't have to worry about all those other people hurting him, because he will always know how powerful love can be.
And when you understand how powerful love can be, you stop wasting your time with everybody else and their craziness.
My heart breaks a little bit every time I look at him. Every time I touch him I feel like I've reached that sacred moment that your entire life leads up to. I feel like every step I've ever taken was only for him. I wish I were wiser for him, and I always wonder how I am going to make him strong and gentle, and sweet and smart, and funny and confident. I am going to make him an absolutely incredible person. What a privilege we are given when we give life to another person. What a beautiful fucking responsibility.
I think about dying. And if it were to happen today, I wonder if Carter would ever know how much I love him at this exact moment, as I stare at him falling asleep, crying all over my keyboard. If I leave this world, will I be satisfied that I had done everything I could to show him how much I care? If I'm gone, will anyone ever love him like this again?
He needs to know.
He needs to know that I wanted him. I kept him. I carried him inside me for 9 months and I brought him into the world. I love him more than anybody and I know it. And if I were gone, he wouldn't ever remember that I once sat beside him as he fell asleep, crying on my keyboard while trying to sort out all of my thoughts, my hopes and dreams - for him.
He needs to know.
I really want my love to save him. From hurt, heartbreak, loneliness and pain. I will spend the rest of my life trying. And if I fail at protecting him from all of life's inevitable disappointments, at least I will always break his fall. I'll always love him this much. All I have to do is make sure he knows it.
Even if I am gone one day. He needs to know it would never be by choice. I would stay in this moment for all of eternity if I could. Just watching him sleep in the dark.
He needs to know...
sigh.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
The SNUGLI!!!
Let me tell you what life was like yesterday.
Yesterday I didn't get Carter to have a nap at all, until late afternoon. This is after a night of practically no sleep. People who say "oh my baby slept through the night at 5 weeks!" and so on, you can kiss my ass, I don't want to hear it. Anyway. Carter is the kind of boy who would rather watch you do dishes than sit and play with a toy or watch some baby show on TV. This, yesterday, resulted in one-handed coffee making, not eating my cereal until noon, and wild screaming every time I put him down to go to the washroom or something. Carter is rather demanding about what he likes to do. He likes to be with you. All the time. And how am I going to resist that? I am of the firm opinion that it is impossible to spoil a child with love.
This morning I was ready for the same mind numbing routine, when I remembered that we have a Snugli in the dungeon! (more about the dungeon another time, perhaps). I remembered a while ago trying to put him in the Snugli and chaos ensued. His leg got all twisted and he was sitting on it and the other leg went through the right hole and he was just not impressed. So in the dungeon I threw it, and began to accept my fate - carrying Carter around, at his whim, until he learns how to walk. Months from now. :| So the Snugli worked! He's in it right now watching my write this entry! This is such a raving success, I think I am going to send the good people of Snugli a strongly worded thank you letter from me, and all the other moms like me.
Shut up. I just woke up.
Mum Jams: Two Weeks - Grizzly Bear
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