Attempting Haircuts: Proceed with Caution

This morning I cut C's hair. I always did K's hair, and did a decent job, until this year that is, when his baby hair made way to thicker, coarser hair. On Christmas Eve I attempted a haircut on him. Three "hacks" in and I realised that the game had changed. I was in no way qualified to do that job. Thank goodness Melonhead's was open. We did an emergency trip to the hairdresser and she thankfully was able to mend the mess I'd made. C's hair is still in that fine, baby hair mode. I did take him to Melondheads for his first real cut but with the amount he moves they weren't able to do a great job anyways.

So today I did it myself. Usually I just use scissors, but this time I decided to go for it and used a proper trimmer for the back. The problem is, he's so blonde that when you cut it short he looks bald. So now I fear I've gone too far and he's wound up with a military style shave, bald on the sides, short on the top. Oh dear.

To make matters worse, I keep finding little patches that aren't quite right, so I'm chasing him around the house like a mad women, trimmer in hand as he cries, "done done mommy". Poor kid.

Still my Baby

Well, my last post was on a not-so-good day. But since then, its been much better. No Mommy tantrums since then!

We had a busy weekend and successfully made over K's bedroom. When we first did his nursery we painted beige horizontal stripes of varying widths on the wall. It took forever, but looked great. We swore we'd never paint because it really was a tonne of work. But, four years later the walls were full of marks and dents, and it was time. It was definatly a bitter sweet moment, sanding down the stripes, putting up new paint. It was fresh and clean, I LOVE NEW PAINT, but it also felt a bit like I was admitting my baby was a baby no more. He loved his new "Thomas" room, but I'll admit its still a little hard to get used to.

I think we'll do C's room next. I'm thinking a soft green on top, and the same chocolate on the bottom, no border. James is in a hockey tourney this weekend, so we'll see how ambitious I am, and I guess how well the kids are behaving.

One of the big contributors to our bad days is that K, even though he's four, still naps. I hear of kids cutting their naps at 2, but its certainly not the case here. Particularly on school days, he's a mess by the time 4pm rolls around. We'll usually try to keep him up, feed him supper, throw him if the tub and lights out by 7pm. The problem with that is he's usually up at 5:30am the next morning ready to go.

Today was a good day. We had a rough start, C was up too early and was "crabby cakes" until he passed out for a nap at 11am. Despite that,the boys played nicely together all morning. They built trains, ate hungeets, held hands, play fought, it was sweet. K had school this afternoon, and promptly passed out on the couch when he got home.

Today was a good day.  Those "angelic" moments, watching them sleep, really helps make up for those other moments when they aren't so "angelic".  Its these moments that I take and breath and remember that as big as he may be, he really is still my baby.

Fine Print: Mommy Tantrums

We all have bad days. Its part of the contract:  unconditional love, heartmelting smiles, loads of adventures and new discoveries, screaming crying epic tantrums.

Yesterday was one of those days. It started out great, both the boys were all smiles for the morning. C napped with no fuss and K was my little buddy while we rearranged the furniture upstairs. When the time arrived for swim lessons, he was so excited that he begged James to come along. Despite his workload, James agreed and we all packed into the car and headed for the Y. Everything was going great, James dropped us at the entrance, K and I ran excitedly into the Y, into the changeroom, hurriedly got changed, dashed to the pool, and abruptly the mood shifted. K refused to get in the pool.

At first, no problem, we start all our 'group' adventures like this. K tends to be anxious, but he loves swimming, so "no worries," I tell myself "this will pass." Five minutes pass, and he'll sit on the edge of the pool, but won't get in. Ten minutes, still refusing. Twenty minutes, now class is almost over. Twenty-five minutes, all the kids are going down the slide, and K is still outside the pool. And I've been patient, I'm the only mom left standing by the pool instead of in the viewing area, and he's the only kid not participating. James is smiling at me through the viewing window. There's 5 minutes left and now I'm done being patient, so I tell K we're done and going to get changed.

