Women Drivers...

My sweet girl has been rolling and pushing herself all around the house. She's not crawling yet, but she's certainly getting around. I'll usually let her play when I'm cooking dinner or tidying up.

Yesterday she got herself hung up on the sofa:

Which doesn't seem the big deal, until you look at it from a larger perspective:

There is like NOTHING around her!

I'm having nightmares already...I think Daddy will be teaching her to drive.

Potty Humour

C is such a big boy. He finally decided to start using the potty about a month ago, and once he decided, its been pretty smooth sailing.

He runs into the kitchen, "Mommy I pooped, come see!"

And although I am extremely excited about the actual potty training success, I still don't quite share his enthusiasm in checking it out. But, I still go.

"Look Mom" He says, "There's a big one and some little ones..." He pauses and then says, "There's a Daddy one, a C one, AND a L one."

Conversations I really never thought I'd be having. :)

Adventures with Mr Mom: The Bath Tub Incident

Saturday my neighbour had an open house to showcase her custom jewellery (check out her website for Stone Petal Designs). It was just after six, we'd had an early supper because the kids were wiped and we were set to put them to bed early, so after helping James get the boys into the tub, I ventured next door.

Fifteen minutes later I returned home and was greeted at the door by K, which was odd because he should have still been in the tub. Enthusiastically K says, "Mommy! Mommy! C pooped in the tub!!" Uh-oh. Then James chimes in from upstairs, "never leave again".

Apparently in the 15 minutes I was absent, chaos ensued. First C pooped in the tub, so James, panicked to get them out of the water, just takes them out of the tub, and tries to deal with the situation at hand. As he's draining the tub, a naked Colson wanders into K's room and proceeds to pee on his floor.

Poor Jimmy, isn't motherhood fun?

The Usual Suspects

On Tuesday I baked a lovely chocolate cake, and James and myself, and of course a bit for Keelan and Colson, all enjoyed a few pieces. By this morning there was a quarter of the cake left. Mmmm, its a great cake, rich, moist, chocolately, I was really looking forward to having a piece for dessert at lunch. Lunch was supposed to be leftover paella...supposed to be but apparently after I went to bed early last night, James helped himself to whatever was left of the paella and left the empty tupperware dish upstairs for me to clean up this morning (I love my husband...I love my husband...I love my husband...)

Fastforward to lunch, which I now have to cook, and this is what I come across:

The crime scene: The kitchen counter.

Facts:

Where previously there was quarter of a cake, now there is a sad, picked at, remainder of a cake

The scene has been left a mess, crumbs all over counter

A single, used, plastic fork has been left at the scene

Suspect #1: James (aka the husband)

** Scene has been recreated for dramatic purposes.

The facts:

• Has a known history of finishing
• off goodies without sharing, and tends to leave a trail.
• Had opportunity to sneak cake while Kidlets and myself were upstairs
• Enjoys chocolate cake

Suspect #2: C (aka Baby C)

The facts:

• Also enjoys chocolate cake
• Was upstairs at time of crime
• Cannot reach counter top

Suspect #3: K (aka K-Man)
**Note, suspect was prompted to make his best "mean face" for mug shot

The facts:
Has history of sneaking food without asking
Location unknown at time of crime
Has access to counter top

Did not appear to have any evidence on his person after crime, however did remove his clothing during the period the cake dissappeared

Now, given the paella incident of the morning, I was leaning toward suspect #1. So, begrudgingly I cleaned up the crumbs that had been left on the counter, and started making lunch (chicken donairs...mmmm, yummy enough to offset the frustration of having to cook when I thought it was taken care of).

As I'm making lunch, who should enter the kitchen but "the husband". C's in his high chair, happily plugging away at a freezie, K is playing under the kitchen table, holding a wonderful conversation with himself about Thomas and dinosaurs. James and I chat a bit about how business is going so far, he comments on how good lunch smells, and then he looks at the cake remnants and says, "you know, I've only had like 3 pieces" and looks at me as if I'm the one responsible for eating 3 pieces of cake since this morning (ok, i'm a closet eater, but even that's a bit much for me).