And that's the moment. The moment when he goes to being a scared kid who's still endearing enough to get away with it, to the bratty kid who's throwing a fit and is old enough to know better. Now he wants to go in the water. Now he's crying because we have to leave.

Usually in this type of situation I would just scoop him up and go home. But he's wet, and in only a swim suit, so in this midst of his screaming and flailing I have to attempt to quickly get him changed. Not an easy task, the change rooms are crowded, and he's slippery, and his suit is sticking, and he's screaming, "No, No, NO NO!", and I'm mortified.  I'm embarrassed, and angry, and I just want to get out of there. I can feel people watching us. I can hear the whispers. In the midst of all this chaos, I'm still "calm"(although I must be red as a plum because I blush when I'm embarrassed). I'm just focused on escaping, when I feel a hand on my shoulder and a women's voice in my ear,

"Its okay, we've all been there."

I muster a small smile, finish getting our boots on, and drag K out of there. It was a very sweet, genuine gesture, and I appreciated it. But as I climbed into the car, completely defeated, K still yelling, I broke down and had my own little tantrum. I cried the whole ride home. Lucky James, what a day to come to swimming!!

Apparently tantrums come at all ages, and as much as "We've all been there" it certainly doesn't feel like that in the moment. In the moment it feels like all eyes are on you. It feels like you must be lacking some fundamental parenting skill. In the moment it just feels bad.

Today will be better.... I hope

Who Needs Toys When You Have A Bucket?

I swear my kids have more toys than anyone I know. They are spoiled rotten. K has every train that has ever been on the Island of Sodor, some of them in duplicate. This Christmas we were all spoiled blessed with an abundance of gifts from family and friends...and really, James and I tend to "acquire" new things for the kids too.

So faced with rooms full of shiny new toys, what do my children think is the most fun? Why, the bucket that holds the toys of course.

They can climb in it

Push it

Put things in it

Heck, with a little imagination they can even become a turtle.

... Maybe next year we can skip the toys and opt for some boxes instead.

Another Moment with K

Ever wonder what its like to be in the mind of a four-year-old? Sometimes I wonder how things seem from K's perspective. We try to be pretty logical in how we talk to him, explaining why we're doing something or why he shouldn't do something. Today at lunch, he gave me a little insight into his thoughts, and I have to say, he's an imaginative little guy. He started into this crazy story, so I grabbed a marker, and together we wrote down his tale. The story describes what K says happened to him as a baby:

"A bad chameleon came to put me on the choo-choo train cage. I got locked in. Then he took me to cat land. They gave me cat food, I didn't like it. AND I didn't know what to do! I couldn't do anything! They did not have toys for me!!
They went around the block, and they pushed me in the head, and it pulled my hair.
Then, I was asleep in the freight car. The cage did not have a door, and no keys, and I wondered what to do...so I growed up."


"Did you ever get away from them?"


"NO! I'm still there, There are no doors!!"

Yeah, there you have it. He told me that story with conviction, and emotion. Perhaps I have a future writer on my hands? I think sometimes I forget how little K still is, because C's there and so little in comparison I expect to much from my firstborn. Getting a glimpse into his little mind helped me realise how far he's come (and how VERY far he has to go). What a goof. It made me laugh, hopefully makes you laugh too.

For My Fellow Scrapbookers

It has been SO LONG since I've scrapbooked. Before Christmas I was doing a house cleaning and was seriously considering giving away my stash of stuff because It's been forever since I've had the time/motivation to get some stuff done. But instead of rushing that decision, I went ahead and booked a night at Scrapbookers. I'm so happy I decided to make that date!!!  Just felt nice to be a bit creative for a change.

I'm a bit of a scrapbooking purest, I've never had any interest in digital or kits, but I did something I wouldn't normally do and picked up a little mini-album kit and by the end of the night I had finished an entire album, and was half way through the next. Woo-hoo! Here's a bit of what I've done:

So much fun. I think that despite being a kit, with the little bit of embellishing it turned out great. The best part was that I gave it to K and he thought it was super cool. He wanted to read it over and over, and then he read it to James, pointed out all the stickers and people in the pictures. It was rewarding to see how much he enjoyed it.