Okay now, let's do some math, a quarter of a chocolate cake (who's only ingredients are eggs, butter, sugar, and chocolate), one husband (formerly Suspect #1) who no longer appears to be guilty, myself, who I know not to be guilty, one baby, who had neither opportunity nor capacity, and one rather three year old, with a really guilty smile.

So to my husband, I apologize for jumping to conclusions, and to myself, darn, that kid really pulled one over on me. If he's already successfully framing James at three, then I am in a lot of trouble.

SNOWDAY!!

I read a post on a friend's blog (walkonthewildeside.blogspot.com) where she talked about seeing the kids' schoolyard spotted with snowmen and snowforts and she took a moment to be grateful that imagination is still alive in a time of video games and computers. So when we were hit with a mini blizzard on Saturday morning I was determined to take the opportunity to have some free, quality time with the family. Outside it was warm, and the snow was sticky, (perfect snowmen weather!) so we all bundled up and played in the yard.


One of the families down the street already had their snowman under construction, four layers high, they were using a ladder to add the finishing touches. Not to be outdone James started work on the biggest (fattest) snowman I'd ever seen. He literally cleared the snow from out yard, it was all in the snowman!


K loved it outside. With the help of his dump truck he transported loads of snow and helped pack whatever he didn't eat onto the snowman. He also made his own little snow blob right next to the big one, and added buttons for the eyes and a carrot for the nose (which he promptly ate prior to any photo opportunity).


C is getting used to the snow, but its not really his thing. When K was a toddler he used to (and still does come to think of it) just lay face down in the snow. C, on the other hand, has a major meltdown any time his skin comes into actual contact with the white stuff. he gets frustrated that he can't walk easily, and his mittens make picking up the snow rather difficult. For most of our snowman adventure he just sat under our tree with his bucket, and cried any time a piece of snow fell from the branches above. Poor kid.



The finished snowman was great! K had a blast, so did James and I, and C did okay :) Check K out in this photo, he's taking a big bite out of the snowman! (Seriously, if you read my mealtime battles post this is just further proof of his tendency to eat everything in sight UNLESS its on the dinner plate!) The weather warmed up really quickly, by that evening the snowman looked more like it belonged in Calvin and Hobbes Snowmen House of Horror. Poor guy, writhing as he melts.

Oh well, we had a blast, hope you enjoy the pics.

Fineprint: The Meal-Time Battles

As my mom can surely attest to, growing up I was the pickiest eater around. I survived for a year on chicken noodle soup and Vegetable Thins crackers, not because of a lack of wonderful home cooked meals, but because any attempt to feed me something new resulted in an hour at the table filled with tears, tantrums, and likely gagging as I filled my mouth with milk with every swallow. It was awful.

Because of my personal history I have approached cooking for my children with the expectation that majority of my dishes will not meet my children's approval, and I'm okay with that. Ketchup has become my weapon of choice in the dinnertime battle, because most things if drenched in ketchup will make it past the taste test. K is way worse than C. C will eat most of what's presented as long as no vegetable is within sight. And I'm okay with this. Usually I can sneak in some fruit slices or a yogurt onto the plate and I tell myself that this portion of healthy food will offset the not-so-healthy frozen fish sticks or kraft dinner. I signed up for mealtime battles, it was all part of the contract, but I missed the fine print.

See, the thing that gets me, the part that actually does hurt my ego, is that my kids will basically eat anything that they find. For over a year K would sneak a piece of dog food every time my back was turned. I can't make him stop eating snow despite the frequest leaves and dirt and "other" items that he's swallowed in the process. I've actually seen him lick the dog. And C's just as bad. Granted he's only 17 months, but last weekend, visiting friends, he not once but twice found a piece of sidewalk chalk to chomp down on and made a huge tantrum when I took it away.

So it begs the question, is my cooking really so awful that the critics would rather eat crayons than try a spoonful of soup? Is my pizza so terrible that an after dinner dog biscuit is preferable?