Thanks for looking!

Spring Cleaning

Ah, Don't you love a good chinook? Being from Winnipeg I can really appreciate a break from chilling weather (even if we pay the price with a headache!). I decided that in the hopes of encouraging an early spring I would shake up the blog's image to something a little more "springish". What do you all think?

Now, onto my topic of the day. All this Spring weather has got me in the Spring Cleaning mode. Despite my best efforts my house is a disaster zone 99.9% of the time. It occured to me today that I 've subconsciously come up with a cleaning system. My house is only really clean if I'm having company over. James jokes that we should have a party once a month just to keep our housework up to date. At all other times, the level of clean in my house is based on two facors: 1. How well I know my house guest  2. How clean that guest keeps their home.

I don't think it was intentional, but I've noticed it recently. There are friends I break my back over trying to keep up the perception of being Martha, and there are friends that I tidy for, and my family...well, you've seen it, you know my dirty secret.

I've had many conversations about it with James. I have about the same chance of keeping the house clean with my little mess makers as a fart in a tornado. By the time one room is tidy, they've destroyed two others.

Today as I was wiping finger prints off of cupboards, a happy thought crossed my mind. Maybe my friends are all doing the same thing. Maybe we've all entered into this mutual, unspoken arrangement whereby we all put on an act for one another. And if that is the case, I'd really love to hear about it. And if you are that amazingly organized, always clean mom (and there's a few of you who come to mind), what is your secret!!?? Is there a system? Do you have a maid? Maybe the secret is to clean your house instead of sitting at the computer blogging....hmm, I think I hear my vacuum calling.

A Moment With K

Adventures With Mr Mom: Instructions Required

James tries very hard. His boys adore him, and for the most part he is an exceptional father. On Sunday morning he gave me the one thing I want more than anything in this world...SLEEP! After two nights of sick kidlets, I was exhausted, and he graciously took both boys while I was lazy. He and the boys woke me just after 10am with a tag-team "kiss" ambush that reminded me of WWF, and after much giggles and jumping around, he watched them some more while I showered and got dressed. It was lovely. I very much enjoyed it.

Around 11 we left the house, James had gotten them dressed, we had milk cups in tow, and went to face the world. Not five minutes from the house both the boys were whining in the back, in a chorus of "I wants". That's when it occured to me, "James, did you feed the kids?"

"No," he replied, "You told me to watch them"

Sigh.

Ok Shan, This One's For You

Two weeks into the new year and despite my distaste for 'resolutions', I have been making a genuine effort at improving my lifestyle in 2010. One of those things that, whether I want to admit it or not, is that I would LOVE to drop these last 10 pounds of baby weight (can I even still call it baby weight 19 months later!?).

I was talking to my cousin yesterday, who has done an amazing job at prioritizing herself and has lost (and kept off) a lot of weight in the past few years. She might not be where she wants to be, but she's always moving in the right direction. She started a new program this year, and one of the first things they ask you to do is to take a "before" picture of yourself in your underwear. She told me that she was going to take a picture, but would only wear a full bathing suit, not underwear. I objected. This picture was for her and her alone, and there was no reason why she should have to hide from herself. Besides, it would be so satisfying to have that after shot, it would make all her efforts worthwhile. So yes, I opened my big mouth and objected, and to that Shannon said, "will you take one?"

Shoot, didn't expect that. After all, I'm not the one starting the program, I have no book telling me to do this exercise...how did I get dragged into this mess?!?!  What should I do? The only thing I could do, as an act of support I said I would take a picture too (deep breaths...no one will see it).