I'm sure like everything else it's a phase. Most 10 year olds will clear a plate of "normal" food...right? and I guess I always have a fall-back: 10 years of a rotating meal plan of Kraft Dinner and Macaroni & Cheese. It might not be my ideal menu, but it sure beats kibbles and bits :)

You'll Never Guess What My Kids Are Up To

It's not even 10am and I'm sitting down to enjoy a nice chai tea latte. It's warm and I haven't even had to reheat it the typical three times. How is this possible? Why have I had this rare opportunity to actually take a breath a enjoy a quiet, solitary moment. My children are (dramatic pause) playing with each other. Actually playing. They are in K's room, playing with trains. Sharing. and its been going on for nearly an hour.

It started when C started crying to announce he was wake and ready to start his day. Too lazy to drag myself out of bed, I asked K to go say hi to his brother. K begrudgingly marched into C's room and announced in his growly "dinosaur" voice, "These are my trains and you can't have them" (translation: "Good morning"). But then something shifted. The dinosaur voice gave way to his regular, pleasant K voice, and I smiled as K explained to his brother how he had found his Thomas trains this morning and then went into his room.

Then K brought two of his trains for C to play with, and then invited him into his room to play. And they did. They played. No crying. No fighting. All I can hear is giggling and K telling his brother all the ins and outs of the Sodor trains and C babbling back. This is the moment that I had in my mind when I found out I was having two boys. This is the moment that gives me hope that they might actually grow up and like each other, that maybe the all the pinching and hitting and kicking and pushing will evolve into something that looks more like friendship.

Okay okay, overkill maybe. And now there's C crying, and K shouting "that's not funny". My perfect moment is over. My tea is still only half drunk. But it happened, and maybe it'll happen again. For today, that's enough for me.

What Ever Happened to Soap Operas and Bon Bons

So I'm finally giving in and starting a blog. Its kind of the 'in thing' to do, or at least that what I've heard. I've thought long and hard about what I would write, what is so interesting in my life that someone else would care to hear it. And the answer to that question truthfully, is nothing.

There's nothing particularly unique about my day-to-day life. I'm a work at home mom, with two young boys. I make the beds, fix breakfast, clean and clothe my toddler and preschooler, I read books, and do crafts, clean the house and buy the groceries, and if I find the time, maybe squeeze in a shower and watch some Oprah. But sometimes, in those rare, quiet moments, I get time to really think, and so often the thought that creeps up on me is, "How did I get here?"

Look at my Mom, she made it look easy. We ate at home almost every night, and to real, homemade dinners. Fast food was a treat, not a routine. Our house was clean, so were us kids, and she never appeared frazzled. So when I signed up for the position of Mommy, it was a no brainer. I always knew I wanted to stay home with my kids. From a very young age I had the desire to be a stay-at-home mom. My mother stayed home to raise my brother and me, her mom stayed home and raised her. It was the natural path, not even a choice really. I'd done well in school and at my jobs. Whatever I tried I excelled at. I loved kids and cooking, I knew how to do laundry and clean a house, so really, how much work would it be? Right?

But oh when that illusion is shattered. When the dogs won't stop whining and the kids won't stop barking, the "homemade dinner" of Kraft dinner is burning on the stove as my Blackberry vibrates to let me know another email has arrived...that's when it hits me.

What if this isn't a 'natural path' at all?

What if its not easy?

What ever happened to soap operas and bon bons?

To be fair, I love my kids. I am so incredibly grateful that I CAN be home with them. But there are days. There are days when I just have to laugh at where I am. University educated, strong, confident woman, desperately negotiating with my three year old to keep his shirt on while he poops. And I have to think, I cannot be the only mommy out there who feels like this, who wonders, "How did I get here?"

So that's what my blog will be. My blog will be a place that I can finally admit that my house isn't actually organized, and that I didn't brush my hair this morning, and that my son's socks don't match. And hopefully, somehow through the anonymity of the internet, someone out there will tell me that they feel the same way.