So Shan, I did it. I stood in my skivvies and let my new mac take two pics, one from the front, one from the side. And...it sucked. However, it wasn't as bad as I had anticipated it to be. This exercise in self esteem made me reflect on my body image as a whole. Truth be told, whatever my weight has been, the only time I ever like my body is in hindsight. When I was a size 4 I felt the same way about myself as I do now. There is a whole new movement focused on helping women learn to love how they look, for the Dove Self-Esteem Fund, to show's like, "How to Look Good Naked", and I think I'm gonna jump on that bandwagon instead of all the other stuff floating around designed to make us feel bad and buy more stuff.

What I'm taking from this is that whether I strive to become healthier or not, I have to focus on my only resolution this year, which was changing my perception. Fat or thin, I've earned every pound, and those ten pounds of baby weight was definately a good trade off.

So there you go Shannon, a public admission to a hard exercise. This one is for you!

Taking the Plunge

I was a big swimmer. I took lessons early and went pretty far, it was the one thing athletically that I was pretty okay at. For the longest time I've wanted K to learn to swim. When he was little, it was the tubes in his ears that held us back from registering him. In more recent years, K's terrible tantrums shy nature has made me nervous.

Last summer James and I thought it would be great to get K into a few sports before he started preschool. We optimistically signed him up for both t-ball and soccer. Long story short, K was less than impressed with either activity, particularly when it came time to join a group of 3-5 year old strangers, and we totalled 5 actual practises between the two 10 week activities.

Preschool has been great, K seems to enjoy it despite the large group of kids, so on Tuesday I decided to take the plunge (pun intended) and enrol him into swim lessons. As luck would have it, a session started on Wednesday and we were there. He was SO EXCITED!! He talked about it all day on Tuesday, all  morning Wednesday, the whole car ride up, the entire time in the change room, he was thrilled...right until the time when we were standing right next to the pool trying to find his teacher. And there it began, in the middle of all the smiling, laughing, exciting, loud children, was K, arms and legs wrapped around me like a spider monkey pleading and crying for me not to leave.

I was stead fast. Determined. I would not give in like I did at Gymboree, T-Ball, Soccer. No, my child would swim, even if I had to get in there myself. While the rest of his class sat on the edge of the water, kicking their legs and squealing with excitement, K and I sat outside the pool, watching. While the rest of the class jumped in, I negotiated with K: I would continue to sit on that step outside the pool and not move if he would stick his toes in the water. And to my surprise, he did. In the same fashion I convinced him to sit on the side with legs in the water like his peers had. And he did. And finally, 15 minutes into a 30 minute class (and with the help of a cute swim teacher named Ana) he took the plunge and jumped in.

From that point on he did great. He tried all the activites, floating on his back, going down the slide, he was actually the last one out because he didn't want to leave. Ah, success, even if its a small one. With any luck, next week I'll be able to watch from the viewing area, rather than being the one mommy getting splashed, and if not, oh well, we'll just take it one week at a time.

Resolutions

Ah, New Year's Day. A time to reflect on the year gone by, and to start making "resolutions" for the year to come. I'm not a big "resolution" type of girl. I think that despite best intentions, they are usually short lived and just set us up to feel badly.

Of course I've done them: "I'm going to lose weight" (the same 10 pounds I've been resolving to lose for the last 5 years). "I'm going to stick to a budget" (ask James how well that one goes). "I'm going to get organised" (well, maybe i'll throw that one on the list again this year...here's hoping).

In any case, this year I had a really interesting conversation with my neighbour (and friend) on the topic of resolutions. She said to me that this year she wanted to focus on changing her perspective instead of changing herself. What a great idea. I think a lot about how very blessed I am, a comfortable life, nice things, beautiful home, healthy, wonderful children. But still...I am always looking at what other things I need  want. Would an ensuite with 2 sinks really make me happier than the house with one? Probably not. Nicer cars, more expensive clothes, all these things are only going to make me less organised, less wealthy. So I think this year I'm going to jump on my neighbour's bandwagon and focus on changing my perspective. I am resolving to learn to appreciate the small things, the real things instead of the stuff. and in doing so I think that maybe I can also be more organised, more frugal, and most of all happier.

and losing 10 pounds...what the heck, I'll throw that on the list too.